The Arrow of Fire

by Roy J. Snell

  CHAPTER XXVII AN ARROW SPEEDS TO ITS MARK

  While the old time detective was making these brilliant discoveries,Herman McCarthey and Drew had made little progress in their endeavor tofind the men in the case.

  They had taken to riding a squad car at night. A special car of greatspeed was assigned to them. This car was equipped with a loud gong. Theyworked only on radio squad calls. The moment a call was announced, theythrew on the gas. If the case reported was within a certain distance ofthe place where their car was parked, they set their gong clanging anddashed away.

  In this manner, during a two nights' vigil, they had run down more thantwenty squad calls and had learned not one thing to their advantage.

  They did not despair. "The fish are here," was Herman's sage remark. "Wemay be obliged to let down the net many times. At last we will get them."

  On the night following Newton Mills' great discovery, both the Old Timerand Johnny decided to accompany the others on their squad calls. SinceJohnny was once more on the late squad calls at the radio station, hetook with him his bow and arrows.

  "We'll just drop you off there later in the evening," was Herman's wordto him.

  It was well along toward midnight. They had chased down four radio callsto no purpose. It was beginning to look like another wasted night. Theywere parked north of the river on Main Street, when of a sudden therestruck their waiting ears a call that promised much.

  "The Roosevelt on Main!" Herman exclaimed in a breath. "That's the placethey picked the night Rosy was shot. Same gang. Came back for the rest ofthe roll. Step on the gas!"

  The motor purred. The gong sounded. They were away. By some unusualchance, theirs was the first car to arrive.

  They had not come to a standstill before Herman, Drew, Mills and two menin uniform were out of the car and bounding through the theatre door.

  "Down there!" cried an excited youth in a green cap. "They went to thebasement!"

  Down the stair they plunged.

  In the meantime Johnny, gripping his bow and arrow, and urged by whoknows what instinct, raced around the building to enter an alley whichran at the back of the theatre's stage.

  Halfway down the stairs, Herman McCarthey suddenly found himself facingtwo stocky men. The foremost of these whipped out a gun and fired. Thebullet grazed Herman's cheek and lodged in a policeman's thigh.

  A second shot followed instantly. Newton Mills had gone into action. Hisbullet entered the robber's heart. He fell back dead. The other manturned to flee down the stairs. He was struck down by a blow fromHerman's gun.

  In the meantime, what of Johnny? Astonishing things were happening tohim. Hardly had he entered the alley than someone sprang around a cornerof masonry and, without noting him, began to approach.

  The light of a street lamp fell on his back. Johnny recognized himinstantly. He had a face that was like a mask. It was Jimmie McGowan.

  Scarcely had Johnny stepped back to nock an arrow, than the other sawhim.

  Among people of his own kind this youth, Jimmie McGowan, was known as thequickest trigger in all gangland. Nor was an automatic lacking.

  What saved Johnny? One curious circumstance. As the gangster came to ahalt, a weird red light, from no one will ever know where, fell uponJohnny and his bow. His arrow was turned to a thing of flaming red.

  It was this weird light that sent cold terror to the gangster's heart.The hand that did not falter at the dealing of death was paralyzed byfear of that which could not be understood, the arrow of fire.

  Before the gangster's hand could regain its cunning, a missile camecrashing into his shoulder. It was Johnny's arrow. The gun wentclattering to the pavement. Next instant, with the force of a tiger,Johnny leaped upon mask-faced Jimmie McGowan and bore him to the ground.

  In the meantime Herman had made fast work of the second robber. Havingknocked him down, he had him in handcuffs at once. As he turned thefellow over, more than five thousand dollars in currency dropped frombeneath his coat.

  Drew had noted the direction Johnny had taken. As soon as possible hefollowed in his wake. He found Johnny sitting on the chest of JimmieMcGowan. A feathered arrow protruded from Jimmie's shoulder.

  "I got him!" exulted Johnny. "I got the one we want!"

  "Silent Murder," murmured Drew. "So you have. But not so fast. Notanother word at this time."

  Jimmie McGowan went to the hospital in the jail to have Johnny's arrowremoved. Drew called the radio station and had Johnny released from dutythat night. Then they all adjourned to the shack.

  "We win!" said Johnny exultantly.

  "Not so fast," said Herman McCarthey. "What was this bird doing when youshot him with that arrow?"

  "Coming down the alley. Preparing to shoot me."

  "Can you prove that he meant to shoot you?"

  "No. But anybody knows--"

  "Sure. But not in court. Crooked lawyers, and all that. This poor boy,meaning Jimmie McGowan, was obliged to go out at night. He carried a gunfor protection. He met a stranger. The stranger attempted to massacre himwith a murderous six foot bow. Can't you see how they'll shape it up?"

  "Yes, but Rosy will identify him."

  "Perhaps, if she lives. There are still grave doubts regarding herrecovery. But if she does live, this boy has two faces, a smile and amask. He will show her the smile. She must pick him from among other men.She was frightened that night. Will she recall the face? Well, perhaps."

  "But there are the bullets. They are absolute proof."

  "They are our best bet. We must guard them well."

  A little later Newton Mills spoke to Johnny in a low tone. At the sametime he pressed a package into his hand.

  "You keep these until to-morrow," he said. "I'm a marked man. They won'tsuspect you of having them. It's the bullets, the little pills that willsend that man of the masked face down for life."

  Perspiration started out on Johnny's brow as he listened to these words.Nevertheless, he stowed the small package deep in his innermost pocket.

  "They won't get them," he muttered. "None of them will."

  As an afterthought, he drew the package from his pocket, seated himselfat a table, then wrote his name and address on the outside of thepackage. He then replaced it in his pocket.

  This was a habit of Johnny's, of long standing. Not for ten years had hecarried a package a distance of so much as one block without firstwriting his name and address upon it. Absent-minded people should keeptheir records well. Johnny was, at times, absent-minded.