THE DISAPPEARING HELMETS
It was early the following morning that, very excited, Elaine and I
showed Aunt Josephine the photograph which we had snapped and developed
by using Kennedy's trick method.
"But who is it?" asked Aunt Josephine examining the print carefully and
seeing nothing but a face masked and with a pair of hands before it, a
seal ring on the little finger of one hand.
"Oh, I forgot that you hadn't seen the ring before," explained Elaine.
"Why, we knew him at once, in spite of everything, by that seal
ring--Mr. Del Mar!"
"Mr. Del Mar?" repeated Aunt Josephine, looking from one to the other
of us, incredulous.
"I saw the ring at his own bungalow and on his own finger," reiterated
Elaine positively.
"But what are you going to do, now?" asked Aunt Josephine.
"Have him arrested, of course," Elaine replied.
Still talking over the strange experience of the night before, we went
out on the veranda.
"Well, of all the nerve!" exclaimed Elaine, catching sight of a man
coming up the gravel walk. "If that isn't Henry, Mr. Del Mar's valet!"
The valet advanced as though nothing had happened and, indeed, I
suppose that as far as he knew nothing had happened or was known to us.
He bowed and handed Elaine a note which she tore open quickly and read.
"Would you go?" she asked, handing the note over to me.
It read:
DEAR MISS DODGE,
If you and Mr. Jameson will call on me to-day, I will have something of
interest to tell you concerning my investigations in the case of the
disappearance of Craig Kennedy.
Sincerely,
M. DEL MAR.
"Yes," I asserted, "I would go."
"Tell Mr. Del Mar we shall see him as soon as possible," nodded Elaine
to the valet who bowed and left quickly.
"What is it?" inquired Aunt Josephine, rejoining us.
"A note from Mr. Del Mar," replied Elaine showing it to her.
"Well," queried Aunt Josephine, "what are you going to do?"
"We're going, of course," cried Elaine.
"You're not," blurted out Aunt Josephine. "Why, just think. He's sure
to do something."
But Elaine and I had made up our minds.
"I know it," I interjected. "He's sure to try something that will show
his hand--and then I've got him."
Perhaps I threw out my chest a little more than was necessary, but then
I figured that Elaine with her usual intuition had for once agreed with
me and that it must be all right. I drew my gun and twirled the
cylinder about as I spoke. Indeed I felt, since the success of the
snapshot episode, that I was a match for several Del Mar's.
"Yes, Walter is right," agreed Elaine.
Aunt Josephine continued to shake her head sagely in protest. But
Elaine waved all her protestations aside and ran into the house to get
ready for the visit.
Half an hour later, two saddle horses were brought around to the front
of Dodge Hall and Elaine and I sallied forth.
Aunt Josephine was still protesting against our going to Del Mar's, but
we had made up our minds to carry the thing through. "You know," she
insisted, "that Mr. Kennedy is not around to protect you two children.
Something will surely happen to you if you don't keep out of this
affair."
"Oh, Auntie," laughed Elaine, a bit nervously, however, "don't be a
kill-joy. Suppose Craig isn't about? Who's going to do this, if Walter
and I don't?"
In spite of all, we mounted and rode away.
. . . . . . .
Del Mar, still continuing his nefarious work of mining American harbors
and bridges, had arrived at a scheme as soon as he returned from the
attempt to get back from us the Sandy Hook plans. Smith, who had stolen
the plans from the War Department, was still at the bungalow.
Early in the morning, Del Mar had seated himself at his desk and wrote
a letter.
"Here, Henry," he directed his valet, "take this to Miss Dodge."
As the valet went out, he wrote another note. "Read that," he said,
handing it over to Smith. "It's a message I want you to take to
headquarters right away."
It was worded cryptically:
A. A. L. N. Y.
Closely watched. Must act soon or all will be discovered.--M.
Smith read the note, nodded, and put it into his pocket, as he started
to the door.
"No, no," shouted Del Mar, calling him back. "This thing means that
you'll have to be careful in your getaway. You'd better go out through
my secret passage," he added, pointing to the panel in the library wall.
He pressed the button on the desk and Smith left through the hidden
passage. Down it he groped and at the other end emerged. Seeing no one
around, he made his way to the road. There seemed to be no one who
looked at all suspicious on the road, either, and Smith congratulated
himself on his easy escape.
On a bridge over a creek, however, as Smith approached, was one
inoffensive-looking person who might have been a minister or a
professor. He was leaning on the rail in deep thought, gazing at the
creek that ran beneath him, and now and then flashing a sharp glance
about.
Suddenly he saw something approaching. Instantly he dodged to the
farther end of the bridge and took refuge behind a tree. Smith walked
on over the bridge, oblivious to the fact that he was watched. No
sooner had he disappeared than the inquisitive stranger emerged again
from behind the tree.
It was the mysterious Professor Arnold who many times had shown a
peculiar interest in the welfare of Elaine and myself.
Evidently he had recognized Del Mar's messenger, for after watching him
a moment he turned and followed.
At the railroad station, just before the train for New York pulled in,
the waiting crowd was increased by one stranger. Smith had come in and
taken his place unostentatiously among them.
But if he thought he was to be lost in the little crowd, he was much
mistaken. Arnold had followed, but not so quickly that he had not had
time to pick up the two policemen that the town boasted, both of whom
were down at the station at the time.
"There he is," indicated Arnold, "the fellow with the slight limp.
Bring him to my room in the St. Germain Hotel."
"All right, sir," replied the officers, edging their way to the
platform as Arnold retreated back of the station and disappeared up the
street.
Just then the train pulled into the station and the passengers crowded
forward to mount the steps. Smith was just about to push his way on
with them, when the officers elbowed through the crowd.
"You're wanted," hissed one of them, seizing his shoulder.
But Smith, in spite of his deformity, was not one to submit to arrest
without a struggle. He fought them off and broke away, running toward
the baggage-room.
As he rushed in, they followed. One of them was gaining on him and took
a flying football tackle. The other almost fell over the twisted mass
of arms and legs. The struggle now was short and sharp and ended in the
officers slipping the bracelets over the wrists of Smith. While the
passengers and bystanders crowded about to watch the excitement, they
led him off quickly.
. . . . . . .
In his rooms at the St. Germain, cluttered with test tubes and other
paraphernalia which indicated his scientific tendencies, Professor
Arnold entered and threw off his hat, lighting a cigarette and waiting
impatiently.
He had not as long to wait as he had expected. A knock sounded at the
door and he opened it. There was Smith handcuffed and forced in by the
two policemen.
"Good work," commended Arnold, at once setting to work to search the
prisoner who fumed but could not resist.
"What have we here?" drawled Arnold in mock courtesy and surprise as he
found and drew forth from Smith's pocket a bundle of papers, which he
hastily ran through.
"Ah!" he muttered, coming to Del Mar's note, which he opened and read.
"What's this? 'A. A. L. N. Y. Closely watched. Must act soon or all
will be discovered. M.' Now, what's all that?"
Arnold pondered the text deeply. "You may take him away, now," he
concluded, glancing up from the note to the officers. "Thank you."
"All right, sir," they returned, prodding Smith along out.
Still studying the note, Arnold sat down at the desk. Thoughtfully he
picked up a pencil. Under the letters A. A. L. he slowly wrote
"Anti-American League" and under the initial M the name, "Martin."
"Now is the time, if ever, to use that new telaphotograph instrument
which I have installed for the War Department in Washington and carry
around with me," he said to himself, rising and going to a closet.
He took out a large instrument composed of innumerable coils and a
queer battery of selenium cells. It was the receiver of the new
instrument by which a photograph could be sent over a telegraph wire.
Down-stairs, in the telegraph room of the hotel, Arnold secured the
services of one of the operators. Evidently by the way they obeyed him
they had received orders from the company regarding him, and knew him
well there.
"I wish you'd send this message right away to Washington," he said,
handing in a blank he had already written.
The clerk checked it over:
U. S. WAR DEPARTMENT, Washington, D. C.
Wire me immediately photograph and personal history
of Martin arrested two years ago as head of Anti-American League.--ARNOLD.
As the message was ticked off, Arnold attached his receiving
telaphotograph instrument to another wire.
It was a matter scarcely of seconds before a message was flashed back
to Arnold from Washington:
Martin escaped from Fort Leavenworth six months
ago. Thought to be in Europe. Photograph follows.
EDWARDS.
"Very well," nodded Arnold with satisfaction. "I think I know what is
going on here now. Let us wait for the photograph."
He went over to the new selenium telaphotograph and began adjusting it.
Far away, in Washington, in a room in the War Department where Arnold
had already installed his system for the secret government service, a
clerk was also working over the sending part of the apparatus.
No sooner had the clerk finished his preparations and placed a
photograph in the transmitter than the buzzing of the receiver which
Arnold had installed announced to him that the marvellous transmission
of a picture over a wire, one of the very newest triumphs of science,
was in progress. In the little telegraph office of the St. Germain, the
clerks and operators crowded about Arnold, watching breathlessly.
"By Jove, it works!" cried one, no longer sceptical.
Slowly a print was being evolved before their eyes as if by a spirit
hand. Arnold watched the synchronizer apparatus carefully as, point
after point, the picture developed. He bent over closely, his attention
devoted to every part of the complicated apparatus.
At last the transmission of the photograph was completed and the
machine came to rest. Arnold almost tore the print from the receiver
and held it up to examine it.
A smile of intense satisfaction crossed his face.
"At last!" he muttered.
There was a photograph of the man who had been identified with the arch
conspirators of two years before, Martin. Only, now he had changed his
name and appeared in a new role.
It was Marcus Del Mar!
. . . . . . .
Already, in the library of his bungalow, Del Mar had summoned one of
his trusted men and was talking to him, when Henry, the valet,
reentered after his trip to see us.
"They're coming as soon as they can," he reported.
Del Mar smiled a cynical smile. "Good," he exclaimed triumphantly,
then, looking about at the electric fixtures, added to the man, "Let us
see where to install the thing."
He walked over to the door and put his hand on the knob, then pointed
back at the fixtures.
"That's the idea," he cried. "You can run the line from the brackets to
this door-knob and the mat. How's that?"
"Very clever," flattered the man, putting on a heavy pair of rubber
gloves.
Taking a pair of pliers and other tools from a closet in the library,
he began removing the electric fixture from the wall. As Del Mar
directed, the man ran a wire from the fixture along the moulding, and
down the side of a door, where he made a connection.
In the meantime Del Mar brought out a wire mat and laid it in front of
the door where any one who entered or left would be sure to step on it.
The various connections made, the man placed a switch in the
concealment of a heavily-curtained window and replaced everything as he
found it.
Thus it was that Elaine and I came at last to Del Mar's bungalow, I
must admit, with some misgivings. But I had gone too far to draw back
now and Elaine was more eager even than I was. We dismounted, tethered
our horses and went toward the house, where I rang the bell.
Preparations for our reception had just been completed and Del Mar was
issuing his final instructions to his man, when the valet, Henry, ran
in hastily.
"They're here, sir, now," he announced excitedly.
"All right, I'm ready," nodded Del Mar, turning to his man again and
indicating a place back of the folds of the heavy curtains by the
window. "You get back there by that switch. Don't move--don't even
breathe. Now, Henry, let them in."
As his valet withdrew Del Mar gazed about his library to make sure that
everything was all right. Just then the valet reappeared and ushered us
in.
"Good morning," greeted Del Mar pleasantly. "I see that you got my note
and I'm glad you were so prompt. Won't you be seated?"
Both Elaine and I were endeavoring to appear at ease. But there was a
decided tension in the atmosphere. We sat down, however. Del Mar did
not seem to notice anything wrong.
"I've something at last to report to you about Kennedy," he said a
moment later, clearing his throat.
. . . . . . .
Aunt Josephine turned from us as Elaine and I rode off on our horses
from Dodge Hall considerably worried.
Then an idea seemed to occur to her and she walked determinedly into
the house.
"Jennings," she called to the butler, "have the limousine brought
around from the garage immediately."
"Yes, ma'am," acquiesced the faithful Jennings, hurrying out.
It was only a few minutes later that the car pulled around before the
door. Aunt Josephine bustled out and entered.
"Fort Dale," she directed the driver, greatly agitated. "Ask for
Lieutenant Woodward."
Out at Fort Dale, Woodward was much astonished when an orderly
announced that Aunt Josephine was waiting in her car to see him on very
urgent business. He ordered that she be admitted at once.
"I hope there's nothing wrong?" he inquired anxiously, as he noted the
excitement and the worried look on her face.
"I--I'm afraid there may be," she replied, sitting down and explaining
what Elaine and I had just done.
The Lieutenant listened gravely.
"And," she concluded, "they wouldn't listen to me, Lieutenant. Can't
you follow them and keep them out of trouble?"
Woodward who had been listening to her attentively jumped up as she
concluded. "Yes," he cried sympathetically, "I can. I'll go myself with
some of the men from the post. If they get into any scrape, I'll rescue
them."
Almost before she could thank him, Woodward had hurried from his
office, followed by her. On the parade grounds were some men. Quickly
he issued his orders and a number of them sprang up as he detailed them
off for the duty. It was only a moment before they returned, armed. An
instant later three large touring cars from the Fort swept up before
the office of Woodward. Into them the armed men piled.
"Hurry--to the Del Mar bungalow," ordered the Lieutenant, jumping up
with the driver of the first car. "We must see that nothing happens to
Miss Dodge and Mr. Jameson."
They shot away in a cloud of dust, followed hard by the other two cars,
dashing at a breakneck speed over the good roads.
In the narrow, wooded roadway near Del Mar's, Woodward halted his car
and the soldiers all jumped out and gathered about him as hastily he
issued his directions.
"Surround the house, first," he ordered. "Then arrest any one who goes
in or out."
They scattered, forming a wide circle. As soon as word was passed that
the circle was completed, they advanced cautiously at a signal from
Woodward, taking advantage of every concealment.
. . . . . . .
Around in the kitchen back of Del Mar's, Henry, the valet, had retired
to visit one of the maids. He was about to leave when he happened to
look out of the window.
"What's that?" he muttered to himself.
He stepped back and peered cautiously through the window again. There
he could see a soldier, moving stealthily behind a bush.
He drew back further and thought a minute. He must not alarm us.
Then he wrote a few words on a piece of paper and tore it so that he
could hold it in his palm. Next he hurried from the kitchen and entered
the study.
Del Mar had scarcely begun to outline to us a long and circumstantial
pseudo-investigation into what he was pleased to hint had been the
death of Kennedy, when we were interrupted again by the entrance of his
valet.
"Excuse me, sir," apologized Henry, as Del Mar frowned, then noted that
something was wrong.
As the valet said the words, he managed surreptitiously to hand to Del
Mar the paper which he had written, now folded up into a very small
space.
I had turned from Del Mar when the valet entered, apparently to speak
to Elaine, but in reality to throw them off their guard.
Under that cover I was able to watch the precious pair from the tail of
my eye, I saw Del Mar nod to the valet as though he understood that
some warning was about to be conveyed. Although nothing was said, Del
Mar was indicating by dumb show orders of some kind. I had no idea what
it was all about but I stood ready to whip out my gun on the slightest
suspicious move from either.
"I hope you'll pardon me, Miss Dodge," Del Mar deprecated, as the valet
retreated toward the door to the kitchen and pantry. "But, you see, I
have to be housekeeper here, too, it seems."
Actually, though he was talking to us, it was in a way that enabled him
by palming something in his hand, I fancied, to look at it. It was,
though I did not know it, the hastily scrawled warning of the valet.
It must have been hard to read, for I managed by a quick shift at last
to catch just a fleeting glimpse that it was a piece of paper he held
in his hand. What was it, I asked myself, that he should be so secret
about it? Clearly, I reasoned, it must be something that was of
interest to Elaine and myself. If I must act ever, I concluded, now was
the time to do so.
Suddenly I reached out and snatched the note from his hand. But before
I could read it Del Mar had sprung to his feet.
At the same instant a man leaped out from behind the curtains.
But I was on my guard. Already I had drawn my revolver and had them all
covered before they could make another move.
"Back into that corner--by the window--all of you," I ordered, thinking
thus to get them together, more easily covered. Then, handing the note,
with my other hand, to Elaine, I said to her, "See what it says--quick."
Eagerly she took it and read aloud, "House surrounded by soldiers."
"Woodward," I cried.
Still keeping them covered, I smiled quietly to myself and took one
step after another slowly to the door. Elaine followed.
I reached the door and I remember that I had to step on a metal mat to
do so. I put my hand behind me and grasped the knob about to open the
door.
As I did so, the man who had jumped from behind the curtain suddenly
threw down his upraised hands. Before I could fire, instantaneously in
fact, I felt a thrill as though a million needles had been thrust into
all parts of my body at once paralyzing every muscle and nerve. The gun
fell from my nerveless hand, clattering to the floor.
The man had thrown an electric switch which had completed a circuit
from the metal mat to the door-knob through my body and then to the
light and power current of high power. There I was, held a prisoner, by
the electric current!
At the same instant, also, Del Mar with an oath leaped forward and
seized Elaine by the arms. I struggled with the door-knob but I could
no more let go than I could move my feet off that mat. It was torture.
"Henry!" called Del Mar to the valet.
"Yes, sir."
"Open the cabinet. Give me the helmets and the suits."
The valet did so, bringing out a number of queer looking head-pieces
with a single weird eye of glass in the front, as well as rubber suits
of an outlandish design. While he was doing so, Del Mar stuffed a
handkerchief into Elaine's mouth to keep her quiet.
By this time, Del Mar, as well as the man from behind the curtains and
the valet were provided with suits, and one at a time holding Elaine,
the others put them on.
Del Mar moved toward Elaine, holding an extra helmet. He strapped it on
her, then started to force her into a suit.
I struggled still, but in vain, to free myself from the door-knob and
mat. It was more than I could stand, and I sank down, half conscious.
I revived only long enough to see that Del Mar had forced one of the
suits on Elaine finally. Then he pressed a button hidden on the side of
his desk and a secret panel in the wall opened. Picking up Elaine he
and the others hurried through into what looked like a dark passage and
the panel closed.
They were gone. I put forth all my remaining strength in one last
desperate struggle. Somehow, I managed to kick the wire mat from under
my feet, breaking the contact.
I staggered toward the panel, but fell to the floor, unconscious.
. . . . . . .
Outside, the iron ring, as Woodward had planned it, of soldiers were
looking about, alert for any noise or movement. Suddenly, two of them
who had been watching the grounds attentively signalled to each other
that they saw something.
From the shrubbery emerged a most curious and uncouth figure, all in
rags, with long, unkempt hair and beard, sallow complexion, and
carrying a long staff. It might have been a tramp or a hermit, perhaps,
who was making his way toward the house.
The two soldiers stole up noiselessly, close to him. Almost before he
knew it, the hermit felt himself seized from behind by four powerful
arms. Escape was impossible.
"Let me go," he pleaded. "Can't you see I'm harming no one?"
But the captors were obdurate. "Tell it to the Lieutenant," they
rejoined grimly forcing him to go before them by twisting his arms,
"Our orders were to seize any one entering or leaving."
Protests were in vain. The hermit was forced to go before Lieutenant
Woodward who was just in the rear directing the advance.
"Well," demanded Woodward, "what's your business?"
For an instant the hermit stood mute. What should he do? He has reason
to know that the situation must be urgent.
Slowly he raised his beard so that Woodward could see not only that it
was false but what his features looked like.
"Arnold!" gasped Woodward, startled. "What brings you here? Elaine and
Jameson are in the house. We have it surrounded."
Half an hour before, in the St. Germain, Arnold had no sooner received
the telaphotograph than he hurried up to his room. From a closet he had
produced another of his numerous disguises and quickly put it on. With
scant white locks falling over his shoulders and long scraggly beard,
he had made himself into a veritable wild man. Then he had put on the
finishing touches and had made his way toward Del Mar's.
A look of intense anxiety now flashed over Arnold's face as he heard
Woodward's words.
"But," he cried, "there is an underground passage from the house to the
shore."
"The deuce!" muttered Woodward, more alarmed now than ever. "Come,
men,--to the house," he shouted out his orders as they passed them
around the line. "Arnold, lead the way!"
Together the soldier and the strange figure rushed to the front door of
the bungalow. All was still inside. Heavy as it was, they broke it down
and burst in.
"Walter, there's Walter!" cried Woodward as he saw me lying on the
floor of the study when they ran in.
They hurried to me and as quickly as they could started to bring me
around.
"Where's Elaine?" asked the strange figure of the hermit.
Weakly, I was able only to point to the panel. But it was enough. The
soldiers understood. They dashed for it, looking for a button or an
opening. Finding neither, they started to bang on it and batter it in
with the butts of their guns.
It was only seconds before it was splintered to kindling. There was the
passage. Instantly, Woodward, the hermit, and the rest plunged into it
utterly regardless of danger. On through the tunnel they went until at
last they came, unmolested, to the end. There they paused to look about.
The hermit pointed to the ground. Clearly there were footprints,
leading to the shore. They followed them on down to the beach.
"Look!" pointed the hermit.
Off in the water they could now see the most curious sights. Four
strangely helmeted creatures were wading out, each like a huge
octopus-head, without tentacles.
Only a few seconds before, Del Mar and his companions, carrying Elaine
had emerged from the secret entrance of the tunnel and had dashed for
the shore of the promontory.
Stopping only an instant to consider what was to be done, Del Mar had
seen some one else emerge from the tunnel.
"Come--we must get down there quickly," he shouted, hurriedly issuing
orders, as all three, carrying Elaine, waded out into the water.
At sight of the strange figures the soldiers raised their guns and a
volley of shot rang out.
"Stop!" shouted the hermit, his hair streaming wildly as he ran before
the guns and threw up as many as he could grasp with his outstretched
arms. "Do you want to kill her?"
"Her?" repeated Woodward.
All stood there, wonderingly, gazing at the queer creatures.
What did it mean?
Slowly, they disappeared--literally under the water.
They were gone--with Elaine!