The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1913-06-12

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Torches shoulder to the closet door and
assuming look of horror.
Torche, thrown off his guard by the sim
pie trick. turned on his heel with hiss and
stared at the closet door, his hand instinc-
lively seeking the knife beside him.
The door had not moved, but the ruse
allowed Poe to give a strange little whistle,
almost unnoticed; whistle curiously like
that which had issued from the lips of the
single man sitting at the far end of the box
next to the Blondells' at the ChAtelet.
At that instant, while Torches gaze was
still fixed on the closet door, a pink nose and
two CLASSY eyes peeped out from beneath
the left leg of the performers tapping
trousers and Poe dropped one of the bright
within foot or two of the animal.
With swift swoop the sleek rat bounced
upon the cherry, clutched it between its
sers leg again.
Christopher Poe stood with a cynical
smile deeply grooved in his hard cheeks.
With a cultural snarl, Torche sprang to
action, clutched the knife in a leap and
dashed on Poe, only to find steady revol-
yer aimed between his eyes and the cool
"GiVe me the Royal Rnby!"
asa majests dia6OIiquei LIE dia6lel''
Kissed Torche, backing from the gun, the
whites of his eyes rolling and his hands
quivering up like the rays of heat from
stove, with steady motion. "You have the
secret. You saw me in the box tonight"
His agony-strained fingers, still clutching
the knife, had quivered up above his head
and with sudden twist he jerked the whole
force of his body behind the blade and
crashed it down upon his adversary. Be
fore Poe could pull the trigger a large wo-
man leaped on him from behind with
bestial snarl and bowled him to the floor,
the knife hurting into the closet from
which the woman had burst forth unnoticed
In the struggle that followed, the French
pair fought ike savages, Poe's revolver was
kicked from his hand, and Torche suddenly
leaped after it, giving Poe the chance to
twist from beneath the woman with a
wrestling trick and dash through the door
to the head of the stairs, where Torche had
stopped to pick up the revolver.
Before Poe could grasp Torche the wo-
man hurled herself upon him again, and in
the turmoil that followed the STOPPING
Torche lost his balance and hurtled down
the rickety fight of steps; near the bottom
the body crashed through the rotten rail
and Poe trembled at the sound of an
agonizing scream, as the man slipped
through the opening between the balus-
trades and dropped with kicking clatter to
the main floor, four stories below. The
woman stifened up and released her hold
on Poe as she listened in awful silence, the
muscles in her face stretched tense with
horror.
In that instant Poe recognized her as an
Apache, dyed in criminality, whom he had
encountered before.
She returned to the fight like lioness,
but Poe managed to skilfully bind her
ankles and wrists with the cord torn from
her dressing gown.
He left her struggling on the door-sill,
"L'dia6Ie Poe!" and snatching at
the cord with her teeth.
She wriggled through the doorway into
the room and struggled toward one corner,
kissing vile oaths at Poe meantime, who
stood with his arms folded, watching her
direction intently.
Finding that she was surely edging to-
ward rickety desk in the corner, Poe antic-
ipated her effort, stepped to the crazy piece
of furniture and picked up several articles,
one after another, the woman watching
him with greedy, cat-like eyes.
Suddenly his hand encountered long
stemmed, deep-bowled clay pipe, filed with
fresh tobacco. A hiss of pent-up breath
greeted his movement and he turned with
keen look at the woman. Her face had be-
come as stone, and not a single feature be-
trayed her.
Christopher Poe smiled, dropped the
pipe into a loose outside pocket with salts
faction in his manner, busted his clothes,
raised his hat to the woman who had sud-
denly slunped into sobbing bundle, and
Goodnight, Mignon; the po-
lice will call upon you soon"
Poe felt his way down the long, dark stair
way. The whole house had been raised by
Torches plunge and Poe found three ex-
cited members of the ge'sdGrmeyie admins
tering first aid. They stopped long enough
to seize him as a stranger, at the advice of
the regular dodgers in the house; but Poe
only smiled, turned back Torches left
trousers leg, showed the astonished police i;
the big trick rat, still warm, but dead, in
4 cleverly-contrived pocket, its home,
where it had remained until the end.
After a few significant sentences whis- {
oered to the policeman in command, Poe
was allowed to depart and enter the waiting !