CHAPTER XVII--THE DUKE'S MESSENGER
In vain the Phantom spurred his wits to find a way out, but the thoughtthat hurt him most was that he was helpless at a moment when HelenHardwick might be in danger.
What had happened to her? His imagination pictured one fearfulpossibility after another. The one that seemed most likely was that theDuke's agents, aware of the Phantom's interest in the girl, had luredher into a trap. The Duke, thorough and artful in all things, could bedepended upon to miss no opportunity to make his revenge complete.
He tried to clear his mind of harrowing surmises. His situation wasdesperate, and now as never before he needed to think coolly and actquickly. At any moment Pinto might return, and the seconds wereprecious. The thought that sustained him was that his wits had never yetfailed him in an emergency, and that always in the past he had contrivedto squeeze out of tight corners by performing some astounding feat.
Yet, was his dismal afterthought, he had never before faced a situationquite like this. To escape with a lifeless form gyved to his hand wasout of the question. He looked swiftly about the room, but saw nothingthat suggested a means of deliverance. Even the pistol he had droppedhad been removed by the thoughtful Pinto. If he escaped, was hisconclusion, it would be only by a stroke of amazing luck.
Suddenly, as a new thought came to him, he thrust his free hand into hisinside breast pocket. His face brightened a little. Pinto had overlookedsomething, after all. His case, with its assortment of carefullyselected tools, was still there. Evidently Pinto had not thought itnecessary to search his pockets. He took out the little box and ran hiseyes over the snugly packed implements, each of which had been preparedwith a definite purpose in view.
Quickly he tried several of his sharp-pointed tools in the locks of thehandcuffs, but the mechanism was proof against manipulation, and he soongave up the attempt. Next he picked out a small, fine-toothed saw, buthe realized he would only be wasting time if he tried to cut through thechilled steel of which the links were made. It might be done if he hadhours at his command.
A step sounded in the hall. One more hope remained. From his case hetook a small capsule, pointed at one end and scarcely longer than a pin.It contained a combustible powder, and the Phantom had carried it withhim for just such an emergency as this. Now he took one of Granger'scigarettes from his pocket, inserted the capsule at one end, and put thecigarette in his mouth. Then he returned the case to his pocket and,just as the door came open, was making an elaborate pretense of huntingfor a match.
He looked up with an air of unconcern--and in the next instant thecigarette dropped from his gaping lips. He had expected Pinto to walk inwith one or more of his colleagues, but instead he saw the dwarfishcreature who had handed him the paper bearing the Duke's emblem.
For a few moments the little man remained in the doorway, sweeping theroom with a quick, nervous glance, then closed the door and cameforward. Mechanically the Phantom restored the cigarette to his lipswhile staring at the queer intruder. The electric light lent a yellowtinge to his shriveled face--a face so gloomy and sour that it gave theimpression of never having been lit up by a grin. He drew a pistol fromhis pocket as he approached the Phantom.
"Well, Granger, you sure got into a mess," he observed, speaking in awheezy, drawling voice.
"So it seems," agreed the Phantom, his mind working quickly. "Got amatch?"
The weazened individual handed him one, but the Phantom seemed in nohurry to light his cigarette.
"I kinda thought you'd get yourself in bad, the way you carried on,"continued the little man, gazing indifferently at the body. "Didn't yousavvy the note I slipped you?"
"It was plain enough."
"But you paid no more attention than if it had been an invitation to adog fight."
"I didn't think there was any great rush," said the Phantom cautiously."I thought to-morrow would be time enough."
"Time enough? He, he! Well, you're a queer one, Granger. Guess you don'tknow the big chief the way I do. When he sends for you it means he wantsyou right away. He's already kinda leery about you and-- But that's yourfuneral. Hope for your sake you can square yourself with him. It's alucky thing I turned back and got on your trail after slipping you thenote."
The Phantom, wondering what had happened to the policeman, lookeduneasily at the door. "Where's Pinto?" he asked after a pause.
"The cop? Oh, I fixed him. Handed him one from the rear as he wasstarting down the stairs, and he never knew what struck him. Just gave agrunt and went down like a bag of cement. You see, I'd been standing atthe door trying to get the hang of the gabfest between you and him. Icouldn't hear much--only a word now and then--but when the door opensand the cop walks out I know there's trouble, and so I hand him one onthe bean. Say, how much is that cop wise to?"
"Eh?" The Phantom stared for an instant, uncertain how he should playhis role, but he quickly grasped the threads of the situation. "Oh,Pinto is away off on his hunches. Hasn't the least idea I'm one of yourgang, but thinks I am dragging a red herring across the Phantom's trail.Rich--what?"
The other chuckled mirthlessly. "I'll say it is. Well, the cop won't doany talking for quite a long stretch, and when he comes to things willbe kind of hazy in his coco. You'd better come along with me and makeyour spiel to the big chief. You'll have to do some tall explaining,and, unless you can square yourself, you may wish the cop had got you."
There was an ugly smirk on the man's lips and he spoke the last words asif gloating over the ordeal in store for the other.
The Phantom shrugged his shoulders. "I can explain things to the bigchief. What worries me is the bracelet on my wrist!"
"I'll get the key out of the cop's pocket," announced the little man.
The Phantom gazed after him as he left the room. A little while ago hehad told himself that only a stroke of magic could save him, and theweazened creature's appearance at the crucial moment seemed almostmiraculous. Yet he looked a trifle dubious.
"I'm coming out of the fire," he mumbled, "but I haven't the least ideawhat the frying pan will be like. The little rat may be hard to shake,and Pinto will spoil my alibi as soon as he comes out of oblivion."
The small man returned and tossed a metallic object at the Phantom'sfeet, then stood aside, with pistol leveled, while the handcuffs werebeing unlocked. His sharp eyes followed every move the Phantom made, butevidently there was not the faintest suspicion in his mind as to theidentity of the man with whom he was dealing. In all likelihood he knewGranger but slightly and had never seen much of him.
"There!" exclaimed the Phantom as the link around his wrist parted."Pinto will be the most surprised cop in creation when he walks in hereand finds the bird flown. I'm dying for a smoke."
He rose to his feet and struck the match, glancing narrowly at the otheras he lighted his cigarette. There was a look of habitual alertness inthe little man's glittering eyes, and the pistol in his hand more thanequalized his physical disadvantage.
"Look here, Granger," he said in harsh, wheezy tones, "I don't quiteknow how to size you up, but you and the chief are going to have a chatdirectly. I'm putting my gat inside my pocket--like this. I'll have myfinger on the trigger all the time, so you'd better watch your step.We're off."
He motioned the Phantom to start. With a hard pull on his cigarette, thePhantom drew in all the smoke his mouth could hold, strolled forwardwith an easy swagger, and, turning abruptly on the little man, blew acloud of smoke into his face.
The victim gasped, spluttered, and choked, then was seized with anattack of sneezing that racked his sides and convulsed his entire body.Spasm after spasm shook the puny figure until the little man was quiteexhausted. Covering his nose and mouth, the Phantom stepped behind himand snatched the pistol from his pocket.
"The sneezing powder worked even better than the last time I tried it,"he observed with a chuckle.
"Ker-choooo!" was the other's explosive comment. "Ker-chooooo!"
Slowly the acrid fumes drifted toward the c
eiling. The little man, withtears streaming from his red-lidded eyes, lurched toward one of the rowsof packing cases and leaned against it. The smoke was scattering, butrepeated fits of sneezing were still jolting his frame.
The Phantom smothered the cigarette under his heel. A simple trick hadturned the situation in his favor, but now he faced another problem. Howto dispose of the little man and Pinto was a poser. The former did notworry him, for he had bungled his job miserably, and silence anddiscretion were highly esteemed virtues in the Duke's organization.
It was different with Pinto. The policeman had seen through thePhantom's disguise. Immediately upon recovering consciousness he wouldreport that the Phantom was masquerading as Thomas Granger, and thatwould be the end of the ruse. The personality he had borrowed would nolonger protect the Phantom, and he would once more be a hunted man andobliged to watch his step at every turn.
On the other hand, it was just possible Pinto would not tell what he haddiscovered. The policeman had a bad conscience, and that in itself madea difference. Besides, the Phantom had twice slipped out of his handsand he had achieved nothing whereof he could boast. His pride and hisconscience, each a powerful factor, would be very likely to seal hislips.
Suddenly he smiled. To make doubly sure, he would provide Pinto with athird motive for maintaining silence. Without doubt the policeman sharedthe average man's fear of ridicule, and the Phantom could work on that.
The sneezings had ceased. The victim, looking as though every ounce ofstrength had been drained from him, peered vacantly at the Phantom whilethe latter removed the second link from the dead woman's hand. Exhaustedby the sneezing fits and deprived of his weapon, he was as helpless as asnake stripped of its poisonous glands.
"Put your hands behind you," directed the Phantom.
The little man made as if inclined to resist, but thought better of itand obediently put his hands at his back. He uttered a feeble yawp asone of the links was clasped about his wrist. With the other in hishand, the Phantom led him from the room and turned toward the stairs. Adark, inert heap lay at the head of the stairway, with legs sprawlingover the steps. It was Pinto.
"Sit down," ordered the Phantom.
The puny man looked about him dazedly, then sat down on the top step,uttering a weak protest as he found himself handcuffed to theunconscious man.
The Phantom examined Pinto's head. A large swelling at the back toldthat the little man had put far more force behind the blow than onewould have thought it possible for such a dwarfish creature to exert.The pulse was weak and fluttering, and the eyes had a rigid and glassylook. The Phantom had known of similar cases in which the victims hadremained unconscious for days, and many things might happen beforePinto's mind and tongue were functioning again. Upon awakening and beingtold that he had been found handcuffed to a rat of the underworld, thepoliceman, already troubled by an evil conscience and woundedself-respect, would hardly invite the taunts and jeers of his fellowofficers by going into exact details. At any rate, the Phantom felt hewas playing his best card.
"Say, Granger," whined the little man, "ain't going to leave me likethis, are you? Not after I got you out of the fix you were in?"
"It is a bit rough on you, I admit, but you will have to make the bestof it. Your reasons for getting me out of the scrape weren't entirelyunselfish. I believe it was your intention to put me on the carpetbefore the big chief."
The other jerked his head in the direction of the storeroom. "They'llsay I croaked that woman in there," he muttered.
"Not a chance. Examination of the body will show that the murder wascommitted more than twenty-four hours ago. What they probably will thinkis that Pinto caught you in the act of robbery and that you assaultedhim after he had handcuffed you to him. One guess will be about as goodas another, though, and you will have to lie yourself out of the messsomehow. I wish you luck."
He started down the stairs, but in the middle he stopped and lookedback. What if Pinto should never recover consciousness? If he should diebefore the two murder mysteries were fully cleared up, the Phantom'sefforts to exculpate himself would encounter a serious hindrance. Butnothing was to be gained by worrying over what might happen, he toldhimself, and just now he had something far more serious to think about.His fears concerning Helen overshadowed all other things.
He went out onto the street. The morning was far advanced and the sunwas struggling through a curtain of scattering clouds. The glaringheadlines of the morning papers spread out on the news stands at thecorner told how the Phantom, after having been seen at an elevatedrailway station the night before, had once more slipped through thedragnet. After a brief glance at the introductory paragraphs, he crossedthe street and entered the telephone booth in the rear of a drug store.There he consulted the directory and called the number of the Hardwickresidence.
A woman, evidently a servant, answered. The Phantom announced that hewas a reporter on the _Sphere_ and wished to speak with the master ofthe house. After a few moments' wait a masculine voice came over thewire. It trembled a little, as if its owner was trying to control anintense excitement. Mr. Hardwick was at first unwilling to discuss thematter, but after repeated urgings admitted that he had requested thepolice to search for his daughter, who had been missing for two days.She had left home without explanations of any kind, and nothing had beenheard from her since. As it was entirely unlike her to go away for anylength of time without notifying her father, Mr. Hardwick fearedsomething had happened to her.
The Phantom's face had a blank look as he emerged from the booth. Heremembered Miss Hardwick's sudden and mysterious disappearance fromDoctor Bimble's laboratory. Something must have befallen her afterleaving the scientist's house, and the fact that she had notcommunicated with her father was disquieting.
He went out on the sidewalk and turned toward the corner. Of a sudden hewas all caution and alertness. Someone was watching him.
The Gray Phantom's Return Page 17