The Elbert County tribune. [volume], April 23, 1915, Image 2

About The Elbert County tribune. [volume] (Elbert, Elbert County, Colo.) 18??-1920

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The Exploits of Elaine
A Detective Novel and a Motion Picture Drama
By ARTHUR B. REEVE
The Well-Known Novelist and the
Creator of the "Craig Kennedy” Stories
Presented in Collaboration With the Pathe Players and the Eclectic Film Company
Copyright, 1914, by the St»r Company Ail foreign Bight* Referred
BVNOPSIB.
Thf NVff York police ar»* mystified by a
series of murder.** and other crltneM. The
principal clue to the criminal in the !
warnlriK letter which Is sent the victim*,
signed with a “clutching hand." The lat
est victim of the mysterious ajt*H»*ln 1*
Taylor Hodge, the Insurutic*- president.
His daughter. Elaine, employs f*ralg Ken
nedy. the famuli* scientific detective, to
try to unravel the mystery. What Ken
nedy accomplishes is told by his friend
Jameson, u newspaper man. Enraged at
the determined effort which Blaine and
Craig Kennedy are making to put an end
to In* crimen, the <'hitching Hand, ns
this strange criminal Is known, resorts to
nil sorts of the most diabolical schemes to
put them out of the way. Each chapter
of the story tells of a new plot against
lheir lives and of the way the great de
tective uses all his skill to save this pretty
girl and himself from death.
TENTH EPISODE
THE LIFE CURRENT.
Assignments were being given out
on the Star one afternoon, and I was
standing talking with several other
reporters, In the busy hum of type
writers and clicking telegraphs.
"What do you think of that?" uaked
one of the fellows "You’re something
of a nclentlflc detective, aren't you?”
Without laving claim to such a
distinction, I took the paper and read:
THE POISONED KISS AGAIN.
Three More New York Women Report
Being Kissed by Mysterious Stranger
—Later Fell Into Deep Unconscious*
ness—What Is It?
I hail scarcely finished when one of
the copy boys, dashing past me. called
out: "You’re wanted on the wire, Mr.
Jameson.”
I hurried over to the telephone and j
answered.
A musical voice responded to my j
hurried hello, and I hastened to |
adopt my most polite tone.
"Is this Mr. Jameson?" asked the j
voice.
“Yes," I replied, not recognizing It.
“Well, Mr. Jameson. I’ve heard of
you on the Star, and I’ve just had a
very strange experience. I've had
the poisoned lnss.”
The woman did not pause to catch
my exclamation of astonishment, but
■went on: "It was like this. A man
ran up to rpe on the street and kissed
me—and—l don’t know how it was—
hut. I became unconscious—and I
didn’t come to for an hour —in a hos
pital—fortunately. I don’t know what
would have happened if it hadn’t been
that someone came to my assistance
and the man fled. I thought the Star
would be Interested."
”We are,” I hastened to reply. "Will
you give me your name?"
"Why,* I am Mrs. Florence I.elgh of ’
No. 20 Prospect avenue." returned the
voice
“Say,"» I exclaimed hurrying over
to the editor’s desk, "here’s another
woman on the wire who says she has
received the poisoned kiss.’’
"Suppose you take that assignment.”
the editor answered, sensing a possi
ble story.
I took It with alacrity, figuring out
the quickest way by elevated and sur
face to reach the address.
I must say that I could scarcely crit
icize the poisoned kisser's taste, for
the woman who opened the door cer
tainly was extraordinarily attractive.
"And you really were—put out by
a kiss?” I'queried. as she led me Into
u neat sitting room.
“Absolutely—ns much as if It had
been by one of these poisoned needles
you road about,” she replied confident
ly, hastening on to describe the affair
volubly.
It was beyond me.
"May 1 use your telephone?” 1
asked.
“Surely," she answered.
I called the laboratory. “Is that you,
Craig?” I inquired.
"Yea. Walter,” he answered, recog
nizing my voice.
"Say, Craig." I asked breathlessly,
"what sort of kiss would suffocate a
person?"
My only answer was an uproarious
laugh from him at the Idea.
"I know," I persisted, "but I’ve got
the assignment from the Star—and
I'm out hero interviewing a woman
about it. It’s all*right to laugh—but
here 1 ain. I’ve found a case—names,
dates and places. I wish you’d explain
the thing, then.”
“Ob, all right, W f alter." he replied
Indulgently. ‘Til meet you us soon as
1 can and help you out.”
We waited patiently.
The bell rang and the woman
hastened to tho door, admitting Ken
nedy.
"Hello. Waiter," ho greeted.
“This is certainly most remnrk
able case, Craig,” I said, Introducing
him. and telling briefly what I had
learned.
“And you actually mean to say that
a kiss had tho efTect —”
Just then the telephone interrupted.
"Yes." she reasserted quickly. “Ex
cuse 'me a second.’’
She answered the call. “Oh —why
—yes, he’s here. Do you want to speak
to him? Mr. Jameson, it's the Star."
"Confound It!” 1 exclaimed, “isn’t
thet like the old man- dragging me ofT
this story before it’s half finished In
order to got another. I*H have to go.
I’ll get this story from you, Craig "
* • * * * • «
The day before, in tho suburban
house, the Clutching Hand had been
tulking to two of his emissaries, an at
tractive young woman and a man.
They were Flirty Florrle ami Dan
the Dude.
"Now, I want you to get Kennedy."
ho said. "The way to do It is to sep
arate Kennedy and Elaine see?"
"All right, Chief, we’ll do It," they
replied.
Clutching Hand had scarcely left
when Flirty Florrle began by gettfhg
published in the papers the story
which I had seen.
The next day she called me up from
the suburban house. Having got me
to promise to see her. she had scarce
ly turned from the telephone when
Dan the Dude walked in from the next
room.
"He's coming.” she said.
Dan was carrying a' huge stag head
with a beautifully branched pair of
antlers. I'nder his arm was a coll or
wiro which he had connected to the
inside of the head.
"Fine!" he exclaimed. Then, point
ing to the head, he added. "It's all
ready. See how I fixed it? That ought
to ploase the Chief.
Dan moved quickly to the mantel
and mounted a stepladder there by
which he had taken down the head,
and started to replace the head above
the mantel.
He hooked the head on a nail.
"There." he said, unscrewing one of
the beautiful brown glass eyes of the
stag.
Back of It could be seen a camera
shutter.
“One of those new quick shutter
cameras," he explained.
Then he ran a couple of wires along
tho molding around the room and into
a closet, where he made the connec
tion with a sort of switchboard on
wliifch a button was marked, “SHUT
TER" and the switch. "WIND FILM."
"Now. Flirty," he said, coming out
of the closet and pulling up the shnde
which let a flood of sunlight into the
room, "you see, I want you to stand
here —then, do your little trick."
Just .then the bell rang.
"That must be Jameson," she cried.
“Now —get to your corner.”
With a last look Dan went into the
closet and shut the door.
Perhaps half an hour later Clutching
Hand himself called me up on the
telephone. It was he —not the Star —-
as l learned only too late.
• * * • * • •
I had scarcely got out of the house,
as Craig told me afterwards, when
Flirty Florrle told all over again the
embroidered tale that had caught iny
ear.
Kennedy said nothing, but listened
intently, perhaps betraying in his face
the skepticism he felt.
"You see," she said, still voluble and
eager to convince hint, "I was only
walking on the street. Here —let me
show you. It was just like this.”
She took his arm and. before he
knew, it, led him to the spot on the
floor near the window which Dan had
indicated. Meanwhile Dan was lis
tening attentively in his closet.
"Now—stand there. You are just
as I was —only I didn't expect any
thing."
She was pantomiming some one ap
proaching stealthily while Kennedy
watched her with interest, tinged with
doubt. Behind Craig in his closet.
Dan was reaching for the switchboard
button.
"You see,’’ she said advancing
1 quickly and acting her words, "he
placed his hands on my shoulders—
so—then threw his arms about my
neck —so!"
She said no more, but Imprinted a
deep. pasßlonate kiss on Kennedv’s
mouth, clinging closely to him. Be
fore Kennedy could draw away, Dan
in the closet, had pressed the but
ton and the switch several times in
rapid succession.
"Th —that's very realistic,” gasped
Craig, a good deal taken aback by the
sudden osculatory assault.
He frowned.
"I—l’ll look into th€> case." he said,
backing away. "There —there may be
some scientific explanation—but—
er" —
He was plainly embarrassed and
hastened to make his adieux.
• ***•*•
How little impression the thing
mndo on Kennedy can be easily seen
from tho fact that on the way down
town that afternoon he stopped at
Martin’s, on Fifth avenue, and bought
a ring—a very handsome solitaire, the
finest Martin had in the shop.
It must have been about the time
that he decided to stop at Martin’s
that the Dodge butler, Jennings, ad
mitted a young lady who presented a
card on which was engraved the
name
Misa Florence Leigh,
20 Prospect Avenue.
As ho handed Elaine the- card, she
looked up from the book she was read
ing and took It
“All right, show her In, Jennings.
I’ll see her.”
ELBERT COUNTY TRIBUNE
' Elaine moved into the drawing room,
Jennings springing forward to part the
' portieres for her and passing through
the room quickly where Flirty Florrle
i sat waiting. Flirty Florrie rose and
stood gazing at Elaine, apparently
very much embarrassed, even after
Jennings bad gone.
"It Is embarrassing,” she said final
Iy. "but. Miss Dodge, I have come to
you to beg for my love.”
Elaine looked at her nonplused.
"Yes,” she continued, "you do not
know it, but Craig Kennedy Is infatu
ated with you.” She paused again,
then added, "But he is engaged to me."
Elaine stared at the woman. She
was dazed. She could not believe it.
‘ There is the ring.” Flirty Florrie
added, indicating a very impressive ;
paste diamond.
Quickly she reached into her bag
and drew out two photographs, with- j
out a word, handing them to Elaine
“There’s the proof," Florrie said :
Himply, choking a sob.
Elaine looked with a start. Sure J
enough, there was the neat living room j
in the house on Prospect avenue. In
one picture Florrie had her arms over 1
Kennedy’s shoulders. In the other,
apparently, they were passionately
kissing.
Elaine slowly laid the photographs
on the table.
"Please—please. Misa Dodge—give
me back my lost love. You are rich
and beautiful—l am poor. I have only
my good looks. But —I —l love him —
and he—loves me—and has promised
fo marry me."
Florrie had broken down completely
and was weeping softly into a lace
handkerchief.
She moved toward the door. Elaine
followed her.
"Jennings—please see the lady to
the door.”
Back in the drawing-room, Elaine
seized the photographs and hurried
into the library where she could bo
alone.
Just then she heard the bell and
Kennedy’s voice in the hall.
"How are you this afternoon," Ken
nedy greeted Elaine gayly.
Elaine had been too overcome by
what had just happened to throw it
ofT bo easily, and received him with
studied coolness.
Still, Craig, manlike, did not notice
it at once. In fact, he was too busy
gazing about to see that neither Jen
nings. Marie nor the duenna Aunt Jo
sephine were visible. They were not
and he quiokly took the ring from
his pocket. Without waiting, he
showed it to Elaine.
Elaine very coolly admired the ring,
as Craig might have eyed a specimen
on a microscope slide. Still, he did
not notice.
He took the ring, about to put it
on her finger. Elaine drew away.
Concealment was not in her frank na
ture.
She picked up the two photographs.
"What have you to say about
those?” she asked cuttingly.
Kennedy, quite surprised, took them
and looked at them. Then he let them
fall carelessly on the table and
dropped into a chair, his head back in
a burst of laughter.
"Why—that was what they put over
on Walter,” he said. “He called me
up early this afternoon —told me he
had discovered one of these poisoned
kiss cases you have read about in the
papers. Think of it—all that to pull
a concealed camera! Such an elabo
rate business —just to get me where
they could fake this thing, i sup
pose they've put someone up to say
ing she’s engaged?”
Elaine was not so lightly affected.
"But," she said severely, repressing
her emotion, "I d6n’t understand, Mr.
Kennedy, how scientific inquiry into
’the poisoned kiss’ could necessitate
this sort of thing."
She pointed at the photographs ac
cusingly.
“But," he began, trying to explain.
"No buts," she interrupted.
“Then you believe that I—”
“How can you, as a scientist, ask me
to doubt the camera?” she insinuated,
very coldly turning away.
Kennedy rapidly began to see that
it was far more serious than he had at
first thought.
"Very well,” he said with a touch of
impatience, “if my word is not to be
taken—l—l’ll —”
He had seized his hat and stick.
Elaine did not deign to answer.
Then, without a word, he stalked
out of the door.
• ***•*•
Kennedy was moping in the labora
tory the next day when I came In.
“Say, Craig,” I began, trying to over
come his fit of blues.
Kennedy. filled with his own
thoughts, paid no attention to me.
Then he jumped up.
"By George—l will,” he muttered.
I poked my head out of the door in
time to see him grab up his hat and
coat and dash from the room, put
ting his coat on ns he went.
“He’s a nut today," I exclaimed to
myself.
Though I did not know yet of the
quarrel, Kennedy had really struggled
with himself until he was willing to
put his pride in his pocket ami had
made up his mind to call on Elaine
again.
As he entered he saw that it was
really of no use, for only Aunt Jo
sephine was in the library.
“Oh, Mr. Kennedy," she said inno
cently enough, “I’m so sorry she isn’t
here. There’s been something trou
bling her, and she won’t tell me what
it Is. But she’s gone to call on- a
young woman, a Florence Leigh, I
think."
"Florenco Leigh!” exclaimed Craig
| with a start and a frown. "Let me
use your telephone."
‘ I had turned my attention in the
1 laboratory to a atory I was writing,
As "Craig Kennedy Turn* on the Current Elaine’s Chest Slowly Begins to
Rise and Fall.
when I heard the telephone ring. It
was Craig. Without a word of apology
for his rudeness, which I knew had
been purely absent-minded, I heard
him say: "Walter, meet me in half
an hour outside that Florence Leigh’s
house.”
*••••••
Half an hour later I wan waiting
near the house in the suburbs to
which I had been directed by the
strange telephone call the day before.
1 noticed that it was apparently de
serted. The blinds were closed and a
"To Let” sign was on the side of the
house.
“Hello, Walter,” cried Craig at last,
bustling along.
He led the way around the side of
the house to a window, and. with a
powerful grasp, wrenched open the
closed shutters. He had just smashed
the window when a policeman ap
peared.
“Hey, you fellows —what are you
doing there?” he shouted.
Craig paused a second, then pulled
his card from his pocket.
"Just the man I want,” he parried,
much to the policeman’s surprise.
"There’s something crooked going on
hero Follow us In."
We climbed into the window. There
was the same living room we had
seen the day before. But it was now
bare and deserted.
"Come on," cried Kennedy, beckon
ing us on.
Quickly he rushed through the
house. There was not a thing in it to
change the deserted appearance of
the first floor. At last it occurred to
Craig to grope his way 'down cellar.
There was nothing there.
Kennedy had been carefully going
o vet the place, and was at the other
side of the cellar from ourselves
when I saw him stop and gaze at the
floor
" Hide.” he whispered suddenly to
us.
We waited a moment. Nothing hap
pened. Had he been seeing things or
hearing things, I wondered?
From our hidden vantage we could
now see a square piece in the floor,
perhaps five feet in diameter, slowly
open up as though on a pivot.
The weird and sinister figure of a
man appeared. Over his head he wore
a peculiar helmet with hideous glass
pieces over the eyes and tubes that
connected with a tank which he car
ried buckled to bis back.
Quickly he closed down the cover of
the tube, but not before a vile effluvi
um seemed to escape, and penetrate
even to us in our hiding places. As
he moved forward, Kennedy gave a
flying leap at him, and we followed
with a regular football Interference.
It was the work of only a moment
for us to subdue and hold him, while
Craig ripped off the helmet.
It was Dan tho Dude.
“What’s that thing?" I puffed, as 1
helped Craig with the headgear.
“An oxygen helmet.” he replied.
“There must be air down the tube that
cannot be breathed."
He went over to tho tube. Carefully
he opened the top and 'gazed down,
starting back a second later, with his
face puckered up at the noxious odor.
"Sewer gas," he ejaculated, as he
slammed the cover down. Then he
added to the policeman: “Where do
you suppose It comes from?"
"Why." replied the officer, “the St.
James viaduct —an old sewer—is some
where about these parts.”
Kennedy puckered his face as he
gazed at our prisoner. He reached
down quickly and lifted something ofT
the man’s coat.
“Golden hair," he muttered.
“Elaine’s!”
A moment later he seized the man
and shook him roughly.
“Where Is she —tell me?” he de
manded
The man snarled some kind of a re
ply, refusing to say a word about her.
"Tell me," repeated Kennedy.
"Humph!" snorted the prisoner, more
close-mouthed than ever.
Kennedy was furious. As he sent
th'* man reeling away from him he
seized the oxygen helmet and began
putting it on. There was only one
thing to do—to follow the clue of the
golden strands of hair.
Down into the pest hole he went, his
head protected by the oxvgen helmet.
As he cautiously took one step after
another down a series of iron rungs
Inside the hole, he found that the wa
ter was up to his chest. At the bot
tom of the perpendicular pit was a
narrow, low passageway leading off.
It was Just about big enough to get
through, but ho managed to grope
along it.
The minutes passed ar. tho police
man and I watched our prisoner in the
cellar by the tube. I looked anxiously
at my watch.
“Craig!" I shouted at last, unable
to control my fears for him.
No answer.
By this time Craig had come to a
small, open chamber, Into which the
viaduct widened On the wall he found
another series of iron rungs, up which
he climbed. The gas was terrible
As he neared the top of the ladder
he came to a shelf-like aperture in the
sewer chamber, and gazed about. It
was horribly darlj. He reached out
and felt a piece of cloth. Anxiously he
pulled on it Then he reached further
into the darkness.
There was Elaine, unconscious, ap
parently dead.
In desperation Craig carried her
down the ladder.
With our prisoner we could only look
helplessly around.
"By George, I’m going down after
him," I cried in desperation.
"Don’t do it," advised the police
man. “‘You’ll never get out ”
One whiff of the horrible gas told me
that he was right.
“Listen.’ said the policeman
There was, indeed, a faint noise from
the black depths below us. A ropo
alongside the rough ladder began to
move, as though some one was pulling
it taut. He gazed down.
"Craig! Craig!" I called. “Is that
you?"
No answer. But the rope still
moved. Perhaps the helmet made It
impossible for him to hear.
He had struggled back in the swirl
ing current almost exhausted by his
helpless burden. Holding Elaine’s
head above the surface of the water
and pulling on the rope to attract my
attention, he could neither hear nor
shout. He had taken a turn of the rope
about Elaine. I tried pulling on it.
There was something heavy on the
other end, and I kept on pulling.
At last l could make out Kennedy
dimly mounting tho ladder. The
weight was the unconscious body of
Elaine which he steadied as he mount
ed the ladder. I tugged harder and he
slowly came up.
Together, at last, the policeman and
I reached down and pulled them out.
We placed Elaine on the cellar floor,
as comfortably as was possible, and
the policeman began his first aid mo
tions for resuscitation.
“No —no!” cried Kennedy. “Not
here —take her up where the air is
fresher.”
With his revolver still drawn to
overawe the prisoner, the policeman
forced him to aid us in carrying her
up the rickety flight of cellar steps.
Kennedy followed quickly, unscrewing
the oxygen helmet as he went.
In the deserted living room we de
posited our senseless burden, while
Kennedy, the helmet off now, bent
over her.
“Quick —quick!” he cried to the offi
cer. "An ambulance!”
“But the prisoner," the policeman
indicated
"Hurry—hurry; I’ll take care of
him,” urgfd Craig, seizing the police
man’s pistol and thrusting it into his
pocket. “Walter, help me.”.
He was trying the ordinary methods
of resuscitation. Meanwhile the offi
cer had hurried out, seeking the near
est telephone, while we worked madly
to bring Elaine back.
Agnin and again Kennedy bent and
outstretched her arms, trying to in
duce respiration again. So busy was
I that for the moment I forgot our
prisoner.
But Dan had seen his chance.
Noiselessly he picked up the old chair
in the room and with it raised was ap
proaching Kennedy to knock him out.
Before I knew It myself Kennedy
had heard him. With a half instinc
tive motion he drew the revolver from
his pocket and, almost before I could
see it. had shot the man. Without a
word he returned the gun to his pock
et and again bent over Elaine, without
so much as a look at the crook, who
sank to the floor, dropping the chair
from his nerveless hands.
Already the policeman had got an
ambulance, which was now tearing
along to us.
Frantically Kennedy was working
A moment he paused and looked at
me—hopeless.
Just then, outside, we could hear
the ambiance, and a doctor and twq
’ attendants hurried up .to th* door.
Without a word the doctor seemed to
appreciate the gravity of the case.
| He finished bis examination and
: shook his head.
i "There is no hope—no hope,” he
said slowly
Kennedy merely stared at him But
the rest of us instinctively removed
our hats.
Kennedy gazed at Elaine, overcome.
Was this the end?
It was not many minutes later that
Kennedy had Elaine in the little sit- l
ting room off the laboratory, having
taken her there in the ambulance,
with the doctor and two attendqfits.
Elaine's body had been placed on a
couch, covered by a blanket, and the
I shades were drawn. The light fell on
her pale face
There was something incongruous
about death and the vast collection of
scientific apparatus, a ghastly mock
ing of humanity How futile was it
all in the presence of the great de
stroyer!
Aunt Josephine had 'arrived,
stunned, and a moment later Perry
Bennett. As I looked at the sorrowful •
party Aunt Josephine rose slowly
from her position on her knees, where
she had been weeping silently beside
Elaine, and pressed her hands over
her eyes, with every indication of
faintness
Before any of us could do anything,
she had staggered into the laboratory
itself. Bennett and 1 followed quick
ly. There I was busy for some time
getting restoratives.
Meanwhile Kennedy, beside the
couch, with an air of desperate deter
mination turned away and opened a
cabinet. From it he took a large coil
and attached it to a storage battery,
dragging the peculiar apparatus near
Elaine’s couch.
To an electric light socket Craig
attached wires. The doctor watched .
him in silent wonder. ™
“Doctor," he asked slowly as he
worked, “do you know of Professor
Leduc of the Nantes School of Medi
cine?”
"Why—yes.” answered the doctor,
"but what of him?”
“Then you know of his method of
electrical resuscitation.”
"Yes—but"—he paused, looking ap
prehensively at Kennedy.
Craig phid no attention to his fears,
but. approaching the couch on which
Elaine lay, applied the electrodes.
“You see.” he explained, with forced
calmness. “I apply the anode here —
the cathode there."
The ambulance surgeon looked on
excitedly, as Craig turned on the cur
rent. applying it to the back of the
neck and to the spine
For some minutes the machine
worked.
Then the young doctor’s eyes began
to bulge.
“My heavens!” he cried under his
breath. "Look!” .<
Elaine's chest had slowly risen and
fallen. Kennedy, his attention riveted
on his work, applied himself with re
doubled efforts. The young doctor
looked on with increased wonder.
“Look! The color in her face! See t
her lips!" he cried.
At last her eyes slowly fluttered
open—then closed.
Would the machine succeed? Or
was it just the galvanic effect of the
current? The doctor noticed it and
— *
Elaine Confronts Kennedy With the
“Poisoned Kiss” Photographs.
placed his ear quickly to her heart.
His face was a study in astonishment.
The minutes sped fast. *
To us outside, who had no idea what
was transpiring in the other room,
the minutes were leaden-footed. Aunt
Josephine, weak but now herself
again, was sitting nervously.
Just then the door opened.
I shall never forget the look on the
young ambulance surgeon’s face as he f
murmured under his breath, “Come
here —the age of miracles is not
passed—look! ”
Raising his finger to indicate that
we were to make no noise, he led us *1
Into the other room.
Kennedy was bending over the
couch.
Elaine, her eyes open now, was gaz
ing up at him. and a wan smile flitted
over her beautiful face.
Kennedy had taken her hand, and
as he heard us enter, turned half way
to us. while we stared in blank wuu
der from Elaine to the weird and
complicated electrical apparatus. *
"It’s the life current,” he said sim
ply, patting the Leduc apparatus wrltk
I his other hand.
(TO BJ3 CONTINDanj