Evening star., 1927-03-30

d out, didn't he? You've been IN.
ulting him again. ! understand.
lossdick's pencil ripped an entire
paragraph out of the copy before nln. |
What's biting you this morning?
Nothing" said the Phantom. biand-
v Just thought you might like TO
snow there's been another murder at
he Gage house.
The slashings of SlossdicS's pench
~eased abruptly. He swept the Phah-
~oms face with a quick, searcnlhs
glance Briefly the, imposter toid as
much as he thought prudent, describ-
ing the scene in the storeroom ana at
the head of the stairs. without telling
Of his own part in the nights events or
of Pino's mysterious conduct. He was
not yet ready to accuse the policeman
openly. and for the present it suited
his purpose to leave the affair vague
and mysterious.
There was a flicker of interest in
Slossdick's eyes. "Housekeeper muir
dered and policeman lying at the head
of the stairs handcuffed to dope. Rat
Ting good yarn, Granger But"-and
look of doubt crept into his face
we've had nothing from the police on
this.
Good reason The police didn't
you hurry, you will beat the other
papers to it,"
Slossdick snatched up the telephone
and called a department.. First page
make-over,' he snapped when the con
nectiOn had been established. Then,
turning to the Phantom, "Think you
can see the typewriter keys this morn
ing?"
The Phantom quavered inwardly.
TypeWriting was not among his ac-
complishments, and the entire pro-
ceeding was strange to him. He heSi-
tated, noticing that the rumble of the
presses had already ceased.
Well, never mind" grun1bled Sloss-
dick, his pencil already at work on an
eight column caption. Give the dope
to Fessenden and let him write it.
Then go home and get some sleep.
You look as if you needed it. And for
the love of Mike, steer clear of the
booze, Fessenden,"
In response to the explosive shout,
a lanky and dyspeptic looking man ap-
peared at the door of the cubby-hoe.
After receiving few terse directions
from Slossdick, he led the Phantom to
his desk and sat down before his type
writer. He inserted a sheet of paper
in the machine while listening, and
his fingers were racing over the keys
even before the Phantom had finished
his recital
Bully yarn you've turned up"
came his appreciative comment over
the clatter Of the keys. "A peach"'
The Phantom walked away. The
story would, of course, rouse another
storm OF indignation against himself,
but there was no help for that. On
the whole, he had bettered his chances
and enhanced his temporary safety by
giving the Sphere a start of 20 min
utes or half an hour in it's race against
competing newspapers.
His shadow was nowhere in sight as
he emerged from the building. Either
the mans suspicious had been dis
armed by the Phantom $ move, or else
he had grown tired of waiting and
dropped into nearby restaurant for
bite of food. Standing at the curb,
the Phantom glanced steathily to right
and left. There was no sign of espion
age in either direction. At last he was
free to begin his search for Helen
Hardwick, but the trail seemed to have.
neither beginning nor end. In vain he
searched his mind for a starting point.
His hands were in his pockets and
presently his absently cropping fingers
touched piece of paper. He drew it
out, starting as his eyes fell on the
ducal coronet.
Guess I'll see Granger" he re-
fected. II have a strong hunch he is
my starting point"
4 X
low is your guest, Peng Yuen?"
was the Phantom's first ques-
tion after entering the shop on Pell
street.
The Chinaman's eyes Widened. 1.-THE
guest? All, yes, l remember. / think
the gentleman is we'll"