The Elbert County tribune. [volume], June 30, 1916, Image 2

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

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The IRON
CLAW
AUTHOR. OF “THE OCCASIONAL OFFENDER "
“THE WIRE TAPPERS," “GUN RUNNERS," ETC.
NOVELIZED FROM THE PATHE PHOTO PLAY OF THE SAME NAME
■ IQWKtlTt. Wit. »r A»TOV» IT.IHCH .
BYNOPBIB.
On Windward Island Palldorl Intrljcuos
Mrs. Golden »nlo an appearance of ; vll
which causes Golden to capturo and tor
ture the 1 1 nlInn by branding his face and
crushing his hand. Palldorl opens the
dyke gates and floods the Island and In
the general rush to escape the Hood kid
naps Golden's stx-year-old daughter Mar-
Sory. Twelvo year’s later in New York a
(asked One calling himself "the Hammer
of God" rescues aa eighteen-year-old g.ri
from (ho cadet Casavuntl. to whom Jules
l,cgar has delivered her, and t&k-s her t>
the homo of Ufiorh Golden, rnhllonalre,
whence she Is recaptured by Logoi Legur
And Stein are discovered by Manle>. Gol
den’s secretary, setting fire to Golden’s
buildings, but escape. Margory’s mother
fruitlessly Implores Knoch Golden to
find their daughter. The Masked One
Again takes Margory away from Legar
l-ogar loots the Third National bank, but
again the Luughlug Mask frustrates his
plans.
FIFTH EPISODE:
fTHE INTERVENTION OF TITO
David Manloy was not altogether
proud of hia day’s work. As he sat
tied and bound on the rough brick
floor boneath tho Owl’s Most that once
flippant minded young man oven ac
knowledged that things looked rather
bad for h?m. 110 had boen made a
prlsonor. Tho iron claw of Legar had
reached suddenly out and closed about
biin.
But David Manley did not altogether
give up. Ah he lay there, soro In body,
but even moro battered In mind, ho
still spasmodically struggled with the
cords that hold him hand and foot.
Tho solitude of that unsavory den
did not add to his comfort. The mere
fact that Lbgar could see fit to leave a
prlsonor thus unguarded Impressed
tho prisoner with the fact that his one
armed enemy was only too well as
sured of his power. And tho moro
Manley thought of I-ogar and his meth
odn tho moro that sinister liguro seems
to bewilder him. Me knew that I-egar
was tho unrelenting and eternal enemy
of Knoch Golden, just us he had been
the enemy of Golden’s daughter Mar
gorv.
Tho thought of Margory directed
JMnnley’n mind back to tho earlier
events of that strange dny. Ho recalled
bis long talk with that quiet-eyed girl
In tho quiet toned shadows of tho
Golden library It had been the first
talk between them into which the per
sonal note had entered. He had en
joyed that talk, for he had felt, as it
progreosod, that tho girl had begun to
realize ho was her friend, that he want
ed to ho her frlond.
But tho quietness of the Golden
borne had proved to bo nothing more
than a lull which procodos the sud
den storm. For, five minutes after he
left the Bmlltag girl, the Golden
butlor, with terror in his eyes, had
come running to him saying there was
a stranger in the house, a stranger
who had been soon lurking about tho
halls and hai promptly disappeared
at the sight of one of the servants.
80 Manley, forgetting everything else,
had promptly Joined in the search for
that mysterious intruder. And his first
•thought, after doing so, had been for
Margory Golden.
Hurrying to the library to make sure
of her safoty, he had found her seated
•at her father’s desk, quietly talking
over the telephone. And there had
been little in that scene not Buggestive
©f tranquillity. For blinking placidly
jfrvwn train Its perch beside her had
atood Tito, Margory Ooldcn’s newly
acquired parrot, for which Manley him
self had small love. This feeling was
based, not so much on the malevolent
air of wisdom surrounding that green
bodied filcher of human phrases, as on
the somewhat disturbing trick, taught
It by some earlier master, of seeking
put gas jetr and turning them on the
moment it was freed from Its chain.
Yet as It had stood close beside the
girl so busily talking over tho tele
phone it had seemed as companionably
Innocent as a canary. And it had
turned to blink sagely at Manley as the
flrl, apparently unconscious of his
presence, had crossed to the iiahogany
•faced vault «ct In the library wall and
proceeded to open Its ponderous door.
This had startled Manley not a little,
for the combination of that vault was
ft secret Jealously guarded by Golden,
ft secrot unknown to Manley himself.
It was not until she stood with tho
massive door swung open that Manley
bad confronted her. But sho showed
no embarrassment at his sudden inter
ruption.
“My father has just phoned from
Philadelphia,” sho explained. “Thcro
ftre certain papers he must have for
biS| conference with tho Regent Trust
company tomorrow.”
“But when did you fiud out how to
open that door?” had been Manley's
Inquiry.
“Two minutes ago. over the tele
phone,” had been the girl's reply.
“Then tho sooner that door is shut
ftnd locked again the better,” he had
warned her.
“Why?” she had asked, for the first
time conscious of his oxcitement.
“Because there's an unknown man
feeding somewhere in this house, and
'heaven only knows what he's after.
Is times l’ke these!”
Evpn as bo bad spoken Mauley had
detected an unnatural fullness about
ttx# portiere * raping the side door to
by ARTHUR
STRINGER
the library. And on tho polished par
quet floor at the bottom of that portiere
the toe of a man's shoe had been
plainly visible. Yet Golden's secre
tary had waited until the girl had
closed and locked the vault door. Then
he had leaped for the figure behind
tho drapory.
But that intruder behind tho drapery
had apparently not been altogether
unconscious of tho danger confronting
him. He had at the same moment
side-stopped nimbly through the quick
ly opened door, throwing an approach
ing and suddenly hysterical housemaid
aside as ho had swept post her. The
redoubtable Wilson, who had also at
tempted to block his exit, had even
l. ore promptly gone down, knocked
fiat by one fierce blow. It had been
then, and then only, that Munley dis
covered the Identity of tho intruder
Ho had caught sight of tho scarred
face, which even an ample beard failed
to screen. Ho had seen tho right
arm of wood which ended In Its sin
ister Iron hook, and all doubt as to hia
enemy ha 1 vanished.
But this discovery hod In no way
interfered with Manley's pursuit of
that audacious intruder.
It had not been a pretty fight, that
hand-to-hand contest between tho slim
bodied youth and tho scar-faced ex
ploiter of evil, but it had been a des
perate one. As Manley, pressing stub
bornly on, had struggled to close in
on his opponent, Legar had discreetly
and nimbly backed away until he
found tho double house door Itself
barring his farther retreat. There
upon ho had promptly shattered the
plate-glass backing tho iron grill work
on tho hinges, and had actually swung
one of theso doors open before Manley
could gather himself together and
spring bodily on his escaping enemy.
They had gone down tho broad steps
together, locked arm In arm, fighting
end clawing as ferociously as midnight
cats in a tenement court. And Man-
Icy, with ono hand on I.egar’s leathery
throat, would surely have won, had
not a closed car glided up to tho curb
along which they were writhing and
panting and rolling. From that car a
yellow-faced Italian known as Scoop
had taken a prompt and active part In
the encounter. Ho had withheld
finalities, however, until Manley was
uppermost. T hen, with a quickly
drawn “billy” he had blackjacked that
youth into utter indifference as to
I.egar and mystoriously waiting limou
sine and all tho rest of tho world.
Before Manley’s senses had come
back to him he and the green-feath
ered parrot had been tossed bodily
into the closed car, and, three minutes
before the arrival of the police for
whom the whito-faced girl in the
library had so frantically telephoned,
that mysterious limousine had speeded
off »nto the night, carrying not only
Logar but the youth who had been so
presumptious as to attempt to inter
fere with Legar’a exploits.
But Manley did not altogether give
up. His heart still had tho resilience
of youth, lie still believed in his
star.
What fretted Manley most, however,
was his lack of freedom. Rolling a
little over on his side, he studied min
utely the rough brick floor on which
he lay. After this inspection he
wormed his way carefully from side to
side, lying face down and trying each
row of exposed bricks with his shoe
toe, In the hope of finding one of them
loose.
He had elaborately tested eleven
row’s before ho found any reason for
hope In this direction. A chill of ex
citement ran through his tired body,
in fact, as he discovered one brick
which socmed less securely embedded
in cement than were its fellows. He
worked at it patiently, laboriously,
kicking away small particles of plas
ter, thumping it with his boot heel,
prying at it with his solo until it
rocked free in its row’. Then came
the even sterner task of shifting It
from its place. This he did by turning
about and lying close to it, on his side,
so that the fingers of his tightly im
prisoned hand might come in contact
w’ith its edges. Time after time it fell
back, but in the end he triumphed.
Yet It was not this unearthed brick
w’hich interested him. His attention
was directed towards tho rough-edged
parallelogram where that brick had
rested, for the corners of
this opening, ho soon realized, pro
dded him with a saw edge which in
time might serve to abrade and cut
through the stoutest »f cotton rope.
But the consolation of this hope did
not stay with him long. For even aB
ho started to work, his movements
were interrupted by tho sound of a
ko; in tho heavy iron lock on tho door
that shut him In. Ho rolled over
quickly, twisting about that his ap
parently inert body covered both the
loosened brick and tho spot from
which it had been taken. He con
tinued to lie there as though in a sleep
of exhaustion, for his veiled eyes had
already caught sight of tho two heavy
featured ruffians advancing Intc the
room.
“Let tho poor boob sleep,” warned
the larger man. in a husky whisper.
“He s gain’ to cash in b>->re mornin’!”
“But I’m sick o’ markin’ time down
ELBERT COUNTY TRIBUNE.
in this rat hole. Why can’t Legar get
back here where he belongs and do his
own stickup work?”
“I toll you the doc’s up to the Gol
den house m&kin’ his haul when the
coast’s clear! And If you wake that
king there you’ll have to cut out the
red-eye and keep busy chokin’ off his
holler!”
Manley could hear their shuffling
feet as they recrossed the rough floor
ing and then the scrape and rasp of
tho rusty lock as they once more
turned tho key in the door. But the
moment they were gone he was once
more busy with the cotton rope about
his wrists, for what ho had overheard
Increased hia passion for liberty.
When a man, however, is still youth
fully blind enough to believe in his
start, to nurse the delusion that some
special genius has singled him out and
watches over him, he is not easily dis
couraged. Yet discouragement came,
and came In a form most unexpected,
even before Manley’s hands were free.
It came, in fact, in tho form of a
green-bodied parrot creeping stealthily
through the rusty cross-bars grilling
tho transom above the locked door.
He watched the bird slip Into the
room, climb along tho rusty iron gas
Jet, deliberately turn it on.
Manley knew what this meant, and
It spurred him to even more frantic
efforts to saw through the cords, still
holding him a prisoner, for already
tho fumes of the escaping gas were
reaching his nostrils.
When one strand of it had parted,
and he had uncoiled the rest of It from
his ankles, his head was swimming
and his legs were unable to support
him. So ho crossed the room on his
hands and knees, caught at the rusty
gas pipe for support and painfully
drew himself upright. Ills trembling
hand went out, found the gas jet, and
turned it off. And the next moment
he fell face down on the rough floor,
and lay there in a gray daze of weak
ness.
How long he lay there ho could not
tell. But he was aroused by tho sound
of thick voices from the ou*er cham
ber, punctuated by the shrill cries of
an angry and scolding woman. He
pulled himself together and posssessed
himself of the brick bat, as a weapon.
Ho waited, scarcely breathing, aH
the door was flung open. So quick,
however, wa3 the entrance of the first
intruder that Manley could not lift his
missile before tho darkness had swul
lowed up that shifting shadow. Bui
standing In the lighted doorway was a
second man, crouched low and leaning
forward with blinking eyes, a blue-bar
reled navy revolver in his hand. Mun
ley, eying that evil face as a sharp
shooter eyes his target, let fly with his
Bat Tied and Bound In the Owl’s Nest.
poised brick« and let fly with all his
force.
Tho stooping man went down like a
clouted rabbit, without a sound. But
even as he fell the first intruder, at
the far end of the room, struck a
match. And at that second figure
Manley let drive with the only missile
at hand.
The heavy glass lamp, hurled true,
sent man and match against the case
sido In a shower of oil and broken
glass. But Manley did not wait to wit
ness the result of that second assault.
Ho leaped for the door, caught up the
blue-barreled revolver from the hand
of the stunned man on tho threshold,
and drove for the heavier door at the
end of the outer chamber.
But this dcor he found to he locked.
Ho was on the point of starting back
In search of a timber heavy enough to
batter down that barrier when all
movement was arrested by an uproar
of sound that fairly drove the breath
from his body. For the shower of oil
that fell about the lighted match at
tho vaulted end of tho sido chamber
had sunk Into the litter of rubbish
beside the powder cases, had burst in
to flames and had crept closer about
those wooden cases until the licking
tongues of heat had reached the explo
sive.
Yet even as Manley atood there,
fighting for breath, a second surprise
both confronted and engulfed him.
Following close on that telltale roar
of sound came an even more bewilder
ing rush of water, tearing through the
low-roofed cellar like a thousand
hounds let loose. And he knew then
that the explosion had broken down
the walls between him and the East
river at high tide.
He leaped In the direction of the
door, in the hope of getting it closed.
He was still sterling franttcallv
at this door when a heard ft voice,
and at first he thought It was a human
voice, crying shriLly through the
gloom.
“Let me out!” was the frantic cry
close above him. “Let me out!” Grop
ing and pawing along the wall, his
hand came in contact with the rung
of a narrow Iron ladder. He caught al
this ladder and drew himself up, for
he now stood shoulder high in the
ever-mounting flood. On the topmost
rung, as he mounted, he found a shak
ing and feathered body clinging stub
bornly to the rusting Iron, beating
with its beak on the hollow sounding
boards above his heat).
In a Hash Manley himself was shoul
dering up against these boards.
There was the sound of a rending
staple, and In another moment he was
swarming up through the ruptured
trap door, catching at the parrot aa he
went.
• • • • • • •
The Figures of Fate.
Margory Golden, alone In her fa
ther’s library stared apprehensively
about that massively furnished room
as though dreading that some new
terror might leap out at her from Its
shadowy corners. She was unnerved
not only by the disquieting disappear
ance of David Manley but also by the
thought that she was still so surround
ed by the tides of evil.
As she sat there, deep In thought,
she was depressed by the sudden sus
picion that some one of the many
servants In that house was a traitor
to his master. Yet as she checked
them over, one by one, she found noth
ing on which to ground this ghostly
suspicion. She remembered that she
had once been suspicious even or Man
ley himself, of this serious-minded
friend who hid his true feelings be
hind a mask of light-hearted irrclev
ancics. And there were things in
which sho herself had not been alto
gether candid with him. There was,
for instance, the matter of Tito, the
Amazon parrot. She had not confided
to Manley the fact that in that bird,
stumbled across In a fancier’s shop,
sho had found an old friend, a friend
dating back to her unhappy days in
the Owl’s Nest. And she sighed aloud
as she gathered up tho papers on the
rosewood desk and turned to the vault
to which she had forgotten to restore
them.
“Twenty-one, thirty, forty-two, six
ty,” she repeated, recalling her fath
er’s Instructions over the wire. “For
ward and back and forward and back
again, for It’s a four movement dial,
whatever that may mean!”
The vault door opened, obedient to
the combination, and seeking out the
inner compartment marked “J” she
restored the papers to their place.
Her hand was still on the open vault
door when the shrill call of the tele
phone bell sounded through the quiet
room.
She crossed to the desk and took up
the receiver.
“Do you know who is speaking?”
demanded a voice which sent a thrill
of apprehension through her forward
stooping body. And the question was
repeated as she sat silent, staring be
fore her.
"Yes,” she finally answered, trying
to steady her voice. “It's Legar.”
The wire brought his answering
laugh close into her eai.
“You know the voice, I see. And I
think you know the man. So listen to
what I have to say. I’ve got your
friend Manley, and he’ll stay where
I’ve got him. And unless you want
him turned out of here with about
.half of that pretty face of his burned
to a crisp, you’ll do what I tell you
to do. Do you understand? I’ll scar
him worse than I was scarred, if you
try any tricks with me in this!”
“In —in what?” demanded the white
faced girl.
“In exactly one-half hour I want you
to walk past the Soldiers’ monument
nnd hand me a paper. That paper is
somewhere in your father's vault It
Is one half of a code list and chart,
on a square of yellow manilla. Do you
understand?”
“But how am I to know this paper?”
asked the terrified girl, fencing for
time. .
“It's a chart, a map. one half of the
map of Windward Island. For old
Golden wasn’t such a fool as he
seemed” —and again the venomous
laugh sounded low over the wire. “If
i your father had got hold of my half of
, that map a little earlier In the game
wouldn’t have needed to dig for
Legar and Hl* Confederates.
ten years through that sand, looking
for his precious treasure! Now It’s
my chance, and I want that paper.
And unless you want your secretary
to come home a rather unpleasant
thing to look at, you’re going to have
that map in my hands in half an hour.
So tell me quick, what your answer is.
Do I get it?”
For one moment the girl sat silent,
breathing quick through parted lips.
“Yes, I’ll bring it,” she at last said
over tho wire. Then she sat motion
less, with her hands gripping the desk
edge for several minutes. When she
moved it was with the quickness of a
sudden and clear-cut decision.
“Give me police headquarters,” she
called out aa she caught up the re
ceiver. The next minute she was ex
plaining to the desk official at Center
street the news of Legar's latest
threat and the need of forestalling it.
Then, after another Interval of studi
ous thought, she crossed to tho vault
and began a hurried search for the
document which Legar had described
as being stored away there.
She found it at last, in a package of
faded deeds and papers to do with
Windward Island, and while one
glance at it persuaded her that it was
indeed a chart of the island, the fact
that it represented only one-half of
this Island tended to convince her that
Legar had spoken the truth.
But she had no time to deliberate
over that discovery, for her next
move, she felt, should be to call the
servants and warn them against any
midnight intrusions.
She crossed to the rosewood desk to
carry out this plan, and her finger
was even extended to press tho hell
button when a sudden soft move
ment at her shoulder caused her to
swing sharply about.
Confronting her, with a slightly tri
umphant smile on his deep-scarred
face, stood Legar himself.
”1 am Intruding, I know,” he began
In his suavely acidulated tones, “but
there was a possibility, you see, of
your friends in uniform interrupting
our meeting beside the Soldiers’ mon
ument!”
The girl’s fingers, as she edged
away along the desk, closed determin
edly on the scrap of manilla paper
still held in her hand. The vault door,
she saw. was also still open. But that
was not the thought troubling-, her.
The vague fear at the back of her
mind was whether or not she was too
late to save Dave Manley from the
danger threatening him. And she
edged still farther away.
Her movement was arrested by the
ringing of the telephone bell close be
side her.
“Answer that phone!” he suddenly
commanded.
The next moment a great load
Beemed to lift suddenly from her
heart, and a renewed wave of audacity
swept through her body, for the voice
that spoke to her over the wiro was
the triumphant voice of Manley him
self. Manley declaring that he was
free and that he would hurry back as
fast as wheels could carry him.
“Who spoke then?” cried Legar, his
face clouded by a move which appar
ently was an unexpected one from his
standpoint. But the wine of hope now
singing through the girl's veins made
her more crafty, more ready to face
Legar with his own weapons. Instead
of answering him her hand moved out
to the bell button, for with the ring
ing of that bell, she felt, would surely
come help. And once the slip of ma
nilla was back in the vault, and the
door locked, she now had little to fear
from Legar. So when sho fell back,
as he sprang forward to strike her
hand from the bell, she saw that her
retreat lay in the direction of the
vault door.
Her pursuer, however, was in no
mood for equivocation. He seemed
suddenly to foresee her Intention. For
without warning he leaped towards
her, as an animal leaps for Its prey.
And with one sweep of his maimed
arm tho iron hook at its end was
snared deep in the folds of her cloth
ing.
“Give me that map!” ho said, in a
voice husky with blind and unreason
ing rage.
Margory Golden, however, had no
intention of giving him the map in
question. She fought against him.
with all the strength at her command,
knowing that any moment now would
bring the needed help.
But Legar, with his hand on her
throat, hurled her back against the
heavy vault door, shook her as a ter
rier shakes a rat, snatched the yellow
shoet from her fingers, flung her atag-
goring into the maw of the open vault,
and with a throaty and beastlfko cry
of triumph swung the great steel door
shut, even as the partly-dressed Wil
son ran gaping in through the library
door. Yet Legar took time to throw
back the tumbler lever and spin the
dial before turning to confront that
wide-eyed servant. Then, hearing
other approaching Bteps, ho dove
through the second door, scurried like
a pelted hound through shadowy
rooms, slipped eel-like through a
quickly opened window and escaped
to the street.
There he ran for # a dark-bodied car
standing in the deep tree shadows,
and with a gasp of relief flung himself
up into the cushioned seat.
As he did so a masked figure sitting
crouched close back in the hooded
gloom of that seat suddenly threw out
a hand and garroted the startled Le
gar against the leather upholstery, on
which ho began to writhe like a cater
pillar on a cabinet pin. But with an
equally deft second movement the
man in the yellow mask snatched the
oblong manilla paper from his oppo
nent’s hand.
"This,” blandly announced the man
of mystery as his garroting fingers re
laxed and ho stepped down to the run
ning board, "is one of the rare mo
ments when I have the pleasure of
trumping your ace!”
And the all but apoplectic Legar lay
back gasping for breath as that stran
ger dropped lightly from the speeding
car and vanished shadowiike into the
night.
At the home of Enoch Golden, in the
meantime, the terrified Wilson had re
gained both his feet, his presence of
mind and a presentable portion of his
dignity. His frantic shouts for help
had brought the rest of the servants
flocking to the library, and his equally
frantic efforts to describe what had
taken place did not add to the peace
of that litle group from below stairs.
"I tell you, Tibblns, Miss Margory's
locked in that vault, and there’s no
one in the 'ouse as knows ’ow to open
it!”
Cries of horror burst from that sud
denly arrested circle.
"Someone telephone for the police!”
cried the second man, as Wilson
shouldered out through the group
swarming and gesticulating about the
vault door. “Yes, the police!"
He had the instrument in his shak
ing hand when the door opened and
David Manley stepped quickly in, with
Tito, the green-bodied parrot, on his
arm.
“What’s wrong here?* was the new
comer’s sharp demand.
“It’s Miss Margery, sir,” began the
quavering-voiced butler.
“Well, what about Miss Margery?”
“She’s locked in that vault, sir, and
no one in the 'ouse knows the combi
nation!”
“Good God!” cried Manley, sudden
ly transfixed. Then he ran to the
vault door, flinging the others aside.
Flinging off his coat, he bent over
the dial. The silent group circled
about him. And still he worked,
worked with every nerve on edge,
every sense alert, for time, ho know,
was precious.
“I said silence there!” he called
out sharply, for his whole mind was
directed to the faint click of metal
against metal in front of him. But
louder than before the green-bodied
bird on its broken porch repeated its
cry.
“Twenty-one — thirty—forty-two—
sixty!” was the shrill and monotonous
cry of the parrot, with one eye cocked
ceilingward.
Manley suddenly wheeled about.
“What in God's name does that par
rot mean? . . . Wait! . . . It is . . .
it must be”—But instead of finishing
that declaration he repeated the
bird’s cry. ‘Twenty-one, thirty, forty
two, sixty.”
In the next breath he was facing the
vault door, with his trembling fingers
turning and spinning the glimmering
dial.
Then, without breathing, and with
colorless face, his hand grasped the
tumbler lever. And not one of that
group moved as he put on that lever
the pressure that would tell the tale.
It was Celestine the parlor maid
who indorsed her Latin temperament
by falling back in a dead faint, as the
metal door swung open. But no one,
at that moment, was thinking of Celes
tine.
"It's all right,” Manley called frotq
the darkness of the inner vault “She’s
alive —she’ll be around in a minute
only somebody get some water!”
I (To Bo Contlnuod.)