THE BROTHERHOOD of DEATH

Waikato Times, Volume 127, Issue 21280, 26 November 1940, Page 8

THE BROTHERHOOD of DEATH

by GEORGE STANLEY

OUB SERIAL STORY

CHAPTER VIII.— (Continued). They folded the curtains into the form of a rope and fastened one end to the banisters, letting the other trail down the black hole, “That's fine,” said the detectiveinspector. “Now let’s have another pennyworth of shocks!” He moved on resolutely along the corridor, opening the doors of the various dust-covered rooms, and flicking his torch around them. It was obvious that no lift arrangement was in force, and they found nothing of interest, nor did any further incident occur. They were standing near the open trap-door when a sudden call from the men below attracted their attention. They ran down the stairs to find a knot of men gathered along the corridor below and one, a sergeant, explained what they had discovered. “We’ve busted the wall, sir,” he reported, “and found a passage running along the wall, but it ends in a blank.. More important thing is this: One of the boys have spotted that there is a room missing. Now assume that these rooms, instead of going up like a lift, slide sideways, then that blank wall there would just take a room.” “You’re right,” exclaimed Dick Fordham. “Good work, boys! We've lost two men and we’ll get them back if I smash this place down. Get to work on this wall about here, but watch out for any funny business, if you findi the room and enter. Two of you smash down this closed door. I expect that there is a hole on the other side. Give me a shout if anything happens.” He hurried down the stairs and, taking two men from the outside gave them a few orders. “ When you get the stuff,” he said, “bring it back'inside, and take it up to the third floor. Make it snappy.” He made a tour of the premises and sent four men up to the floor where they had left the open trapdoor to continue the search. Then, intrigued by the problem of the sliding rooms, he made his way to the corridor. The closed door which he had been unable to open had given way under .the leverage of two skilfullyapplied crowbars, revealing,* as he had expected, a blank space beyond. Within, the light of a torch revealed the steel girders along which the sliding rooms moved. A call from the end of the corridor drew him away. He found that the men there had smashed, down a section of the corridor wall and the wooden wall of the room beyond and, as Dick Fordham stared through the hole, he realised that it was undoubtedly the chamber in which he had left the two detectives, but they were certainly not in the room now. He climbed through the hole and made a search of the room, but it revealed no traces of a struggle. Baffled, he was about to leave, when he suddenly barked an order for the men outside to stop talking. For his quick ear had caught a peculiar sound of bumping. He listened intently and gradually traced the sound to the wall facing the one at which the hole had been smashed. At his shout the men from outside joined him and, seizing a crowbar, the detective-inspector led the attack.

A few smashed at the wall and they discovered the cunningly contrived door which led from the room. Beyond it lay another. A few strokes of their weapons and this gave under the attack, revealing another room. It was dark, but the light from their torches revealed not only the two missing men, lying bound and gagged, but another big stack of packages containing drugs and smuggled goods. Quickly the men slashed through the ropes which bound their comrades and, revived by a pull from a flask, they were soon ready to talk. It appeared that the light in the room had been extinguished, and then in the darkness they had been overcome by a number of men, bound and gagged, and carried into the secret chamber. As soon as he had heard this explanation, Dick Fordham issued his orders, and a thorough but fruitless search was made for another exit of the room. At last the detectiveinspector called off his men. “Get that collection of dope cleared,” he said. “That will give them something to think about. We’ve finished now, and I’m not sorry. Clear up, boys! Come on, Sergeant Tabard. He mounted the stairs to the floor above, and found two officers awaiting them. Stacked on the floor near the open trap-door were ten bulky sacks. “What’s this gag?” asked Tabard curiously. “Hare and hounds!” said Dick Fordham. “Come on, shoot the stuff down that hole.” He started the proceedings by opening one of the sacks and sent a stream of sawdust cascading into the depths below. “Shoot the rest of the sacks down, boys,” he said. “Then you can clear. Come on, Joe, we’ve finished.” , , He led the way from the landing and his puzzled assistant followed. (To be continued daily)