Evening Star Newspaper, September 15, 1928, Page 9

SN A A S E MURDER By Edmund Snell. Thrilling Story of a Young Secret Service Man's Battle With Crime and Rescue of Girl in Peril. PAAKARAALALLALRRARRAREAERARRRRRRRNNES What's Happened Already. corpse turned blue! ¢ sight that er with Sir A This was the ¢limaxed Alan Tan Taverner A dinner that began so eolorfully, too. Across the Haye. the baronet’s Dighton's din tractive was & meazer W derfully up in the Lon- r Tan's luxurious apart- ¢ his ceputy. Corlitt. as he had been s Scotland about u which must be kept mut aquiet for reasc (Continued from Yesterday's s\ar)" INSTALLMENT 1. IGHTON'S worst enemy could not have accused him of nerves—and _vet there was something strangely uncanny about that lonely vigil in Cor- Htt's room, surrounded by the personal belongings of a man who had passed out so recently and with such tragic suddenness h chair drawn up to the ¢ of the electric radiator, trying in the light of the reading Jamp to memorize the data Taverner had g for the whirring note never came. His gz away from the ots to a pair of felt slip- against_the brass fender ser press Corlitt had d against the wall. folded pajamas, with bold blue stripes, lying on the single bed. where a maid had turned back the g about the room, ilet article the sec- sh, perhaps. Away there beyond the radius of the ollars, ties, a pile of ntimate things that made it difficult to realize Corlitt would never use them again. There was so little of Corlitt now that it scarcely shocked him—a shape that might almost have been a shadow—a long heap of blue dust that the draft from the door disturbed. He arranged the rug carcfully and stepped back. The room was just as they had left |it. 'The hunting pictures, one slightly | askew; the pipe-rack, Taverner's odd ! trophies, the safe, the roll-top desk. . . . Listening 21l the while for the sound | of Taverner's return, he moved swiftly | along the walls, paused by the safe, the | overturned table, hoping in a dim sort of way to hit upon some clue. He had not the ghost of an idea what he was looking for, was prepared not to be dis- appointed if this second inspection proved as abortive as the first. And lit. N W\ \_ ATHE EVENING STAR, WASHINGTON, D. €, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, T8 appeared to have given his deduction confirmation. He clenched the fingers of his right hand and allowed them to open slowly. Monsfeur Daudot was the Lizard or, conversely, the leader of the gang of whose existence Sir Ian was already aware had impersonated Daudot in or- der to obtain admittance by the private stairs. Charvoz, Rue de la Paix, the hatters whose name appeared on the band, might be able to remember who their cistomer was. He would like to follow up that clue, to pursue his investigation to Daudot's address in the French cap- ital. A fresh thought struck him. The hat, | which had brought this possibility to | light, which had forged a chain of evi- % take of breath behind the mask. A hand shot to a side pocket and, even as he cleared the space between them with rapld strides the adventurer was aware of a strange, bulky weapon being | withdrawn with difficulty. It was clear { when Dighton’s fist shot out—a thing | with a broad, stumpy barrel and twisted insulated wires which seemed to con- nect to some hidden container. . . . The adventurer's weight was behind that blow. Aimed upward, it caught the edge of the mask and the chin beneath, landing with such terrific force that it lifted the lighter man from his feet and pitched him clean through the doorway by which he had come. Dighton, nursing the fist that had wrought the damage, heard the first stage of that precipitate, involuntary descent. Stepping between the safe and the wall he kicked the door shut as a noise came from the shaft like the bursting of a steampipe. A second later he had clapped a handkerchief to his nose and retreated to the passage, fly- ing headlong from a cloud of tinted smoke that was curling under the door. Within two minutes of relocking the study door Dighton was in the street, looking for the lower entrance to the shaft. He found it presently, a quaint Gathic archway which he suspected Taverner had helped to design, with an iron-studded door that apparently was never fastened. More fumes met him as he pushed it inward, but there was no sign of the Lizard. He paused on the landing on his way up to survey a grazed knuckle. This and a high-crowned hat was all he had to show for an evening's work. A mil- lion-to-one chance had offered itself of cornering the masked intruder and wresting back the Pocket Death for his { chief. The odds had proved too great— {and yet he was by no means disap- {pointed. He had every reason to be thankful he had not shared Corlitt's fate. He was back by the radiator when Taverner looked in for the key. The other nodded at him and smiled, but said nothing. Footsteps passed along | the passage, a door opened and closed | again and Dighton heard the sound of | distant voices. He had almost fallen |off to sleep when Taverner beckoned him out. “Come into the drawing room,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “The coast's quite clear now. We've seen the last of poor Corlitt. I suppose Monsieur Daydot failed us?” hton frowned. Nobody has been here since you left,” he returned, “except the Lizard.” “The Lizard? “Oh, yes,” pursued Dighton, closing the drawing room door after them, “I had quite a set-to with him. Knocked him down your spiral staircase, and got out of range before he blazed off a sec- ond round from that gun. I'm afraid I lost_him, though.” The other stared at him in amaze- ment. “How did he get in?" “Let himself in with a key—Corlitt's key, I should imagine. I was in there covering up the poor devil at tae time. He seemed quite surprised to see me!” f r went over to the decanter. ou’ a cool devil, Alan,” he de- clared. “I knew I was right when I sent for you.” *“You don't think I ought to have held him, then?” “Held him,” echoed the other. “It amazes me to think you got close enough to hit him. How's that for a peg?"” “If youre looking at me, sir,” laughed Dighton, “it's a bit stiff!” “Nonsense!” retorted his host. “I've seen you lower a deal more than that. If your swallow’s still as good &s your | punch. you can do it again! The Liz- | :l\)rd. h! Wonder what made him come | back. This,” said the younger man. He brought the felt hat from behind hi back and held it so that Sir Ian could read the initials inside. “Afraid I exceded my duties tonight. I tried my hand at a little detective work—and this is the result.” He eyed the other anxiously, but Tav- erner’s red face betrayed no trace of annoyance. He reached for the hat and examined it closely. “E. D.?” He muttered presently. “E. D.?” “Etienne Daudot,” suggested Dighton quietly. Taverner started. He glared at his companion for some moments before replying. “Emile Daudot, my boy, not Etienne. It was a good shot, nevertheless, I wonder what it all means.” “Does it strike you that Daudot and the Lizard may be one and the same?” Taverner pursed up his lips. “Hardly likely. I think. Here! Drink up, my boy. We've to pick up Greta in Kensington in a quarter of an hour.” He bent down to the fire to warm his hands. “No,” he continued with conviction, “I'm afraid that theory won't wash. I'm sending you to Italy tomorrow, by the way. You can put in a night or two in Paris on your way South. Pity Daudot_couldn’t ‘stop to see me. I'd ive a lot to know what he told Cor- “But look here, sir,” persisted Digh- ton. “No fellow in possession of his senses wanders about London on a night like this without a hat! Perhaps the Lizard outed him before he got here |and threw in the hat for a blind.” Taverner was buttoning his overcoat. “Anything may have happened,” he admitted. “We can consider it more fully in the morning. Meantime—the Cockatoo Club! No need to worry about f the house. Scotland Yard have insisted | on putting a man outside. They have | to do something, you know, to justify their existence. Can you Charleston, by !heoby?" Taverner heaved a sigh of relief. “That's all that really matters at the moment,” he laughed. “From now un- til cockcrow it's Greta's shout. It's a mad age, Alan! If you can come up to the scratch as a dancing partner, my niece’ll love you forever!” Dighton flushed. “I don't think there's much fear of her doing that.” (To be continued tomorrow.) WOMAN HACKS SELF TO DEATH WITH RAZOR Denver Police Discard Murder Theory on Learning Hotel Room Door Was Locked From Inside. By the Associated Press. DENVER, September 15.—A Spartan suicide, wherein the victim apparently hacked herself to death, confronted the authorities here today with the death of Mrs. I. Ruby of Tulsa, Okla. The woman was found in a dying condition by hotel employes who broke into her suite in a downtown hotel here last night. Her body was lacerated by nearly 100 cuts and slashes inflicted with a razor. Many of the gashes were inches long. Discovery of a razor in the room and the fact all_entrances to the room on the fourth floor had been locked from | the inside caused police to discard the murder theory. No Fires Allowed. MACON, Ga.—Under an ordinance passed 12 years ago, the city of Macon should soon be noncombustible. The city building inspector is to enforce a law fhat every shingle or combustible roof must be replaced. Carolyn MODES Now at The Hecht Co. Exclusively Y FIELDS IS FREED IN LEGAL “DRAMA” Court Dismisses Complaint That Actor Tortured Bird on Stage. By the Assoclated Press YORK, September comedian, a dead canary, a few lawyers, two Humane Society agents 'and numerous newspaper photographers took part yesterday in a little legal drama that had a happy ending for the principal actor—W. C. Fields, the funny man. Fields was in Magistrate Simpson's Court charged with torturing the bird which he used in a Broadway show. The limp form of the yellow canary was there, too, lying in its cage on the magistrate’s bench. Harry Moran, superintendent of the Humane Society, testified that he saw the bird fly around the theater during the act last night, strike the roof and drop lifeless to the stage. He arrested Fields, but theatrical folk subsequently furnished the required bail. Fields thought the canary had been scared to death by the photographers or their flashlights. Magistrate Simp- |son, in dismissing the complaint, said there was no evidence that the bird had been tortured. 15.—A Luminous Nightsticks. NAPLES, Italy—Local traffic cops have been armed with “luminous night- sticks,” or batons with electric lights attached, to guide motorists through the dark and tortyous streets of the city. & =~ ‘>v 2 " He rose suddenly and switched on the other ligh Presently he began pacing the room, g with_his har lasped behind him, \ ! A pausing every now and again for the 2 i, ] 3 > sound of Taverner's key in the door— ; 3 anything, in fact, that would serve to break the dep: g silence. - > He looked at his watch. Taverner had been gone an hour. It was quarter past 10. And just more than three hours ago he had been jostled by the certain that such stylishness has never before been excelled. Carolyn Modes are NOT high priced, despite the fact ‘that their appearance easily leads one to believe so. OW you can see for yourself—dresses and coats expres- sive of a new era in merchan- dising—for Carolyn represents () mob clustering for a banquet! It seemed incredible. Pictures piled themselves in his mem- of an officious submanager at him to the cloakroom, ing with Greta, cock- tails and the walk along Oxford street. Other pictures followed; Jarrett’s white face at the entrance, a cigar burning a hale in a carpet and the ghastly heap | in that ray-shaped patch of blue. A voice echoed in his brain, so vividly that it might have been addressing him | only a second back: | “Are you still game for adventure, | Mr. Dighton?” He smiled grimly over the stem of an empty pipe. Well, the adventure had begun! Al- most before he knew where he was he was up to his neck in it! War, grim- mer than he had ever known it, was being waged all around him. Nations that talked of peace at Geneva were struggling for the possession of the latest device for human destruction. A door closed suddenly. He thought it was Jarreit in the other wing. Almost without warning he found | himself struggling with an overwhelming desire to go back to the study. A second inspection of the chamber of death might reveal new facts, clues that would throw fresh light on the identity of Cor- litt's assailant. The desire became an obséssion. Ten minutes later he had drawn the larger key from his pocket and was bolding it to the light. Another five minutes and he had made up his mind. He took the traveling rug from the | foot of the bed and went softly out into the passage. He could hear the clock in the room opposite ticking away merrily, the dull rumbling of traffic in the road outside. Listening outside the study, he could detect Jarrett's voice from the far end pintending to examine The door to the secret stairway opened and a grim figure confronted Alan. vet the desire to pursue some definite course of action rather than sit in mor- bid inactivity drove him on. He passed the thing three times be- fore he saw it—a man’s dark, high- crowned hat, lying by the wall in the shadow of the d Wildly excited, he pounced upon it, retreated with it toward the passage, it in Corlitt’s room. Before he had reached the door initials on the stained band inside brought him to a standstill—little oval aluminim things such as_continental hatters employ, with the silver letters E. D Daudot! The man from Paris who was expected at 8! His brain reeled. Then he had called—had been in that room before the tragedy. Corlitt had seen him. ... Still turning theithing over between his fingers, he sat down. Carried away by the importance cf this discovery, he did rot notice the beads of perspiration which stood out on his forehead, forgot even that he was cold. He felt himself on the brink of something stupendous, something that, Teyerner himself had overlooked. He tried to see how it all fitted in with what Taverner had told him: The secret agent murdered in a wagon-lit between the Italian frontier and Paris. Corlitt’s extended visit to Paris to per- suade the Frenchman who knew Ahl- borg personally to talk. If Daudot had come to Park Lane with honest intent, why had he departed so abruptly with- of the passage—Jarrett, a little steadier now, giving the cook the benefit of his experience in the world's affairs! He turned the key and went in. | The fire had gone out. He knew that | ore his fingers had found the h out waiting for Taverner? This new chief of his, this man who called him | by his Christian name and had com- manded his unit in Flanders, had taken it for granted that the assassin was the Lizard. The discovery of the green disk dence that appeared to Dighton com- plete—furnished at the same time its one weak link. Unless he had been dis- turbed at the psychological moment, it seemed incredible that so expert a crim- inel would have left without his hat. Still move inconceivable that he should have forgotten an article emblazoned with incriminating initials. The Lizard had little to fear in leav- ing the token; it merely concentrated attent’on upon the guise in which he was wont to perpetrate an outrage. The hat, on the other hand, gave away a useful ailas. He could be traced In Paris 2s Monsieur Daudot. Perhaps Jarrett had disturbed him ¥ith the leiter addressed to Taverner. A sudden noise from the far side of the subsidiary door brought him to his feet. He heard the rasp of metal on metal, a sharp eiick and then, with a swiftness that precluded all hope of stragetic retreat, the door was thrust open to its fullest extent and a man stepped into the room. Between the sound and the appari- tion it had flashed across Dighton's brain that Daudot had come back: Daudot, the assassin, returning for his property. But the grim figure that con- fronted him, bringing with him the damp, chill air of the bricked-in shaft, was not bareheaded. He wore a broad- brimmed gray velour and a dark blue belted trench coat with the collar turned up. The space between brim and collar was filled with a grotesque mask of a peculiar, dazzling whiteness, with eircles of amber talc that concealed the eyes. A Jade-rimmed monocle, suspended on a length of broad, black tape, rested on a fold in his coat and yellow driving gauntlets covered his hands. 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