The Odanah star. [volume] (Odanah, Ashland Co., Wis.) 1912-1916, 1916-03-25

TO HHu IL camp anu nedfy III MS II jp,
sodden with viscid moisture. And
when, in a swift flash of intuition. he
examined his fingers, he discovered
thereon faint discoloration-a red
dish stain.
Then the shape of an object on the
floor near his feet arrested Lanyard's
questioning vision. HE stared, incred-
ulous, moved forward, bent over, and
picked it up, clipping it gingerly be-
tween his fingers.
1t was one Of his razors-a heavy,
hollowground blade-and it was foul
with blood.
With a low cry, suddenly smitten
with understanding, Lanyard wheeled
and stared fearfully at the door COM
municating with Roddy's room.
1t stood ajar, an inch or so, its spin
tered lock accounted for by small
but extremely efficient steel Jimmy
which lay near the threshold.
Beyond the -darkness--silence
Mastering all his courage, the ad
venturer strobe determinedly into the
ADJOINING room.
The first fash of his hand-lamp dis
covered to him sickening justification
for his apprehensions.
After moment he returned, shut
the door, and set his back against it,
as if to bar out that reeking shambles.
He was very pale, his face drawn
with horror, and he was shaken with
nausea.
Now he knew why his dressing
gown had been reGuisitioned-to pro-
tect a butchers clothing.
The plot was damnably patent
Roddy, somehow a menace to the
Pack, required elimination; not only
had his murder been decreed, but that
the blame for it should be laid at Lam
yards door Hence the attempt to
drug him that he might not escape be-
fore the police could be sent to find
him there.
Lanyard could no longer doubt that
De Morbihan had been left behind at
the Circle of Friends of Harmony
solely to detain him, afford Smith time
to finish his hideous job, and set the
trap for the second victim.
And the plot had succeeded despite
it's partial failure, despite the swift
reverse chance and Lanyard's cunning
In was his dressing gown that was
saturated with Roddy's blood, ju~t as
those were his gloves, pilfered from
his luggage, which had measuranly
protected the killers hands, and which
Lanyard had found in the next room,
stripped hastily off and thrown to the
floor, twin crumpled wads of blood
stained channels skin.
He had now little choice; he must
either flee Paris and rely on his wits
to save him, or else seek De Morbihan
and trust to his protection, to his in
fuence in high quarters.
He must and would find another
way; but his decision was frightfully
hampered by lack of ready money, the
few odd francs in his pocket were no
store for the war chest demanded by
this emergency.
True, he had the Omber jewels; but
they were not egotiable-not, at
least, in Paris.
And the Huysman plans?
He pondered briefly the possibilities
Of the Huysman plans.
In his fretting, pacing softly to and
fro, at each turn he passed his dress
ing table, and, CHANGING once to OBJ
serve himself in the mirror, he
stopped short, thunderstruck by some
thing he thought to detect in that
counterfeit presentment of his coun-
tenance, heavy with fatigue as it was,
and haggard with contemplation OF
this appalling contretemps.
And instantly he was back beside
the American, studying narrowly the
contours of that livid mask. Here,
then, was that resemblance that had
baffled him; and now that he saw 1t
he could not deny that it was unfiat-
| teringly close-feature for feature the
| face of the murderer reproduced his
face: coarsened, perhaps, but recog-
nizably a replica of that Michael Lam
yard who confronted him every morn
| ing in his shaving glass, almost the
only difference residing in the scrubby
| black mustache that Swallowed the
Americans upper lip.
After all, nothing wonderful in this;
| Lanyard's type was not uncommon;
he would never have thought himself
| n 7;c+;,o,,ichnd figure
Before rising he turned out the
pockets of this casual double. But
this profited him little-quite evident
ly the assassin had dressed for action
with forethought to evade recognition
| in event of accident.
With this harvest of nothing for his
pains Lanyard turned again to the
! washstand and his shaving kit, mixed
a stiff lather, stropped another razor
to the finest edge he could manage,
fetched pair Of keen scissors from
his dressing case, and went back to
| the murderer.
| He worked rapidly, at high pitch
az excitement-as much through sheer