The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-07-23

from many different points in the darkness as rescuing hands set to work on the ruins.
 And out of those ruins, while this work was going on, emerged two bruised and tattered figures strangely divergent in appearances. The first figure, worming it's way out through the interstices of crumbled rock and cement, as cautiously and as silently as a wounded blacksnake might crawl from cave, bore an iron claw at the end of It's right arm and betrayed an unmistakable desire to creep away into the darkness before being ob- served.
 The second man, who, on recover ing consciousness, found himself en- caged between two fallen pillars of marble topped by one of the roof slabs, experienced no little difficulty in emerging to the open, so closely were these protecting pillars wedged about him.
 But as he worked his bruised body through that Giants Causeway of broken rock he felt grateful enough. remembering what had happened, to
 
 the body, he was even more bruised in spirit at the memory of the fact that his enemy, Jules Legar, had at the last moment escaped from his clutch.
 The Lake of Fire.
 Legar, lucky as his escape had been, knew that his margin of safety was still too narrow for much immediate comfort of either mind or body. So he crawled away as best he could, nursing his strength when he came to cover and going up again when some passing light showed that cover to be none too dense. But he did not give up until he had reached higher ground. There he was able to hide himself in a thicket and rest for an hour or two.
 But to remain in that neighborhood until morning he knew would be out of the question. About that whole suspected area, he felt, the police would surely throw cordon, and the resource of disguise was no longer at his disposal. Already from where he lay he could see dozens of moving lamps of workers about the mauso- leum ruins. He could also see the glow of a powerful pair of head lights, apparently of motor car threading it's way to the scene of the explosion. And to the north he could even more distinctly see the fiery tongues of the chimney flares above the Westingham foundry, where hundreds of toilers, turning night into day, worked about the great blast furnaces and caldrons of molten metal.
 He was once more himself, by this time, walking with a limp that was scarcely discernible. But as he stole down from the higher ground and made his way back toward the West ingham chimney flares he became once more conscious of the winter glare along the roadside he was so cautiously skirting. This, he remem- bered, as he stole nearer, came from the headlights of a stalled limousine. Then he made a second and a more startling discovery. He knew, even before he caught sight of Train work ing over his helpless car, that it be- longed to Enoch Golden. But what actually drew him closer to the spot was glimpse of Margory Golden her self, in a gray fur motor coat, as she stepped from the body of the car and came full into the glare of the head lights, closer beside her stopping chauffeur.
 Yet it was not until the girl had passed we'll out of hailing distance of the headlighted car that Legar circled even more hurriedly forward and swung in again to intercept her.
 She was trudging, little breath lessly, up a sandy slope, with her straining eyes still fixed on the nov ing lanterns about the ruined mauso- leum.
 Then, swinging apparently out of the empty air about her, a circle of steel, suddenly encompassing her arm, brought her to an abrupt stop.
 With one quick movement Legar tore the motor veil from her head, twisted it into a coil. and flung it about her neck. And all the while the Iron Claw, grappling at her arm, held her as a steel trap might.
 She was already dizzy with pain when she heard the sharp crack of a revolver shot close over her shoulder. This was followed by quick shout and a muttered oath. She felt herself forcibly flung from Legar's arms into the arms of another man panting