Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1916-03-24

Wnen, III swirl HdSn OF lHLu1IlOu, no
examined his fingers. he discovered
thereon a 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
hollow-ground blade-and it was foul
with blood.
With low cry suddenly smitten
with understanding, Lanyard wheeled
and stared fearfully at the door com
municating with Roddys 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 door-darkness- silence.
Musterii all his courage, the ad-
venturer strobe determinedly into the
adjoining room
The first flash of his hand lamp dis
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 Ian
| 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
had melted out to the Packs agent.
In was his dressing gown that was
saturated with Roddy's blood, just as
those were his gloves, pilfered from
his luggage. which had measurably
protected the killers hands, and which
/ T IN oa
stripped hastily off and thrown to the
| floor, twin crumpled wads of blood
stained chamois skin.
He had now little choice; he must
either fee Paris and rely on his wits
to save him, or else seek De Morbihan
and trust to his protection, to his in
| fluence 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 negotiable 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 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
distinguished figure.
Before rising he turned out the
| pockets of this casual double. But
this profited him little-quite evident
| ~ 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 stir lather. stropped another razor
to the finest edge he could manage,
fetched a pair OF keen scissors from
his dressing case. and went back to
| the murderer.
| He worked rapidly, at a high pitch
Of excitement much through sheer
desperation as through any appeal In
heyent in his scheme. either to his