The San Francisco call and post. [volume], December 10, 1913, Page 10, Image 10

About The San Francisco call and post. [volume] (San Francisco, Calif.) 1913-1929

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10
Krazv Kat
Cogfrlftit, ISIS, inter national N««r» Serrloe.
Tomorrow:
Kute Kapers
THE RIGHT SPIRIT
••The right Thanksgiving spirit."
said Secretary Bryan at a dinner in
Washington, "was well exempMfied
one afternoon in the west.
"I was passing through rich farm
ing country when a superb wheat field
caused me to dismount with my cam
era.
" Tou must positively let me tres
pass on your property,' I said to the
farmer, "long enough to photograph
that field of wheat. It's the finest I
ever saw.'
"The farmer, as he opened the gate,
gave a laugh that had the true thanks
giving ring in it.
" 'You're welcome to photograph the
field,' he said. 'You'll have to do it
Instantaneous, though—she's growln'
so fast.' "
The Dingbat Family
Polly and Her Pals
Us Boys
THE
KING OF DIAMONDS
LOUIS TRACY
MONTE
CRISTO
Continued From Yewtcrday
Late that evening, when the pro
tracted gloaming of the north was
fast yielding to the shadows of a
cloudy night, the big man from the
Grange House drove into Scarsdale.
He pulled up at the Fox and Hounds
public house. He wanted Mr. Green.
Anson's valet came.
"Your master says you are to bring
bis portmanteau to the Grange House
tonight. He intends remaining there.
You must get the landlord to sit up
until you return. It will take you an
hour and a half to drive both ways."
Green was ready in five minutes.
He learned that a stable boy must
crouch at their feet to bring the dog
cart back. It was the property of the
Fox and Hounds' proprietor.
Very unwillingly the horse swung
off again toward the moor. There was
little conversation. The driver was
taciturn, the Londoner somewhat
scared by the dark loneliness.
At the Grange House they were met
by Philip Anson. He stood in the open
doorway. He held a handkerchief to
his lips and spoke in a husky voice,
the voice of one under the stress of
great agitation:
"That you. Green? Just give my bag
to the driver and return to the village.
Here is a five pound note. Pay your
bill and go back to London by the first
train tomorrow. I stop here some few
days."
The astonished servant took the
note. Before he could reply his master
turned, crossed a room feebly lighted
by a dull lamp and passed through a
curtained doorway.
Green was staring perplexedly at
the house, the kitchen, his 111 favored
companion carrying Philip's portmsn
teau within, when he heard his mas
ter's voice again and saw him stand
ing between the partly drawn cur
tains, with his face quite visible in the
dim rays of the lamp.
"Green f
MORE INSTRUCTIONS
"Yes, sir."
"Here are my keys. Unlock the bag
and take the keys with you. You re
member the small portmanteau in my
aafe at Park lana?"
I "Yes, sir."
I "Open the safe, get that bag and
THE BAN TOANCTSCO CATE POST. TVEDNESP'AY, DECEMBER TH, TTfT!? "
send it to me tomorrow night by train
to the Station hotel. York."
"Tomorrow night, sir?"
"Yes."
The keys were thrown with a rattle
onto a broad kitchen table. Evidently
Mr. Anson would not brook questions
as to his movement, though his few
words sounded contradictory. Green
got down, unfastened the portmanteau
and went back to the dogcart.
"They're queer folk V f grange,"
said the stable boy, as they drove
away. "There's a barrow night and a
lady as nobody ever sees, an' a doch
tor, an' a man—him as kern for ye."
"Surely they are well known here?"
"Not a bit of it. On'y bin here
about a week. T' doctor chap's very
chirpy, but yon uther Is a rum 'un."
Green was certainly puzzled very
greatly by the unexpected develop
ments of the last few minutes, but
he was discreet and well trained.
He likod his young master, and
would do anything to serve his inter
ests. Moreover, the ways of million
aires were not the ways of other men.
All he could do was to hear and obey.
He slept none the less soundly be
cause his master chose voluntarily to
bury himself, even for a little while,
in such a wlerdly tumble-down old
mansion as the Grange house.
REVENGE IS MINE; I W If,l, REPAT
"Can't I have a light?" said Philip,
with head screwed round to ascertain
if the doctor were following him.
Some sense, whether of sight or
hearing he knew not, warned him of
movement near at hand, an Impalp
able effort, a physical tension as of a
man laboring under extreme but re
pressed excitement-
He paid little heed to it. All the
surroundings ln this weird dwelling
were so greatly at variance with his
anticipations that he partly expected
to find further surprises.
Dr. Williams did not answer. Philip
advanced a halting foot, a hesitating
hand groping for a door.
Instantly a stout rope fell over his
shoulders, a noose was tightly drawn
and he was jerked violently to the
stone floor of the passage. He fell
prone on his face, hurting his nose
and mouth. The shock Jarred him
greatly, but hla hands, if not his arms
were free, and, with the Instinct ot
•elf-preservation that replaces all
other sensations ln moments of ex
treme peril, he strove valiantly to
rise.
But he was grasped by the neck
with brutal force, and some one knelt
on his back.
"Philip Anson," hissed a man's
voice, "do you remember Jocky Ma
son?"
So he had fallen Into a trap cun
ningly prepared by what fiendish com
bination of fact and artifice he had
yet to learn. Jocky Mason, the skulk
ing criminal of Johnson's Mews. Was
he in that man's power?
Under such conditions a man thinks
quickly. Philip's first ordered thought
was one of relief. He had fallen Into
the clutches of an English brigand.
Money would Bettle this difficulty, if
all other means failed.
"Tea, yes," he gurgled, half stran
gled by the fierce pressure on his
throat.
"You bit me once from behind. Yen
can't complain If I do tbe same. Yon
sent me to a living; hell for 10 yeara
—not your fault that It wasn't for
ever. Ue still! Not all you r money
can save yon now. I am Judge and
Jury, and bell Itself. Yon are dying—
dying ' dead!"
And with the final words drawled
into his earn with bitter intensity,
Philip felt a terrible blow descend on
his head. There was no pain, no fear,
no poignant emotion of leaving all the
world held so dear to him. There was
an awful shock. A thunder cloud
seemed to burst ln his brain, and he
sank into the void without a groan.
Now, ln falling the hard felt hat he
wore dropped ln front of his face. The
first wild movement of his head tilted
lt forward, but the savage jerk given
by his assailant brought the rim
slightly over his skull again.
In tbe almost complete darkness of
the passage Mason could not see the
slight protection thiß afforded to his
victim, and the sledge hammer blow
he delivered with a life-preserver—
that murderous Implement named so
utterly at variance with its purpose—
did no reveal the presence of an ob
stacle.
He struck with a force that would
have i unned an ox; it must have
killed any man, be he the hardest
skullerl aborlgne that ever breathed.
But the stout rim of the hat, though
crushed like an egg shell, took off
some of the leaden instrument's tre
mendous impact. Philip, though quite
insensible, was not dead. His sentient
faculties were annihilated for the
time, but his heart continued its Ufa
Chills Are Something You Can't Possibly Argue About
Copyright, 1913, International News Service.
giving functions, and he breathed with
Imperceptible nutterings.
THE COWARDLY VILLAIN
Mason rose, panting with excite
ment, glutted with satisfied hate. He
lifted his victim's inert form with the
ease of his great strength.
"Come on!" he shouted, and strode
, toward a door which he kicked open.
A steep sounded haltingly in the
passage. Grenier, the soi-dlsant doc
tor, livid now and shaking with the
ague of irretrievable crime, stumbled
after his more callous associate. Un
consciously he kicked Phtlipe hat to
one side. He entered the room, an
apartment with a boundless view of
the sea-
Here there was more light than in
the kitchen. The windows faced to
ward the northwest, and the last radi
ance of a setting sun illumined a wall
on the right.
"Not there!" he gasped. "In this
Chair; his face—l must see his face!"
Mason, still clasping his Inanimate
burden, laughed with a snarl.
"Stop that!" he roared, "Pull your
self together. Get some brand. I've
done my work. If you can't do yours,
let me finish it."
"Oh, just a moment! Give me time!
I hate the sight of blood. Get a
towel. Bind it round his neck. His
clothes! They will be saturated. And.
wipe his face. I must see his face."
Grenier was hysterical; he had the
highly strung nervous system of a
girl where deeds of bloodshed were
concerned. While Mason obeyed his
instructions, he pressed his hands over
his eyes.
"Bring some brandy, white liver.
Do you want me to do everything?"
The gruff order awoke Grenier to
trembling action. He went to a cup
board and procured a bottle. Mason,
having placed Anson ln a chair and
steadied his head against the wall,
seized half a tumblerful of the neat
spirit and drank it with gusto. The
other, graually recovering his self
control, was satisfied with a less po
tential draught.
"It will be dark soon," growled Ma
son. "We must undress him first, you
said."
"Yea If his clothes are not blood
stained."
"Rot! I forgot. It will soon be all
right. Besides, I knew I should be
upset, so I have everything written
down here —all fullyj thought out.
There can be no mistake made then."
He produced a little notebook and
opened lt with uncertain fingers. He
glanced at a closely written page. The
words danced before bis vision, but he
persevered.
And JuSt as Skinny Was There With a Comeback
• "Copyright. 1913, International News Service.
"Yes. His coat first. Then his boots.
Clothes or linen standed with blood
to be burned, after cutting off 11 but
tons. Now, I'm ready. I will not funk
any more."
His temperament linßed the artistic
and criminal faculties in sinister com
bination, and he soon recovered his
domination ln a guilty partnership. It
must have been the instinct of the
pickpocket that led him to appropriate
Philip's watch, with its quaint shoe
lace attachment, before he touched
any other article.
THE WATCH
"Queer thing," he commented. "A
rich man might afford a better time
keeper. But there's no accounting for
tastes."
Mason, satiated and stupefied, obeyed
his instructions like a ministering
ghoul. They undressed Philip wholly,
and Grenier, rapidly denuding himself
of his boots and outer clothing, donned
these portions of the victim's attire.
Then the paint tubes and the other
accessories of an actor's makeup were
produced, Grenier, facing a mirror
I Flavor, fragrance, packing, variety, I
I price—everything is in favor of I
A Good Chance Gone
Copyright, 1913, International Mew* Serrio*,
placed on a table close to Philip, be
gan to remodel his own plastic fea
tures in close similitude to those of
the unconscious man. He was greatly
assisted by the fact that in general
contour they were not strikingly dif
ferent.
Philip's face was of a fine, classical
type; Grenier. whose nose, mouth and
chin were regular and pleasing, found
the greatest difficulty ln controlling
the shifty, ferretlike expression of his
eyes. Again, Philip had no mustache.
The only costume he really liked to
wear was his yachting uniform, and
here he conformed to the standard of
the navy. The shaven lip. of course,
was helpful to his imitator. All that
was needed was an artistic eye for the
chief effect, combined with a skulled
use of his material. And herein Gre
nier was an adept.
But the light was growing very un
certain.
"A lamp," he said, querulously, for
time sped and he had much to do;
"bring a lamp quickly."
Mason-went toward the front kitchen.
Grenier did not care about being left
alone, face to face with the pallid and
naked form in the chair, but he set
his teeth and repressed the tendency
to rush after his confederate.
The latter, In returning, baited an
Instant.
"Hello!" he cried. "Here's his hat."
After placing the lamp on the table
beside the mirror, he went back to
the passage.
Grenier was so busy with the mak
[ing up process that he did not notice
what his companion was doing. His
bent form shrouded the light, and
Mason placed the hat carelessly on a
I chair. He chanced to hold it by an
uninjured part of the rim, and never
thought of examining it.
At last Grenier declared himself
satisfied.
"What do you think of the result,?"
he demanded, facing about so that tiie
other could see both Anson and him
self.
"First rate. It would deceive his
mother."
Continued Tomorrow