The Exploits of Elaine | Page 5

wires with him, and, alter a moment's reconnoitering attached them to
the furnace pipe of the old-fashioned hot-air heater where the pipe ran
up through the floor to the library above. The other wire was quickly
attached to the telephone where its wires entered.
Upstairs, Dodge, evidently uneasy in his mind about the precious
"Limpy Red" letter, took it from the safe along with most of the other
correspondence and, pressing a hidden spring in the wall, opened a
secret panel, placed most of the important documents in this hiding

place. Then he put some blank sheets of paper in an envelope and
returned it to the safe.
Downstairs the masked master criminal had already attached a
voltmeter to the wires he had installed, waiting.
Just then could be heard the tinkle of Dodge's telephone and the old
man rose to answer it. As he did so he placed his foot on the iron
register, his hand taking the telephone and the receiver. At that instant
came a powerful electric flash. Dodge sank on the floor grasping the
instrument, electrocuted. Below, the master criminal could scarcely
refrain from exclaiming with satisfaction as his voltmeter registered the
powerful current that was passing.
A moment later the criminal slid silently into Dodge's room. Carefully
putting on rubber gloves and avoiding touching the register, he
wrenched the telephone from the grasp of the dead man, replacing it in
its normal position. Only for a second did he pause to look at his victim
as he destroyed the evidence of his work.
Minutes were precious. First Dodge's pockets, then his desk engaged
his attention. There was left the safe.
As he approached the strong box, the master criminal took two vials
from his pockets. Removing a bust of Shakespeare that stood on the
safe, he poured the contents of the vials in two mixed masses of powder
forming a heap on the safe, into which he inserted two magnesium
wires.
He lighted them, sprang back, hiding his eyes from the light, and a
blinding gush of flame, lasting perhaps ten seconds, poured out from
the top of the safe.
It was not an explosion, but just a dazzling, intense flame that sizzled
and crackled. It seemed impossible, but the glowing mass was literally
sinking, sinking down into the cold steel. At last it burned through--as
if the safe had been of tinder!

Without waiting a moment longer than necessary, the masked criminal
advanced again and actually put his hand down through the top of the
safe, pulling out a bunch of papers. Quickly he thrust them all, with just
a glance, into his pocket.
Still working quickly, he took the bust of the great dramatist which he
had removed and placed it under the light. Next from his pocket he
drew two curious stencils, as it were, which he had apparently carefully
prepared. With his hands, still carefully gloved, he rubbed the stencils
on his hair, as if to cover them with a film of natural oils. Then he
deliberately pressed them over the statue in several places. It was a
peculiar action and he seemed to fairly gloat over it when it was done,
and the bust returned to its place, covering the hole.
As noiselessly as he had come, he made his exit after one last
malignant look at Dodge. It was now but the work of a moment to
remove the wires he had placed, and climb out of the window, taking
them and destroying the evidence down in the cellar.
A low whistle from the masked crook, now again in the shadow,
brought his pal stealthily to his side.
"It's all right," he whispered hoarsely to the man. "Now, you attend to
Limpy Red."
The villainous looking pal nodded and without another word the two
made their getaway, safely, in opposite directions.
. . . . . . . .
When Limpy Red, still trembling, left the office of Dodge earlier in the
evening, he had repaired as fast as his shambling feet would take him to
his favorite dive upon Park Row. There he might have been seen
drinking with any one who came along, for Limpy had money--blood
money,--and the recollection of his treachery and revenge must both be
forgotten and celebrated.
Had the Bowery "sinkers" not got into his eyes, he might have noticed

among the late revellers, a man who spoke to no one but took his place
nearby at the bar.
Limpy had long since reached the point of saturation and, lurching
forth from his new found cronies, he sought other fields of excitement.
Likewise did the newcomer, who bore a strange resemblance to the
look-out who had been stationed outside at the Dodge house a scant
half hour before.
What happened later was only a matter of