The Washington herald., 1916-09-03
CHAPTER 1.
THE BRAND OF SATAN.

ratlon.)
The big Montrose house at Riverdale
seemed to have awakened from a long
toze of gloom. For six months 1t had
been shattered and all but deserted. Now
its blinds were up. There were fresh
flowers in the window bowls and on the
deep veranda. There were new life and
gayety to the very atmosphere Of the
place.
For half year DR.. Montrose had
dwelt here alone, except for his SILENT
footed assistant, Felix. Here. day and
night. the doctor had toiled in his laoo-
ratory, tireIessly perfecting the expert
ments to which he had devoted himself
since his wife's death. He had refused
all invitations, denied himself to all Wis
itors. shut up all of his great house ex-
cept the laboratory wing.
But now, in a breath, everything was
changed. Florence. his 1s-year-old
daughter. had come home from a six
month visit to a school chum in the
West, and instantly her bright presence
had restored the old house to its former
brightness
It was in the early evening of the
third day after F'lorence's return to
Riverdale. She was sitting alone on
the veranda. when a man turned in at
the gate and came hurrying up the long
walk toward the house. Florence's face
aushed with genuine pleasure at sight
OF the visitor as he moved forward
through the early summer twilight
He was above middle height, graceful
Of figure and bearing. and wondrous
good to look upon His easy stride and
the pose of his mighty shoulders pro-
claimed the athlete, even as the broad
forehead and full eyes denoted the
thinker and the firm-molded jaw the man
of action.
Florence ran down the steps to greet
him.
AT last you have come" she eagerly
exclaimed. Il had thought Harold Stan
ley had forgotten his schoolgirl friend
in his busy career OF doing nothing
Doing nothing he pouted. I'm the
busiest little citizen in a burg OF 100000
people"
You certainly do surprise me. Why
arr you working: Has your father cast
you OFF,
No He's cast me on. On to the
pay roll of the New York Examiner. l
have been there five months a cub
reporter. When l finished college dad
had a real Dutch uncle talk with me.
Among several hundred other remarks
OF general interest he said TO me: son,
I've spent thirty years in building up the
Examiner | bought it when it was down
and out. I've made 1t the most powerful
newSpa per in New YOrk-perhsps in
America. l did it for the sake Of my
CBIy son. Now my only son can either
bt Il lOafer and squander the money
I've earned or else he can take on his
coat and pitch in and learn the business
from the bottom up and make himself
ut to carry on this great work when 7
am dead. Which shall it be? I leave
the choice to you. So ! pitched in. II
seemed the only thing for a white man
TO do
Good for youT' applauded Florence.
Il think it's fine of you"
This particular reporter" he answered,
has been spending most Of his time,
lately, in running his feet Or, chasing
false clues on the Crimson Stain Mys-
terry"
''The-the WHAT" she queried. r
The Crimson Stain Mystery" he re-
peated.
What on earth is the Crimson Stain
Mystery? 1t has a grewsome sound"
1T Is grewsome," Harold assured her.
''It is the most battling and most
atrocious crime mystery that ever baked
the New York police"
What is IT," she persisted.
Here's the story in Just a mouthful of
words" he explained. -Four months ago
CYRUS Q. Ferrand-the banker. you know
was found murdered in his study. His
safe was looted. and the murderer got
clean away. The autopsy showed Fer
rand had been choked to DEATH
How horrible."
The odd feature OF the case" went on
Harold. was the way he had been chok-
ed. The marks on his throat showed
that the murderer's hands were long and
slender and abnormaIly strong. Also, that
his grip was one known to the jIu jitsu
experts of Japan and to the Apaches
of Paris. 1t is a peculiar hold 1t
paralyLes the victims spinal cord and
makes him helpless to resist; even while
his breath Is being shut OF. It is grip
that not one "strong-arm man" in ten
thousand knows anything about At
least not in America
But, don't the police
The police worked on the case for
all they were worth. But they couldn't
find thing. Parr:sh-he's the great IN
ternational detective that the city has
hired to clear up this case-spent days
in trying to get at a clew. but"
spent days on it7" she Interposed-
why not weeks or months2 Surely
II was worth that much trouble. Why
did he stop at days.
Because" replied Harold, mine days
later Marcus Krug, the big jeweler. was
found murdered In exactly the same way,
in his private office at the back Of his
store The office safe, full of Jewels,
was cleaned out. The same queer throat
grip that had killed Ferrand had
strangled Krug. And again the killer got
safely away"
Two such murder. in New York
in four months?" she murmured. with
a shudder. And no one brought to
justice! It doesn't seem possibler
Two such murders?' he said In sud
den vehemence. mo. Not two. Four
teen"
"FourteenT' she sasped.
Fourteen" he repeated. During the
last four months no less than fourteen
men of wealth in New York have been
found strangled by just that weird throat
grip. And in every case the murderer
has escaped with his plumber"
And no clew?''
Yes and no. One clew, perhaps, but
such a fantastic clew that we can't get
sny sense out OF IT.
What II isr'
when old Raoul BeaujoIais, the res
taurant man, was killed his brother
found him moment or two before he
was quite dead The murderer had been
frightened away. As Beaujolais died he
managed to pant out the words Crimson
stainH That was all. Just those two