The Exploits of Elaine

by Arthur B. Reeve

  CHAPTER VII

  THE DOUBLE TRAP

  Mindful of the sage advice that a time of peace is best employed inpreparing for war, I was busily engaged in cleaning my automatic gunone morning as Kennedy and I were seated in our living room.

  Our door buzzer sounded and Kennedy, always alert, jumped up, pushingaside a great pile of papers which had accumulated in the Dodge case.

  Two steps took him to the wall where the day before he had installed apeculiar box about four by six inches long connected in some way with alens-like box of similar size above our bell and speaking tube in thehallway below. He opened it, disclosing an oblong plate of ground glass.

  "I thought the seismograph arrangement was not quite enough after thatspring-gun affair," he remarked, "so I have put in a sort of televiewof my own invention--so that I can see down into the vestibuledownstairs. Well--just look who's here!"

  "Some new fandangled periscope arrangement, I suppose?" I queriedmoving slowly over toward it.

  However, one look was enough to interest me. I can express it only inslang. There, framed in the little thing, was a vision of as swell a"chicken" as I have ever seen.

  I whistled under my breath.

  "Um!" I exclaimed shamelessly, "A peach! Who's your friend?"

  I had never said a truer word than in my description of her, though Idid not know it at the time. She was indeed known as "Gertie the Peach"in the select circle to which she belonged.

  Gertie was very attractive, though frightfully over-dressed. But, then,no one thinks anything of that now, in New York.

  Kennedy had opened the lower door and our fair visitor was comingupstairs. Meanwhile he was deeply in thought before the "teleview." Hemade up his mind quickly, however.

  "Go in there, Walter," he said, seizing me quickly and pushing me intomy room. "I want you to wait there and watch her carefully."

  I slipped the gun into my pocket and went, just as a knock at the doortold me she was outside.

  Kennedy opened the door, disclosing a very excited young woman.

  "Oh, Professor Kennedy," she cried, all in one breath, with muchemotion, "I'm so glad I found you in. I can't tell you. Oh--my jewels!They have been stolen--and my husband must not know of it. Help me torecover them--please!"

  She had not paused, but had gone on in a wild, voluble explanation.

  "Just a moment, my dear young lady," interrupted Craig, finding at lasta chance to get a word in edgewise. "Do you see that table--and allthose papers? Really, I can't take your case. I am too busy as it iseven to take the cases of many of my own clients."

  "But, please, Professor Kennedy--please!" she begged. "Help me. Itmeans--oh, I can't tell you how much it means to me!"

  She had come close to him and had laid her warm, little soft hand onhis, in ardent entreaty.

  From my hiding place in my room, I could not help seeing that she wasusing every charm of her sex and personality to lure him on, as sheclung confidingly to him. Craig was very much embarrassed, and I couldnot help a smile at his discomfiture. Seriously, I should have hated tohave been in his position.

  Gertie had thrown her arms about Kennedy, as if in wildest devotion. Iwondered what Elaine would have thought, if she had a picture of that!

  "Oh," she begged him, "please--please, help me!"

  Still Kennedy seemed utterly unaffected by her passionate embrace.Carefully he loosened her fingers from about his neck and removed theplump, enticing arms.

  Gertie sank into a chair, weeping, while Kennedy stood before her amoment in deep abstraction.

  Finally he seemed to make up his mind to something. His manner towardher changed. He took a step to her side.

  "I WILL help you," he said, laying his hand on her shoulder. "If it ispossible I will recover your jewels. Where do you live?"

  "At Hazlehurst," she replied, gratefully. "Oh, Mr. Kennedy, how can Iever thank you?"

  She seemed overcome with gratitude and took his hand, pressed it, evenkissed it.

  "Just a minute," he added, carefully extricating his hand. "I'll beready in just a minute."

  Kennedy entered the room where I was listening.

  "What's it all about, Craig?" I whispered, mystified.

  For a moment he stood thinking, apparently reconsidering what he hadjust done. Then his second thought seemed to approve it.

  "This is a trap of the Clutching Hand, Walter," he whispered, addingtensely, "and we're going to walk right into it."

  I looked at him in amazement.

  "But, Craig," I demurred, "that's foolhardy. Have hertrailed--anything--but---"

  He shook his head and with a mere motion of his hand brushed aside myobjections as he went to a cabinet across the room.

  From one shelf he took out a small metal box and from another a testtube, placing the test tube in his waistcoat pocket, and the small boxin his coatpocket, with excessive care.

  Then he turned and motioned to me to follow him out into the otherroom. I did so, stuffing my "gatt" into my pocket.

  "Let me introduce my friend, Mr. Jameson," said Craig, presenting me tothe pretty crook.

  The introduction quickly over, we three went out to get Craig's carwhich he kept at a nearby garage.

  . . . . . . . .

  That forenoon, Perry Bennett was reading up a case. In the outer officeMilton Schofield, his office boy, was industriously chewing gum andadmiring his feet cocked up on the desk before him.

  The door to the waiting room opened and an attractive woman of perhapsthirty, dressed in extreme mourning, entered with a boy.

  Milton cast a glance of scorn at the "little dude." He was in realityabout fourteen years old but was dressed to look much younger.

  Milton took his feet down in deference to the lady, but snickeredopenly at the boy. A fight seemed imminent.

  "Did you wish to see Mr. Bennett?" asked the precocious Milton politelyon one hand while on the other he made a wry grimace.

  "Yes--here is my card," replied the woman.

  It was deeply bordered in black. Even Milton was startled at readingit: "Mrs. Taylor Dodge."

  He looked at the woman in open-mouthed astonishment. Even he knew thatElaine's mother had been dead for years.

  The woman, however, true to her name in the artistic coterie in whichshe was leader, had sunk into a chair and was sobbing convulsively, asonly "Weepy Mary" could.

  It was so effective that even Milton was visibly moved. He took thecard in, excitedly, to Bennett.

  "There's a woman outside--says she is Mrs. Dodge!" he cried.

  If Milton had had an X-ray eye he could have seen her take a cigarettefrom her handbag and light it nonchalantly the moment he was gone.

  As for Bennett, Milton, who was watching him closely, thought he wasabout to discharge him on the spot for bothering him. He took the card,and his face expressed the most extreme surprise, then anger. Hethought a moment.

  "Tell that woman to state her business in writing," he thundered curtlyat Milton.

  As the boy turned to go back to the waiting room, Weepy Mary, hearinghim coming, hastily shoved the cigarette into her "son's" hand.

  "Mr. Bennett says for you to write out what it is you want to see himabout," reported Milton, indicating the table before which she wassitting.

  Mary had automatically taken up sobbing, with the release of thecigarette. She looked at the table on which were letter paper, pens andink.

  "I may write here?" she asked.

  "Surely, ma'am," replied Milton, still very much overwhelmed by hersorrow.

  Weepy Mary sat there, writing and sobbing.

  In the midst of his sympathy, however, Milton sniffed. There was anunmistakable odor of tobacco smoke about the room. He looked sharply atthe "son" and discovered the still smoking cigarette.

  It was too much for Milton's outraged dignity. Bennett did not allowhim that coveted privilege. This upstart could not usurp it.

  He reached over and seized the boy by the ar
m and swung him around tillhe faced a sign in the corner on the wall.

  "See?" he demanded.

  The sign read courteously:

  "No Smoking in This Office--Please. "PERRY BENNETT."

  "Leggo my arm," snarled the "son," putting the offending cigarettedefiantly into his mouth.

  Milton coolly and deliberately reached over and, with an exaggeratedpoliteness swiftly and effectively removed it, dropping it on the floorand stamping defiantly on it.

  "Son" raised his fists pugnaciously, for he didn't care much for therole he was playing, anyhow.

  Milton did the same.

  There was every element of a gaudy mix-up, when the outer door of theoffice suddenly swung open and Elaine Dodge entered.

  Gallantry was Milton's middle name and he sprang forward to hold thedoor, and then opened Bennett's door, as he ushered in Elaine.

  As she passed "Weepy Mary," who was still writing at the table andcrying bitterly, Elaine hesitated and looked at her curiously. Evenafter Milton had opened Bennett's door, she could not resist anotherglance. Instinctively Elaine seemed to scent trouble.

  Bennett was still studying the black-bordered card, when she greetedhim.

  "Who is that woman?" she asked, still wondering about the identity ofthe Niobe outside.

  At first he said nothing. But finally, seeing that she had noticed it,he handed Elaine the card, reluctantly.

  Elaine read it with a gasp. The look of surprise that crossed her facewas terrible.

  Before she could say anything, however, Milton had returned with thesheet of paper on which "Weepy Mary" had written and handed it toBennett.

  Bennett read it with uncontrolled astonishment.

  "What is it?" demanded Elaine.

  He handed it to her and she read:

  "As the lawful wife and widow of Taylor Dodge, I demand my son's rightsand my own.

  "MRS. TAYLOR DODGE."

  Elaine gasped at it.

  "She--my father's wife!" she exclaimed, "What effrontery! What does shemean?"

  Bennett hesitated.

  "Tell me," Elaine cried, "Is there--can there be anything in it?No--no--there isn't!"

  Bennett spoke in a low tone. "I have heard a whisper of some scandal orother connected with your father--but--" He paused.

  Elaine was first shocked, then indignant.

  "Why--such a thing is absurd. Show the woman in!"

  "No--please--Miss Dodge. Let me deal with her."

  By this time Elaine was furious.

  "Yes--I WILL see her."

  She pressed the button on Bennett's desk and Milton responded.

  "Milton, show the--the woman in," she ordered, "and that boy, too."

  As Milton turned to crook his finger at "Weepy Mary," she noddedsurreptitiously and dug her fingers sharply into "son's" ribs.

  "Yell--you little fool,--yell," she whispered.

  Obedient to his "mother's" commands, and much to Milton's disgust, theboy started to cry in close imitation of his elder.

  Elaine was still holding the paper in her hands when they entered.

  "What does all this mean?" she demanded.

  "Weepy Mary," between sobs, managed to blurt out, "You are Miss ElaineDodge, aren't you? Well, it means that your father married me when Iwas only seventeen and this boy is his son--your half brother."

  "No--never," cried Elaine vehemently, unable to restrain her disgust."He never married again. He was too devoted to the memory of my mother."

  "Weepy Mary" smiled cynically. "Come with me and I will show you thechurch records and the minister who married us."

  "You will?" repeated Elaine defiantly. "Well, I'll just do as you ask.Mr. Bennett shall go with me."

  "No, no, Miss Dodge--don't go. Leave the matter to me," urged Bennett."I will take care of HER. Besides, I must be in court in twentyminutes."

  Elaine paused, but she was thoroughly aroused.

  "Then I will go with her myself," she cried defiantly.

  In spite of every objection that Bennett made, "Weepy Mary," her son,and Elaine went out to call a taxicab to take them to the railroadstation where they could catch a train to the little town where thewoman asserted she had been married.

  . . . . . . . .

  Meanwhile, before a little country church in the town, a closedautomobile had drawn up.

  As the door opened, a figure, humped up and masked, alighted.

  It was the Clutching Hand.

  The car had scarcely pulled away, when he gave a long rap, followed bytwo short taps, at the door of the vestry, a secret code, evidently.

  Inside the vestry room a well-dressed man but with a very sinister faceheard the knock and a second later opened the door.

  "What--not ready yet?" growled the Clutching Hand. "Quick--now--get onthose clothes. I heard the train whistle as I came in the car. In whichcloset does the minister keep them?"

  The crook, without a word, went to a closet and took out a suit ofclothes of ministerial cut. Then he hastily put them on, adding someside-whiskers, which he had brought with him.

  At about the same time, Elaine, accompanied by "Weepy Mary" and her"son," had arrived at the little tumble-down station and had taken theonly vehicle in sight, a very ancient carriage.

  It ambled along until, at last, it pulled up before the vestry roomdoor of the church, just as the bogus minister was finishing histransformation from a frank crook. Clutching Hand was giving him finalinstructions.

  Elaine and the others alighted and approached the church, while theancient vehicle rattled away.

  "They're coming," whispered the crook, peering cautiously out of thewindow.

  Clutching Hand moved silently and snake-like into the closet and shutthe door.

  "How do you do, Dr. Carton?" greeted "Weepy Mary." "I guess you don'tremember me."

  The clerical gentleman looked at her fixedly a moment.

  "Remember you?" he repeated. "Of course, my dear. I remember everyone Imarry."

  "And you remember to whom you married me?"

  "Perfectly. To an older man--a Taylor Dodge."

  Elaine was overcome.

  "Won't you step in?" he asked suavely. "Your friend here doesn't seemwell."

  They all entered.

  "And you--you say--you married this--this woman to Taylor Dodge?"queried Elaine, tensely.

  The bogus minister seemed to be very fatherly. "Yes," he assented, "Icertainly did so."

  "Have you the record?" asked Elaine, fighting to the last.

  "Why, yes. I can show you the record."

  He moved over to the closet. "Come over here," he asked.

  He opened the door. Elaine screamed and drew back. There stood her archenemy, the Clutching Hand himself.

  As he stepped forth, she turned, wildly, to run--anywhere. But strongarms seized her and forced her into a chair.

  She looked at the woman and the minister. It was a plot!

  A moment Clutching Hand looked Elaine over. "Put the others out," heordered the other crook.

  Quickly the man obeyed, leading "Weepy Mary" and her "son" to the door,and waving them away as he locked it. They left, quite as much in thedark about the master criminal's identity as Elaine.

  "Now, my pretty dear," began the Clutching Hand as the lock turned inthe vestry door, "we shall be joined shortly by your friend, CraigKennedy, and," he added with a leer, "I think your rather insistentsearch for a certain person will cease."

  Elaine drew back in the chair, horrified, at the implied threat.

  Clutching Hand laughed, diabolically.

  . . . . . . . .

  While these astounding events were transpiring in the little church,Kennedy and I had been tearing across the country in his big car,following the directions of our fair friend.

  We stopped at last before a prosperous, attractive-looking house andentered a very prettily furnished but small parlor. Heavy portiereshung over the doorway into the hall, ove
r another into a back room andover the bay windows.

  "Won't you sit down a moment?" coaxed Gertie. "I'm quite blown topieces after that ride. My, how you drive!"

  As she pulled aside the hall portieres, three men with guns thrusttheir hands out. I turned. Two others had stepped from the back roomand two more from the bay window. We were surrounded. Seven guns wereaimed at us with deadly precision.

  "No--no--Walter--it's no use," shouted Kennedy calmly restraining myhand which I had clapped on my own gun.

  At the same time, with his other hand, he took from his pocket thesmall can which I had seen him place there, and held it aloft.

  "Gentlemen," he said quietly. "I suspected some such thing. I have herea small box of fulminate of mercury. If I drop it, this building andthe entire vicinity will be blown to atoms. Go ahead--shoot!" he added,nonchalantly.

  The seven of them drew back, rather hurriedly.

  Kennedy was a dangerous prisoner.

  He calmly sat down in an arm chair, leaning back as he carefullybalanced the deadly little box of fulminate of mercury on his knee. Heplaced his finger tips together and smiled at the seven crooks, who hadgathered together, staring breathlessly at this man who toyed withdeath.

  Gertie ran from the room.

  For a moment they looked at each other, undecided, then one by one,they stepped away from Kennedy toward the door.

  The leader was the last to go. He had scarcely taken a step.

  "Stop!" ordered Kennedy.

  The crook did so. As Craig moved toward him, he waited, cold sweatbreaking out on his face.

  "Say," he whined, "you let me be!"

  It was ineffectual. Kennedy, still smiling confidently, came closer,still holding the deadly little box, balanced between two fingers.

  He took the crook's gun and dropped it into his pocket.

  "Sit down!" ordered Craig.

  Outside, the other six parleyed in hoarse whispers. One raised a gun,but the woman and the others restrained him and fled.

  "Take me to your master!" demanded Kennedy.

  The crook remained silent.

  "Where is he?" repeated Craig. "Tell me!"

  Still the man remained silent. Craig looked the fellow over again.Then, still with that confident smile, he reached into his insidepocket and drew forth the tube I had seen him place there.

  "No matter how much YOU accuse me," added Craig casually, "no one willever take the word of a crook that a reputable scientist like me woulddo what I am about to do."

  He had taken out his penknife and opened it. Then he beckoned to me.

  "Bare his arm and hold his wrist, Walter," he said.

  Craig bent down with the knife and the tube, then paused a moment andturned the tube so that we could see it.

  On the label were the ominous words:

  Germ culture 6248A Bacillus Leprae (Leprosy)

  Calmly he took the knife and proceeded to make an incision in the man'sarm. The crook's feelings underwent a terrific struggle.

  "No--no--no--don't," he implored. "I will take you to the ClutchingHand--even if it kills me!"

  Kennedy stepped back, replacing the tube in his pocket.

  "Very well, go ahead!" he agreed.

  We followed the crook, Craig still holding the deadly box of fulminateof mercury carefully balanced so that if anyone shot him from a hidingplace it would drop.

  . . . . . . . .

  No sooner had we gone than Gertie hurried to the nearest telephone toinform the Clutching Hand of our escape.

  Elaine had sunk back into the chair, as the telephone rang. ClutchingHand answered it.

  A moment later, in uncontrollable fury he hurled the instrument to thefloor.

  "Here--we've got to act quickly--that devil has escaped again," hehissed. "We must get her away. You keep her here. I'll be back--rightaway--with a car."

  He dashed madly from the church, pulling off his mask as he gained thestreet.

  . . . . . . . .

  Kennedy had forced the crook ahead of us into the car which was waitingand I followed, taking the wheel this time.

  "Which way, now--quick!" demanded Craig, "And if you get me inwrong--I've got that tube yet--you remember."

  Our crook started off with a whole burst of directions that rivalledthe motor guide--"through the town, following trolley tracks, jogright, jog left under the R. R. bridge, leaving trolley tracks; atcemetery turn left, stopping at the old stone church."

  "Is this it?" asked Craig incredulously.

  "Yes--as I live," swore the crook in a cowed voice.

  He had gone to pieces. Kennedy jumped from the machine.

  "Here, take this gun, Walter," he said to me. "Don't take your eyes offthe fellow--keep him covered."

  Craig walked around the church, out of sight, until he came to a smallvestry window and looked in.

  There was Elaine, sitting in a chair, and near her stood an elderlylooking man in clerical garb, which to Craig's trained eye was quiteevidently a disguise.

  Elaine happened just then to glance at the window and her eyes grewwide with astonishment at the sight of Craig.

  He made a hasty motion to her to make a dash for the door. She noddedquietly.

  With a glance at her guardian, she suddenly made a rush.

  He was at her in a moment, pouncing on her, cat-like.

  Kennedy had seized an iron bar that lay beside the window where someworkmen had been repairing the stone pavement, and, with a blowshattered the glass and the sash.

  At the sound of the smashing glass the crook turned and with a mightyeffort threw Elaine aside, drawing his revolver. As he raised it,Elaine sprang at him and frantically seized his wrist.

  Utterly merciless, the man brought the butt of the gun down with fullforce on Elaine's head. Only her hat and hair saved her, but she sankunconscious.

  Then he turned at Craig and fired twice.

  One shot grazed Craig's hat, but the other struck him in the shoulderand Kennedy reeled.

  With a desperate effort he pulled himself together and leaped forwardagain, closing with the fellow and wrenching the gun from him before hecould fire again.

  It fell to the floor with a clang.

  Just then the man broke away and made a dash for the door leading backinto the church itself, with Kennedy after him. At the foot of a flightof stairs, he turned long enough to pick up a chair. As Kennedy cameon, he deliberately smashed it over Craig's head.

  Kennedy warded off the blow as best he could, then, still undaunted,started up the stairs after the fellow.

  Up they went, into the choir loft and then into the belfry itself.There they came to sheer hand to hand struggle. Kennedy tripped on aloose board and would have fallen backwards, if he had not been able torecover himself just in time. The crook, desperate, leaped for theladder leading further up into the steeple. Kennedy followed.

  Elaine had recovered consciousness almost immediately and, hearing thecommotion, stirred and started to rise and look about.

  From the church she could hear sounds of the struggle. She paused justlong enough to seize the crook's revolver lying on the floor.

  She hurried into the church and up into the belfry, thence up theladder, whence the sounds came.

  The crook by this time had gained the outside of the steeple through anopening. Kennedy was in close pursuit.

  On the top of the steeple was a great gilded cross, considerably largerthan a man. As the crook clambered outside, he scaled the steeple,using a lightning rod and some projecting points to pull himself up,desperately.

  Kennedy followed unhesitatingly.

  There they were, struggling in deadly combat, clinging to the gildedcross.

  The first I knew of it was a horrified gasp from my own crook. I lookedup carefully, fearing it was a stall to get me off my guard. There wereKennedy and the other crook, struggling, swaying back and forth,between life and death.

  I looked at my man. Wha
t should I do? Should I leave him and go toCraig? If I did, might he not pick us both off, from a safe vantagepoint, by some sharp-shooting skill?

  There was nothing I could do.

  Kennedy was clinging to a lightning rod on the cross.

  It broke.

  I gasped as Craig reeled back. But he managed to catch hold of the rodfurther down and cling to it.

  The crook seemed to exult diabolically. Holding with both hands to thecross, he let himself out to his full length and stamped on Kennedy'sfingers, trying every way to dislodge him. It was all Kennedy could doto keep his hold.

  I cried out in agony at the sight, for he had dislodged one of Craig'shands. The other could not hold on much longer. He was about to fall.

  Just then I saw a face at the little window opening out from the ladderto the outside of the steeple--a woman's face, tense with horror.

  It was Elaine!

  Quickly a hand followed and in it was a revolver.

  Just as the crook was about to dislodge Kennedy's other hand, I saw aflash and a puff of smoke and a second later, heard a report--andanother--and another.

  Horrors!

  The crook who had taken refuge seemed to stagger back, wildly, taking acouple of steps in the thin air.

  Kennedy regained his hold.

  With a sickening thud, the body of the crook landed on the groundaround the corner of the church from me.

  "Come--you!" I ground out, covering my own crook with the pistol, "andif you attempt a getaway, I'll kill you, too!"

  He followed, trembling, unnerved.

  We bent over the man. It seemed that every bone in his body must bebroken. He groaned, and before I could even attempt anything for him,he was dead.

  . . . . . . . .

  As Kennedy let himself slowly and painfully down the lightning rod,Elaine seized him and, with all her strength, pulled him in through thewindow.

  He was quite weak now from loss of blood.

  "Are you--all right?" she gasped, as they reached the foot of theladder in the belfry.

  Craig looked down at his torn and soiled clothes. Then, in spite of thesmarting pain of his wounds, he smiled, "Yes--all right!"

  "Thank heaven!" she murmured fervently, trying to staunch the flow ofblood.

  Craig gazed at her eagerly. The great look of relief in her face seemedto take away all the pain from his own face. In its place came a lookof wonder--and hope.

  He could not resist.

  "This time--it was you--saved me!" he cried, "Elaine!"

  Involuntarily his arms sought hers--and he held her a moment, lookingdeep into her wonderful eyes.

  Then their faces came slowly together in their first kiss.