The Washington herald., 1916-09-03
STAIN MYSTERY
PAYSON TERE

The third was issuing directions for the
murder.
ITS Mr.. Hanna!" gasped Florence
THE great real estate operator up here
recognize his profile. They're killing
him. He"
Quick commanded Harold, shaking
Of his momentary daze of horror. I'VE
met a policeman on the block below. Run
back and get him. Quick!'
He sprang away from her. vaulted the
street hedge and crossed the narrow
strip OF lawn at a bound. With clenched
fist he smote the heavy plate glass pane
Of the window. The pane mashed in. AS
he leaped upward into the jagged OPEN
ing Harold saw the silhouette of the
third man dart away to one side Of tho
room. The next instant the lights were
switched OF.
In through the broken window Harold
thrust his body, needless of the splinter
ed glass that cut at his hands and face
and rent his clothes.
As he set foot inside the pitch-dark
room a pocket flashlights rays smote
blindingly athwart his eyebalis. At the
same instant Harold's cropping hand came
in contact with flimsy gilt chair. With
all his might he hurled this Ineffective
missile at the white lens of the spotlight
The pocket lamp fell to the ground as
though knocked from its holders hand
by the force of the chairs impact.
Almost at once Stanley's outfiung arm
brushed against the shoulder OF a man
who was stealing up toward him through
the dense blackness.
Harold sprang in and grappled the un-
seen foe. The latter was a strong and
active man, and fought with the fury OF
a cornered beast.
But it was not in vain that Harold
Stanley had been accounted one of the
most formidable tackles" of his day.
Against his swift skill the others mere
brute strength was OF little more avail
than would have been child's. There
was no scope for judging the distance or
the exact direction of blow. So Harold
forced himself to wrestle instead OF hit
ting out.
In less than five seconds Of blind strug-
gle he found the hold he sought One
tremendous heave and he had swung his
invisible enemy clear of the ficor and high
in air. A second heave and the murderer
went whirling through the room, bring
ing up with rtb-crushlng impact against
the farther wall.
Harold, painting from his exertion, spun
about, with arms expanded, to grope for
the second ASSASSIN. As he did so his
foot struck the lnertly quivering body Of
a man who lay sprawling on the floor in
front of him.
With thrill OF revulsion Harold rea-
lized he had stumbled over the corpse of
strangled Hanna. He sought to recover
his balance with deft turn of his Shout
Gers and a backward swing OF his out
stretched arms.
And some one seized him from behind.
A set Of long, ice-cold fingers wrapped
lar neck. seeking and Immediately finding
Q
| thumbs began to press deep into the
top Of his spine, directly below the base
OF the brain.
When the stunning effect OF the blow
passed he opened his eyes to find the
room alight and full OF people.
Florence Montrose and policeman
were bending over him. Servants and
passers-by, attracted by the noise OF bat
tie, were thronging in. Harold started
up, but he swayed weakly from side to
side. and would have fallen again but for
the policeman's supporting arm. On the
foor in front of him lay Hanna's dead
body
The room was wrecked by the battle
Furniture was everywhere overturned.
Rugs were in a snarl
But the two murderers were gone. And
the wide open door Of the ransacked safe
proved that they had not escaped empty
handed
He drew the terrified girl from the
room as he spoke and led her down the
hall to the front door. On the threshold
they almost cOllided with a man who
was coming in. The newcomer and Har-
old recognized each other at a glance,
even in that dim light.
Hello. Parrish" said Harold, not over
cordially.
Good evening, Mr.. Stanley" returned
the detective. They told me at the sta
ton that there's been another Crimson
Stain crime. Is"
Yes" answered Harold That means
the fifteenth in four months"
This one is like all the rest, 1 sup
pose" hazarded Parrish. "Choked to
death and no clew."
No" contradicted Harold, with sud
den elation, there is a clew, this time.
A real one. I've felt the murderer's hands
around my own throat And I've seen his
eyes. And" he continued, impressiveIy,
Il know why old Mr.. BeaujolaIs spoke OF
Crimson Stain I've seen that stain. -
"What?'' cried both Parrish and Flor
ence in a single breath.
AS l climbed into the front window, -
said Harold. He switched of the light
But he turned an electric nash-lamp on
me. The glare dazzled me and left him
Invisible. I threw a chair at the light and
knocked It out of his hand. As II fell
before the jar OF hitting the floor released
the battery-catch and put out the light
its rays fell for q fraction OF a second on
the upper part of his face"
You recognized him. cried Parrish.
No. He was no one I had ever seen
m not sure I'd recognize the face again
But ia recognise the eyes anywhere on
earth"
Recognize the eyes and not the facet
What do you meanr'
The eyes are red" answered Stanley
"A hcry crimson. AS IL they had been
stained with blood. l believe that is what
Beaujolais meant by the Crimson Stain.
He saw
"RotF sneered Parrish. breaking into
q roar of noisily derisivs laughter, That's
the way with you smateurs-always
imagining things and hunting up fancy
clews. Crimson-stained eyes, hey7 And
You saw all that in the time It took a
nashught ray to fit across his face? It's
the silliest drivel l ever heard"
Probably" assented Harold, adding:
The police would have a verv Mica 90 M