Evening star., 1941-06-29

tongue running down his throat.
Eis mouth dropped open and he
emitted a soft, heart-wrenching
groan. Through the darkness of
torture that held him in a wise
like grip, he could hear Janielle's
sobbing.
How long he stayed that way
Locke never remembered. 1t seemed
an eternity TO him. but his resolve
was fiercer than the terrible pain
that engulfed him. His mind was
a confused maelstrom of pictures
of Janielle, her lovely body still
and lifeless, twisted and battered,
lying amongst the rocks of deep
gorge, if he did not succeed.
Locke Gets Free.
Locke's hands came free, sudden
ly. He slumped down in the chair
for a moment, his breath coming
in raSping gasps. He could hear
mumbled words through the blind
ness of his mind, but they meant
nothing to him. He reused himself
then and brought his hands around
in front, fumbling with the remain
der of his bonds.
He seemed to be working with a
part of his body that was separate
Locke knew that he was all fingers
and thumbs, but he strove nightly.
He reached down and united his
feet.
Locke stood up slowly and, to
Janielle and Xavier Merrill watch
ing him, he seemed to stretch from
the floor TO the ceiling of the shack.
His big body was hunched as he
shambled forward toward the door
His arms hung down long and loose
and his big fists were doubled His
head was lowered and his eyes we're
cleaning circles of rage. Xavier
Merrill shuddered involuntarily.
Locke halted at the doorway and
stepped back and aside. He wav-
cred in the dim light of the shack
his body seemingly supported by
bent matchsticks.
1t was then that Eric Farrell
stepped through the door. He had
been attracted by the odor of burn
ing rope and flesh. He stepped into
the space before Locke and as he
looked at the chair where Locke
should have been, his body went
into a half crouch and he whirled
Locke Allen laughed, then, deep
raucuS laugh that lifted into the air
and filled the shack with hideous
sound When he stopped the laugh
seemed to echo from the corners,
bouncing back and forth, making a
ghastly, fearful sound.
A Great Fight.
Eric Farrell's hand slid into his
coat, dramatically searching for his
automatic. Locke laughed again,
and then he reached out with his
huge hands and picked the gangster
up by the neck. He held the other
man above the floor and began to
shake him, gently at first and then
steadily, faster faster q. Ers
Farrell's feet dangled hideously a. .
his big body swung about like a
sapling in a hurricane. Locke wSs
shaking him as a mongoose would
shake cobra mercilessly, pow
erfully
Farrell's eyes bulged in their
sockets and his thick tongue pro-
truded from his mouth as Locke s
strangle-grip frightened. Farrell's
hands were swinging wildly: all
thought of his gun had vanished
from his mind.
The gangster was trying to claw
his way clear from the death-grip
that was slowly throttling the life
from his body Suddenly he went
limp, shaken into Inconsistencies,
but Locke continued to vent his
blind hate, his consuming anger
now a red welt before his eyes.
Jim! JIM"
| In the dimness that surrounded
him, Locke heard Janielles warning
cry. He loosed his hands ano
Farrell fell in a still lump upon
| the floor Chuck was standing in
the doorway and his gun was COM
ing up Locke croaked a dismal
sound that was meant to be laugh
1t was a crazy, maniacal grunt that
struck into Janielle's mind like the
! singing flick of whip. She