The interior journal. [volume] (Stanford, Ky.) 1912-1984, 1916-03-31

gering into the nav of the open vault,
and with a throaty and beastlfke cry
o. triumph swung the great steel door
shut, even as the partly-dressed Will
son ran gaping in through the library
door. Yet Legar took time to throw
back the tumbler lever and spin the
dial before turning to confront that
wide-eyed servant. Then, hearing
other approaching steps, he dove
through the second door, scurried like
pelted hound through shadowy
rooms. slipped eel-like through a
quickly opened window and escaped
to the street.
There he ran for dark-bodied car
standing in the deep tree shadows,
and with a gasp of relief flung himself
up into the cushioned seat
As he did so a masked figure sitting
crouched close back in the hooded
/ gloom OF that seat suddenly threw out
hand and garroted the startled Le-
gar against the leather upholstery. on
which he began to writhe like a cater
pillar on cabinet pin. But with an
equally def second movement the
man in the yellow mask snatched the
oblong MANILA paper from his oDoo-
uelt's hand.
This, blandly announced the man
of mystery as his garroting fingers re-
| Taxed and he stepped down to the run
ming board, lis one of the rare mo-
ments when l have the pleasure Of
trumping your ace!"
And the all but apoplectic Legar lay
back gasping for breath as that stran-
! ger dropped lightly from the speeding
car and vanished shadOwlike into the
night.
At the home of Enoch Golden, in the
meantime, the terrified Wilson had re-
gained both his feet, his presence OF
mind and a presentable portion of his
dignity. His frantic shouts for help
had brought the rest of the servants
flocking to the library, and his equally
frantic efforts to describe what had
taken place did not add to the peace
of that little group from below stairs.
Il tell you. Tibbins, Miss Margory's
locked in that vault. and there's no
one in the 'ouse as knows 'ow to open
| it,"
Cries of horror burst from that sud-
denly arrested circle.
Someone telephone for the policei"
cried the second man, as Wilson
shouldered out through the group
swarming and gesticulating about the
vault door. Yes, the police,"
He had the instrument in his shak-
ing hand when the door opened and
David Manley stepped quickly in, with
Tito. the green-bodied parrot, on mis-
arm.
What's wrong here?" was the new
comer's sharp demand.
Its Miss Margory. sir" began the
quavering-voiced butler.
We'll, what about Miss Margory?"
She's locked in that vault, sir, and
no one in the 'ouse knows the combi-
nationI"
Good God!" cried Manley, sudden-i
ly transixed. Then he ran to the
vault door. fiinging the others aside.
F1inging off his coat, he bent over
the dial. The silent group circled
about hirn. And still he worked,
worked with every nerve on edge.
every sense alert, for time, he knew.
was preciSus.
Il said silence there," he called
out sharply, for his whole mind was
directed to the faint click of metal
against metal in front CT him. But
louder than before the green-bodied
bird on it's broken perch repeated its
cry.
''Twenty-one - thirty-fo-ty-two-
sixty" was the shrill and monotonous
cry of the parrot, with one eye cooked
ceilingward
Manley suddenly wheeled about
What in Gods name does that par
rot mean? Wait! . II is
it must be"-But instead of finishing
that declaration he repeated the
birds cry. 'Twenty-one, thirty. forty
| two, sixty
| In the next breath he was facing the
vault door, with his trembling fingers
turning and spinning the glimmering
dial
Then, without breathing, and with
colorless face, mis- hand grasped the
tumbler lever. And not one of that
group moved as he put on that lever
the pressure that would tell the tale.
1t was Celestine the parlor maid
who indorsed her Latin temperament
by falling back in a dead faint as the
metal door swung open But no one,
at that moment, was thinking of Celes-
] tine.
Its all right" Manley called from
the darkness of the inner vault She's
alive-sheIl be around in a minute
only somebody get some water!"
(To Be Continued.)