The interior journal. [volume] (Stanford, Ky.) 1912-1984, 1916-04-14
The Interior Journal Stanford Kentucky: Friday April H. 1916

| that all his vague suspicious OF the
| past week had been only too well
| founded. And he wasted no words on
| argument.
He leaped to that startled figure,
| thrust his automatic against th0ewaist-
line of the service coat and command
ed Wrench to back up against the wall.
AS he did so a sudden shout sounded
| from the doorway behind him and in
stinctively he glanced about to ascer-
tain the meaning of this shout.
| Wrench, seeing his chance, knocked
side and sprang bodily on Manley. As
he did so an unexpected and strangely
mantled figure glided into the narrow
room. 1t was a figure wrapped and
hooded in heavy velour and only a sec
Ond glance at its strange coveries
would have revealed the fact that it
was a portiere quickly torn from it's
fastenings and improvised into a
mask to conceal it's wearer's identity.
But Manley, as he fought with Wrench.
had small time to register this fact, or
the further fact that a rent had been
made in the pOrtiere to serve as an
| eye-hole for the head which it so COM
| pletely covered.
1t was not until that hooded figure
| had Joined in the contest that Manley
| became aware of the second portiere
which his newer opponent carried. For
| this portiere was deftly thrown over
the young secretary's head and sudden
ly drawn tight about his arms. The
white-faced and struggling footman.
realizing that his final chance had
come, promptly took advantage of Man
ley's momentary helplessness to fall
back, leap for the open door and make
good his escape.
| Manley himself, maddened by the
thought of that culprit's escape, swung
about on his hooded assailant with a
| fury that sent the latter also retreat
ing towards the hall. That unknown
| enemy even sought to escape as his
| colleague had done, but at the stair
| head Manley overlook him. Together
| they went down the stairs, a tangle of
| limbs and striking fists and portiere
ends. They fought and rolled along the
lower doorway, fought until Maniey
| had freed himself from the others
clutch and was struggling to tear the
| drapery from about his mysterious en-
emy's head. But that enemy, fran
| tically bent on remaining unknown,
| fought back with an added fury which
brought the two swaying and clinging
| bodies full force against the stair
| railing. That railing, under the strain,
suddenly gave way. Manley, clinging
desperately to the portiere folds, felt
that voluminous drapery follow after
him as he fell gasping over the well Of
| the stairs.
He fell sprawling, tangled up in
many yards of velour, and landed on
the covering head and shoulders of the
astounded Wilson, who, at that sudden
assault, promptly and vociferously
shouted for help.
When Manley, stunned for a minute
or two by the fall, once more opened
his eyes and blinked inquiringly about
him, he saw both Golden and his wife
and Margery herself clustered at his
side.
did you get him?" he demanded.
Get whom?" asked Enoch Golden.
THAT murderous blackleg, Da Els
pares!" was Manley's reply.
But Count da Espares has nothing
to do with this" protested the girl,
with frown of bewilderment. He's
only been helping US, as he always
helped us!"
"As he always helped your" scoffed
the incredulous Manley.
Eyes, as he will tell you himself"
For at that moment, suave and smil-
ing, the count Joined the wondering
circle.
"Ah, monsieur, keep watch above,
as you ask" he explained with shrug.
But nozzing happen. / see nobody.
| Then, mon dieu, l hear the tumult,
and come down to you. But cannot
| comprehend. So tell me, monsieur, /
beg, what has happen?"
Manley rose stifiy and slowly to his
| feet.
You don't understand" he asked
as his fixed stare met the mildly ques-
tioning eyes of the count.
| mo, monsieur" was the others
softly spoken answer, as he still gazed
with solemn wonder into the scoffing
face of the American.
But what do you mean by this, any
way, Manley?" demanded Enoch
Golden.
"Oh, guess he's merely the guy
that put the Laugh in the Laughing
Mask" was Manley's embittered yet
ohigmatic retort.
| (TO BE CONTINUED.)