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Show gsg?; ceatee $ worts ' llpfell r7- v W.N.U. RELEASE "-BKtfsSs2 THE STORY THUS FAR: Zorlc Corey, rho is In love with Paul Duncan, is railroaded rail-roaded Into taking a job sbc does not want, helping edit the memoirs of bis grandfather, Admiral Duncan. Aboard (hip bound for Hawaii sbc is thrown overboard, over-board, but is rescued. After landing, Paul and Zorle overhear Paul's brother, gtcve, with whom Zorie now Is in love, pjottlns with WInthrop Lanning. Bellev-jjjj Bellev-jjjj Steve to be in dancer, Zorie tries to rescue blm, but is captured by Lanning gad driven into the mountains, wbere she Is told she will not see the sunrise. Pierre, who threw Zorle overboard, arrive! ar-rive! at the cabin and wants her killed. Be tells of a death struggle with Steve, gad claims that Steve Is dead. CHAPTER XVIII "Keep away from that girl!" Mr. tanning shouted. Pierre sucked in hit breath ' through swollen wet lips and backed ' ' iwny from her. Zorle's hatred had, in a curious way, renewed her' strength. Her brain was clear again. She heard Cie soft patter of rain on the roof and the silver wires again dangled from the eaves. Then Mr. Stromberg walked into the room. He said vigorously, "What goes on here? Where is Steve Dun-I Dun-I can?" He saw Zorie. He said harshly: "What is this girl doing here?" I Pierre started to talk, but Mr. i Stromberg cut him short "Hend- I ley," he said, "what is the meaning of this?" Zorie looked about for another man, but Mr. Lanning answered. "I j will try to explain," he said. As he explained, Mr. Stromberg jrew more and more grim. If she could only hold Stromberg here ... If she could somehow hold them all here! Long before this, her disappearance from Ulu-wehl Ulu-wehl must have attracted attention. If the admiral had recalled how insistent Steve had been on having Basil Stromberg at the dinner party, par-ty, then he would have the key to the mystery. The admiral would first look for Mr. Stromberg at his plantation planta-tion house. Not finding him there, he would logically look for him here. And if his reasoning brought him here, it was safe to assume that he would bring help. Mr. Lanning was still lucidly ex-. ex-. plaining. "Why," Mr. Stromberg broke in, "did you leave that car in front of this house?" "I'll move it," Mr. Lanning said hastily. "1 attended to it You have been very careless, Hendley. Savoyard, why weren't you on watch? An army could have marched in here! You - two have placed me in an extremely etnbarrassing position. You will have to get off this island at once. I will give you the address of a 1 Japanese agent in Waimea. He will attend to everything." "Come along, Pierre," Mr. Lan- nlng said. "Wait a moment," said Mr. Stromberg. "We have something to lettle. Hendley, go out there and watch at that window." He turned """ back to Zorie. He shook his head - ikmly. "Why," he asked her, "does to innocent little thing like you have to get mixed up in an unholy mess hke this?" She shrugged. "Why not say the jji fortunes of war?" she answered. 1 That's what I usually say when I Jet into these tight corners." Mr. Stromberg was staring at her. ."What do you mean?" "You might ask Pierre." "Pierre?" He whirled around. "She is Ah-nah Boland!" "That's ridiculous!" Mr. Stromberg Strom-berg said. "It's . . ." he stopped. 2e turned back to Zorie. She tilted her head a little. She fcas trying to handle the situation as Dightly and as boldly as she believed tana Boland would have handled it. "You can't possibly be Anna Bo-. Bo-. and," Easil Stromberg declared. P "Anna Boland was shot by a firing .piuad in Berlin six months ago!" "Maybe," Pierre said. "And four eights ago. I threw her oft the 'Sa-a,' 'Sa-a,' into the propellers and Irowned her!" "But I was not shot in Berlin. j if you will look closely, Mr. 00 -fromberg," Zorie said demurely, you will see that you have bagged gather a rare specimen." 01 "Jhis girl is lying," Mr. Lanning 0 oke in. "Her resemblance to Anna -eland is what precipitated all this ij rouble. It's nothing but an amaz- incidence. Until the past fort. got, she spent her whole life in little Middle Western college -wn of Elleryton " That is really so amusing," Zor- J-n,,aid with a soft- mtle Iaufih-Wy1 Iaufih-Wy1 rdioed Berlin, Mr. Strom- W What did Berlin say, Mr. panning? 'Perhaps it was Anna Bo- fC anas double that we shot.' They W adled Elleryton, where I've been awe or less hiding 6ince j got out Lii I , ermany, and Elleryton reported t J . V1 am too smart and a very y jPlcioui character." I -i Stromo"gs steel-blue eyes ? I 2w?0W very narrow and alert J . is rnost interesting," he said. fjp M you really are Anna Boland." tf'l t i" said Z0- "l really am J Boland." U$ JepuUed a chair toward her and SilVj, idown facing her. I must confess 1 have always UV S a7 curious ab0t you. Miss I ' VIS I..am r?aUy locked." And I," Zorie answered, at if she were amused, "have been rather curious about you, Mr. Stromberg. I have the greatest respect and admiration ad-miration for the work you've been doing here in Hawaii. You are not on my side but I always admire brilliant work." Mr. Stromberg smiled. His face became red. "This girl . . ." Mr. Lanning began. be-gan. "Hendley," Mr. Stromberg said impatiently, "I told you to go out and watch at that window." Mr. Lanning shrugged and walked out of the room. "I am most curious to know how you escaped from the firing squad," said Mr. Stromberg. "But Mr. Stromberg, is it customary cus-tomary for you to subject your guests to such indignities? Am I a wild beast that might spring on you three powerful men and destroy you?" "I am so sorry. Miss Boland! Pierre! Pi-erre! Untie Miss Boland's hands and feet at once!" Pierre severed the cords that bound her feet, then the cords that bound her wrists. Her legs were numb to the knees, and her arms were numb to her shoulders. Pierre took her hands from behind her. They hung down limp, blue-white and useless. The dawn was growing brighter. The prickling sensation had reached her wrists and ankles, was begin- A man appeared. He came lurching lurch-ing in the doorway. ning to enter her hands and feet. She tried to lift her hands, but she could not. "Will you tell me," Mr. Stromberg asked, "how you got out of Oslo in January, 1941?" "There again," Zorie answered, "you are embarrassing me. To answer an-swer that question, I would implicate impli-cate innocent people." He studied her. The prickling was extending into Zorie's hands and fingers. She tried to lift her hands into her lap. She succeeded, but the pain almost made her cry out. "Ask her," Mr. Lanning's voice came from the living-room, "any question in German or French. Mr. Stromberg. Anna Boland. you'll recall, re-call, spoke nearly every European tongue." "But this girl" "Ask her! I insist this girl is not Anna Boland, Mr. Stromberg. I insist in-sist she is making a fool of you." Mr. Stromberg got up. His large, handsome face was suddenly red. "Very well." he said quietly. He spoke rapidly to Zorie in German. He said, in English, "Please answer that question in either German or French, Miss Boland." "But this is so childish!" Zorie cried. It was no use. In the silence, she would have heard a car if it had been a mile away. No car was coming.. It was obvious that Paul and the admiral had not followed the line of reasoning she had hoped they would. Mr. Stromberg got up and went , to the doorway. He turned and looked at her. "Whoever you are," he said, "I am awfully sorry for you. Pierre, come along!" "And leave her here in this cabin?" cab-in?" Pierre protested. "Come with me." The two men went into the other room and joined Mr. Lanning. Their voices, so low she could hardly hear them, came to Zorie, They were, of course, discussing her, deciding her fate. She knew that Mr. Lanning Lan-ning was sorry for her, and she believed be-lieved that their better natures would have little weight in their decision. de-cision. They dared not keep her a prisoner indefinitely. They dared not set her free. They must give Pierre the order to dispose of her. They had no choice! She tried to rub her hands to-gether. to-gether. Sensation was returning to them, but It took the form of an agonizing ag-onizing ache. She tried to stand up. There were sharp cramping pains in her feet now. Her ankles would not support her. If she could stand up, she could crawl through the window. She could crawl away and hide somewhere. some-where. It was her only chance. She made another effort at getting up. Her legs gave way. When she tried to grasp the seat of the chair and push herself up, her .hands slipped off. They had no strength. Flashes of pain went through them. Panting, she rested a moment. The three men were arguing. Zorie saw the kitchen door slowly opening. She thought it was being blown open by the wind, but there was no wind. A man appeared. He came lurching lurch-ing into the doorway. A knifelike pain seemed to twist her heart The man stood, swaying, with his head sagging. His head, his face, his clothing were a mass of shining purple-red mud. What she could see of his face, under the mud, was battered almost beyond recognition. Blood and mud were indistinguishably intermingled. in-termingled. Zorie stopped the scream as it rose in her throat She whispered: "Steve! Steve!" He carried in one hand two metal objects so covered with red mud that it was hard to recognize them. He stared at her blearily. She realized that he was so groggy he could hardly stand. He must have been lying half conscious in mud alj this time. He must have called on superhuman effort to keep this appointment ap-pointment with Basil Stromberg. He stood, swaying drunkenly, staring star-ing at Zorie out of bloodshot, blurred blue eyes. With his head sagging, his arms limply beside him, his whole body caked with mud, he was even more frightening than Pierre had been. Steve Duncan came lurching toward to-ward her. He moved as deliberately, deliberate-ly, as stiffly, as clumsily as a robot He paused beside her- and peered into her shocked white face. He dropped one of the revolvers or pistols pis-tols into her lap. In a strange, rumbling voice, he said: "Use this, baby." Her relief was so great that a spasm of hysteria shot through her. He staggered drunkenly past her and into the living-room. A sense of warmth and strength flowed magically mag-ically into her. Steve Duncan was, suddenly, more than a man that she loved. He was Man the un-defeatable. un-defeatable. Beaten and battered and left for dead in the red mud, he had made himself get up and come here. She thought: "We'll probably not get out of this alive, but I've seen the most glorious thing in my life. I've seen a man who was beaten to death refuse to accept it. I've seen a man prove that mankind can't be beaten down!" The man was in the next room, saying in his strange, rumbling, unearthly un-earthly voice: "Hands up all of you!" There was a sudden, short silence. It was followed by an outburst of sound. A gun went off. There were other sounds. Zorie was trying to pick up the revolver or the pistol in her lap. But her hands were useless. She thought of what Steve had done the agonies he must have gone through to get here. She tried to stand up. There occurred, oc-curred, in the next room, a splintering splinter-ing sound, and a thump, as a door burst open. She saw them from the window. There were three of them Steve. Pierre and Mr. Lanning, all locked together, a straining mass of muddy men. Their feet slid about in the red mud. With a superhuman effort she picked up the gun in her lap. It slid out of her hand. She reached down for a handful of her sun-pleated sun-pleated evening dress. She tried to swab the mud off the gun. She watched the fighting men. She wondered where Basil Stromberg was. The three men were still locked together, floundering about in the mud, with Pierre and Mr, Lanning striking at Steve. There was a revolver re-volver in Mr. Lanning's right hand. Steve's hand was closed tigb Ay about Mr. Lanning's wrist. His hand holding the revolver was above his head and the revolver was pointing to the sky. Pierre stepped away. He reached up for' the revolver and pulled it out of Mr. Lanning's hand. Then he stepped back. He started to circle about them. Mr. Lanning had one arm about Steve's neck. With the hand that i had been holding the revolver, he swung repeatedly at Steve's face. They spun about in the mud. Zorle found herself on her feel with the automatic pistol in hei hand. She did not know how she had got to her feet, or how her hand had acquired the strength to grasp the pistol. She moved with dragging steps toward the living-room. She passed through the doorway. She saw Mr. Stromberg lying near the front doot on his back, with one arm throwa over his eyes. (TO BE CONTINUED) |