NICK’S EXTREMITY.
The newcomer saw his opportunity and snatched up a chair as he rushed
toward the tangled combatants.
Nick heard him coming, but did not have time to extricate himself from
Grantley’s dogged grasp.
He raised his weapon, though, and was about to fire at Willard, when he
saw that the latter was directly between him and Helga Lund. Under the
circumstances, the detective did not dare to fire for fear of hitting
the actress.
He kept Grantley down as best he could with his left hand, and waited
for Willard with his right hand still extended, holding the automatic.
He might have an opportunity to fire, but, if not, he could at least
partially ward off the expected blow from the chair.
Just as Willard paused and swung the chair aloft, Grantley managed
partially to dislodge the detective, with the result that Nick was
obliged to lower his right arm quickly. Otherwise he would undoubtedly
have lost his balance completely, and the surgeon-convict would have had
the upper hand in another second or two.
This involuntary lowering of Nick’s guard served the purpose that
Grantley had intended. Willard’s cumbersome weapon descended with
uninterrupted force on the detective’s shoulders and the back of his
head.
Nick lowered the latter instinctively, and thus saved himself the worst
of the blow. Nevertheless, the impact of the chair was stunning in its
force.
The detective felt his senses reeling, but he somehow managed to retain
them and to grasp the chair, which he blindly wrenched from Willard’s
grasp.
As he did so, however, Grantley succeeded in throwing him off and
scrambling to his feet. Nick followed his example almost simultaneously,
dropped his revolver into his pocket--for fear it would fall into the
hands of one of his enemies--and, grasping the heavy chair with both
hands, whirled it about his head.
His two antagonists dodged it hurriedly, thus clearing a space about
him. Their blood was up, however--especially Grantley’s--and they felt
sure that the detective had by no means recovered from the blow.
“Catch the chair, Willard!” cried Grantley.
The younger physician obeyed instantly, grasping the round of the chair
with both hands, and thus preventing Nick from using it to any
advantage.
The detective shoved it forward into the pit of Willard’s stomach, but
the newcomer managed to retain his hold. He guessed that Grantley merely
meant him to keep Nick busy in front, in order to allow of a rear
attack; and such was the case.
While the detective was occupied with Willard, Grantley stole behind him
and plunged his hand into Nick’s pocket, in search of the automatic.
The detective was obliged to let go of the chair and clamp his hand on
Grantley’s wrist. He was still feeling very groggy as a result of the
punishment he had recently received, and a thrill of apprehension went
through him.
Grantley’s hand was already deep in his pocket, grasping the butt of the
weapon; and there was nothing about the wrist hold to prevent the
criminal from turning the muzzle of the automatic toward his side and
pulling the trigger.
Incidentally, Nick foresaw that he could not hope to hold the chair with
one hand. Willard would twist it away and turn it upon him.
He was right. That was precisely what Willard did. Nick let go just in
time to escape a sprained if not broken wrist, and dodged back.
In order to keep his hand in Nick’s pocket, Grantley was then obliged to
circle about, between the detective and Willard. That saved Nick from
the latter for the moment, and, simultaneously, the detective shifted
his hold from Grantley’s wrist to his hand, pressing his thumb in under
the latter in such a way that it prevented the hammer of the automatic
from descending.
He was just in time, for Grantley pulled the trigger almost at the same
moment. Thanks to Nick’s foresight, however, the weapon did not go off.
Grantley cursed under his breath, but he had not emptied his bag of
tricks. He suddenly drove his head and shoulders in between Nick’s right
arm and side, and threw his own left arm around, with a back-hand
movement, in front of the detective’s body.
The move threw the detective backward, over Grantley’s knee, which was
ready for him. At the same time, the criminal, whose right hand had
remained on the weapon in Nick’s pocket, began to draw the automatic
out and to the rear.
In other words, he was forcing the detective in one direction with the
left arm and working the revolver in the other with his right. It was
manifestly impossible for Nick to stand the two opposing pressures for
long.
Either he must break the hold of Grantley’s left arm, which pressed
across his chest like an iron band, or else he must let go of the
weapon.
The former seemed out of the question in that position; and to
relinquish his hold on the revolver meant a shot in the side, which,
with Grantley’s knowledge of anatomy, would almost certainly prove
fatal.
Backward went Nick’s straining right arm, inward turned the hard muzzle
of the weapon. Grantley was twisting the automatic now, hoping to loosen
the detective’s grasp all the quicker.
Something was due in a few moments, and it promised to be a tragedy for
the detective.
Then, to cap the climax, Willard circled about the two combatants, like
a hawk ready to swoop down on its prey, and, seeing Nick’s head
protruding from under Grantley’s left arm, hauled off and let drive with
the chair.
The surgeon received part of the blow, but Nick’s head stopped enough of
it to end the strange tussle.
The detective crumpled up, but Grantley held him from the floor and
wrested the weapon from the nerveless fingers. He withdrew it from
Nick’s pocket and put it to the detective’s left breast, determined to
end it all, without fail.
It was at that supreme moment that Chick charged up and took a hand.
Nick’s assistant reached Willard first. The latter’s back was toward
him, and he was just in the act of drawing back the chair. Chick’s
clubbed weapon descended on his head without warning, and Willard
pitched forward on his face.
It was not until then that Chick saw the automatic at his chief’s
breast. There was no time to reach Grantley--not a second to waste.
The young detective did what Nick and his men seldom allowed themselves
to do--he turned his automatic around again and shot to kill.
Nick’s own life depended upon it, and there was nothing else to do.
The bullet struck Grantley full between the eyes, and the escaped
convict dropped without a sound.
The battle was over and won.
* * * * *
Doctor Hiram A. Grantley--so called--master surgeon and monster of
crime, would never return to Sing Sing to serve out his unexpired term;
but neither would he trouble the world or Helga Lund again.
If the truth were known, it would doubtless be found that Warden Kennedy
heaved a sigh of profound relief when he heard of Grantley’s death. It
left no room for anxiety over the possibility of another hypnotic
escape.
Doctors Chester, Willard, and Graves were speedily brought to trial, and
they were convicted of aiding and abetting the deceased Grantley in an
illegal experiment in hypnotism on the person of the great Swedish
actress.
As for Helga Lund, she was a nervous wreck for nearly a year, but
gradually, under the care of the best European physicians, she recovered
her health and her confidence in herself.
She has now returned to the stage, and Nick Carter, who has seen her
recently in Paris, declares that she is more wonderful than ever.
He wishes he could have spared her that last humiliating ordeal, but she
is wise enough to know that, but for him and Chick, the man she had
despised would have made his dreadful vengeance complete.