Ellen examined the tiny automatic which nestled innocently in her rather spacious evening bag. She might have good use for it before the night was ended! Much practice had made her adept with the weapon. Its short barrel and special action were factors of lightning speed. Ellen could jerk that weapon into crackling use, plunk six slugs into a man-sized target at twelve feet, all within an interval of less than four seconds by the stop watch! She had done it upon occasion, and she kept her skill through constant practice!
Having ascertained that her weapon was ready for service, Ellen pulled a jaunty black hat on over her cap of sun-touched curls, a cape of white silk about her snowy shoulders, and glanced at herself in the tall mirror. She smiled, satisfied. The costume, plus a shining domino of black silk, was the identifying trademark of the intrepid Domino Lady! And Ellen, as she went down the deserted stairway of the hotel to the cab which waited at the curb, knew that she was embarking on one of the most dangerous ventures of her career!
Chapter 3: Bearding the Lion
JESS KILGARLIN was stopping at a rather pretentious hostelry near the racetrack. It was reputed to be the rendezvous of the gambling fraternity, and its reputation was not of the best. Just the sort of place in which one might expect to encounter men like the blackmailer and his gang.
During her rather lengthy ride to the hotel, Ellen had time to think and much food for thought. She knew that Kilgarlin would never part with the letters she sought without a struggle. There was a fortune at stake on his part, and, from her angle, there was her friends’ interests to be salvaged. Heretofore, Ellen had never opposed organized crime in this way, and the tales she had heard of Kilgarlin and his gang, and their methods, did nothing to reassure her as to the ultimate success of her perilous venture!
Now, after hours of planning and suspense, The Domino Lady was going on an anonymous and outwardly thankless mission of justice!
She dismissed her cab at a point near the hotel. She daren’t trust the driver in case there might be a check-up on her activities of the evening. If everything went along smoothly as planned, it would be an easy matter to get another taxi for the return to her hotel, she told herself. Carrying her evening bag in one pink-nailed hand, she proceeded on into the brilliantly lighted lobby of the hotel. Crossing the tessellated floor, she paused before the desk. An unctuous clerk smiled as he hastened forward to see what she wanted.
“Did Mr. Jess Kilgarlin arrive as yet?” she said, evenly, smiling at the youthful attendant.
“Why, yes. Mr. Kilgarlin arrived this morning,” the clerk answered, “but he’s out just now. I’ll send for him.” He reached for the desk bell.
“Oh, never mind that, please!” protested Ellen, quickly. “I’m his sister, you see! I’ll just go right up to his suite and wait for him, if you don’t mind.” She treated the attendant to another brilliant smile.
The attendant was young, impressionable, and inexperienced. He looked at Ellen, noted her beauty and evident refinement, glanced at the lobby crowded with racetrack visitors — and rang the desk bell. A boy answered quickly, took the pass key the clerk handed him and, as the clerk instructed, showed “Mr. Kilgarlin’s sister to her brother’s suite.”
“Just a moment!” Ellen spoke up as the bellhop turned to leave. She got out a crinkly dollar bill. “Has Mr. Kilgarlin been gone long?”
The youngster’s face brightened at the sight of the bill. “Yes’m. He went out right after dinner. Ought to be back most any minute, now, ma’am.”
“Thanks,” Ellen handed over the dollar. “Just don’t tell him I’m here in case you should see him. I want to give him a surprise. And please caution the clerk not to mention me to him.”
The boy promised to do that, and left. For a minute Ellen stared at the door. Something told her that this was all going over too smoothly. That had always been a sure indication of trouble! “So Mr. Kilgarlin will be back any minute, eh?” she whispered, sarcastically emphasizing the gangster’s name. “Well, it won’t take me long to tear this room apart and see if what I want is here.”
Fishing the shining, black domino from her bag, she hastily adjusted it about her great eyes. She drew the deadly little automatic. The feel of the corrugated rubber steadied her nerves, brought a surge of confidence to her brain. She turned to survey the room, saw a package of cigarettes on the dresser, and helped herself to one. Looking around for matches, she found a box on a writing desk and proceeded to light the fag. As usual, she was as cool as a winter breeze in the presence of ambient peril!
Working with quiet precision and noiseless speed, Ellen frisked the gangster’s room with a thoroughness that would have done justice to the most skillful burglar in the business. Yet after ten minutes of concentrated effort, she had not located the letters she sought. She uncovered a well-filled wallet, however, which she slid into her bag, smiling as she thought of the worthy purpose the blackmailer’s money would be helping!
Ellen considered, briefly. She knew it wouldn’t be like vulpine Kilgarlin to leave valuable and incriminating material in the hands of others; unscrupulous himself, he wouldn’t trust another man under any circumstances, fearing a frame or worse. So the letters must be somewhere in this room, or on Kilgarlin’s person!
A whisper of sound outside in the corridor brought Ellen up short. Her eyes wild through the slits in the domino, her full, cerise lips drawn into a tautened line, she whirled to face the door, the automatic bristling viciously!
The steps went on by; but they had served to warn Ellen. Now, with an effort of sheer desperation she concentrated upon the task at hand.
The letters were here; of that she was certain. Where to look next? For a moment, all sorts of schemes and plans rushed through her mind; but, presently, as she paused and looked around, her great brown eyes spied something that brought an exultant smile to her lips. From underneath the bed protruded the corner of a bulky suitcase!
Swiftly, she pounced upon it, dragged it forth, found it securely locked. Its weight told her that it was tightly packed. Looking about, Ellen saw a razor kit atop the dresser. When she opened it, she found inside a heavy, straightedge razor. With this formidable weapon, she quickly cut out the lid of the suitcase!
A quick examination of the suitcase showed that it contained files of incriminating documents and letters, most of them concerning leading characters of the day! Ellen Patrick worked rapidly, efficiently. She sorted through these files. Those which concerned themselves with minor characters, she ignored. The more deadly of the documents were sorted into a compact bundle to be destroyed later if she were fortunate enough to escape with them — and her life!
Jess Kilgarlin had his gangsters sprinkled about the premises; that fact had made him over-confident. He had slipped up in leaving his suitcase of evidence in the hotel room. Had he known the Domino Lady better and not underestimated her ability and daring, it might have been another story, thought Ellen, as she located the Frances Kilgore letters and added them to the sizable pile beside the suitcase.
Picking up the bundle which she tied with a piece of cord from her bag, Ellen dug a card from the same receptacle. This she carefully placed on top of the ruined suitcase. It was a black card, and on it in white ink was inscribed the legend which had brought fear to many an unscrupulous scoundrel during the past three years: Compliments of The Domino Lady!
With the bundle beneath her left arm, and the bag in her left hand, Ellen slipped the tiny automatic into the low-cut bodice of her gown. She switched off the lights, opened the door cautiously, and peered out. At the moment the corridor was deserted!
Ellen opened the door wider, stepped into the hall, about to pull the portal behind her. Elated, and with triumphant blood singing in her ears, she did not hear quick steps behind her. She couldn’t comprehend what it meant when a heavy hand clamped upon her bare shoulder! She turned about, gasped aloud as she stared into the hard, sneering features of a man whom she instantly recognized as Jess Kilgarlin, the gangster chief!
HOT blood in her veins turned to a gelid stream of ice as Ellen stared through the mask into Kilgarlin’s cruel eyes. They were beady, snake-like orbs, mirroring all the killer instinct in the man. Ellen shuddered at the sheer ferocity she saw there.
The dread moment she had feared and avoided for so long was at hand. Imprisonment as a common criminal, ignominious death, or worse stared her bleakly in the eye! The gangster must have read her thoughts. His thin lips pulled back in a wolfish snarl of hate.
“So, The Domino Lady, eh?” he gritted, harshly. “This is the end of the trail for you! I baited the trap just to see if you’d have the guts to show up! And I waited outside here to catch you with the goods! No one has ever put anything over on Jess Kilgarlin, baby! What’ve you got to say for yourself?” He shook her by one soft shoulder as a terrier might shake a rat, eyed her full figure and laughed, raucously.
BEFORE Ellen could move or speak, two other men hastened up, crowding close. “So you got her, chief?” crowed one, grinning evilly. “Got her in the act, eh?”
Kilgarlin swung around, angrily. “Pipe down, Louie!” he snarled, testily. “Wanna draw a crowd and start something?”
“You should worry about that, Jess,” said the second gangster, “With your pull you could tear this joint down stick by stick and I guess there wouldn’t be much fuss made about it. Now that you’ve got the dame, how about tearing off that mask and letting us have a look-see at the mystery lady, chief?” He grinned, expectantly.
Kilgarlin laughed and answered, but Ellen did not hear him. A small crowd was congregating in the corridor. Goaded by despair and casting all caution to the winds at the prospect of having her identity established, Ellen did a rash thing.
The big, dark-featured gangster chief had turned to face his two men, placing himself almost in front of Ellen. Without thought of the possible consequences, and bracing herself against the door for an instant, Ellen suddenly hurled herself forward! Stiff-armed, she drove her athletic hundred and twenty pounds of weight against Kilgarlin’s broad back!
With stunning force, the big criminal landed against one of his men. The two men staggered and fell to the floor. With the other gangster close behind, Ellen dashed up the nearby stairs!
“Halt, or I’ll shoot!” shouted the pursuer, drawing a wicked-looking automatic. Ellen laughed recklessly over her shoulder, the thrill of actual encounter firing her racing blood.
“Shoot, and be damned!” she shouted back.
A gun roared just behind the speeding girl. A slug tore viciously through the evening bag which dangled beside Ellen’s left hip, and whanged into the top stair! Another sang like an angry bee as it passed her right ear to bury itself harmlessly in the wall of the upper hallway! The gangster swore obscenely, as Ellen reached the top stair. She leaped swiftly around the banister out of range.
There she crouched, waiting. She dug the little automatic from the bodice of her frock, thumbed it, desperately. She didn’t want to shoot if there was any other way out. She had never taken human life, and she didn’t want to begin now! But Kilgarlin’s men wouldn’t let her escape alive if it could be prevented in any way. So...
The Kilgarlin hood pounded up the stairs through the powder smoke, reached the top stair — and Ellen shot! She aimed low, desiring only to cripple pursuit; and the slug whanged into the leg of the criminal. He let out an agonized yell, and toppled backward down the stairs!
Then Ellen was running swiftly and silently down the corridor on her stilted heels. She had taken the only course open to her, and fled up the stairs without thinking. Now she began to wonder what she was to do next. Within a few minutes, Kilgarlin henchmen would have the hotel and grounds surrounded. Escape would be an impossibility. Whatever was to be done must be accomplished quickly, or not at all!
The lobby below was in an uproar. And, from the sounds that reached Ellen’s ears, everyone was running toward the lobby. In that, the quick-witted little adventuress thought she saw her chance.
Slipping quietly down the rear stairs, she made for the door to the rear porch. It was the first time in her career that she had ever been cornered, and Ellen was thrilling as she had never thrilled before. It was a grand experience, this matching wits and daring with a notorious criminal and his cutthroat gang! These, and other similar thoughts, danced through Ellen’s head as she slipped quietly downward. Just as she grasped the knob of the rear door, someone shouted:
“Here she is! Here’s that Domino Lady!”
And the crowd took up the yell. As Ellen glided swiftly across the porch, the shrill cries of women mingled with the hoarse shouts of the men:
“There she goes! That’s her!”
“Grab her!”
Full-speed, Ellen ran for the tree-dotted grounds. Behind her, someone began firing a revolver. But the shots winged wide. She dodged behind a tree, ran for another and got behind it. Her heart was pounding against her ribs like a triphammer, but only from the exertion of the chase. Something totally primitive had awakened in her innermost being, she thrilled to the core!
Dodging from tree to tree, Ellen reached the side street. A string of cars were parked along the curb. She knew cars. She picked one which she knew had speed, and felt for the ignition key. Miracle of miracles, it was in the switch! The gods of chance were with her.
She leaped into the car. The crowd was now sweeping over the hotel grounds, shouting. She tuned on the switch, kicked at the starter. The motor whirred and died. Again, she kicked the obstinate starter, this time pulling out the choke. Again, the motor whirred and this time it did not stop. Leaving the choke out, Ellen put the gear in reverse and backed from the curb.
The sound of the car backing out attracted the attention of the men pouring from the grounds to the street. Yelling, they surged toward the slowly moving car!
In low, the car started down the street. The mob was closing in rapidly as Ellen shifted to second. Sharp to the right she turned to avoid hitting a running figure. Quickly, she shifted to high. Two shots rang out and orange flame seared the night as she took the corner on two wheels, and the slugs hummed uncomfortably close. One left a huge web of shattered glass in the windshield near Ellen’s head!
Then — down the lonely street — roaring into the darkness of a country dirt road where the domino mask was quickly discarded. And, half an hour later, the young adventuress climbed from a taxi in front of her hotel. Carrying her evening bag in hand, and with a bulky package under her arm, she walked casually through the lobby and took the lift upward to her suite!
Chapter 5: The Handicap
“I WISH that Domino Lady were here this afternoon!” grinned Lee Kilgore. He was sitting beside Ellen in his private box at the Santa Anita track, awaiting the start of the famous Mountain States Handicap whose outcome meant so much to him. “If she were, I’d place a nice bet for her on the winner!”
Ellen laughed. “So you know the winner before the race starts?” she teased, dimpling. “Sounds mighty crooked to me!”
“Maybe so, honey,” Kilgore echoed her laugh, “but they’ll never beat Burnt this afternoon! Not after all the Domino Lady has accomplished for Fran and I!” His tone was vibrant with thankfulness. He had received Frances’ letters, intact, in the morning’s mail; accompanying them was a tiny black card. Inscribed on its smooth surface was the message which told the story: Compliments of The Domino Lady!
Ellen allowed fragrant cigarette smoke to seep from between her full, red lips as she crossed shapely silken calves, nonchalantly. The motion drew the admiring gaze of her companion. She said, “Did you really mean you wanted to make a wager for The Domino Lady, Lee?”
“Sure! Why?” he asked.
“Why, since she isn’t here,” Ellen replied, softly, “why not make it for me in her interests? They say she is interested in charity. And if I should win, I would give it to charity anonymously, just as she does.”
“Say, that’s not a bad idea, at that!�
�� enthused Kilgore, grinning. “I have a thousand on Burnt at six to one; you have five hundred at the same price. So I’ll just put another five hundred on him for The Domino Lady! And I may decide to give a split of the fifty grand purse to charity in appreciation of her services, Ellen!”
“Yes,” agreed Ellen, evenly, “that would be great! But don’t you think you’d best wait until you’ve won the fifty thousand before giving any part of it away?”
Lee laughed and started to frame a reply when a shout arose. “They’re off!”
The thrilling chant came as a single voice from the throats of the milling thousands that packed the Santa Anita course as the Mountain States Handicap got underway. The cream of the American turf was competing for the rich purse, and ridden by America’s premier jockeys.
Ellen Patrick thrilled to the spectacle as she clung to Lee Kilgore’s arm, her great brown eyes dancing. How her father would have enjoyed this! The thought brought a momentary sadness to her, but it was quickly dispelled. Ellen always felt that her father’s keen grey eyes were watching her and indulging in her activities with her, no matter if she were in the midst of danger, or merely enjoying some festive affair!
A GROAN from Kilgore drew her gaze to the track. It had been a bad start; the starter didn’t call the field back to the gate. Lee’s horse broke in a tangle, and was practically left at the post! Tommy Wing, his jockey, was whipping him into stride as the field swept past the stands toward the first turn. The hearts of Ellen and Lee went cold at the luck they were having.
Commodore Drake, a trim, black colt was leading by a length. As they straightened out on the back stretch, Midnight Rogue, a 15-to-1 shot, crept determinedly into the lead, the others bunching up behind.
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