Evening star., 1921-09-23
BY FRANK L. PACKARD.
Copyright, 1871. by Public Ledger Co.
Copyright, 1871, BY 3. II. Davis Corp.

soul that was elemental, primal, and
he cursed now under his breath.
Murderers 80, six feet of earth
they winged him. the car. amuck;;
itself, would do their bloody work
for them Bookie Skarvan
|. some day. IL he lived through
this Bookie Skarvan it
was strange that all their shots had
| missed even II the back Of
wouldn't have many more chances
|. the woods and the turn of the
| road were just ahead now. and .
There was a crash, the splintering
of glass. and bullet shattered the
to the right Of his head. A demon
iacal yell of triumph went up from
behind. They had him now-and,
with him. one hundred thousand dol
lars! Again that grimace Of merci-
derson's lips. 1t was the psychology
ical moment. not only because that
wood was just ahead. but because. re-
aliZing that his chances were desper-
ate now. he would logically be ex-
pected to sacrifice anything-even
save himself.
Something like the flick of fiery
lash. bringing hot, burning sensation.
was laid suddenly across his leg above
the knee. 1t did not hurt very much
a bullet DETECTED probably from the
rim of the steering wheel-but they
had hit him at last. He laughed saw
agely-and snatched at the empty black
handbag. and hurled it with all his
might far out across the side Of the
road.
A chorused yell answered his act.
He looked back-and laughed again.
1t had not failed! They were stop
ping. Wolves! Again he laughed.
And like wolves with slavering fangs
they were after their prey! 1t would
give him a minute. perhaps two-but
that was enough!
The car swept on. and rounded the
turn. and the trees hlotted out the
view of the road behind. He jam
half around. full across the road. and
leaping from it. dashed in among
the trees. The foliage was thick. He
ran on. He was safe for the moment
here in the woods: and presently 1t
would be dark. and he would make
work his way east.
The roar of the gray car coming
on again at full speed reached him.
He laughed as he ran. harshly. with
now-vengeance because he had not
let them murder him! Well, he did
not mean to diSappoint them. He had
disappointed them once-with an
empty bag! He would not disappoint
them again! 1t was perfectly logical
that there should be-vengeaace.
There was hardly room to stop that
car around the turn!
A wild cry, echoed by another. and
still another. shrill in terror, sprang
OUT from the road over the roar of
the speeding car-and then a terrific
cra Sh-a acroam-Si1ence
He had stopped mechanically. The
more. 1t wasn't Raldy Vickers now.
that smash would have taken the
fight out of Baldy Vickers. If it hadn't
taken anything more-ft was the
police. He clenched his hands in
sudden. passionate fury. He was safe
from Baldy Vfckers here in the woods.
anyhow; but, for all that, he had
played and lost. He was hunted
man now. He was not whining, he
had played and lost-only he had
| played against stacked cards. The
| face of Bookie Skarvan rose before
him. and his hands clenched tighter.
He swept a knotted fist fiercely across
| his eye. What was the use Of that
now! Not now! He had something
| else besides Bookie Skarvan to think
| of now: there was the police, and
yes-his leg! 1t was burning hot, and
it hurt now. He glanced downward.
His trouser leg was soaked with
blood. His teeth gritted together
and he plunged on again through the
| woods.