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Show JIpEUWffl'SPY g ffiTM ay Sylvia Taylor i THE STORY SO FAR: In love with Karl Miller, her handsome night club employer, Joan Leland, secretary, refuses re-fuses to listen to her older sister, Sybil, with whom she shares an apartment, or to Paul Sherman, his manager. Karl tells her they cannot be married (or months and sends her on mysterious trips with letters. Be shoots his business busi-ness partner, Eric Strom, In Joan's presence, then tricks ber Into putting her finger-prints on the gun. He then threatens threat-ens her with a murder charge, unless she remains silent and continues to work lor him. He also admits he is a German citizen, part of a spy ring and that he has a wife In Germany. Paul Sherman reveals to Joan he Is an FBI agent, working under-cover to trap the higher-ops higher-ops in a spy ring and asks her help. She agrees and when Sybil is found missing they suspect she is being held as a hostage. Later police find her clothes and a suicide note near a bridge. Karl bires a new beautiful girl singer, and Joan Is disgusted with herself when she sees the new girl falling for the same game. She visits Mrs. Murdock, proprietor propri-etor of the beauty shop where Sybil got a Job through Karl's influence. Now continue with the story. When she saw Paul, she gave a little cry, "Paul!" and the color drained from her face. CHAPTER XII "I know you'll excuse me," Mrs. Murdock explained, "but I'm frightfully fright-fully busy. It was nice of you to come. I hope you'll be a regular customer." Joan replied courteously "and left feeling that her visit had been a failure. She stopped at a drugstore for a sandwich and a cup of co ee. It was all the dinner she would have time for tonight. She was staring 1-nin the hrnad mirror behind the looked from Paul to Joan. "By the way, what are you doing here? I thought you were in Washington." Paul's face was serious. "I am not working for the government any longer," he said, with a warning glance at Joan. "I am Karl Miller's Mil-ler's manager." "Why, Paul O'Malley!" As Joan and Paul exchanged elances. she realized that Pat must "I was on my way back to work when I saw him standing in front of a shop with this woman. He was smiling and holding her hand." "Young or old?" Paul asked carelessly, care-lessly, i "She was about Karl's age. Rather Rath-er hard-looking, with black hair. She wore beautiful furs. Karl was smiling at her ..." Joan drew in her breath. Mrs. fountain when she saw Pat Hines. The girl did not reply. "Pat!" Joan said. The girl smiled then and came towards to-wards her. "Oh, Miss Leland, I'm glad to see you. I thought I'd have a cup of coffee before I went to the club. I'm too nervous to eat. This is my first night, you know." As Joan watched Pat sipping her coffee, she had an idea. Perhaps she should have asked Paul first, but there was no time for that, so on the strength of her impulse she said, "Where are you staying?" . Pat smiled. "At the Y.W.C.A. I didn't have much money." be told something about this strange situation. Paul was speaking nervously. "Listen carefully, Pat! You know when I worked for the government, there were a lot of people who had reason to dislike me." Pat's brown eyes, so like her brother's, widened, as she asked, "Well?" "So I'm using another name. I am known here as Paul Sherman." Pat shrugged. "You're a fine one to scold me," she said crossly. "Go to bed," Paul ordered. "I want to talk to Joan." Reluctantly Patricia obeyed, clos- Murdock! When Joan and Paul were driving back to the club, she asked, "Do you think it means anything? Karl and Mrs. Murdock?" "There's some connection. I've suspected it for some time. Look at this! He indicated a copy of the morning paper that lay on the seat beside him. "Mysterious explosion in aviation plant," Joan read. "And there's more to it than that," Paul went on. "I have just learned that the plans for a new bombing plane for the government govern-ment have been stolen. Last night Karl sent a telegram to a hotel in that same city. He used another name. The telegram in itself was innocent enough. Probably in code. I feel sure he's connected with the stolen plans; also this Murdock woman. wom-an. The fact that Pat saw them together to-gether and that they were so obviously obvi-ously pleased about something might be an indication of it." In the office, Joan watched Karl carefully, but she could learn nothing noth-ing from his attitude except that he seemed extraordinarily cheerful. She had noticed that Karl seemed to delight de-light in trying to make her jealous of Pat. ing the bedroom door behind her. Obviously she had no idea of the havoc her appearance had caused. Paul spoke in a low, distressed voice. "This is a fine mess." "Can't you make her go home?" "She wouldn't do it. We O'Mal-leys O'Mal-leys are like that. Besides, she'd tell Karl and the whole game would be up. My job has to come first. This business is more important even than my own sister." Joan put a gentle hand upon his arm. "I know how you feel," she comforted. "But since Pat is living with me, I may be able to protect her." "How would you like to share my apartment?" "Oh, I'd love to! And," she added childishly, "I'll have plenty of money mon-ey now. Mr. Miller is paying me fifty dollars a week." "Yes, I know," Joan said, thinking think-ing how furious Karl would be when he found out that his new discovery was living with his secretary. But this arrangement might permit Joan to keep an eye on Patricia. Perhaps she could warn her against becoming becom-ing too involved with Karl. Paul did not make an appearance for two days during which time Pat was installed in Joan's apartment. ' Joan's heart ached to see her in Sybil's Syb-il's place, yet the girl would be a comfort to her. It would take her mind off her own troubles. It was almost one o'clock in the morning when Pat and Joan arrived at the apartment. Karl had driven them from the club. He made no comment upon the arrangement, though Joan could see that he was not pleased. "Karl," Pat confided later, "is the most wonderful man I've ever met. ' He's different from other men. There's something about him . . ." "Don't you think he's a little old for you?" Joan asked, remembering that Sybil once had said the same thing to her. "Old?" Pat's delicate eyebrows shot up. "Oh, older men are so much more interesting. Don't you think so?" Joan sighed. What could she do It was surprising how little she cared. Sybil's disappearance had wiped out all romantic illusions. Life was a serious struggle, not a romantic ro-mantic dream. Every minute Sybil's Syb-il's life was in danger. Every move Karl made might prove to be a clue to her sister's whereabouts. Joan worked feverishly throughout through-out the evening. When Paul Sherman Sher-man came in suddenly a few minutes min-utes later, she was so startled that she half rose from her chair. He shut the door noiselessly behind be-hind him. "What time will you be ready to leave?" "In about an hour." Her tone matched his own. She knew that something had happened. "I'll be back for you then." He came quite close and said with a grim smile. "Tonight's the night! We're going to raid the beauty shop." . ''We must get this business finished fin-ished up quickly before Karl has a chance to pull anything." "Then we won't tell Pat anything?" any-thing?" "No! And tomorrow I want you to make it plain that she is not to reveal re-veal my identity. She must understand under-stand that it is very necessary for me to use another name." Joan was more convinced than ever of Karl's power by the many complications which seemed to be closing in about them. "I'm afraid, Paul! This can't end . . . except with more trouble." "You're right, Joan. We've got to be very careful, but I think the whole thing's going to blow up soon. So be on your guard." "Do you know anything?" Joan pleaded. "Can't say yet," Paul said abruptly- Twn weeks Dassed. Fearful weeks to save this girl? She was sure that Pat Hines had never sung in a night club before. She was not a professional and sooner or later she would And herself involved too deeply to get out. When the doorbell rang both girls were in bed. Joan switched on the light and, fastening a robe about her, went into the living room, calling. "Who's there?" It was Paul. "Let me in, Joan! Quick." Joan unlocked the door. Paul stepped in and demanded, "Where is she?" But Pat had already risen and was standing wide-eyed in the bedroom bed-room door. When she saw Paul, she gave a little cry, "Paul!" and the color drained from her face. Paul looked angry. "What in the of watching and waiting for Joan and Paul. Happy weeks for Pat who bloomed under the influence of her romance with Karl Miller. A romance which it seemed impossible to stop. Pat would not listen to anything any-thing against Karl. She sang his praises day and night, yet so far as Joan could discover Karl had not used her services in connection with the spy ring. And Pat had accepted their explanation about her brother's broth-er's identity and promised not to reveal it, even to Karl. Then one day in mid-January an unexpected clue came. Paul had arrived ar-rived at the apartment to drive Joan to work. Pat had just risen and was eating her breakfast in the kitchen. Her brown eyes were clouded. cloud-ed. She had scarcely spoken to Joan. "Something is wrong with Pat," It was five minutes after twelve when Paul returned to Karl's office of-fice for Joan. She was ready, standing by the door in her hat and coat. "Karl has taken Pat dancing," he said. "I followed Mrs. Murdock home, so she's out of the way. We should be able to find out something." some-thing." When he finally parked in an alley al-ley near the beauty shop, the street was deserted and no one saw them as they walked swiftly. "How will we get in?" Joan inquired in-quired as they reached the, door. "That is simple enough," Paul said, taking a key from his pocket ' and opening the door. His flashlight made a path for them through the front of the shop down the hall to Mrs. Murdock's private office. Paul opened the door Joan confided to Paul. "Maybe you can find out what it is." Paul went into the kitchen. "Hello, "Hel-lo, youngster, how's everything?" "Fine," Pat said briefly. "Look here, honey, if something is troubling you, why not tell me?" "Because you can't help me no one can." Joan stood in the doorway regarding re-garding her with pity. "Maybe I could, if you would trust me." Pat was silent for a moment, then she burst cut. "It's Karl!" "Karl? What about him?" Paul demanded. "I'm in love with him." Pat confessed. con-fessed. There were tears in Joan s eyes. She could not bear the pain in this girl's face. She knew only too well what her young heart was suilcnng "L:ist night." Pat continued. "1 saw him with another woman." Jean smiled with relief, but Paul inquired. "What did she loos like? Where were they?" world are you doing here. Pat?" The three of them stood in the living liv-ing room staring at one another. Joan switched on the lights, revealing reveal-ing the strain on each face. "What is it, Paul?" she asked. "Pat happens to be my sister." "But she told me her name was Hines!" Joan cried. "She said she lived in Los Angeles." Paul laughed shortly. "Her name Is Patricia O'Malley and she's from Brooklyn, New York. How she ever got to California I wouldn't know. She's seventeen and she has never sung in a night club or anywhere else in public in her life." Pat took his arm and looked pleadingly into his (ace. "Oh Paul. I've always wanted to sing. I wanted want-ed to have an exciting life, some-tiling some-tiling different! 1 ran away from home, but I wrote, to mother last night and told her that I was safe and had a good job. And now that you're in San Francisco she won't worry about me." She paused and softly. He tapped the walls softly. "There is probably another room opening off this one." His fingers beat a tattoo tat-too against the wood as be moved slowly around the wall. "There it is!'1 he said, quietly, and even Joan could detect a hollow sound as his knuckles rapped on the panel. She stood close behind him, apprehensive ap-prehensive as his hands silently explored ex-plored it. "There should be a button but-ton here." he said, frowning. "Wait here it is." A piece of casing cas-ing slid from its place, revealing a small iron switch. At the pressure of Paul's finger the panel began to swing aside. Joan gasped as she watched it move, with its strange grating noise It swung around to reveal a small room enveloped in darkness. Paul's flashlight played into the dark. "There doesn't seem to bt any Ught switch in here . . Wait a I minute! Here's a lamp." ITO BE COST1MEDJ |