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Show -rzrZSt GEOQ F. WORTS zJ.J tlio rtM mud. lie niimngrd to empty the bottle, mostly Into Ills mouth. Wlnthrop I, mining took It out of Ilia mini nnu'iii'od hands mid mild: "WhiM-e la Stove?" "Dond." Mr. Limning gncd lit l'li-ire unci said, "It must have boon n closo tliinff. W'lmt happened?" "lie was almost too quick for me," none answered. "Where did you leave him?" "In the mud otT this road n quarter quar-ter of a mile away." He sat down heavily In a chair and stared at Zorle. Her heart had, for a moment, mo-ment, stopped beating. She was sure that, In another Instant, she would full out of this chair, unconscious. "I let him think everything was all right, " Pierre said. "I told him nothing. I let him take me almost to the listening post." "Why?" "Why not? I've forgotten the lower part of the Kokee Road. I wanted to come here. I wanted company. When we got to the turn-olT, I had my automatic ready. I told him Just what his brother had said. I did not think he would move so Tlllt STOHV THl'S r.H: Torlo Corey, bo U tn lov with rant Uune.tn. la rail-rta1fd rail-rta1fd Info taking a Job she itin1 not want, holilut nllt the memoirs of hli iranttf.tthrr, Admiral. Pmu-an. Wlilld aboard ship hound for llnwnlt stie la thrown overboard, but la rescued, lie-fore lie-fore arriving at the Isle of Onlm. l'r.iil Harbor Is bombed. After lanillni. IMiil and Zorle overhear raid's handsome brother, Steve, with whom y.orle Is Infatuated, In-fatuated, iilottlni with Wlnthrop I.annlng to deliver Important radio equipment to the Axis. tlellevlng Steve in danger F.orle tries to rescue him, and runs across the body of Amber I.annlnf. Wlnthrop Wln-throp LannlnR Accuses her of the crime and drives her Into the mountains. CHAPTER XVII "All you have to go on Is what Paul said and he was maliciously lying! He hit on the simplest and surest way of destroying your faith In Steve. My whole argument. Mr. Lanning, Is that Paul Inadvertently tricked you into losing your nerve and that you've ruined your chance forever to secure for your principals princi-pals a weapon as vital as the famous fa-mous bombsightl" Mr. Lanning pushed himself away from the doorjamb. He walked slowly slow-ly toward her. "I wonder," he said, "if you're just being clever." "I've used nothing but plain, mid-western, mid-western, horse sense!" "Stop using It!" he snarled. "You don't honestly believe that Steve Is a traitor to his own country do you?" "Of course I do!" He started down the room again. He whirled on her. "What have you to gain by this? Is this what you're planning to say to Strom-berg Strom-berg to show me up?" "Would It save my life?" "It would notl Isn't that obvious?" obvi-ous?" "Yes, Mr. Lanning. Very obvious. obvi-ous. All I wanted was to make you see that Steve had not betrayed you." "But why?" he cried. "You are violently pro-American! You are a chauvinist! You have absolutely no sympathy for our cause! Why have you gone to such trouble to persuade me that Steve is loyal to Germany?" "Because," Zorie murmured, "In my heart, I believe it." Mr. Lanning bent suddenly over the table. His cheeks were puffed out. He blew a sharp breath into the lamp. The flame went out. With all that brandy in his system. Zorie reflected, it should have blown up. The blue beam of his pocket light was flickering around the room. Then she heard the sounds that tmil i H 1 1 1 h i k' Hail liny liiriinlni; nil' sniiill room was swlmmlnc Tin1 keroseiui lamp seemed to o dink, then lis llame heeiimo blight final"- She wait trying to reconcile her mind and her eniollon.H to these two fact.". that Steve was dead, and Unit he had not been a traitor. She saw, as Mr. I. aiming hail seen so clearly, that Steve's dangerous game had been an Ingenious hoax, the stile purpose pur-pose of which was to trap the leading Nazi In Hawaii. It lett her stunned and limp. She was vaguely aware that the two men were still quarreling, will) ono of them Insisting she was Ah-nahI!oland, Ah-nahI!oland, the other insisting she was not. She was vaguely aware that the rain had stopped. Water fell in short bright daggers from the eaves instead of in long wavering wires. A breeze sprang up nnd blew damply in her face. She felt cold nnd numb. A black tiling that she thought at first was a bat came floating in the window on limp black wings. It was followed by another and another. anoth-er. She realized they were .giant moths. One of them brushed her face. The great black wing was damp and cold. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came. The giant black moths fluttered aimlessly about the room. One of them, with slowly flapping wings, flew behind her. She was sure she felt It settle In her hair. She felt chills all through her body. Then she saw the centipede. It had evidently crawled out of the kitchen. She had never seen a centipede cen-tipede like It brown and shiny and fully eight inches long. It crawled along the other side of the room. It was so large, so monstrous mon-strous that she was sure she was imagining it. Then Mr. Lanning saw it. He cried: "Look at that thing! Pierre! Don't stamp on It! We must find a buffo! We must find a buffo, Pierre, and try an experiment!" "What is a buffo?" Pierre Inquired. In-quired. "A giant toad. The buffos were imported a few years ago to kill the insects that eat the cane. I've heard that a buffo will kill a centipede." He was panting. "Pierre! Fetch me a buffo! I want a buffo, at once! Take the flashlight. You'll find one easily on a night like this. They're swarming on a night like this!" Pierre's surly growl: "Not now." "Yes now! At once!" "But" "At once, I said!" "Very well, my friend. You shall have your buffo!" Zorie did not see him go, but she he had evidently heard. She heard, above the diminuendo of the rain, the sucking sounds of feet being pulled out of the mud. Then she heard a man's heavy breathing. In the darkness, Zorie held her breath. If it was Steve, he was saved! They would both be saved! Mr. Lanning had tiptoed out of the room. She heard his voice at the door, then another voice, but the words were unintelligible. Then Mr. Lanning said: "Come In here. There's someone here I want you to see." She heard the sound of mud-soaked mud-soaked shoes crossing the living-room. living-room. The bright blue spark of the pocket light returned. Someone struck a match. Mr. Lanning muttered mut-tered profanely as he touched the hot lamp chimney. Then the flame tcked up and steadied as he put the chimney in place. But she was staring at the doorway. door-way. She hardly recognized the man who stood there. One eye was closed and black. One cheek was swollen. Blood was leaking from one corner of the man's mouth. His scrubby red hair was so mixed with blood and purple-red mud that he looked as if he had been scalped. His shirt collar was gone. His white dinner jacket was coated with purple-red mud. The left leg of his black trousers was missing from the knee down, and the bare leg exposed was covered with mud. Only by his sloping powerful shoulders shoul-ders did she identify him as Pierre Savoyard. He was staring at her. He was leaning backward as if he would at any moment fall over. He licked his bleeding, swollen lips. "No!" he said softly. "It can't be!" N "What are you talking about, Pi erre?" Mr. Lanning inquired carelessly. care-lessly. "That girl!" Pierre's voice was a squeak. "I killed that girl with my own hands!" Winthrop Lanning shrugged. "And . before that, you drowned her." Pierre started toward the chair in which Zorie sat. "Keep away from her!" Mr. Lanning Lan-ning said sharply. "Don't touch her!" Pierre's big, hooked hands fell at his muddy sides. He swayed. "You made a mistake," Mr. Lanning Lan-ning explained. "It was Amber you killed." "Amber!" "Yes. But it's none of my affair any longer. You can answer to Mr. Stromberg. You are too Impetuous, Pierre. I am afraid that Mr. Stromberg Strom-berg will not be at all pleased with you. Here. Drink some of this. You need it." Pierre took the brandy bottle. His hand was shaking. Some of the brandy missed his mouth and ran down off his chin, with the blood and "No," he said softly. "It can't be." fast. He was on me before I could pull the trigger." "Wait a minute!" Mr. Lanning said sharply. "He jumped you the instant you told him that?" "He did. The car went down a bank and rolled over with us in it." "Wait a minute!" Mr. Lanning repeated. re-peated. "This is very interesting, Pierre. I want you to be very sure of this for a very particular reason. The instant you told him what his brother said without questioning you he jumped you?" "He did!" "This young lady," Winthrop Lanning Lan-ning said, "has just gone to the greatest pains to convince me that Steve is loyal to us." "She is a liar!" Pierre stated. "She is too clever for all of us. It's what I've been telling you. It's why I tried to drown her! It's why I wanted to kill her down below!" "Miss Corey . ." Mr. Lanning began. "Ah-nah Boland!" Pierre angrily corrected him. "Very well. Go on. What happened hap-pened then?" "We got out of the car. I lost my automatic in the mud there. I don't know how long we fought. Sometimes I thought he had me. It was raining. The headlights went out when we rolled down the bank. It was black. I killed him. He is back there in the mud by the ear." "Are you sure you killed him?" Pierre Savoyard lifted his heavy, sloping shoulders and let them fall. "Is there any question about it?" "Miss Corey," Winthrop Lanning said gently, "I am really very sorry for your sake. And you did have me completely convinced!" Pierre started up from his chair. He said harshly, "This woman is Ah-nah Boland!" "Pierre," Lanning said patiently, "once again if this woman were Anna Boland, would Steve Duncan have been so stupid as to exhibit her so openly?" "Steve Duncan," Pierre answered, "was banking on us believing that she was dead. She is not dead. She is sitting in that chair." "Sit down!" Lanning said sharply. "But why is she sitting in that chair alive?" "Mr. Stromberg will attend to her." "This place," Pierre said, "is dangerous. dan-gerous. What time is it?" "Two thirty-five." "How will we get off this island? How will we get out of Hawaii?" "Mr. Stromberg will arrange everything." ev-erything." "He will not like it," Pierre said ominously, "finding Ah-nah Boland here." "See if you can find a bottle of brandy in the kitchen." Zorie hardly heard his voice. She was still so close to unconsciousness heard the door slam. The pungent mouldy smell she had been noticing seemed stronger. Mr. Lanning came over to her. He was no longer walking steadily. "Miss Corey," he said, "you are so lovely, so innocent and so clever and I am so sorry." Zorie closed her eyes. "It is very curious," he said. "Do you smell that? It's sour honey. It's in these walls. The wild bees find little holes in the outside walls and crawl inside and build their combs and fill them with honey and then it goes sour. And there's no way to get it out unless you tear the house down! Men are sometimes very foolish, fool-ish, aren't they? I am referring to love, my dear . . . men so often tear their houses down for a little sour honey." "Here is your buffo," said Pierre's soft, low voice. Zorie opened her eyes again. Pierre Pi-erre had a huge gray toad in one hand, a long stick in the other. He put the toad on the floor and pushed the centipede toward the toad. It was the largest' toad Zorie had ever seen. It squatted, with its head up, its little reptilian eyes blinking in the soft yellow light. It must have measured fully seven inches across and it must, as it squatted, have measured fully six inches in height. Zorie closed her eyes upon a brain that was slowly reeling with sickness. sick-ness. When she opened them, the centipede was crawling over the buffo, buf-fo, and the buffo seemed unaware of it. The centipede crawled over the toad's reptilian gray face. When it was crawling over the buffo's mouth, the mouth opened. The buffo gulped a fold of the centipede into its mouth. Slowly, the struggling centipede vanished into the toad. Zorle wanted to scream, but she hadn't the strength to scream. Mr. Lanning was pounding on the table with a bottle. "They eat them!" he cried. "They really do!" Zorie now saw the long knife open in Pierre's hand. She saw the flick of the knife as it flew from his hand to the floor. Its sharp point was imbedded in the floor an inch from the buffo. The buffo jumped. Pierre kicked 'it across the room and into the kitchen and out the back door. He returned and stopped before Zorie. His blood-and-mud-smeared face came close to hers. "Ah-nah!" he said in his soft, low voice. "Ah-nah!" "Ah-nah!" She shrank back. And she knew in that moment the feeling of full hatred. She had once thought she had hated Amber. But her dislike of that arrogant girl had been the most tepid of emotions compared to the fury she experienced when this man put his swollen filthy face so close to hers. (TO BE CONTINUED) |