Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1913-11-10
THE KING OF
DIAMONDS
BY LOUIS TRACY.
Copyright, 1904, by Edward j. Clode.)
TODAY S TNSTALLMENT.
Ib~ ANT | have a light" sad
Philip, with head screwed

< r
Philip, with head screwed
round to ascertain if the doc
tor were following him.
Some sense, whether of sight or
hearing he knew not warned him Of
movement near at hand, an impalpa
bic effort a physical tension as of
man laboring under extreme but re-
pressed excitement.
He paid little heed to it. All the
surroundings in their weird dwell ng
were so greatly at variance with his
anticipation that he partly expected
to find further surprises.
DR.. Williams did not answer Philip
advanced a hating foot, a hesitating
hanG gripping for a door.
Instantly a stout rope fell over his
shoulders, moose was tightly drawn
and he was ierked violently to the
stone floor Of the passage. file fell
prone on his face hurting his nose
and mouth The shock Jared him
| greatly, but his hands, If not his arms
| We're free and with the instinct of
| self preservation that replaces all
other sensations in moments of ex-
| IRENE peril, he strove valiantly to
rise.
But he was srasped by the neck
| with brutal force, and some one knelt
| on his neck.
Philip Arson" Missed mans
| voice, do you remember Jocky
! Mason?"
So he had fallen into a trap cum
ningly prepared by what fiendish
! combination of fact and article he
| had yet to learn. Jocky Mason. the
| stulkish criminal OF Johnson's News
| Was he in that mans power?
Under such conditions man thinks
| quickly. Philips first ordered thought
| was one of relief. He had fallen into
| the clutches of an English brigand
| Money would settle theis difficulty, if
| all other means failed.
! es, yes, he gurgled half
/ strangled by the fierce pressure on
| his throat
You hit me once from behind. You
| can't complain if | do the same. You
sent me to a living hell for ten years
NOT your fault that it wasn't for
ever. Lie still! Not all your money
| can save you now. | am judge and
jury, and hell itself. You are dynq
I-dying-dead!"
And with the final words drawled
| into his ears with bitter intensity.
| Philip felt a terrible blow descend on
| his head. There was no pain no fear
| no poignant emotion at leaving all
| the world held 50 dear to him. There
| was an awful shock. A thundercloud
| seemed to burst in his brain and he
sank into the void without a groan
Now in falling, the hard, felt hat
| he wore dropped in front of his face.
| me hrst wild movement OF his head
| Tilted ii forward, but the savage Jerk
| given by his assailant brought the
rim slightly over his skull again.
In the almost complete darkness of
the passage, Mason could not see the
| slight protection this afforded to his
| victim. and the sledge- hammer blow
he delivered with a -preserver-
| that murderous implement named 50
| utterly at variance With its purpose
did not reveal the presence of an
| obstacle
He struck with a force that would
| nave stunned an OK; it must have
| killed any man, be he the hardest
| skulled aborigine that ever breatheJ
| But the stout rim Of the hat, though
| crushed like an eggsheIl, took off
! some of the leader Instruments ire
| mendous impact. Philip, though uite
! lnsensible, was not dead His sen
| tent faculties We're anaihilated for
| the time, but his heart continued it's
| life giving functions. and he breathad
| with imperceptible futterings.