The Gray Phantom's Return

by Herman Landon

  CHAPTER XXIV--THE FACE IN THE LIMOUSINE

  Twelve or more pairs of eyes looked up as the Phantom walked into thecoffee house. They gave the newcomer a long, stony stare, followed hisbrisk progress across the floor to a table in the rear, then looked downagain into coffee cups and pipe bowls, as if the new arrival had beencompletely forgotten.

  With a view to obtaining an unobstructed view of Matt Lunn's face, thePhantom had chosen his position carefully. He wished to study the manbefore he approached him. A glance told him that Granger's descriptionhad been apt but incomplete. He was a wicked-looking creature, withcoffee-brown complexion, eyes that were as hard and emotionless as bitsof colored porcelain, and thick, coarse lips that were fixed in aperpetual sneer and gave him a look of sullen ferocity that was set offstrikingly by the scar over his eye.

  The Phantom noted these details and made his deductions while he gavehis order to a gaunt, hunchbacked waiter. So far Lunn, who sat aloneacross an aisle between the tables, had not even looked in his directionand seemed totally unaware of his presence. The others, too, appeared tobe ignoring him, but furtive glances and an occasional whisper warnedthe Phantom that he was under surveillance.

  He sipped a little of the coffee that was brought him, shoved the cupaside and strolled across the aisle, seating himself opposite the manwith the scar.

  "Hello, Lunn," he said easily, imitating Granger's manner of speech. Itwas a convenient opening, even if he should not be able to deceive theman in regard to his identity.

  Slowly the other lifted his flinty eyes, fixing a vacuous stare on thePhantom's face, and pulled hard at his pipe. "Hullo, yourself," was hisgruff response.

  "A bit grouchy to-night, Lunn?" bantered the Phantom, resuming his studyof the man at closer range and confirming his previous suspicion thatMatt Lunn was a bully with a coward's heart. A cranning of necks andlowering glances signified that the rest of the men in the room werefollowing the conversation.

  "You called me by a different name last time you saw me," grumbled Lunnsuspiciously.

  The Phantom masked his momentary confusions behind a grin. After all, hehad scarcely hoped to fool Lunn, for the latter and Granger had beenintimately acquainted for some time, and this was putting the ruse tothe acid test.

  "You've got so many monickers, Lunn, that I can't remember them all.Which particular one would you like to have me use to-night?"

  "The same one you always used before, if you know which one that is."

  Of a sudden the Phantom wished that Granger had given him more explicitinformation regarding Lunn. The man with the scar was plainlysuspicious, and the Phantom was not yet quite ready for action.

  "Tell me where I can connect with a drink," was his jocular evasion, "orI'll call you a name you never heard before."

  The other sneered. "There are some things that hurt a lot worse thannames do. One of them is a knife in the side, and I've been told afellow whose name is Tommie Granger is going to get just that unless heexplains certain things to the big chief."

  The Phantom's face sobered. "I'm ready to explain. That's why I lookedyou up to-night. But we can't talk in here. Suppose we take a walkaround the block?"

  Lunn laughed derisively. "I was referrin' to a guy named Tommie Granger.He looks a lot like you and he hands out pretty much the same kind ofspiel, and yet I could tell the difference almost as soon as I put mylamps on you. Just the same, I'd as soon walk around the block with theGray Phantom as with anybody else."

  He spoke the last sentence in a whisper, accompanying the words with agrin that rendered his face all the more repellent. The Phantom cast aquick glance at the evil-looking faces at the other tables, wonderingwhether Lunn had any confederates in the room. They were the scum of thelower levels of the underworld, and their blotched and hardened featuresbespoke lives steeped in loathsome iniquities, but, unless there weremembers of the Duke's organization among them, the Phantom saw no reasonwhy they should side against him.

  He paid the hunchback and walked behind Lunn toward the door. Sullen andcovert glances followed him, but none of the men rose, and he waspermitted to reach the door without interference. He glanced back as hestepped out on the sidewalk and made sure that Lunn and himself were notbeing followed.

  The man with the scar took a few steps down the street, then stopped andwhirled round.

  "What's the idea?" he demanded brusquely. "Why did you walk in there andtry to pass yourself off as Tommie Granger?"

  "Not so loud, Lunn." The Phantom glanced about him quickly. For themoment the block happened to be deserted. Lunn was standing with hisback to the dark doorway of the factory building which adjoined thecoffee house. There was a menacing scowl in his face and his right handwas hovering over one of his pockets.

  Again the Phantom darted a quick glance up and down the street. The onlyperson in sight was the lonely figure leaning against the stack ofgrocery boxes on the farther corner. Evidently Granger had not moved asingle step from his post.

  "I'm listening," said Lunn. "What's the answer?"

  "This is your answer." With one hand the Phantom pinioned Lunn's arm;with the other he jerked his pistol from his pocket and pushed itagainst the other's waist, shoving him into the shelter of the doorway.Lunn, startled by the swift maneuver, gave a throaty squeal.

  "Be quiet!" commanded the Phantom. "I have a few things to say to you,and I don't want any interruptions. I happen to know that you're amember of the Duke's gang. Your crowd is after me tooth and nail, andthe reason you were so willing to take a walk with me was that you hopedto catch me off my guard and hand me over to your chief. You're a fool,Lunn. Cleverer men than you have tried that and failed. Feel that?"

  He jabbed the pistol harder against the other's waist, and a yawp ofterror proved that he had read Lunn's character accurately. The big man,who would have been a dangerous adversary if he had gained the upperhand, was cowering.

  "Now, Lunn," said the Phantom sharply, "a few quick answers may prolongyour life by a good many years. Did you ever hear of a young lady namedMiss Hardwick?"

  "The name sounds kind of familiar."

  "Don't stall! Miss Hardwick was kidnaped by members of the Duke's gang."

  "Ye-es." Lunn gulped. "I--I think she was."

  "You _know_ she was. Don't you?" The question was emphasized with alittle extra pressure on the pistol.

  "I've been told the lady was kidnaped, but that's all I know. I didn'thave anything to do with that job."

  The Phantom regarded him sharply, but his face was indistinct in thegloom. "Who did?"

  "I don't know; I never heard."

  "Where was she taken?"

  "I can't tell you that, either. Say, there's no use poking a holethrough me with that gat. I can't tell what I don't know."

  The Phantom was inclined to believe him. Evidently Granger hadoverestimated Lunn's store of inside information regarding the gang'sactivities.

  "There's one thing you can tell me, and you had better speak quickly.Where does this precious gang hang out? Where is its headquarters?"

  Lunn did not answer. He was breathing stertorously, and he uttered agroan or grunt whenever the pressure on the pistol was increased.

  "Out with it!" The Phantom cast an uneasy glance behind him as he spoke,but no one was in sight. "You'll never get out of here alive unless youtell."

  The big fellow trembled. "I've sworn to keep my mouth shut."

  "Well, I guess it wouldn't be the first time you have violated an oath.Where is the place?"

  "Will you let me go if I tell you?"

  An affirmative answer was on the Phantom's tongue, but he held it back."No, Lunn, you are not going to get off quite so easily. You might giveme a fictitious address, and I would have no way of verifying it untiltoo late. You will have to take me there, and I sha'n't let you go untilI have satisfied myself that it is the right place."

  Lunn groaned; and the Phantom looked dubiously along the street. Thewords were no sooner out of his mouth than a sense of diffidenc
eassailed him. To march an unwilling and treacherous guide through thestreets would be a hard and perilous task even at that late hour. Thenan idea came to him. He would signal Granger and instruct him to find ataxicab.

  He turned slightly and looked out of the doorway, waving his hand at thesolitary figure on the corner. In the next moment a short exclamation ofsurprise fell from his lips. A big black car was gliding down thestreet, slackening its pace as it drew nearer. The Phantom, stillpressing the pistol firmly against Lunn's body, saw that it was alimousine, and he was at a loss to understand what a car of that typewas doing in such a squalid neighborhood. Now it was crawling along veryslowly, swerving close to the curb as it came within a few feet of theentrance to the coffee house. The driver was leaning from his seat, asif looking for someone.

  Of a sudden a hoarse cry rose in the Phantom's throat. Forgetting Lunn,he sprang from the doorway. A face had appeared at the window of thecar--a white, rigid face with staring eyes and the look of death spreadover its features.

  The face was Helen Hardwick's.