Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1927-04-02

hausted at the time. and his habitual
sense of caution had failed to assert
itself.
Wonder what the Phantom was up
to-" he murmured. feeling trifie un-
comfortable beneath Culligore's covert
and incessant scrutiny.
Hard telling. Lots of queer things
happen in this world" Culligore
grinned while absently toying with the
pistol For instance, this morning
after left you on the corner
You had me shadowed," interrupted
the Phantom. What was the idea,
Culiigore?"
"Just a bunch. My man trailed you
to the Sphere office. Then, thinking
you wouldn't be out for while. he
went into beanery for bite and a
cup of coffee After coming out he
hung around the entrance to the
Sphere Building for while longer,
but you didn't show up. Finally, he
went inside and inquired for you. They
told him you had left"
Culligore paused for a moment. He
was turning the pistol in his hand
with a playful air. The Phantom felt
curious tension taking hold of his
body.
They told my man." continued the
lieutenant, speaking very softly, that
you didn't write the story yourself,
but told the facts to reporter named
Fessenden. AS / understand it, they
gave Fessenden a new desk not long
ago. It's a nice-looking piece of fur
niture, with a smooth, glossy finish.
Maybe you noticed it?"
mo. not particularly" said the
Phantom, finding it a little hard to
keep his voice steady. The role he
was playing had claimed all his
thoughts while he was in the Spheres
office, and he had not noticed details.
TOO bad you didn't" Culligore was
still speaking In low. purring accents.
Gradually and without apparent in
tent, he turned the muzZle of the pistol
until it pointed to the Phantoms chest.
We'll, I understand Fessenden was
sitting at that nice, new desk while
you told him the story, and you were
sitting right beside him, with one of
the corners of the desk toward you.
Some people have habit when nerv-
Gus of drumming with their fingers on
whatever object is before them. It's
a bad habit, Granger"
The Phantom nodded. A thin smile
played about his lips and his eyes gilt
tered like tiny points of steel between
half closed lids.
Very bad habit, Granger. Well,
my man saw fingerprints on the
smooth and shiny surface of the desk,
right where you had been sitting. He
touched them up by sprinkling a
little gray powder over them, after
which they were photographed. 1t
didn't take very long to identify them.
Steady now! This little toy of mine
can be real ugly when it gets mad.
What 1 want you to explain Is how
Tommie Changers fingers happened
to leave the Gray Phantom's finger.
prints on Fessenden's desk"
There was humorous CLINT in
Lieut.. Culligore's lazy. mouse-colored
eyes as he noted the look of conster.
nation that was slowly creeping into
the Gray Phantom's face. He drew
a step nearer, and now the menacing
muzzle was less than six feet from
its target. There was a touch of
carelessness in his manner of han
ding the weapon. but his aim was
sure and a slight pressure on the
trigger would have meant death.
But the Phantom's look of dismay
was not due to fear. Many a time
he had laughed in the face of dan.
gers far more serious than the pres
ent one. The thing that appalled, him
was the realization that twice within