The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1901-12-03
with Arbogast's. All! yes; thought
SO. You are sitting upon one of these

with Arbogast's. All! yes; thought
bodies now"
Sprague started to his feet: and
following the direction in which Stur.
gis was pointing with his open knife,
he vaguely discerned, through the
opening which the reporter had whlt>
tied, small surface of what had
once been the features of human
being.
After gazing for some minutes in
horror-stricken silence at the distort-
ed face, the artist asked in a low
voice:
How did Chatham meet his death p
81 don't know yet" answered Stur-
gis, grayely; this man is no ordinary
criminal. His work is clean and
leaves no blood-stains and no disorder
to tell of it's accomplishment. He
takes life with his own hands only
when he is forced to do so; but. when
he does, his method is mastery. 1t
was easier to make away with Chat
ham than to pay him the price agreed
npon for his completely in the knick-
| erboeker bank enlightenment; and SO
his life was taken. hope to discover
how before l leave here
Sprague started as the reporter
ceased speaking.
''The price of his complicity?" he
claimed laying his hand upon Stnrgis'
arm and looking earnestly into his
| eyes.
"Yes.'' replied the reporter. steadi-
by meeting his friends gaze, his
daughters hand :
Sprague looked away from the hon
! est eyes of the reporter, as if he
dreaded to read in them the answer
to his next question.
'tWho is this fiend incarnate. who
is willing to traffic in his own flesh
and blood. and with whom murder is
y Il science?''
THE man who is capable OF these
crimes. and of any others which
might serve to remove an obstacle
from his way is
The reporter did not finish his sen
tence. He suddenly grasped his com
panion by the arm and stood trans
fixed, his eyes dilated, his neck cranet
in listening attitude, every muscle
tense like those of wild animal il
ambush about to spring upon its ap
preaching prey
Presently click was heard a!
though bolt had been shot from it:
socket.
DRAW your revolver" sturgis whis
pered hoarse,y to his companion
Quick! Look there!a
At the same time he drew his owl
weapon and pointed in the direction
Of the door at the head of the stairs
The door opened and man entered
quietly smoking a cigar.
"Dr. Murtock!" exclaimed Spragu
with horror.
Murdoch, still holding the door aja1
eyed the two men for an instant, hi
impassiye face betraying not tn
slightest sign of emotion. Then, tax
ing his cigar from his lips:
'sAh, gentlemen" he drawled, in hi
ironical way. Il am delighted to sc
you. l trust you will make yourselve
perfectly at home for a few minute:
| shall return directly. You can cor
tinue to work out your little prol
/ lem in the meantime. Mr.. Sturgis.
With these words he calmly turne
, to leave the room.
! ''Stop!" shouted Sturgis. levelin
Z his revolver at Murdock's head; "stan
where you are or ! fire.
TIKI, rannriar's shot r.,rt ont limos
| before he had finished his sentence
4 but Murdoch. unscathed. passed OF
| of the room. closing the door behin
i him.
! Sprague. dazed by the rapidity wit
/ which this scene had been acted. stoo
!. rooted to the spot, without havin
: made any attempt to use the revolve
which he had drawn at Sturgis' biz
. ding.
The reporter sprang up the stail
e and threw his weight against tt
i door. But it was doubtless intende
to withstand great shocks, for it I
: manned unshaken
n 'Check!" came the sound of moe
S ing voice from the other side of ii
: door.
4 Then, rushing down the stat
} again, Sturgis shouted to his cor
t panion:
: Come quick! We must get out
L here"
: And he led the way through Il
/ subterranean passage toward the &C
S lar of the Manhattan Chemical COZ
c pany.
/ CHAPTER Mi.
THE DEATH CHAMBER.
e