The Romance of Elaine

by Arthur B. Reeve

  CHAPTER V

  SHADOWS OF WAR

  For a long time Kennedy had, I knew, been at work at odd moments in thelaboratory secretly. What it was that he was working on, even I wasunable to guess, so closely had he guarded his secret. But that it wassomething momentous, I was assured.

  Long Sin had already been arrested and it was a day or two after theescape of Wu himself who had come just in time to prevent theconfession by one of his emissaries of the whereabouts of his secretden. Kennedy had Chase and another detective whom he frequentlyemployed on routine matters at work over the clues developed by his useof the sphygmograph. Elaine, anxious for news, had dropped in on us atthe laboratory just as Kennedy was hastily opening his mail.

  Craig came to a large letter with an official look, slit open theenvelope, and unfolded the letter. "Hurrah!" he cried, jumping up andthrusting the letter before us. "Read that."

  Across the top of the paper were embossed in blue the formidable words:

  United States Navy Department, Washington, D. C.

  The letter was most interesting:

  PROFESSOR CRAIG KENNEDY, The University, New York City.

  DEAR SIR,

  Your telautomatic torpedo model was tested yesterday and I take greatpleasure in stating that it was entirely successful. There is no doubtthat the United States is safe from attack as long as we retain itssecret.

  Very sincerely yours,

  DANIEL WATERS, Ass't Sec'y.

  "Oh, Craig," congratulated Elaine, as she handed back the note. "I'm soglad for your sake. How famous you will be!"

  "When are we going to see the wonderful invention, Craig?" I added as Igrasped his hand and, in return, he almost broke the bones in minewringing it.

  "As soon as you wish," he replied, moving over to the safe near-by andopening it. "Here's the only other model in existence besides the modelI sent to Washington."

  He held up before us a cigar-shaped affair of steel, about eight incheslong, with a tiny propeller and rudder of a size to correspond. Abovewas a series of wires, four or five inches in length, which, heexplained, were the aerials by which the torpedo was controlled.

  "The principle of the thing," he went on proudly, "is that I usewireless waves to actuate relays on the torpedo. The power is in thetorpedo; the relay releases it. That is, I send a child with a message;the grown man, through the relay, does the work. So, you see, I can sitmiles away in safety and send my little David out anywhere to strikedown a huge Goliath."

  It was not difficult to catch his enthusiasm over the marvellousinvention, though we could not follow him through the mazes ofexplanation about radio-combinators, telecommutators and the rest ofthe technicalities. I may say, however, that on his radio-combinator hehad a series of keys marked "Forward," "Back," "Start," "Stop," "RudderRight," "Rudder Left," and so on.

  He had scarcely finished his brief description when there came a knockat the door. I answered it. It was Chase and his assistant, whomKennedy had employed in the affair.

  "We've found the place on Pell Street that we think is Wu Fang's," theyreported excitedly. "It's in number fourteen, as you thought. We'veleft an operative disguised as a blind beggar to watch the place."

  "Oh, good!" exclaimed Elaine, as Craig and I hurried out after Chaseand his man with her. "May I go with you?"

  "Really, Elaine," objected Craig, "I don't think it's safe. There's notelling what may happen. In fact, I think Walter and I had better notbe seen there even with Chase."

  She pouted and pleaded, but Craig was obdurate. Finally she consentedto wait for us at home provided we brought her the news at the earliestmoment and demonstrated the wonderful torpedo as well. Craig was onlytoo glad to promise and we waved good-bye as her car whisked her off.

  Half an hour later we turned into Chinatown from the shadow of theelevated railroad on Chatham Square, doing our best to affect a Boweryslouch.

  We had not gone far before we came to the blind beggar. He was sittingby number fourteen with a sign on his breast, grinding industriously ata small barrel organ before him on which rested a tin cup.

  We passed him and Kennedy took out a coin from his pocket and droppedit into the cup. As he did so, he thrust his hand into the cup andquickly took out a piece of paper which he palmed.

  The blind beggar thanked and blessed us, and we dodged into a doorwaywhere Kennedy opened the paper: "Wu Fang gone out."

  "What shall we do?" I asked.

  "Go in anyhow," decided Kennedy quickly.

  We left the shelter of the doorway and walked boldly up to the door.Deftly Kennedy forced it and we entered.

  We had scarcely mounted the stairs to the den of the Serpent, when aservant in a back room, hearing a noise, stuck his head in the door.Kennedy and I made a dash at him and quickly overpowered him, snappingthe bracelets on his wrists.

  "Watch him, Walter," directed Craig as he made his way into the backroom.

  . . . . . . .

  In the devious plots and schemes of Wu Fang, his nefarious work hadbrought him into contact not only with criminals of the lowest orderbut with those high up in financial and diplomatic circles.

  Thus it happened that at such a crisis as Kennedy had brought about forhim Wu had suddenly been called out of the city and had received anorder from a group of powerful foreign agents known secretly as theIntelligence Office to meet an emissary at a certain rocky promontoryon the Connecticut shore of Long Island Sound the very day afterKennedy's little affair with him in the laboratory and the day beforethe letter from Washington arrived.

  Though he was mortally afraid of Kennedy's pursuit, there was nothingto do but obey this imperative summons. Quietly he slipped out of town,the more readily when he realized that the summons would take him notfar from the millionaire cottage colony where Elaine had her summerhome, which, however, she had not yet opened.

  There, on the rocky shore, he sat gazing out at the waves, waiting,when suddenly, from around the promontory, came a boat rowed by twostalwart sailors. It carried as passengers two dark-complexioned,dark-haired men, foreigners evidently, though carefully dressed so asto conceal both their identity and nationality.

  As the boat came up to a strip of sandy beach among the rocks, thesailors held it while their two passengers jumped out. Then they rowedaway as quickly as they had come.

  The two mysterious strangers saluted Wu.

  "We are under orders from the Intelligence Office," introduced one whoseemed to be the leader, "to get this American, Kennedy."

  A subtle smile overspread Wu's face. He said nothing but this adventurepromised to serve more than one end. "Information has just come to us,"the stranger went on, "that Kennedy has invented a new wirelessautomatic torpedo. Already a letter is on its way informing him that ithas been accepted by the Navy."

  The other man who had been drawing a cigar-shaped outline on the wetsand looked up. "We must get those models," he put in, adding, "both ofthem--the one he has and that the government has. Can it be done?"

  "I can get them," answered Wu sinisterly.

  And so, while Kennedy was drawing together the net about Wu, that wilycriminal had already planned an attack on him in an unexpected quarter.

  Down in Washington the very morning that our pursuit of Wu came to ahead, the officials of the navy department, both naval and civil, werehaving the final conference at which they were to accept officiallyKennedy's marvellous invention which, it was confidently believed,would ultimately make war impossible.

  Seated about a long table in one of the board rooms were not only theofficers but the officials of the department whose sanction wasnecessary for the final step. By a window sat a stenographer who wastranscribing, as they were taken, the notes of the momentous meeting.

  They had just completed the examination of the torpedo and laid it onthe end of the table scarcely an arm's length from the stenographer. Ashe finished a page of notes he glanced quickly at his watch. It wasexactly three o'clock.
r />   Hastily he reached over for the torpedo and with one swift, silentmovement tossed it out of the window.

  Down below, in a clump of rhododendrons, for several moments had beencrouching one of the men who had borne the orders to Wu Fang at thestrange meeting on the promontory.

  His eyes seemed riveted at the window above him. Suddenly the suprememoment for which this dastardly plot had been timed came. As thetorpedo model dropped from the window, he darted forward, caught it,turned, and in an instant he was gone.

  . . . . . . .

  Wu Fang himself had returned after setting in motion the forces whichhe found necessary to call to aid the foreign agents in their plotsagainst Kennedy's torpedo.

  As Wu approached the door of his den and was about to enter, his eyefell on our outpost, the blind beggar. Instantly his suspicions werearoused. He looked the beggar over with a frown, thought a moment, thenturned and instead of entering went up the street.

  He made the circuit of the block and now came to an alley on the nextstreet that led back of the building in which he had his den. Stillfrowning, he gazed about, saw that he was not followed, and entered adoorway.

  Up the stairs he made his way until he came to an empty loft. Quicklyhe went over to the blank wall and began feeling cautiously about as iffor a secret spring hidden in the plaster.

  "No one in the back room," said Kennedy rejoining me in the den itselfwith the prisoner. "He's out, all right."

  Before Craig was a mirror. As he looked into it, at an angle, he couldsee a part of the decorations of the wall behind him actually open out.For an instant the evil face of Wu Fang appeared.

  Without a word, Craig walked into the back room. As he did so, Wu Fang,knife in hand, stealthily opened the sliding panel its full length andnoiselessly entered the room behind me. With knife upraised for instantaction he moved closer and closer to me. He had almost reached me andpaused to gloat as he poised the knife ready to strike, when I heard ashout from Kennedy, and a scuffle.

  Craig had leaped out from behind a screen near the doorway to the backroom where he had hidden to lure Wu on. With a powerful grasp, hetwisted the knife from Wu's hand and it fell with a clatter on thefloor. I was at Wu myself an instant later. He was a powerful fighter,but we managed to snap the handcuffs on him finally, also.

  "Walter," panted Kennedy straightening himself out after the fracas,"I'll stay here with the prisoners. Go get the police."

  I hurried out and rushed down the street seeking an officer.

  Up in the den, Wu Fang, silent, stood with his back to the wall,scowling sullenly. Close beside him hung a sort of bell-cord, just outof reach. Kennedy, revolver in hand, was examining the writing-table todiscover whatever evidence he could. Slowly, imperceptibly, inch byinch, Wu moved toward the bell-cord. He was reaching out with hismanacled hands to seize it when Kennedy, alert, turned, saw him, andinstantly shot. Wu literally crumpled up and dropped to the floor asCraig bounded over to him.

  By this time I had found a policeman and he had summoned the wagon fromthe Elizabeth Street station, a few blocks away. As we drove up beforethe den, I leaped out and the police followed.

  Imagine my surprise at seeing Wu stretched on the floor. Kennedy hadtried to staunch the flow of blood from a wound on Wu's shoulder with ahandkerchief and now was making a temporary bandage which he bound onhim.

  "How are you, sergeant?" nodded Kennedy. "Well, I guess you'll admit Imade good this time."

  The sergeant smiled, recalling a previous occasion when the slippery Wuhad squirmed through our fingers.

  Kennedy's restless eye fell on the bell-rope which had caused thetrouble. Somehow, he seemed to have an irresistible desire to pull thatrope. He gazed about the room.

  "Walter, you and the sergeant take the prisoners into the next room,"he said. "I want to see what this thing really is."

  We moved Wu and his servant and stood in the doorway. Craig gave therope a yank.

  Instantly there was an explosion. A concealed shotgun in the wallfired, scattering shot all over the front of Wu's table, just where wehad been standing, knocking over and breaking vases, scattering papersand in general wrecking everything before it.

  "So, that's it," whistled Craig. "You fellows can come back now. Two ofyou men I'm going to leave here to watch the place and make otherarrests if you can. Come on."

  With Kennedy I left the tenement while the sergeant marched theprisoners out, and we drove off with them. Quite a crowd had collectedoutside by the time we came out. Among them, naturally, were manyChinamen, and we could not see two of them hiding behind the rest onthe outskirts, jabbering in low tones together and making hasty plans.As we clanged away down the street they followed more slowly on foot.

  Common humanity dictated that we take Wu first of all to a hospital andget him fixed up and to a hospital we went. Kennedy and I entered withour prisoners, closely guarded by the police.

  Craig handed Wu over to two young doctors and a nurse. By this time Wuwas very weak from loss of blood. Still he had his iron nerve and thatwas carrying him through. The two young doctors and the nurse hadscarcely begun to take off Craig's rude bandage to replace it properly,when a noise outside told us that a weeping and gesticulatingdelegation of Chinese had arrived.

  "Keep 'em back," called one of the doctors to an attendant. Theattendant tried to drive them away, but nothing could force them backmore than an inch or two as, in broken English, they sought to find outhow Wu was. Their importunity proved too much for only one attendant.Still gibbering and gesticulating, the crowd brushed past him as if hehad been a mere reed. The attendant raged about until he lost his head.But it was no use. There was nothing for him to do but to follow themin.

  Kennedy by this time had finished talking to the doctors and handing Wuover to them. They had taken him into a room in the dispensary. Justthen the chattering crowd pushed in, some asking questions, othersbewailing the fate of the great Wu Fang. They were so insistent that atlast one of the doctors was forced to demand that the police drive themout. They started to push them back.

  In the melee, one of their number managed to get away from the rest andreach the doorway to the emergency room. He was, as we found out later,dressed almost precisely like Wu, although he had on a somewhatdifferent cap. In build and size as well as features he was a veritableDromio.

  The other Chinaman drew back behind the screen which hid the doorway tothe emergency room and concealed himself.

  Meanwhile, Kennedy and I were laughing at the truly ludicrous antics ofthe astounded Celestials, thunderstruck at the capture of the peerlessleader, while the police forced them back.

  "Well, good-bye," nodded Craig to the first doctor and nurse who hadattended Wu Fang outside.

  "Good-bye. We'll fix him up and take good care that he doesn't cheatthe law," they said, with a nod to the sergeant.

  . . . . . . .

  In the emergency room, Wu was placed on an operating table and therewas bound up properly, though he was terribly weak now.

  Back of the screen, however, the other Chinaman was hiding, able to getan occasional glance at what was going on. There happened to be a tablenear him on which were gauze, cotton and other things. He reached overand took the gauze and quickly made it into a bandage, keeping one eyeon the bandaging of Wu. Then he placed the bandage over his ownshoulder and arm in the same way that he saw the doctors doing with Wu.

  They had finished with Wu and one of the doctors moved over to thedoorway to call the sergeant. For the moment the rest had left Wualone, his eyes apparently half closed through weakness. Each was busyabout his own especial task.

  From behind the screen which was only a few feet from the operatingtable, the secreted Chinaman stepped out. Quickly he placed his own haton Wu and took Wu's, then took Wu's place on the table while Wu slippedbehind the screen.

  The doctor turned to the supposed Wu. "Come now," he ordered, handinghim over to the p
olice. "Here he is at last."

  The sergeant started to lead the prisoner out. As he did so, he lookedsharply at him. He could scarcely believe his eyes. There was somethingwrong. All Chinaman might look alike to some people but not to him.

  "That's not Wu Fang!" he exclaimed.

  Instantly there was the greatest excitement. The doctors were astoundedas all rushed into the emergency room again. One of them looked behindthe screen. There was an open window.

  "That's how he got away," he cried.

  Meanwhile, several blocks from the hospital, Wu, still weak but morethan ever nerved up, came out of his place of concealment, gazed up anddown the street, and, seeing no one following, hurried away from thehospital as fast as his shaky legs would bear him.

  . . . . . . .

  Confident that at last our arch enemy was safely landed in the hands ofthe police, Kennedy and I had left the hospital and were hastening toElaine with the news. We stopped at the laboratory only long enough toget the torpedo from the safe and at a toy store where Craig bought afine little clockwork battleship.

  We found Elaine and Aunt Josephine in the conservatory and quicklyKennedy related how we had captured Wu.

  But, like all inventors, his pet was the torpedo and soon we wereabsorbed in his description of it. As he unwrapped it, Elaine drewback, timidly, from the fearful engine of destruction.

  Kennedy smiled. "No, it isn't dangerous," he said reassuringly. "I'veremoved its charge and put in a percussion cap. Let me show you, on asmall scale, how it works," he added, winding up the battleship andplacing it in the fountain.

  Next he placed the torpedo in the water at the other end of the tank."Come over here," he said, indicating to us to follow him into thepalms.

  There he had placed the strange wireless apparatus which controlled thetorpedo. He pressed a lever. We peered out through the fronds of thepalms. That uncanny little cigar-shaped thing actually started to moveover the surface of the water.

  "Of course I could make it dive," explained Craig, "but I want you tosee it work."

  Around the tank it went, turned, cut a figure eight, as Kennedymanipulated the levers. Then it headed straight toward the battleship.It struck. There was a loud report, a spurt of water. One of theskeleton masts fell over. The battleship heeled over, and slowly sank,bow first.

  "Wonderful!" exclaimed Elaine. "That was very realistic."

  We brushed our way out through the thick palms, congratulating Kennedyon the perfect success of his demonstration.

  So astonished were we that we did not hear the doorbell ring. Jenningsanswered it and admitted two men.

  "Is Professor Kennedy here?" asked one. "We have been to his apartmentand to the laboratory."

  "I'll see," said Jennings discretely, taking the card of one of themand leaving them in the drawing-room.

  "Two gentlemen to see you, Mr. Kennedy," Jennings interrupted ourcongratulations, handing Craig a card. "Shall I tell them you are here,sir?"

  Craig glanced at the card. "I wonder what that can be?" he said,turning the card toward us.

  It was engraved:

  W. R. Barnes U. S. Secret Service.

  "Yes, I'll see them," he said, then to us, "Please excuse me?"

  Elaine, Aunt Josephine and I strolled off in the palms toward the FifthAvenue side, while Jennings went out toward the back of the house.

  "Well, gentlemen," greeted Kennedy as he met the two detectives, "whatcan I do for you?"

  The leader looked about, then leaned over and whispered, "We've justhad word, Professor, that your model of the torpedo has been stolenfrom the Navy Department in Washington."

  "Stolen?" repeated Kennedy, staring aghast.

  "Yes. We fear that an agent of a foreign government has found a traitorin the department."

  Rapidly Kennedy's mind pictured what might be done with the deadlyweapon in the hands of an enemy.

  "And," added the Secret Service man, "we have reason to believe thatthis foreign agent is using a Chinaman, Wu Fang."

  "But Wu has been arrested," replied Craig. "I arrested him myself. Thepolice have him now."

  "Then you don't know of his escape?"

  Kennedy could only stare as they told the story.

  Suddenly, down the hall, came cries of, "Help! Help!"

  . . . . . . .

  While Craig was showing us the torpedo, the criminal machinery which Wuhad set in motion at orders from the foreign agents was working rapidly.

  Outside the Dodge house, a man had shadowed us. He waited until we wentin, then slunk in himself by the back way and climbed through an openwindow into the cellar.

  Quietly he made his way up through the cellar until finally he reachedthe library. Listening carefully he could hear us talking in theconservatory. Stealthily he moved out of the library.

  We had left the conservatory when he entered, peering through thepalms. On he stole till he came to the fountain. He looked about.There, bobbing up and down, was the model of the torpedo for which hehad dared so much. He picked it up and looked at it, gloating.

  The crook was about to move back toward the library, hugging theprecious model close to himself when he heard Jennings coming. Hestarted back to the conservatory. Jennings entered just in time tocatch a fleeting glimpse of some one. His suspicions were roused and hefollowed.

  The crook reached the conservatory and opened a glass window leadingout into the little garden beside the house. He was about to step outwhen the sound of voices in the garden arrested him. Elaine, AuntJosephine and I had gone out and Elaine was showing me a new rose whichhad just been sent her.

  The crook fell back and dropped down behind the palms. Jennings lookedabout, but saw no one and stood there puzzled. Then the crook, fearingthat he might be captured at any moment, looked about to see where hemight hide the torpedo. There did not seem to be any place. Quickly hebegan to dig out the earth in one of the palm pots. He dropped thetorpedo, wrapped still in the handkerchief, into the hole and coveredit up.

  Jennings was clearly puzzled. He had seen some one rush in, but theconservatory was apparently empty. He had just turned to go out when hesaw a palm move. There was a face! He made a dive for it and in amoment both he and the crook were rolling over and over.

  . . . . . . .

  Kennedy and the Secret Service men were talking earnestly when theyheard the cry for help and the scuffle. They rushed out and into theconservatory in time to see the crook, who had broken away, knock outJennings. He sprang to his feet and darted away.

  Kennedy's mind was working rapidly. Had the man been after the othermodel? The detectives went after him. But Craig went for the torpedo.As he looked in the tank, it was gone! He turned and followed the crook.

  I was still in the garden with Elaine and Aunt Josephine when I heardsounds of a struggle and a moment later a man emerged through thewindow of the conservatory followed by two other men. I went for him,but he managed to elude me and dashed for the wall in the back of thegarden. The Secret Service men fired at him but he kept on. A momentlater Craig came through the window.

  "Did any of you take the torpedo?" he asked.

  "No," replied Elaine, "we left it just as you had it."

  Kennedy seemed wild with anxiety. "Then both models have been stolen!"he cried, dashing after the Secret Service men with me close behind.

  The crook by this time had reached the top of the wall. Just as he wasabout to let himself down safely on the other side, a shot struck him.He pitched over and we ran forward.

  But he had just enough of a start. In spite of the shock and the woundhe managed to pick himself up and with the help of a confederatehobbled into a waiting car, which sped away just as we came over thewall.

  We dropped to the ground just as another car approached. Craigcommandeered it from its astonished driver, the Secret Service men andI piled in and we were off in a few seconds in hot
pursuit.

  . . . . . . .

  Down at the terminal where trains came in from Washington, Wu, muchbetter now, was waiting.

  He had pulled a long coat over his Chinese clothes and wore a slouchhat. As he looked at the incoming passengers he spied the man he waswaiting for, the young crook who had been waiting in the shrubberyoutside the Navy Building when the torpedo model was thrown out.

  The man had the model carefully wrapped up, under his arm. As his eyetravelled over the crowd he recognized Wu but did not betray it. Hewalked by and, as he passed, hastily handed Wu the package containingthe model. Wu slipped it under his coat. Then each went his way, inopposite directions.

  . . . . . . .

  It was a close race between the car bearing the two crooks and thatwhich Kennedy had impressed into service, but we kept on up through thecity and out across the country, into Connecticut.

  Time and again they almost got away until it became a question offollowing tire tracks. Once we came to a cross-road and Kennedy stoppedand leaped out. Deeply planted in the mud, he could see the tracks ofthe car ahead leading out by the left road. Close beside the tiretracks were the footprints of two men going up the right hand roadtoward the Sound.

  "You follow the car and the driver," decided Craig, hastily indicatingthe road by which it had gone. "I'll follow the footprints."

  The Secret Service men jumped back into the car and Kennedy and I wentalong the shore road following the two crooks.

  Already the wounded crook, supported by his pal, had made his way downto the water and had come to a long wharf. There, near the land-end,they had a secret hiding-place into which they went. The other crookdrew forth a smoke signal and began to prepare it.

  Kennedy and I were able, now, to move faster than they. As we came insight of the wharf, Kennedy paused.

  "There they are, two of them," he indicated.

  I could just make them out in their hiding-place. The fellow who hadstolen the torpedo was by this time so weak from loss of blood that hecould hardly hold his head up, while the other hurried to fix-the smokesignal. He happened to glance up, and saw us.

  "Come, Red, brace up," he muttered. "They're on our trail."

  The wounded man was almost too weak to answer. "I--I can't," he gaspedweakly, "You--go." Then, with a great effort, remembering the missionon which he had been sent, he whispered hoarsely, "I hid the secondtorpedo model in the Dodge house in the bottom of--" He tried hard tofinish, but he was too weak. He fell back, dead.

  His pal had waited as long as he dared to learn the secret. He jumpedup and ran out just as we burst into the hiding-place.

  Kennedy dropped down by the dead man and searched him, while I dashedafter the other fellow. But I was not so well acquainted with the layof the land as he and, before I knew it, he had darted into another ofhis numerous hiding-places. I hunted about, but I had lost the track.

  When I returned, I found Kennedy writing a hasty note.

  "I couldn't follow him, Craig," I confessed.

  "Too bad," frowned Craig evidently greatly worried by what hadhappened, as he folded the note. "Walter," he added seriously, "I wantyou to go find the fellow." He handed me the note. "And if anythingseparates us to-day--give this note to Elaine."

  I did not pay much attention to the tone he assumed, but oftenafterward I pondered over it and the serious and troubled look on hisface. I was too chagrined at losing my man to think much of it then. Itook the note and hurried out again after him.

  Meanwhile, as nearly as I can now make out, Kennedy searched the deadman again. There was certainly no clue to his identity on him, nor hadhe the torpedo model. Craig looked about. Suddenly, he fell flat on hisstomach.

  There was Wu Fang himself, coming to the wharf, carrying the model ofthe torpedo which had been stolen in Washington and brought up to himby his emissary.

  Kennedy, crouching down and taking advantage of every object thatsheltered him, crawled cautiously into an angle. Unsuspecting, Wu cameto the land-end of the wharf.

  There he saw his lieutenant, dead--and the smoke signal still besidehim, unlighted. He bent over in amazement and examined the man.

  From his hiding-place Kennedy crept stealthily. He had scarcely gotwithin reach of Wu when the alert Chinaman seemed to sense hispresence. He rose quickly and swung around.

  The two arch enemies gazed at each other a moment silently. Each knewit was the final, fatal encounter.

  Slowly Wu drew a long knife and leaped at Kennedy who grappled withhim. They struggled mercilessly.

  In the struggle, Craig managed to tear the torpedo out of Wu's hands,just as they rolled over. It fell on a rock. Instantly an explosiontore a hole in the sand, scattering the gravel all about.

  Relentlessly the combat raged. Out on the wharf itself they went, rightup to the edge.

  Then both went over into the water, locked in each other's vice-likegrip.

  Even in the water, they struggled, frantically.

  . . . . . . .

  My search for the escaped crook was unsuccessful.

  Somehow, however, it led me across country to a road. As I approached,I heard a car and looked up. There were the Secret Service men. Icalled them and stepped out of the bushes. They stopped and jumped outof the car and I ran to them.

  "Come back with me," I urged. "We found two of them. One is dead. Craigsent me to trace the other. I've lost the trail. Perhaps you can findit for me."

  We crashed through the brush quickly. Suddenly I heard something thatcaused me to start. It sounded like an explosion.

  "There's the place--over there," I pointed, pausing and indicating thedirection of the wharf whence had come the explosion.

  What was it? We did not stop a moment, but hurried in that direction.

  We reached the shore where we saw marks of the explosion and of afight. Out on the pier I ran breathlessly. I rushed to the very edgeand gazed over, then climbed down the slippery piling and peered intothe black water beneath.

  A few bubbles seemed to ooze up from below. Was that all?

  No, as I gazed down I saw that some dark object was there. Slowly WuFang's body floated to the surface and lay there, rocked by the waves.Deep in his breast stuck his own knife with its handle of the Sign ofthe Serpent!

  I reached down and seized him, as I peered about for Kennedy.

  There was nothing more there.

  "Craig!" I called desperately, "Craig!"

  There was no answer. The silence, the echo of the lapping water underthe wharf was appalling, mocking.

  I managed to call the Secret Service men and they got Wu Fang's body upon the wharf.

  But I could not leave the spot.

  Where was Craig? There was not a sign of him. I could not realize it,even when the men brought grappling irons and began to search the blackwater.

  It was all a hideous dream. I saw and heard, in a daze.

  . . . . . . .

  It was not until late that night that I returned to the Dodge house.

  I had delayed my return as long as I could, but I knew that I must seeElaine some time.

  As I entered even Jennings must have seen that something was wrong.Elaine, who was sitting in the library with Aunt Josephine, rose as shesaw me.

  "Did you get them?" she asked eagerly.

  I could not speak. She seemed to read the tragic look on my haggardface and stopped.

  "Why," she gasped, clutching at the desk, "what is the matter?"

  As gently as I could, I told her of the chase, of leaving Craig, of theexplosion, of the marks of the struggle and of the finding of Wu Fang.

  As I finished, I thought she would faint.

  "And you--you went over everything about the wharf?"

  "Everything. The men even dragged for the--"

  I checked myself over the fateful word.

  Elaine
looked at me wildly. I thought that she would lose her reason.She did not cry. The shock was too great for that.

  Suddenly I remembered the note. "Before I left him--the last time," Iblurted out, "he wrote a note--to you."

  I pulled the crumpled paper from my pocket and Elaine almost tore itfrom me--the last word from him--and read:

  DEAREST:

  I may not return until the case is settled and I have found the stolentorpedo. Matters involving millions of lives and billions of dollarshang on the plot back of it. No matter what happens, have no fear.Trust me.

  Lovingly, CRAIG.

  She finished reading the note and slowly laid it down. Then she pickedit up and read it again. Slowly she turned to me.

  I think I have never seen so sublime a look of faith on any one's facebefore. If I had not seen and heard what I had, it might have shaken myown convictions.

  "He told me to trust him and to have no fear," she said simply,gripping herself mentally and physically by main force, then with anair of defiance she looked at me. "I do not believe that he is dead!"

  I tried to comfort her. I wanted to do so. But I could do nothing butshake my head sadly. My own heart was full to overflowing. An intimacysuch as had been ours could not be broken except with a shock that toremy soul. I knew that the poor girl had not seen what I had seen. Yet Icould not find it in my heart to contradict her.

  She saw my look, read my mind.

  "No," she cried, still defiant, "no--a thousand times, no! I tellyou--he is not dead!"