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Show TP IFF TED 1RI ID . i STORY FROM THE START DefylriK all effort! to capture him, afir a Iomk series of murders mur-ders and roM,rles, a su):r-crook su):r-crook knuwn only as "'I'he Uat' ha.i brouKht about a veritable rnlt-n of terror. The chief of polio po-lio aaalKn his best operative. Anderson, to pjl on the trail of The hat. W fffi her niece. Dale OKden, Miss Cornelia Van (Jnrdnr la living In the country home of the late CourllelKh FlernlnK. who until his recent dealh had been president of the Union bank, wrecked because of the theft of a large sum- of currency. Ml" Van Oorder receives a note warning her to vacate the place at once on pain of dealh. Dale returns from the city, where she had been to hl.e a gardener The gardener arrives. Klvlns h 3 name as llrooks. He admits he Is not a gardener, hut needs work Miss Cornelia tells Doctor Wells of the threatening note. They are Interrupted by the smashlnK of a window In the house. They find another warning note. The detective. Anderson, arrives. Is told of the situation, and announces an-nounces he will slay on watch that nlK'ht. Miss Van Gorder tells Anderson she has an Idea CourtlclKh Flcmlnn robbed his own bank and concealed the money In the house. CHAPTER V Continued "Well, I wouldn't struggle like tliat fur a theory," lie said, the professional profes-sional note coming buck to his voice. "The cashier's missing that's the answer." an-swer." "Then you don't think there's a chance that the money from the Union bank Is in this house?" persisted Miss Cornelia. "I think It very unlikely." Miss Cornelia put her knitting away and rose. She slill clung tenaciously to her own theories but her belief In them had been badly shaken. "If you'll come with me, I'll show you to your room," she said, a little Bttlily. The detective stepped back to let her pass. "Sorry to spoil your little theory," he said, and followed her to the door, f either had noticed the unobtrusive listener to their conversation, neither made a sign. The moment the door had closed on them, Dale sprang Into action. She seemed a different girl from the one who had left the room so inconspicuously incon-spicuously such n short time before there were two bright spots of color In her checks and she was obviously laboring under groat excitement. She went quickly to the alcove doors they opened soflly disclosing the young man who had said that he was Hrooks the new gardener and yet not the same young man for his assumed as-sumed air of servitude had dropped from him like a cloak, revealing him as a young fellow at least of the same general social class as Dale's If not a fellow-inhabitant of the select se-lect circle where Van Gorders revolved re-volved about Van Gorders, and a man's great-grandfather was more important than the man himself. Dale cautioned him with a warning finger as he advanced Into the room. "Sli I Sh !" she whispered. "Be careful! That man's a detective!" IJrooks gave a hunted glance at the door into the hall. "Then they've traced me here," he Bitid In a dejected voice. "I don't think so." He made a gesture of helplessness. "I couldn't get hack to my rooms," lie said in a whisper. "If they've searched them," he paused, "as they're sure to they'll find your letters to me." lie paused again. "Your aunt doesn't suspect anything?" any-thing?" "No, I told her I'd engaged a gardener gar-dener and that's ail there was about It." He came nearer to ner. "Dale!" he murmured in a tense voice. "You know I didn't take that money!" he said, with boyish simplicity. All the loyalty of first-love was In her answer. "Of course! I believe in you absolutely!" abso-lutely!" she said. He caught her In his arms and kissed her gratefully passionately. Then the galling memory mem-ory of the predicament In which he stood the hunt already on his trail came back to him. lie released hor gently, still holding one of her hands. 'But the police here!" he stammered, stam-mered, turning away. "What does that mean?" Dale swiftly informed him of the situation. "Aunt Cornelia says people have been trying to break Into this house for days at night." r.rooks ran his hand through his hair In a gesture of bewilderment. Then he seemed to catch at a hope. "What sort of people?" he queried sharply. Dale was puzzled. "She doesn't know." The excitement In her lover's manner man-ner came to a head. "That proves exactly what I've contended right along." he said, thudding one fist softly soft-ly iu the palm of the other. "Through some underneath channel old Fleming Flem-ing has been selling those securities for months, turning them Into cash. And somebody knows about It. and knows that that money Is hidden here. Don't you see? Your Aunt Cornelia has crabbed the game by coming here." "Why didn't you tell the police that? Now they think, because you ran away " "Kun awey! The only chance I had was a few hours to myself to try to prove what actually happened." 9 A Novel from the Play By Mary R.oberts Rinehart and Avery Hopwood WNU Service The Dat," copyright. 1920. by Mary Roberts Ktnehart and Avery Hopwood. "Why don't you tell the detective "hat you think?" said Dale at her wits' end. "That Courtlelgh Fleming took the money and that it Is still here ?" Her lover's face grew somber "He'd tuke me Into custody at once and I'd have no chance to search." He was searching now his eyes roved about the living-room walls celling hopefully desperately looking look-ing for a clew the tiniest clew to support his theory. "Why are you so sure It Is here?" queried Dale. "Brooks explained. "You must remember re-member Fleming was no ordinary defaulter and he had no Intention of being exiled to a foreign country, fie wanted to come back here and take his place in the community while I was In the pen." "But even tiien " He Interrupted her. "Listen, dear " He crossed to the billiard room door, closed It firmly, returned. "The architect that built this house was an old friend of mine," he said In hushed accents. "We were together togeth-er In France and you know the way fellows get to talking when they're far away and cut off " He paused, seeing the cruel gleam of a star-shell two figures huddled In a trench, whiling away the terrible hours of waiting by muttered talk. "Just an hour or two before a shell got this friend of mine." he resumed, re-sumed, "he told me he had built a hidden room in this house." "Where?" gasped Dale. Brooks shook his head. "I don't know. We never get to finish that conversation. But I remember what he said. He said, Tou watch old Fleming. If I get mine over here it won't break his heart. He didn't want any living being to know about that room.' " Now Dale was as excited as he. "Then you think the money is In this hidden room?" "I do," said Brooks decidedly. "I don't think Fleming took It away with him. He was too shrewd for that. No, he meant to come back all right, the minute he got The word the bank had been looted. And he'd fixed things so I'd be railroaded to prison you wouldn't understand, but It was pretty neat. And then the fool nephew rents this house the minute he's dead, and whoever knows bout the money " "Jack I Why isn't it the nephew who Is trying to break in?" "He wouldn't have to break in. He could make an excuse and come in any time." He clenched his hands despairingly. "If I could only get hold of a blueprint blue-print of this place!" he muttered. Dale's face fell. It was sickening to be so close to the secret and yet not find it. "Oh, Jack, I'm so confused con-fused and worried !" she confessed, with a little sob. Brooks put his hands on her shoulders, shoul-ders, in an effort to cheer her spirits. "Now, listen, dear," he said firmly, "this isn't as hard as it sounds. I've got a clear night to work In and as true as I'm standing here, that money's in this house. Listen, honey It's like this." He pantomimed the old nursery rhyme of the house that Jack built. "Here's the house that Courtieigh Fleming built here, somewhere, some-where, is the hidden room in the house that Courtlelgh Fleming built and here somewhere pray heaven is the money in the hidden room in the house that Courtieigh Fleming built. When you're low in your mind, just say that over!" She managed a faint smile. "I ve forgotten it already," she said, droop, ing. tie sun suvl- lui u vuuuuu gaiety that he did not feel. "Why, look here!" and she followed the play of his hands obediently, like a tired child, "it's a sort of game, dearest. 'Money, money who's got the money?' You know!" For the dozenth time he stared at the unre-. vealing walls of the room. "For that matter," he added, "the hidden room may be behind these very walls." He looked about for a tool a poker anything that would sound tiie walls and test them for hollow spaces. Ah ! he had it that driver in the bag of golf clubs over in the corner. He got the driver and stood wondering where he had best begin. That blank wall above the fireplace looked as promising promis-ing as any. He tapped it gently with the golf club afraid to make too much noise aud yet anxious to test tiie wall as thoroughly as possible. A dull, heavy reverberation answered his stroke uothiDg hollow there, apparently. appar-ently. As he tried another spot, again thunder beat the long roll on its iron drum outside, in the nigiit. The lights blinked wavered recovered. "The lights are going out again," said Dale dully, her excitement sunk into a stupefied calm. "Let them go! The less light the better for me. Tiie only thing to do Is to go over this house room by room." He pointed to the billiard room door. "What's in there?" "The billiard room." She was thinking think-ing hard. "Jack! Perhaps Courtieigh Court-ieigh Fleming's nephew would know where the blue-print axel'1 . He looked dubious. "It's a chance, but not a very good one," he said. "Well " ne led the way into the billiard room and began to rap at random upon Its wails while Dale listened lis-tened intently for any echo that might betray the presence of a hidden chamber cham-ber or sliding panel. Thus It happened that Lizzie received re-ceived the first real thrill of what was to prove to her and to others a sensational and hideous night. For, coming Into the living room to lay a cloth for Mr. Anderson's night supper, not only did the lights blink threateningly threat-eningly and the thunder roll, but a series of spirit raps was certainly to be heard coming from, the region of the billiard room. "Oh, my God!" she wailed, and the next instant the lights went out, leaving leav-ing her In Inky darkness. With a loud shriek she bolted out of the room. Thunder lightning dashing of rain on the streaming glass of the windows the storm hallooing Its hounds. Dale huddled close to her lover as they groped their way back to the living room, cautiously, doing their best to keep from stumbling against some heavy piece of furniture furni-ture whose fall would arouse the iiouse. "There's a candle on the table, Jack, If I can find the table." Her outstretched out-stretched hands touched a familiar object. "Here It is." She fumbled for a moment. "Have you any matches?" "Yes." He struck one another lit the candle set it down on the table. In the weak glow of the little taper, whose tiny flame illuminated but a portion of the living room, his face looked tense and strained. "It's pretty near hopeless," he said, "If all the walls are paneled like that." As If In mockery cf his words and his quest, a muffled knocking that seemed to come from the ceiling of the very room he stood in answered his despair. "What's that?" asked Dale. They listened. The knocking was repeated knock knock knock knock. "Some one else is looking for the hidden room !" muttered Brooks, gazing gaz-ing up at the ceiling intently, as if he could tear from it the secret of tills now mystery by sheer strength of will. "It's upstairs!" Dale took a step toward the alcove stairs. Brooks halted halt-ed her. "Who's In tills house besides ourselves?" our-selves?" he queried. "Only the detective Aunt Cornelia Lizzie and Billy." "Billy's the Jap?" "Yes." Brooks paused an Instant. "Does he belong to your aunt?" "No. He was Courtieigh Fleming's butler." Knock knock knock knock the dull, methodical rapping on the ceiling ceil-ing of the living room began again. "Courtieigh Fleming's butler, eh?" muttered Brooks. He put down his candle and stole noiselessly Into the alcove. "It may be the Jap !" he whispered. whis-pered. Knock knock knock knock ! This time the mysterious rapping seemed to come from the upper hail. "If It is the Jap, I'll get him !" Brooks' voice was tense with resolution. resolu-tion. He hesitated made for the hall door tiptoed out Into the darkness around the main staircase, leaving Dale alone in the living room, beset by shadowy terrors. Utter silence succeeded his noiseless noise-less departure. Even the storm lulled for a moment. Dale stood thinking-wondering thinking-wondering searching desperately for some way to help her lover. At last a resolution formed In her mind. She went to the city telephone. "Hello," she said in a low voice, glancing over her shoulder now aud then to make sure she was not overheard, over-heard, "1 2 4 please yes, that's right. Hello is that the Country club? Is Mr. Richard Fleming there? Yes, I'll hold the wire." She loosed about nervously. Had something moved in that corner of blackness where her candle did not pierce? No! How silly of her! Buzz-buzz on the telephone. She picked up the receiver again. "Hello is this Mr. Fleming? This Is Miss Ogden Dale Ogden. I know It must seem odd my calling you this late, but I wonder If you could come over here for a few minutes. Yes-tonight." Yes-tonight." Her voice grew stronger. "I wouldn't trouble you but it's awfully aw-fully important Hold the wire a moment." mo-ment." She put down the phone and made another swift survey of the room, listened furtively at the door-all door-all clear! She returned to the phone. "Hello Mr. Fleming I'll wait outside out-side the house ou the drive. It it's a confidential matter. Thank you so much." She hung up the phone, relieved not an instant too soon, for, as she crossed toward the fireplace to add a a new log to the dying glow of the fire, the hall door opened and Anderson, Ander-son, the detective, came softly in with an uulighted candle in his hand. "Spooky sort of place in the dark, Isn't It?" he said casually. "Yes rather." If he would only go away before Brooks came back or She Looked About Nervously. Richard Fleming arrived! But he seemed In a distressingly chatty frame of mind. "Left me upstairs without a match," continued Anderson. "I found my way down by walking part of the way and falling the rest. Don't suppose I'll ever find the room I left my toothbrush tooth-brush in !" He laughed, lighted the candle in his hand from the candle on the table. "You're not going to stay up all night, are you?" said Dale, nervously, hoping he would take the hint. But he seemed entirely oblivious of such minor considerations as sleep. He took out a cigar. "Oh, I may doze a bit," he said. He eyed her with a certain approval. She was a darned pretty girl and she looked Intelligent. "I suppose you have a theory of your own about these Intrusions you've been having here? Or apparently having." "I knew nothing about them until tonight." "Still," he persisted conversational-' conversational-' ly, "you know about them now." But when she remained silent, "Is Miss Van Gorder usually of a nervous temperament? Imagine she sees things, and all that?" "I don't think so." Dale's voice was strained. Where was Brooks? AVhat had happened to him? Anderson puffed on his cigar, pondering. pon-dering. "Know the Flemings?" he asked. "I've met Mr. Richard Fleming once or twice." Something In her tone caused him to glance at her. "Nice fellow?" "I don't know him at all well." "Know the cashier of the Union bank?" he shot at her suddenly. "No !" She strove desperately to make the denial convincing but she j could not hide the little tremor In her j voice. The detective mused. "Fellow of good family, I understand," under-stand," he said, eyeing her. "Very popular. That's what's behind most of these bank embezzlements men getting Into society and spending more than they make." Dale hailed the tinkle of the city telephone with an Inward sigh of relief. re-lief. The detective moved to answer the house phone on the wall by the alcove mistaking the direction of the ring. Dale corrected him quickly. "No, the other one that's the house phone." Anderson looked the appaiatus over. "No connection with the outside, eh ?" "No," said Dale, absent-mindedly. "Just from room to room In the house." - He accepted her explanation and answered the other telephone. "Hello hello what the " He moved the receiver hook up and down, without result, and gave It up. "This line sounds dead," he said. "It was all right a few minutes ago," said Dale, without thinking. "You were using it a few minutes ago?" She hesitated what use to deny what she had already admitted, for all. practical purposes. "Yes." The city telephone rang again. The detective pounced upon it. "Hello yes yes this is Anderson go ahead." He paused, while the tiny voice In the receiver buzzed for some seconds. Then he interrupted It Impatiently. "You're sure of that, are you? I see. All right. 'By." He hung up the receiver and turned swiftly on Dale. "That was headquarters. Miss Ogden. Og-den. They have found some letters in Bailey's room which seem to Indicate that you were not telling the entire truth just now." He ' paused, waiting for her answer. an-swer. "What letters?" she said wearily. "From you to Jack Bailey showing show-ing that you had recently became engaged en-gaged to him." Dale decided to make a clean breast of it or as clean a one as she dared. "Very well," she said In an uneven voice, "that's true." "Why didn't you say so before?" There was menace beneath his suavity. suav-ity. He came closer to Dale, fixing her with his eyes. "Do you know where Bailey Is now?" He spoke slowly and menacingly. She did not flinch. "No." The detective paused. "Miss Ogden," he said, still witfc that hidden threat in his voice, "in the last minute or so the Union bank case and certain things in this houso have begun to tie up pretty close together. to-gether. Bailey disappeared this morning. morn-ing. Have you heard from him since?" Her eyes met his without weakening weaken-ing her voice was cool and composed. "No." The detective did not comment on her answer she could not tell from his face whether he thought she had told the truth or lied. He turned away from her brusquely. "I'll ask you to bring Miss Van Gorder Gor-der here," he said in his professional voice. "This case is taking on a new phase." "You don't think I know anything about that money?" she said, a little wildly, hoping that a display of sham anger might throw him off the trail he seemed to be following. He seemed to accept her words, cynically, at their face value. "No," he said, "hut you know somebody some-body who does." Dale hesitated sought for a biting retort found none. It did not matter any respite, no matter how momentary, momen-tary, from these probing questions, would be a relief. She silently took one of the lighted candles and left the living room to search for her aunt Left alone, the detective reflected tor a uiomciiL, iiicii in-miife one lighted candle that remained, commenced a systematic examination of the living room. His methods were thorough, but If, when he came to the end of his quest, he had made any new discoveries, the reticent composure compo-sure of his face did not betray tit fact. When he had finished he turntd patiently toward the billiard room the little flame of his candle wal swallowed up In its dark recesses In closed the door of th living room b hind him. The storm was dying away, now, but a few flashes of lightnlnj still' flickered, lighting up the dark, ness of the deserted living room now and then with a harsh, brief glare. A lightning (lash a shadow cast abruptly on the shade of one of thf French windows, to disappear as abruptly ab-ruptly as the flash was blotted out-the out-the shadow of a man a prowler-feeling prowler-feeling his way through the lightning slashed darkness to the terrace doc The detective? Brooks? The Bat' The lightning flash was too brief fol any observer to have recognized the stealing shape if any observer hac been there. But the lack of an observer was promptly remedied. Just as the shadowy shape reached the terrace aoor and its shadow-fingers closed over the knob, Lizzie entered the deserted de-serted living rcoin on stumbling feet She was carrying a tray of dishes and f00j a roll a butter pat and sh walked slowly, with terror only on leap behind her, and blank duxknesl ahead, (TO BE COSVUfUES.! ' |