Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise. (Pocomoke City, Md.) 1921-1953, 1934-06-08

Police Headquarters on the wire.
"Niles of the Broadway Squad" he
whispered "Whos there? Captain
King? All right, captain, listen to
this I'm short, low sentences he
gave the location Of the house. Eight
men under Sergeant Halloran? Right
captain, l know him In half an
hour" His jaw hardened. "I'm 60
ing to get into that house by myself.
When / want the detail to crash in
I'll blow my whistle. Yes, yes l
know they'll be there"
He dropped the instrument and
stepped out Of the booth. In the res
taurant were half-a-dozen customers
hunched over coffee and bowls of food.
Not one of them even bothered to look
at him. Terry Niles was taking his
life in his hands and he knew it but
he did not see any other way in which
to handle the situation. The mystery
of the ace Of spades was his to solve.
1t would have been sheer foolhardi-
ness to enter the nest of the mob
alone, but with men waiting outside
it for his signal the odds would be at
least even. He planned to drive
straight at the heart of the gang,
taking them unaware, before they
could break up. Casually he glanc-
ed at his watch and moved to the
counter where an attenadnt in stain
ed apron waited for customers.
"Thirty minutes for the boys to get
up here and then go in on my lone
some," he muttered. Gin thirty-one
minutes l may be washed out. Waiter,
a cup of java"
Niles was walking down the desert
ed block with the air Of casual saun-
terer. From the river rose the mel
ancholy boot Of a siren. Some boat
was making for open water. 1t was
wailing sound and carried it's own
note of warning. Perhaps after all
he was being too reckless. He thrust
the thought from him. He had seen
the two men in the shadows of a
basement entrance, shielded from sight
by the high steps of the house. With
a quick turn he moved from the pave
ment into the patch of gloom.
"That you, Sergeant Halloran?"
Eyes. What's the line, Niles" De-
tective Sergeant Halloran of Head
quarters was a good man to depend
on in crisis. Stocky, broad of
shoulder and big of fist, he was an
old hand in the battle against crime.
"This is Vedder with me. Half a
dozen more of the boys are up and
down this street but you won't see
EN-" The Sergeant nodded as Niles
finished his short explanation. 81
see. No evidence yet to go on. And
you hope to get it in yonder?"
Il do" said Niles quietly. "You
know how these mobs work. They'll
all scatter to blazes if we crash the
door in a bunch. | know what I'm
doing, Sergeant" He drew from his
vest pocket little object that shone
with nickel. "Come in when you hear
this. And come fast. If l don't
show up in an hour you know what
to do"
Right" said the sergeant.
Niles stepped away and went along
the street, crossing it to the house
that he had marked down. Without
pausing he went rapidly up its old
fashioned steps. The building was
dark, but he could see a thin CLEAN
of light coming from between the
heavy curtains that masked it's front
window. There was still life in it
despite the lateness of the hour. The
rest of the street slept. Behind the
huge, thick door which he faced lay
something sinister and cruel. He did
not tumble for the bell. Instead he
raised his hand and knocked on the
wood Of the door itself. Three times,
firmly and distinctly. Perhaps the
door would open and perhaps it would
not. 1t swung ajar so suddenly that
he was almost caught off his guard.
Almost but not quite, for he had
thrust forward his foot from sheer
instinct and the next second he was
through the aperture and in dim-lit
hall.
"Youw said Anita Weston. 1t was
the girl herself who had let him in.
Horror shone in her face, standing
there under a covered hall light.
eyes," said Niles. "Your crowd
called on me. Now I'm calling on
them."
Quick" gasped the girl. "Out of
here!" She reached for the door and