JOHN LYON, DETECTIVE.

King Country Chronicle, Volume V, Issue 384, 5 August 1911, Page 2

JOHN LYON, DETECTIVE.

?'Copy right.

Being a Strange Chronicle from the Note-book of John Lyon, Elucidator, Known as the " Lion of the Law."

By the Author of " The Castle Mystery," etc., etc.

PART 4. These last words were spoken as if he were addressing some powerful contingent of followers outside the building. His words were not without effect. " Don't fire," cried Bantry, "we surrender." At the same time he drew further back from the line of revolvers, as if not at all certain that his words would he taken.

" Don't fire," he repeated. " For mercy's sake, don't fire." Further back he went, Clanch and the other looked for all the world like trembling cowards. It looked like cowardice, perhaps it actually was so ; at all events it threw Lyon completely off his guard. The three men by this time had their backs to the wall, the fourth was still lying where he had fallen. And then a strange thing happened. " Look out !" erred Bookmonger. " They'll escape !"

" Too late !" shouted Bantry and

disappeared through a small doorway.

The other two were after him like a. shot from a gun.

Lyon, Lesage, and Bookmonger followed. Lesage and the late prisoner, starting from different angles, collid--2d and fell. Lyon dashed on and managed to dart through the door. But the nest second it was hanged behind him and bolted, the revolvers were torn from his grasp, and he felt one of them screwed against his temple.

" Keep still, or I fire," came the tone of Bantry's voice.

CHAPTER VI, DECOYED!

It all happened in a second or two. a miscalculation, and in payment for his blunder had put himself into the hands of his enemies, men as cruel as they were relentless.

Almost before he knew it he was bound and gagged. It was small comfort indeed to him that upon the other side of the iron door'were Lesage and Bookmonger. The door was a stout one, and could easily resist the assault of twenty men, let alone two.

But he was not allowed long ir doubt, as to whether the two mer would attempt to force the door, or try to get around some other way, for Clanch's voice broke in :

" They're coming round by the steam-engines." " Upstairs, then," commanded Ban-

try. Lyon decided to make a fight for it. They should never drag him away. If help were coming he must remain near the iron door at any cost.

But his fight was only 1 a short one. Bound and gagged as he was, how could he expect to hold out against three men whose muscles and sinews were like steel ? In spite of his protests he was lifted off his feet and dragged up a flight of stairs. Scarcely had they reached the floor above when Lyon heard the unmistakable sounds of two men w T alking about and speaking in whispers in the room they had just left. A nearer sound smote on his ears, a more terrible sound —the slight clicking of one revolver against another, as if Bantry and his comrades were carelessly holding the fatal weapons, making ready to use them at a minute's notice. He felt that he would at that time have given anything for power to ;ry out to warn the two young men Df their danger. But his mouth was gagged. His feet were, however, free !

Happy thought. With a suddenness that was entirely unexpected he brought down his foot bang, bang on the floor of the room.

The whispering in the room below ceased" as if by magic. At the same moment Lyon was laid full length on the floor by a well-directed blow, and before he could realize what was happening his legs were securely bound together. Almost at the same moment one of the men whispered a few words in Bantry's ear. " Splendid !" whispered' Bantry, in reply.

Then began a strange journey. The three men, between them sometimes dragging, sometimes carrying the prisoner, wandered on what seemed an almost interminable length o! rooms and sheds and then down a few steps and into a good-si;zed, rough-looking office. The light was switched on as they entered, and Lyon saw that only Clanch and Bantry were with him.

Then the gag was torn from his mouth.

" Now," began Bantrj. " let iu begin to understand each other. You are John Lyon, the detective. By what right are you here ?" "If you will remember," replied Lyon, speaking to save time, " Mr. Haskins gave me authority this morning." " To Mr. Rhodes, the contractor.' " Regard me then, as Mr. Rhodes,' said Lyon, blandly. " I regard you as what you are," replied Bantry, savagely ; " you are John Lyon, interfering busybody and you've struck your last job." " Indeed !"

" Yes, jou may well say, ' Indeed

■■ ivj.r. joancry,-- ne said, " aren't you a fool ? You don't suppose, whatever happens to me that you are going to carry your little plan through. There are others behind me."

" That imaginary band of police you called to in the hammer-shed just now ?" sneered Bantrr-

" And others," replied Lyon calmly. " Now, listen to mo. So far nc harm has been done, but you arc ir a forlorn hope of a game. To begin the documents you hold are valueless They tell you all but the important secret. You can have the cryptogram read, if you like, but you wil. be just as well informed at the enc ' as you are now."

A quick look shot over the submanager's face. "You lie," he cried, angrily " Bookmonger would not have refus ed to translate it if that were so."

" Very well," said Lyon. " I an: only making you a suggestion—ar offer, if you like. Clear right out o this, pass over your precious document or put it in the fire, and I wil' pass you a cheque for ten thousanc pounds, to he divided as you like." Bantry laughed loud and long.

Well, you must think I'm a fool,'' ie said. " A secret worth a million to be given up for a scrap of papei that may not be worth —"

Crash ! There was a sound like clanging metal.

Bantry stopped

The next moment the third man oi the party, the sham oil traveller, same running into the room. " Worked it," he cried ; " captured both."

" Splendid," said Bantry. Thanl; you, Mr. Lyon. We are must obliged to you."

The detective looked bewildered

" We have used you for a decoy," jxplained Bantry. " Your twe friends were at liberty tiut now we have captured them again. Two little spitfires like that, with a roving commission all over the works, are iahgerous. So we brought you here. The electric light and your genial manly voice, attracted your friends along the only passage they coulc take to get here. See ?"

" I don't," said Lyon. " There is a trap-door in that passage. It leads into a- disused sawpit. At present it is a bed-sitting-room to your dear friends. They entered it hastily ; let us hope thej haven't cracked their skulls. You are a useful man, Mr. Lyon. Quite a decoy duck—or would decoy goose, be better ?"

CHAPTER VII. A TERRIBLE DEATH

For the next half-hour Lyon was left in the office a close prisoner under the care of the sham oil-traveller, while Bantry and Clanch went out tc discuss something. When they returned they were ac companied by a man with a clott round his head —a peculiarly vindic tive-looking being, whom Lyon im mediately recognised as the mar whom Bookmonger had disablec with his iron bar.

" It's the best way," Bantry was saying. "It will get them out of the way as quickly as any. How many pits are there, Wilkins ?" " Three," replied the man with th< bandaged head. " I'm sure it's th< Dest way. You don't want any questions, and you won't have them. 1 am the foreman of the yard, and IT make the thing all right to-morrow There won't be no fuss, and no inquiry."

" Yeth," put in Clanch ; " but w< had better try one firsht. It might be a jolly old meth." " Rot," said Wilkins. " Good sense," declared Bantry " It shall be one first."

" Which one ?" asked Wilkins, asking the question in the same whistling tones in which every bullet seems to make the same inquiry as it whistles over a battlefield.

" This one," returned Bantry ; " we've got him and I've promised to put an end to his meddling. Ttiis one, John Lyon, the interfering busybody, shall be our first victim. Come along, Wilkins, lend a hand, Clanch; here Gorse " this last to the sham traveller — " now, then, let us get this measly wretch along." " But where ?" asked Gorse ; "what are you going to do with him ?" "Ah, I forgot !" was Bantry's- reply. "Of course we haven't told you. You see —" " Explain when we get there," put in Wilkins roughly ; " time is going on and we've a lot to do."

" Very well," said Bantry ; " now then, each take a limb, and we've ?ot him." Thus was John Lyon frog-marchcd out of the rough works office.

It was not a long journey. In less than three minutes they were in the square in which Lyon had been before, the square with its long rows of furnaces along one end. all now black and cold, save one alone that glowed and palpitated, and quivered with the fierce, white heat of mighty fire. And as John Lyon looked at the great furnace his eye also caught sight of something else.

The square was practically one huge patch of small, fine sand thai could be moulded into any shape, for any purpose—here and there it was already cut up into shapes and figures ready for the morrow's casting. Lyon knew well the method adopted in these foundries. A mould is usually prepared in the sand just in front of a furnace, a channel of sand formed, and then with a sharp instrument the sandy mouth of the furnace is opened and the stream o! white-hot molten metal pours slowly out, runs down the channel, anel tills the mould prepared for it, becoming, when it is cold, the anchor or bar or weight that the designer has marked

out in his sandy design. And so when Ly r on saw in front of the live furnace that there were the

membered t,h\- words 'spoken in t~:e

works office ho. had just, left, it required all his nerve to brace him up to bear the terrible realisation. So this was to be his doom. lie and the two other prisoners were to he found in these pits and the fright-

ful molten iron allowed to pour in upon them, burning them to death, and consuming bone, muscle, smew in its scorching heat. It was an end so frightful that for a moment he could only regard it as an invention of his imagination. Mo human being could be such an incarnate fiend as to carry out such a vindictive and wicked act. But no ! There stood the furnace, and there were the three terrible pits. Bantry was speaking. " You see our plan, Gorse," he said, " that stuff " he pointed to the furnace, and Lyon knew he meant the tons of molten metal that filled it — " that stuff will not only finish the man but leave no trace of him." " I don't know that," said Gorse.

" But I do," objected Bantry, hotly, as though he objected to be doubted. "I tell you that it will leave no trace."

" Then !" persisted Gorse, "if you think that, why make three bites at a cherry ? Why not fetch the other prisoners here and do the whole job at once ?" Then they argued the point.

It was a long argument, or so it seemed to the detective ; but Lyon followed every word with keen inter2st, trusting to find in some casual word that might he dropped some :lue to his future action. But the argument was over at last, and its only net effect was the gain of time. It was decided that the other two prisoners should he brought out. Then followed a weary time ol waiting. Again John Lyon was left a helpless captive, while Gorse mounted guard over him.

During that time it would he impossible to say how many schemes John Lyon considered and abandoned. Nor did he confine himself tc thought only. Once lying on the soft sand he found a sharp stone neat him, and he began sawing his bonds against it in the hope of cutting himself free.

But Gorse was by nn means a bad gaoler. He seemed quite alive tc every possible move that the keen witted prisoner might essay. Thougl: Lyon worked as cautiously as he could, his suspicious captor was awake to his attempt in a moment, and the bond that Lyon had partly cut through was speedily re-enforced by an added length of rope. They returned at length. How the two young men had been captured Lyon could only surmise, but fron: the almost lifeless manner in wind Lesage was dragged along he cams to the conclusion —a conclusion after wards endorsed—that his young as sistant had been stunned by the fal when he slipped through the trap door. Bookmonger he knew, emacia ted and worn by privation, woulc have been unable to make any tell ins: defence.

The next few minutes were terrible in all their morbid preparation foi the ghastly and f.cndish deed. Lyon, Lesage, and Bookmonger each securely bound, were placed it the three rough pits before the furnace.

.Then three channels were cut ir the sand leading from the furnace mouths to the pits. Then there was a terrible silence, broken at last by Ban try. " How have you arranged it ?" he asked of Wilkins, the man with the damaged head. "Oh, him first," he said, pointing his thumb at Lyon. " When his pil is full you can change the channel. " Very well," replied Bantry ; "let it go. Better make it a slow strean: to begin." " That's what I think too," said Wilkins, savagely.

And as he spoke he seized the lone pricking-rod with which the snnd at the mouth of the furnace was cut through. " Ready ?" he asked. " Ready !" replied Bantry.

The rod was gently stubbed int.c the sand. There was a fierce while glow, and a thin shining stream issued from the mouth of the futnacc and poured gently along the channel.

It reached the end. It, fell over flu Ddge—a thin white stream—iron, li quid hot —over the edge of the pit where. John Lyon lay a helpless prisoner (To be Continued.)