The Pensacola journal., 1922-12-24

TO stand out as 1InneQl&CGly vital
now--to get those things-that
money and those rubies. He had
staked everything on the hope that
some day he could hand over to
justice both the proceeds of that
crime and the murderer as we'll
hand them over together, as a com
plete vindication of his own name
and even now, in this hour that
seemed blacklist of all, he still
dared to cling to that hope. He
knew who the murderer was, and
he had already recovered a large
share of what had been stolen. He
still hoped to. find the murderer,
and he still hoped to find the re-
mainder of those rubies, and so
carry out his original plan. His
jaws locked. His mind was made
up, He would go! And, yes, he
had far better than an even chance
of getting there in time. She
would take longer to reach the
police and lead them to the den
than it would take him to reach. it
thanks to the car that, grim
irony! he had stolen on her ac-
count. Afterward his position
would be desperate enough; but
now, without an instant's- loss of
time, he had to gain the den and
get away before they trapped him
there.
He reached the car. The old
night watchman had evidently re-
tired inside the building again, for
there was no sign of the man. He
experienced a certain sense of re-
lief at this, as he cranked the OBJ
solete machine; and then he was in
the drivers seat again, and the car
was roaring along tho road. He
drove fast, with mad haste, with
reckless disregard for the ill-light
ed road. There could be no acci-
dent comparable in disaster to his
failure to put the miles behind him
swiftly enough to insure him the
few minutes leeway he asked for in
the den.
He bent over the wheel, tense,
rigid, strained. The minutes sped
away. A glimmer of hope came to
him for that "afterward." He
could use the car again; get out of
the city again before the chase got
too hot. He could certainly hide
in that way during the night, and
that would give him the night in
which to think. He had not time
to think now-only that as he drew
in toward the centre of the city he
must keep as much as possible to
the unfrequented streets, both be-
cause he must ignore such a thing
as speed laws, and be-
cause he was driving
y. a stolen car.
CHAPTER XVI.
= The Last Portal.
II lilly KANE had
= no means of
, Il know ing how
#$ long he had been,
& when he ally
leaped from the car
at the corner of the
lane on the street at
& the rear of the den.
He knew only that,
81 beyond any question
of doubt or uncer-
tainty, he had out
distanced her. With
Quick glanc e
around him to make
sure that he was not
3 observed, he slipped
3 into the lane; and in
q an instant m o e,
through the shed, and
81 the underground tun-
mel, and the secret
door that so craftily
opened on the board
q joints OF the rough
panelling, he h a d
S # gained the interior of
the den. He ran
across it, turned ON
the dangling incande-
scent over the rickety
table, and running to
the street door made
sure that it was
locked.
He turned then
pushed the bed aside
and pulled up the
plank in the flooring
that he had looseneo
once in his search fol
the secret hiding
places OF the room, anC
that had since served
him in that capacity
as a private deposi.
tory of his own. From
the aperture he lifted
out the hand bag con-
tanning the banknotes
stolen from the Ellis
worth vault, and the
red flannel sack con
tanning the rubics,
which he had torn
- from around the neck
s Of the Man with the
Crutch last night, re-
3all placed the plank, set
g~ the bed back in its
original position, and
carried the hand bag
and sack to the table
He opened the bag
tossed in the red flan.
mel sack-and stood
for an instant eyeine
the bag with a frowr
hat Sne of distrust. he re
He Faced membered that it die
not close very well
that he had bent