The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-10-08

} hours. Dfsmounting, he handed the ' reins to an orderly, lighted a cigar and strolled little way up the road. No ticing the recent tracks of two auto mobiles, he was surprised on coming !, to the place where they had stopped and turned. There seemed to be no , reason why cars should visit that deso- , late spot, so he examined the ground with some curiosity.
 } As it happened, he had some experi- ence of Indian warfare, and his train ed eyes soon detected signs in the bro- ken reeds and crushed grass which h. dicated that a numerous party had gone off into the marsh while taking every precaution to obliterate their tracks. Unfortunately, he did not summon his men, but continued the investigation alone.
 Soon he found himself staring at an abandoned house, and there could be no doubt that the trail led in that di- rection. Though consumed with curi- osity, he suspected no real danger Why should he? Why should any off, cer of the United States army guess that his life was in peril merely be- NduSt UC tuOSc lO luf6SLlRdLe buc0 A slight yet bewildering circumstance as the presence of a muf1ed trail across New Jersey marsh?
 Wholly unknown to Captain Down. ing, however, stealthy eyes were watching him from the brushwood. Before he had the least realization of danger he was bounced on, choked brutally and dragged into an evil smell ing passage, whence he emerged in the presence of Ali Singh.
 The astounded prisoner fancied he had tumbied headlong into some scene from "The Arabian Nights" He was faced by a tall and imperious person age attired in rich garments of eastern , fashion. His captors were men whose language and dress suggested the Can ton Bazaar rather than a bleak patch of New Jersey. And, most amazing thing of all, he personally seemed to , be an object of common hate merely because he wore the honored uniform of his country.
 "Who are you?" demanded All Singh scornfully.
 "If you want to know my name'- , began Captain Downing. Perhaps it was an idle question" said the other, with bitter and cyn- ical smile. What does it matter to me whether you are captain or pri- vate? You are my enemy, and that suff1ces. You, as well as another, will serve my purpose. I shall take care that your employers learn your fate" Without another word Ali Singh strode close to the astounded prisoner and began to tear off the insignia of his rank and the buttons of his uni form. Too amazed at first to resist
 the soldiers spirit soon refused to sub- init to such indignities. He wrenched
 himself free and endeavored to deal this madman a knockdown blow.
 But the effort was in vain. A dozen hands grasped his arms and legs. his sword and revolver were snatched
 from him, and he was thrust into an underground chamber similar to that occupied by the three girls.
 When his prolonged absence led to uneasiness the men of his company searched the road and adjacent swamps. Naturally, they went too far at first. When it became evident that they must SCOUT the land at point nearer to their halting place daylight was failing, and it was wholly impos- sible to detect any footprints which might have led them to their leaders prison house.
 r So Ali Singh now had four captives in his hands One was doomed to death. The others might according to l h I@o I~&JI@ l~I<A
 kept in vile durance to act as pawns in the amazing game he was playing with the government of the United States.
 After wretched night Willard Bron- son awoke to new day of misery and foreboding. His first care was to ask Manning and the butler if there was any news.
 No; nothing had been heard from Kemp, and from him alone might any definite tidings be looked for.
 Bronson returned to his room and began to dress. Then he noticed let ter on the table. It had not been there the night before, and the handwriting, which set forth his own name. was strange to his eyes. Confronted by such a mysterious missive, man in- stinctively looks around as though to learn it's source, and Bronson then saw that window pane had been re- moved. obviously to permit some one to thrust back the bolt and raise the
 window. 7 He tore open the envelope. A sheet of note paper bore in ink in a mans caiigraphy the foliow1ng wrds: . Willard Bronson-My hand has reached : out to London. THE HIGHER ONE. Beneath was a crudely drawn cres- cent, and the young banker was only ] too well aware of the significance of that ominous sig1.
 He rushed into Manning's room. and together the two examined note and 2 envelope. The butler was summoned = merely as matter of precaution, but
 he, of course, knew nothing of the ' note.
 :, , They were still discussing it-each u man dreading to voice the horrible sig
 nifcance of the threat-when a cable , gram was delivered at the house. It was addressed to Willard Bronson from [ London and containaG the terrible mes sage: