The Gray Phantom Part 18

"So it would seem," mumbled The Phantom, at last finding his voice.

"And don't you think you had better be reasonable and accept Mr.

Shei's conditions? If you decide to be sensible, the antidote will be administered to Miss Hardwick as soon as Mr. Shei's plans are consummated, and she will not be one whit the worse off for her experience. On the other hand, if you choose to be disagreeable----"

Miss Dale paused significantly.

The Phantom's tense face bespoke a great mental effort. One by one he reviewed the details of Mr. Shei's brilliant precautions. He could not see a loop-hole anywhere. As far as his imagination could stretch, the only result of obstinacy would be certain death for Helen. Yet the cup of defeat was a bitter draft. Never before had The Gray Phantom surrendered to any man; but now the life of one dear to him was in danger. He made his decision promptly.

"Mr. Shei wins," he announced with a bow. Then he walked out, oblivious of the triumphant smile that curled Miss Dale's lips. His brow was clouded as he descended in the elevator and walked out on the sidewalk. He was aware that the dragnet was thrown out and that he was endangering his liberty by going about so boldly, but arrest and imprisonment seemed a minor matter now. For the first time in his life he was a defeated man. Worse still, he could not rid himself of fears concerning Helen's safety.

Presently he paused as a new and even more disturbing thought flashed through his mind. He had accepted Mr. Shei's terms in the hope that by doing so he would insure Helen's safety. He wondered if he had been too gullible, and he dodged into a doorway while considering the question. He had been under a terrific tension the past few days, and his mind had not been working with its customary agility. Now it occurred to him that he had nothing but Miss Dale's word for it that Helen's life would be spared if he yielded to Mr. Shei's terms. He had relied on her promise, not because of blind faith in her, but rather because Mr. Shei would gain nothing by killing Helen. He was merely using her as a means of suasion whereby to hold The Phantom in leash and prevent interference with his plans, and once she had served his purpose there was no reason why he should do her harm.

But The Phantom was far from satisfied. At Azurecrest, Helen must have heard and seen things that if divulged would const.i.tute a great danger to Mr. Shei and his organization. Her keen perceptions and inquisitive nature were always delving into whatever was strange and mysterious.

Would Mr. Shei dare let her live after her usefulness to him was past?

Again, as he repeatedly asked himself the question, a cold perspiration broke out on The Phantom's brow.

Once more he made a quick decision, completely reversing the one he had made in Miss Dale's presence. He glanced quickly at his watch. If he remembered correctly, there would be a train for Azurecrest inside twenty minutes. Single-handed, relying only on his quick wits and agile strength, he would beard the lion in his den.

But first he was anxious to learn whether Culligore had made any progress toward clearing up the other phases of the mystery, particularly in regard to Mr. Fairspeckle. He entered a convenient telephone booth and called up the police department. Luck was with him, for after a brief delay he heard Culligore's voice over the wire.

"Oh, Fairspeckle! Why, he's vamoosed. Slipped away right from under the eyes of a doctor and a nurse. Can you beat it?"

The Phantom's veins tingled as he hung up. Fairspeckle's disappearance was final proof that he had correctly guessed the ident.i.ty of Mr.

Shei.

CHAPTER XV

DR. TAGALA

Helen's little wrist watch showed a quarter past four.

Getting up from the chair, she roamed aimlessly about the room.

Presently she stopped at the table and gazed down. The initials she had heedlessly scrawled in the dust were still there. The faint tracings that had betrayed her knowledge of Mr. Shei's ident.i.ty seemed fraught with fate now. With a few idle strokes of the hand she had signed her own death warrant.

She could not have mistaken the sinister gleam she had seen in Slade's eyes as he looked down at the letters in the dust. His eyes had spelled her doom just as surely as the tracings on the table spelled the name by which Mr. Shei was known to the world at large. And the slam with which he had closed the door told even more eloquently than words that her life was forfeit.

Suddenly she felt a little hysterical. The fatal secret she had learned, the spectacular intrigues of Mr. Shei, even the scrawl in the dust seemed so trivial now that she felt an impulse to laugh. It was grotesque, she thought, that such a little thing as a couple of initials traced on the surface of a table should mean the blotting out of her life.

The house was very silent. No one had entered the room since Slade's departure, and she had spent the intervening hours in a state of musing detachment. Her thoughts and fancies flitted about in circles, and she had a curious impression that only her mind was functioning and that her emotions were numb. The slanting rays of the sun glimmered pleasantly on the furniture and she wondered abstractedly whether she should ever see the sunlight of another day. She glanced down at her dress, trimmed with delicate touches of red, and the thought struck her that perhaps she was wearing it for the last time.

It was odd, she mused, that the prospect held no terror for her, and that her only feeling was a sense of dull, aching void.

Voices in the hall outside started her out of her reverie. The Gray Phantom's name, spoken in excited tones, sent an emotional quiver through her being and awoke her from her lethargy. Sensations, gentle and stimulating ones, stirred in the depths of her consciousness.

"The Gray Phantom," she whispered, looking pensively at the door. He had inspired her with emotions that she had never been quite able to understand. At times they had terrified her by their strangeness and power, for she had felt as if they were rousing new impulses within her and sweeping her along toward an unknown destiny. His career, bright and swift as the flash of a meteor, had intrigued her imagination even while she felt awed and a little frightened at the stories she heard about him. Of late he had tried to throw off the shackles of the past and start a new life, and she had watched his efforts with a strange and bewildering sense of sponsors.h.i.+p.

The voices in the hall had ceased now, but the name that had been spoken was still echoing in her ears and vibrating against hidden cords in her consciousness. Of a sudden the prospect of death, which a few minutes before she had contemplated without fear, filled her with dread and poignant regrets. The mere mention of a name had inspired in her a vehement desire to live.

She tiptoed to the door. It did not surprise her that Slade had left it unlocked. The picket fence, the ferocious Caesar, and the attendants made such a precaution unnecessary. She stepped out in the hall, then looked hesitantly about her, but she could see nothing of the men whose voices she had heard a few moments ago. At the end of the hall a door stood open, and she moved silently in that direction. Entering, she ran her eyes over long white benches on which were bottles, jars, and queer-looking apparatus. There was a reek of chemicals in the air, and she guessed it was a laboratory of some sort. It all seemed a little strange to her, but in the next moment her attention was engaged by voices coming through a partly open door at one side of the large room.

"Oh, it's serious enough," one of them was saying, and she instantly knew that the speaker was Slade. "The Gray Phantom is the only man alive who can queer Mr. Shei's game."

The words were spoken in a tone of reluctant respect that gave Helen a thrill. Coming from an enemy, it was a striking tribute to The Phantom's genius and power.

"Ah, The Gray Phantom! I have heard the name. One of your fascinating master criminals, is he not?" The second man spoke with the exaggerated precision that characterizes the educated foreigner. "But why does The Gray Phantom interfere in the affairs of Mr. Shei?"

Slade chuckled grimly. "That's hard to tell, Doctor Tagala. Perhaps for a number of reasons. Maybe he dislikes to see another man excel him at his own game. There's such a thing as professional jealousy even among crooks, you know. All we know for certain is that he arrived in New York the day Mr. Shei's notices were posted. One of our men saw him, and he was watched almost from the moment of his arrival.

His actions indicated plainly that he had gone on the warpath against Mr. Shei. Confound the infernal meddler!"

"But Mr. Shei is a resourceful man," observed Doctor Tagala. "He surely can devise some means whereby this impudent fellow may be restrained."

"He has already done so. As you know, he motored back to New York early this morning, but I had a long-distance telephone conversation with him a few minutes ago. He made a very good suggestion, but the execution of it will have to be left to you."

"To me?"

"You remember hearing me speak of the young lady who came here looking for The Gray Phantom. Her name is Helen Hardwick, and she is much too astute for her own good. She's learned a number of things that won't bear repeating, and among them is the ident.i.ty of Mr. Shei. Of course, as soon as I found out how much she knew, I saw that she would have to be put out of the way, and I told Mr Shei so over the telephone. He over-ruled my plan; or, rather, he suggested an improvement."

"What was it?"

"To let the young lady remain on earth five or six days longer; in other words, until Mr. Shei had cashed in his chips. You see, doctor, The Gray Phantom has quite a crush on the young lady, and he would rather go through h.e.l.l fire than have a single hair on her head hurt."

Helen felt the blood rus.h.i.+ng to her head.

"I am beginning to comprehend," remarked Doctor Tagala. "It is Mr.

Shei's plan to keep The Gray Phantom in check by threatening to inflict harm on the young lady. An excellent idea, but a trifle vague."

"Oh, there's nothing vague about it, and it involves something far more substantial than mere threats. Can't you guess, doctor?"

There came an interval of silence. Evidently Doctor Tagala was exercising his imagination. Helen crept a little closer, then peered through the narrow crack between the door and the jamb. Only two or three feet from her, with his lips curled into a leer, sat Slade. Her eyes traveled a little farther until she saw Doctor Tagala, and suddenly she caught her breath. It required all her self-control to keep from betraying her presence. She had seen the face twice before, first in the Thelma Theater and later at the window of the room in which Slade had interviewed her shortly after her arrival at Azurecrest, and on each occasion the sight had given her a chill. The coa.r.s.e and brutal features, framed by black hair that reached almost to the shoulders, stood out in sharp contrast to the man's cultured speech and polished manners. Again, as she saw the brutish lips and the flaming eyes, she received an impression of something evil and loathsome. She leaned weakly against the wall, and then she heard again Doctor Tagala's voice.

"I am very poor at making conjectures. You will have to enlighten me."

"Well, then, Mr. Shei's orders are that you are to inoculate the young lady with the laughing fever. You will calculate the dose just as you did in the cases of the seven millionaires. The Phantom will be told that the antidotes will be administered on the one condition that he goes back to his bailiwick and keeps his hands out of Mr. Shei's affairs. That will keep him on his good behavior for a week, and by that time Mr. Shei will have cleaned up."

"And the young lady?"

Slade laughed unpleasantly. "She knows too much, as I have already told you. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. Much knowledge is apt to prove fatal. You will merely forget to administer the antidote when the time comes."

Doctor Tagala gave a rumbling laugh. Helen felt a sudden chill. She leaned weakly against the wall. Inoculation with what Slade had called the laughing fever seemed far more dreadful than death itself.

"By the way, doctor," Slade went on, "I hope the antidote is safely hidden?"

"You may rest a.s.sured on that point," Tagala declared. "I have hidden it so securely that not even Mr. Shei knows where to find it."

"Good. That being the case, our seven millionaire friends would be in a bad fix if a sudden misfortune should befall you."