Exploits Of Elaine — The Death Ray
THE DEATH RAY
Kennedy was reading a scientific treatise one morning, while I was banging on the typewriter, when a knock at the laboratory door disturbed us.
By some intuition, Craig seemed to know who it was.
He sprang to open the door, and there stood Elaine Dodge and her lawyer, Perry Bennett.
Instantly, Craig read from the startled look on Elaine's face that something dreadful had happened.
"Why--what's the matter?"
he asked, solicitously.
"A--another letter--from the Clutching Hand!"
she exclaimed breathlessly.
"Mr. Bennett was calling on me, when this note was brought in.
We both thought we'd better see you at once about it and he was kind enough to drive me here right away in his car."
Craig took the letter and we both read, with amazement: "Are you an enemy of society?
If not, order Craig Kennedy to leave the country by nine o'clock to-morrow morning.
Otherwise, a pedestrian will drop dead outside his laboratory every hour until he leaves."
The note was signed by the now familiar sinister hand, and had, added, a postscript, which read: "As a token of his leaving, have him place a vase of flowers on his laboratory window to-day."
"What shall we do?"
queried Bennett, evidently very much alarmed at the threat.
"Do?"
replied Kennedy, laughing contemptuously at the apparently futile threat, "why, nothing.
Just wait."
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The day proved uneventful and I paid no further attention to the warning letter.
It seemed too preposterous to amount to anything.
Kennedy, however, with his characteristic foresight, as I learned afterwards, had not been entirely unprepared, though he had affected to treat the thing with contempt.
His laboratory, I may say, was at the very edge of the University buildings, with the campus back of it, but opening on the other side on a street that was ordinarily not overcrowded.
We got up as usual the next day and, quite early, went over to the laboratory.
Kennedy, as was his custom, plunged straightway into his work and appeared absorbed by it, while I wrote.
"There IS something queer going on, Walter," he remarked.
"This thing registers some kind of wireless rays--infra-red, I think,--something like those that they say that Italian scientist, Ulivi, claims he has discovered and called the 'F-rays.'
" "How do you know?"
I asked, looking up from my work.
"What's that instrument you are using?"
"A bolometer, invented by the late Professor Langley," he replied, his attention riveted on it.
Some time previously, Kennedy had had installed on the window ledge one of those mirror-like arrangements, known as a "busybody," which show those in a room what is going on on the street.
As I moved over to look at the bolometer, I happened to glance into the busybody and saw that a crowd was rapidly collecting on the sidewalk.
"Look, Craig!"
I called hastily.
He hurried over to me and looked.
We could both see in the busybody mirror a group of excited passersby bending over a man lying prostrate on the sidewalk.
He had evidently been standing on the curbstone outside the laboratory and had suddenly put his hand to his forehead.
Then he had literally crumpled up into a heap, as he sank to the ground.
The excited crowd lifted him up and bore him away, and I turned in surprise to Craig.
He was looking at his watch.
It was now only a few moments past nine o'clock!
Not quarter of an hour later, our door was excitedly flung open and Elaine and Perry Bennett arrived.
"I've just heard of the accident," she cried, fearfully.
"Isn't it terrible.
What had we better do?"
For a few moments no one said a word.
Then Kennedy began carefully examining the bolometer and some other recording instruments he had, while the rest of us watched, fascinated.
Somehow that "busybody" seemed to attract me.
I could not resist looking into it from time to time as Kennedy worked.
I was scarcely able to control my excitement when, again, I saw the same scene enacted on the sidewalk before the laboratory.
Hurriedly I looked at my watch.
It was ten o'clock!
"Craig!"
I cried.
"Another!"
Instantly he was at my side, gazing eagerly.
There was a second innocent pedestrian lying on the sidewalk while a crowd, almost panic-stricken, gathered about him.
We watched, almost stunned by the suddenness of the thing, until finally, without a word, Kennedy turned away, his face set in tense lines.
"It's no use," he muttered, as we gathered about him.
"We're beaten.
I
can't stand this sort of thing.
I will leave to-morrow for South America."
I thought Elaine Dodge would faint at the shock of his words coming so soon after the terrible occurrence outside.
She looked at him, speechless.
It happened that Kennedy had some artificial flowers on a stand, which he had been using long before in the study of synthetic coloring materials.
Before Elaine could recover her tongue, he seized them and stuck them into a tall beaker, like a vase.
Then he deliberately walked to the window and placed the beaker on the ledge in a most prominent position.
Elaine and Bennett, to say nothing of myself, gazed at him, awe-struck.
"Is--is there no other way but to surrender?"
she asked.
Kennedy mournfully shook his head.
"I'm afraid not," he answered slowly.
"There's no telling how far a fellow who has this marvellous power might go.
I think I'd better leave to save you.
He may not content himself with innocent outsiders always."
Nothing that any of us could say, not even the pleadings of Elaine herself could move him.
The thought that at eleven o'clock a third innocent passerby might lie stricken on the street seemed to move him powerfully.
When, at eleven, nothing happened as it had at the other two hours, he was even more confirmed in his purpose.
Entreaties had no effect, and late in the morning, he succeeded in convincing us all that his purpose was irrevocable.
As we stood at the door, mournfully bidding our visitors farewell until the morrow, when he had decided to sail, I could see that he was eager to be alone.
He had been looking now and then at the peculiar instrument which he had been studying earlier in the day and I could see on his face a sort of subtle intentness.
"I'm so sorry--Craig," murmured Elaine, choking back her emotion, and finding it impossible to go on.
"So am I, Elaine," he answered, tensely.
"But--perhaps--when this trouble blows over--" He paused, unable to speak, turned, and shook his head.
Then with a forced gaiety he bade Elaine and Perry Bennett adieu, saying that perhaps a trip might do him good.
They had scarcely gone out and Kennedy closed the door carefully, when he turned and went directly to the instrument which I had seen him observing so interestedly.
Plainly, I could see that it was registering something.
"What's the matter?"
I asked, non-plussed.
"Just a moment, Walter," he replied evasively, as if not quite sure of himself.
He walked fairly close to the window this time, keeping well out of the direct line of it, however, and there stood gazing out into the street.
A glint, as if of the sun shining on a pair of opera glasses could be seen from a window across the way.
"We are being watched," he said slowly, turning and looking at me fixedly, "but I don't dare investigate lest it cost the lives of more unfortunates."
He stood for a moment in deep thought.
Then he pulled out a suitcase and began silently to pack it.
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Although we had not dared to investigate, we knew that from a building, across the street, emissaries of the Clutching Hand were watching for our signal of surrender.
The fact was, as we found out later, that in a poorly furnished room, much after the fashion of that which, with the help of the authorities, we had once raided in the suburbs, there were at that moment two crooks.
One of them was the famous, or rather the infamous, Professor LeCroix, with whom in a disguise as a doctor we had already had some experience when he stole from the Hillside Sanitarium the twilight sleep drugs.
The other was the young secretary of the Clutching Hand who had given the warning at the suburban headquarters at the time when they were endeavoring to transfuse Elaine Dodge's blood to save the life of the crook whom she had shot.
This was the new headquarters of the master criminal, very carefully guarded.
"Look!"
cried LeCroix, very much elated at the effect that had been produced by his infra-red rays, "There is the sign--the vase of flowers.
We have got him this time!"
LeCroix gleefully patted a peculiar instrument beside him.
Apparently it was a combination of powerful electric arcs, the rays of which were shot through a funnel-like arrangement into a converter or, rather, a sort of concentration apparatus from which the dread power could be released through a tube-like affair at one end.
It was his infra-red heat wave, F-ray, engine.
"I told you--it would work!"
cried LeCroix.
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I did not argue any further with Craig about his sudden resolution to go away.
But it is a very solemn proceeding to pack up and admit defeat after such a brilliant succession of cases as had been his until we met this master criminal.
He was unshakeable, however, and the next morning we closed the laboratory and loaded our baggage, which was considerable, on a taxicab.
Neither of us said much, but I saw a quick look of appreciation on Craig's face as we pulled up at the wharf and saw that the Dodge car was already there.
He seemed deeply moved that Elaine should come at such an early hour to have a last word.
Our cab stopped and Kennedy moved over toward her car, directing two porters, whom I noticed that he chose with care, to wait at one side.
One of them was an old Irishman with a slight limp; the other a wiry Frenchman with a pointed beard.
In spite of her pleadings, however, Kennedy held to his purpose and, as we shook hands for the last time, I thought that Elaine would almost break down.
"Here, you fellows, now," directed Craig, turning brusquely to the porters, "hustle that baggage right aboard."
"Can't we go on the ship, too?"
asked Elaine, appealingly.
"I'm sorry--I'm afraid there isn't time," apologized Craig.
We finally tore ourselves away, followed by the porters carrying as much as they could.
"Bon voyage!"
cried Elaine, bravely keeping back a choke in her voice.
Near the gangplank, in the crowd, I noticed a couple of sinister faces watching the ship's officers and the passengers going aboard.
Kennedy's quick eye spotted them, too, but he did not show in any way that he noticed anything as, followed by our two porters, we quickly climbed the gangplank.
A moment Craig paused by the rail and waved to Elaine and Bennett who returned the salute feelingly.
I paused at the rail, too, speculating how we were to get the rest of our baggage aboard in time, for we had taken several minutes saying good-bye.
"In there," pointed Kennedy quickly to the porters, indicating our stateroom which was an outside room.
"Come, Walter."
I followed him in with a heavy heart.
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Outside could be seen the two sinister faces in the crowd watching intently, with eyes fixed on the stateroom.
Finally one of the crooks boarded the ship hastily, while the other watched the two porters come out of the stateroom and pause at the window, speaking back into the room as though answering commands.
Then the porters quickly ran along the deck and down the plank, to get the rest of the luggage.
As they approached the Dodge car, Elaine, Aunt Josephine and Perry Bennett were straining their eyes to catch a last glimpse of us.
The porters took a small but very heavy box and, lugging and tugging, hastened toward the boat with it.
But they were too late.
The gang plank was being hauled in.
They shouted, but the ship's officers waved them back.
"Too late!"
one of the deckhands shouted, a little pleased to see that someone would be inconvenienced for tardiness.
The porters argued.
But it was no use.
All they could do was to carry the box back to the Dodge car.
Miss Dodge was just getting in as they returned.
"What shall we do with this and the other stuff?"
asked the Irish porter.
She looked at the rest of the tagged luggage and the box which was marked: Scientific Instruments Valuable Handle with care.
"Here--pile them in here," she said indicating the taxicab.
"I'll take charge of them."
Meanwhile one of our sinister faced friends had just had time to regain the shore after following us aboard ship and strolling past the window of our stateroom.
He paused long enough to observe one of the occupants studying a map, while the other was opening a bag.
"They're gone!"
he said to the other as he rejoined him on the dock, giving a nod of his head and a jerk of his thumb at the ship.
"Yes," added the other crook, "and lost most of their baggage, too."
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Slowly the Dodge car proceeded through the streets up from the river front, followed by the taxicab, until at last the Dodge mansion, was reached.
There Elaine and Aunt Josephine got out and Bennett stood talking with them a moment.
Finally he excused himself reluctantly for it was now late, even for a lawyer, to get to his office.
As he hurried over to the subway, Elaine nodded to the porters in the taxicab, "Take that stuff in the house.
We'll have to send it by the next boat."
Then she followed Aunt Josephine while the porters unloaded the boxes and bags.
Elaine sighed moodily as she walked slowly in.
"Here, Marie," she cried petulantly to her maid, "take these wraps of mine."
Marie ventured no remark, but, like a good servant, took them.
A moment later Aunt Josephine left her and Elaine went into the library and over to a table.
She stood there an instant, then sank down into a chair, taking up Kennedy's picture and gazing at it with eyes filled by tears.
Just then Jennings came into the room, ushering the two porters laden with the boxes and bags.
"Where shall I have them put these things, Miss Elaine?"
he inquired.
"Oh--anywhere," she answered hurriedly, replacing the picture.
Jennings paused.
As he did so, one of the porters limped forward.
"I've a message for you, Miss," he said in a rich Irish brogue, with a look at Jennings, "to be delivered in private."
Elaine glanced at him surprised.
Then she nodded to Jennings who disappeared.
As he did so, the Irishman limped to the door and drew together the portieres.
Then he came back closer to Elaine.
A moment she looked at him, not quite knowing from his strange actions whether to call for help or not.
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At a motion from Kennedy, as he pulled off his wig, I pulled off the little false beard.
Elaine looked at us, transformed, startled.
"Wh--what--" she stammered.
"Oh--I'm--so--glad.
How--" Kennedy said nothing.
He was thoroughly enjoying her face.
"Don't you understand?"
I explained, laughing merrily.
"I admit that I didn't until that last minute in the stateroom on the boat when we didn't come back to wave a last good-bye.
But all the care that Craig took in selecting the porters was the result of work he did yesterday, and the insistence with which he chose our travelling clothes had a deep-laid purpose."
She said nothing, and I continued.
"The change was made quickly in the stateroom.
Kennedy's man threw on the coat and hat he wore, while Craig donned the rough clothes of the porter and added a limp and a wig.
The same sort of exchange of clothes was made by me and Craig clapped a Van Dyck beard on my chin."
"I--I'm so glad," she repeated.
"I didn't think you'd--" She cut the sentence short, remembering her eyes and the photograph as we entered, and a deep blush crimsoned her face.
"Mum's the word," cautioned Kennedy, "You must smuggle us out of the house, some way."
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Kennedy lost no time in confirming the suspicions of his bolometer as to the cause of the death of the two innocent victims of the machinations of the Clutching Hand.
Both of them, he had learned, had been removed to a nearby undertaking shop, awaiting the verdict of the coroner.
We sought out the shop and prevailed on the undertaker to let us see the bodies.
As Kennedy pulled down the shroud from the face of the first victim, he disclosed on his forehead a round dark spot about the size of a small coin.
Quickly, he moved to the next coffin and, uncovering the face, disclosed a similar mark.
"What is it?"
I asked, awestruck.
"Why," he said, "I've heard of a certain Viennese, one LeCroix I believe, who has discovered or perfected an infra-red ray instrument which shoots its power a great distance with extreme accuracy and leaves a mark like these."
"Is he in New York?"
I inquired anxiously.
"Yes, I believe he is."
Kennedy seemed indisposed to answer more until he knew more, and I saw that he would prefer not being questioned for the present.
We thanked the undertaker for his courtesy and went out.
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Meanwhile Elaine had called up Perry Bennett.
"Mr. Bennett," she exclaimed over the wire, "just guess who called on me?"
"Who?"
he answered, "I give it up."
"Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Jameson," she called back.
"Is that so?"
he returned.
"Isn't that fine?
I didn't think he was the kind to run away like that.
How did it happen?"
Elaine quickly told the story as I had told her.
Had she known it, however, Bennett's valet, Thomas, was at that very moment listening at the door, intensely interested.
As Bennett hung up the receiver, Thomas entered the room.
"If anyone calls me," ordered Bennett, "take the message, particularly if it is from Miss Dodge.
I must get downtown--and tell her after I finish my court work for the day I shall be right up."
"Yes sir," nodded the valet with a covert glance at his master.
Then, as Bennett left, he followed him to the door, paused, thought a moment, then, as though coming to a sudden decision, went out by an opposite door.
It was not long afterward that a knock sounded at the door of the new headquarters of the Clutching Hand.
LeCroix and the secretary were there, as well as a couple of others.
"The Chief!"
exclaimed one.
The secretary opened the door, and, sure enough, the Clutching Hand entered.
"Well, how did your infra-red rays work?"
he asked LeCroix.
"Fine."
"And they're gone?"
