New Mexico state record. (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1914-19??, 1918-12-27

already occupied. As she peered int,
Its darkened interior, the shadow re
solved itself into a cloaked and maske'
figure. She shrank back.
"Enter, madame" said a voice.
The figure appalled, her. 1t was no
sufficient to know that behind tn
horrifying mask which covered the en-
tire face and head. there was a hu
man figure, human pulses that beat
human eyes that appraised her. Sh'
hesitated.
Quickly" said the voice.
She got in, shrinking into a cornei
OF the carriage. Her lips were dry
the roaring Of terror was in her ears
The door closed.
Then commenced n drive Of which
afterward the countess dared moi
think. The figure neither moved mol
spoke. Inside the carriage relgned thu
most complete silence. Then the car
riage stopped, and at last the shroudet
figure moved and spoke.
I regret, countess, that my orders
are to blindfold you"
She submitted ungracefully, while
he bound a black cloth over her eyes
lie drew 1t very close and knotted II
behind. In the act his fingers touched
her face, and she felt them cold and
clammy. The contact sickened her.
"Your hand, madame"
She was led out Of the carriage, and
across soft earth, a devious curse
again, as though they avoided small
obstacles. Once her foot touched
something low and hard, like marble.
Again, in the darkness, they stumbled
over n mound. She knew where she
was, then-in Il graveyard. But
which? There were many about the
city.
An open space, the opening Of a
gate or door that squeaked softly, a
flight of steps that led downward, and
n breath of musty, cold air, damp and
cellnrlike.
At last, still in unbroken silence. she
knew that they had entered n large
space. Their footsteps no longer
echoed and reechoed. Her guide
walked more slowly, and at last paus-
ed, releasing her hand. She felt again
the touch of his clammy fingers as he
united the knots Of her bandages. He
took it off.
At first she could see little. When
her eyes grew accustomed, she made
out the scene slowly.
A great stone vault, its walls
broken into crypts which had con-
tanned caskets Of the dead. But the
caskets had been removed, and vert
piled In a corner, and In the inches
were rifles. In the center was a pine
table, %curiously incongruous, and on
it writing materials, a cheap clock,
and q pile Of documents. There were
two candles only, and these were stuck
in skulls-old brown skulls so infinite
ly removed from all semblance to the
human that they were not even hOr-
rible. 1t was as If they had been used,
not to inspire terror, but because they
were at hand and convenient for the
purpose. In the shadow, ranged in a
scmicircle, were nine figures, all mo-
tionless, all masked, and clOaked in
black. They sat, another %incongruity,
on plain wooden chairs. But In spite
of that they were figures Of dread.
The one who had brought her made
the tenth.
Had she not known the past record
Of the men before her, the rather opera
bouffe setting with which they lose
to surround themselves might have
aroused her scorn. But Olga Loschek
knew too much. She guessed shrewd-
ly that, with the class Of men with
whom they dealt, it was not enough
that their name spelled terror. They
must visualize it. They had taken
heir cue from that very church, in
deed, beneath which they hid. The
church, with Its shrines and images,
appealed to the eye. They, too, ap-
pealed to the eye. Their masks. the
carefully constructed and upheld
mystery of their identity. the trappinss
of death about them-it was skillfully
done.
Still no one spoke. The countess
faced then. Only her eyes showed
her nervousness; she stood haughtily,
her head held high. But like most
women, she could not endure silence
for long, at least the silence of
shrouded figures and intent eyes.
sGNau chat nm, aHA L. "
handed, may / ask why I have bees
summoned?"
1t was Number Seven who replied.
1t was Number Seven who, during the
hour that followed, spoke for the 9TH
ers. None moved, or but slightly.
Evidently all had been carefully pre-
arranged.
Look on the table, countess. You
will find there some papers you will
perhaps recognize"
She took q step toward the table
and glanced down. The code book
lay there. Also the letter she had sent
by Peter Niburg. She made no effort
to disclaim them.
II recognize them" she said clear
ly.
"Do you realize what will happen,
madame, II these papers are turned
Over to the authorities?"
She shrugged her shoulders. And
Number Seven rose, a tall figure
Of mystery, and spoke at length in a
cultivated, softly intOned voice. The
countess, listening, felt the voice
familiar, as were the burning
eyes behind the mask.
1T is our hope, madame" he said,
that you will make 1t unnecessary
FOR tho romnaittao af ION a. =. H.