THE GREY PHANTOM'S ROMANCE

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 795, 16 October 1929, Page 5

THE GREY PHANTOM'S ROMANCE

The Astonishing Adventures of a Lovable Outlaw.

Copyright

by Street and Smith Corn.

Serialised by Ledger Syndicate •

SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING INSTALMENTS Eate one night Patrolman Pinto is ‘ailed into the shop of Sylvanus Gage, enuf:p tobari-o dealer, just off the BowNew York. The old housekeeper, had summoned him, fears foul play “* r mastei '. who had recently rea threatening letter signed “Grey Breaking in the door. Of.in*° finds Gage dying from a. fhi re th ™st and is just in time to catch “Grey Phantom’’ from the murdered man s lips. •v motive for th«- crime, so foreign .Leo. Grey Phantom’s code, lies in the of a small cross, once the ni-operty of the Phantom, and recently into Gage's possession. This bauble from the dead man’s effects, aitnoush oO.oon dollars worth of diamonds ■'mams intact. thin' n °n Lone Island at Sea Glimpse, j Phantom’s retreat, the sup- j murderer is astonished t«. read a j •h' 1 . acc *nunt of the crime. Realising A?, 1 he has hem framed and that the will spend all their energies look- f m f n /® r . hij «. the Grey Pliant am detersPJL€s so to New York himself and | liev.. 0 ?* P** real culprit, whom he beonim- t( ?K b °T. in , lhe of h,s old mothrV V h f T>llkr - But the strongest JKJLT? , bfh,n(l the Grey Phantom’s bold , of h!iJ* his name in the eyes : Helen Hardwick. CHAPTER IV (Continued) in^ eie was a measur G of safety, too, w the sheer audacity with which he Proceeding. The man-hunters ». ™ look everywhere else, but they ( Qu u a scarcely expect to find their ( .i rry living sumptuously at a firstof ~ S ”. His free and easy mode effm* UC *’ unmar hed by the slightest , p . at concealment, afforded a proin which he could not have found shabbiest hovel and under the 1 •t elaborate disguise. b r . et * es l >ile a H the safeguards his ■ Dp J 1 could invent, the situation was ion» 1? enough to give the Grey Phan- ™ a . H *ke excitement .his nature < His pulses throbbed, and there 1 i pf . \ been sparkle in his eyes as he ' ’he hotel and went out on the | <

streets. The very air seemed charged "with a quality that held him In a state ot piquant suspense. The policemen appeared more alert than usual, and now and then snatches ot conversation reached his ears from little groups at street corners and In doorways who were avidly discussing the Gage murder and the chances ot the Grey Phantam being caught. At each subway entrance and elevated stairway loitered a seemingly slothful and impassive character whom his trained eye easily identified as a detective. Chuckling softly in his beard. The Phantom walked on. Xo one seemed to suspect that the striking and faultlessly garbed figure that sauntered down the streets with such a'carefree aud easy stride, looking for all the world like a leisurely gentleman out for his morning constitutional, might be the object of one of the most | thorough and far-reaching man hunts j ever undertaken by the police. Occa- j sionallv he paused to inspect a window display, incidentally listening to a discussion in which his name was frequently mentioned. The East Houston Street murder, which under ordinary circumstances would have attracted but passing notice, had become a tremendous sensation because of the Grey Phantom’s supposed* connection with it. Gradually he veered off the crowded thoroughfares and entered into a maze of crooked, narrow and squalid streets whore housewives and children with dirt-streaked- faces viewed his imposing figure with frank curiosity. After a glance at a corner sign he turned east, quickening his pace a little and scanning the numbers over the doorways as he proceeded. One of the buildings, a murky brick front with a funeral wreath hanging on the door and a tobacconist's sign

lettered across the ground floor window, lie regarded with more than casual interest. “Sylvanus Gage, Dealer in Pipes, Tobacco x and Cigars,” ’ he read in passing; then, after a moment’s hesitation, he pursued his eastward course, a thoughtful pucker between his eyes. He was trying to outline a course of procedure, a matter to which hitherto he had given scant attention, for the Phantom was the veriest tyro in the science of criminal investigation. Tt occurred to him that one of his first steps should be an inspection of the scene of the murder. A few blocks farther east he turned into a once famous restaurant and ordered luncheon. He dallied over the dishes, smoked a cigar while he drank his coffee, and it was after three o'clock when he left the place and headed in the direction of the tobacco store. This time he paused in front o£ the establishment, looked through the window, aud finding the interior deserted, resolutely rang the bell. Some time passed before the side door was opened by a flat-chested woman with sharp features and unkempt grey hair. “What do you want?” she demanded sulkily, regarding the caller with oddly piercing eyes. “Can’t you see the store’s closed?” The Phantom lifted his hat and smiled urbanely. “Sorry to intrude,” he murmured. “You are Airs. Trippe, I believe?” “Well, suppose I am.” “The late Air. Gage's housekeeper?” “What's that to you?” “I am Air. Adair, of Boston,” explained the Phantom, unruffled by her ! churlish demeanor. He and the 1 woman had met once or twice during his stormy interviews with Gage, but he felt sure she did not recognise him. “You have heard of me as an amateur investigator of crime.” he went on | easily. “I have established a modest I reputation in that line. This morning I happened to read an account of Air. Gage’s death, and some of the circumstances impressed me as interesting. Could I trouble you to show me' the room in which the crime was committed?” “I don’t see what you want to pester me for,” she muttered sullenly, fixing him with a look of obvious sus- | picion. “The police have almost j

worried the life out of me with their fool questions and carryings-on. The case is settled and there’s nothing more to investigate.” “Sure of that. Airs. Trippe?” He had detected a faint hesitancy in her speech and manner, and he was quick to take advantage of it. Incidentally he noticed that she had aged a great deal since he last saw her, and he doubted whether he should have recognised her if they had met by chance. “What about the murderer’s manner of escape?” he added. “I understand that hasn't been explained yet.” “Well, he escaped, didn’t he? I don’t see that it makes any difference how he did it. The Grey Phantom always did things his own way. But,” after a few moments’ wavering, “you can come in and look around.” Her abrupt acquiescence surprised him, and he guessed it was not wholly

due to a desire to be obliging. He wondered, as he followed her through the store, whether her decision to admit him was not prompted by a wish to see what deductions he would make after inspecting the scene of the crime. She opened the inner door, remarking that the damage wrought by Officer Pinto had been repaired a few hours after the murder and that the police department’s seal had been removed only a short while ago. The Phantom passed into the narrow chamber, only slightly altered in appearance since his last visit. The realisation that he was viewing the scene of a crime supposed to have been committed by himself appealed strongly to his dramatic instinct, and the thought that at this moment the police were searching for him with a fine-toothed comb lent a touch of humour to the situation. The woman stepped to the small window in the rear and raised the shade, then stationed herself at the door, peering at him out of wary, narrow-lidded eyes, as if intent on his slightest move. The Phantom glanced at the rickety desk at which Gage had sat while haggling over petty sums and figuring percentages to the fraction of a cent. “I see one of the drawers has been forced open,” he remarked. “Lieutenant Culligore did that.” explained the woman. "That was the drawer where Mr. Gage kept most of his valuables.” “Including the Maltese cross.” the Phantom smilingly put in. Airs, Trippe nodded. “There's a

and so Lieutenant Culligore had to j break the drawer open.” “Yet the cross was gone,” observed . the Phantom, “and the drawer was | intact when Lieutenant Culligore found it. That would seem to indicate j that the murderer knew how to j operate the spring.” “Well, hasn't the Phantom proved that lie knows just about all there is | . to know?” “I am sure the Phantom would feel highly complimented if he could hear ; you say that.” He smiled discreetly, realising that here was another item j of proof, for he was willing to wager | that, though he had never seen Gage work the spring, he could have opened ' the drawer without laying violent hands upon it. He turned to the window, carefully j examined the catch, then raised the lower half and endeavoured to thrust his shoulders through the opening. I The attempt satisfied him that even a smaller man than himself would have found it impossible to squeeze through. That left only the door as a means | egress and ingress, and the door had been bolted on the inside when Officer Pinto arrived, which circumstance seemed to render it flatly impossible

for the murderer to have escaped that j way. Pie tried the lock and examined the stout bolt, then stepped through to the other side, closing the door behind him. A wrinkle of perplexity appeared above his eyes. Even the Phan- j tom’s nimble wits could not devise a way of passing through the door aud leaving it bolted on the inside. The feat did not seem feasible, and yet the murderer must have accomplished it. Elis face wore a frown as he reentered the little chamber. “Can’t figger it out, eh?” The housekeeper seemed to have read his mind. “Well, you needn’t try. The police did, and they had to give it up as bad job. The Phantom has a cute little way with him. doing things so they I can’t be explained. " “And yet,” facing her squarely, “you don't think the Phantom committed the murder?” A scarcely perceptible shiver ran through her shrunken figure. “What else can I think?” she parried. He shrugged his shoulders. The impression haunted him that she was not so sure of the Phantom’s guilt as she appeared. He ran his eyes over the floor, the walls and the murky ceiling. “And you needn’t try to find any i hidden openings, either,” she told him, ! again heading his unspoken thoughts, j “A bunch of headquarters detectives spent half a day tapping the walls and I the ceiling and ripping up boards in I the floor. The Phantom ’

spring somewhere that opens and I shuts it, but none of us could lind it. | The jangle of the bell at the outer door interrupted her, and she looked \ scowlingly toward the front of the j store. “I guess that’s Officer Pinto.” i she muttered. "He’s on night duty. I but he’s been prowling around here i most of the time since the murder. asking silly Questions when he ought 1 to be in bed.” A hard, wary glitter appeared in the Phantom's eyes as she left the room. In an instant he had scented danger. (To be continued tomorrow.!