THE “HOODED TERROR,"

Wairarapa Daily Times, 12 May 1932, Page 7

THE “HOODED TERROR,"

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT,

COPYRIGHT.

CHAPTER V.— Continued. He paused and passed l’.is tongue over liis dry lips. "I was preparing td go to sleep again when I heard a shout from down below, followed by a banging of a door. I rose, and came downstairs to see what was the matter. Wills was standing by the front door, which ho had just opened. He informed me that ho had been disturbed by the sound of someone in my study, and very bravely had come down to investigate. He was in time to see the figure of a man, whom he says was dressed entirely in blacAc, in the act of crossing the hall. Wills shouted, and the man rushed to the front door, pulled it open and slipped through, shutting it behind him. Wills hurried to the door, but when he got there and looked out into the street the mysterious visitor was nowhere to be seen.” “Was anything stolen?” asked Dick. “That’s the extraordinary part of it,” replied Mr Lathbury, his hands were becoming steadier, and he was assuming more and more of his usual pompous manner, “nothing was taken beyond an envelope from my safe, which contained only a number of private papers of no possible value to anyone but myself. It’s a complete mystery —a complete mystery.” “How did the man get in?” asked Dick. Mr Lathbury shook his head. “I have not the least idea,” he declared. “I have not even had time to look. My first thought, directly I saw that horrible card on the desk, was to ’phone for you.” Trent rose to his feet. “Can I use your telephone?” he asked. “Certainly,” said Lathbury, carefully hoisting his large body out. of the chair, and leading the way out into the hall. He indicated the instrument, which stood on a little table against the wall. Dick picked up the receiver and gave the number. “Can I speak to Inspector Cowles« lie asked, when after the lapse of some time a sleepy voice answered him. “He hasn’t come in yet.” “All right. Tell him it w r as Richard Trent, and ask him if he’ll come along to Grosvenor-sq. at once.” He hung up the receiver and turned to the banker. i( I should like to sec the study, 7 lie said briefly. Lathbury took him up the stairs on to the first landing. As they entered the big room Dick paused on the threshold, his eyes taking in at a glance every detail. The room was in the utmost disorder, the floor strewn and littered with papers. The big desk, which stood in the centre 'had been forced open, the drawers pulled out, and their contents emptied and scattered in every direction, and the drawers themselves piled up in a heap by the side. The safe, which stood in one corner yawned wide open, its door hanging drunkenly on the hinges. One side of the carpet had been rolled back, disclosing the dark stained floor beneath. It was obvious that the mysterious intruder had been looking for something. ~ “You say an envelope was taken? said Trent, turning to Lathbury. “Are you sure that is all?” The banker hesitated. “I have not been able to make sure whether there is anything else missing or not, ’ ’ he replied. I thought it better to leave the place untouched until you arrived—yes, until you arrived.” Dick crossed over to the safe and surveyed the battered door. It was of the latest pattern advertised by its makers as burglar proof, a fallacy that the ease with which it had been opened demonstrated. “The man who smashed this knew Ids job,” said Trent. He stooped as he spoke, and looked closer. “He worked with rubber gloves, too, so there is no hope of finding finger prints. ’ ’ He left the safe and went over to the desk. Lying on the top of the litter of papers was a white card the size of a visiting card. At the sight of the familiar black stamped impression it, Trent’s lips set in a firm line. . ' “I suppose you’ve no idea what the ‘Hooded Terror’ could have been looking for?” he asked Lathbury. “No ” answered the banker. “I am completely puzzled—completely puzzled.”

“What did the missing envelope contain? 7; ? 1 • Merely some private memoranda, said Lathbury, “connected with the bank. It was of no value-no value at all.” , , , “I think,” said Dick, “you had better make certain that nothing else has been stolen while I speak to Wills.' Lathbury nodded and began to straighten out the collection of papers that littered the floor. Dick found Wills in the hall, and led the perturbed butler into the dining room. “Now, Wills,” he began, “1 want to ask you one or two questions. What was the noise that first woke you up?” The old man thought for a moment before replying. “I can’t exactly say, sir,” he answered presently. “It was nothing definite, just a vague sort of sound, a kind of crackling. I thought at first the master had possibly been taken ill. He mention that he wasn’t feeling very well when lie came in. I thought I’d come down and see if I could do anything.” He stopped. “What happened next?” prompted Dick.

“I slipped on a coat,” continued the old butler, ‘ ‘ and opened the, door of my room, which is at the top of the house, and came down the stairs. When

(To be Continued)

BY DONALD STUART. (Author of “The Invisible Clue,” “Mister Midnight,” <; The Secret of Whispering Beeches,” etc).

I got on to the landing, the one above that which the study opens on to, I heard the sound of rustling papers. As I came down the next flight of stairs I saw that there was a light in the study, the door was partly open, and it was from there that the sound came. ’ ’

“I was half-way down the stairs when the door opened wide, and a man came out. Though I could net see his face, for it was too dark, I knew it was not the master. He was much taller and thinner. I shouted, and the man was startled and made a rush for the front door. I ran after him, but he was too quick for me. Before I could get near he had pulled open the door, and run through, banging it behind him. I opened it, hoping to get a glimpse of him in the street outside, but there was no sign of him, and at that moment Mr Lathbury appeared, asking what had happend.” “You have no idea who the man was?” asked Trent. The old butler shook his head slowly. . “I never saw his face,” re replied, “hut he was dressed entirely in black, and wore a soft hat pulled low over his eyes. ’ ’ “You usually see to the locking up before going to bed?” asked Dick. “Yes, sir,” said Wills. “And how is the front door fastened?” “Bolted and chained,” replied the old man. “Was this done last night?” “Yes, sir.” “And the man would not have had time to unbolt and unchain the door before he left?” “He didn’t, sir,” replied the butler, “he just pulled it open.” “Humph!” said Dick thoughtfully, “he must have prepared his means of' exit before hand. You heard no other sound,” he continued, “only the noise that woke you?” “No, sir,” replied Wills, “nothing. ’ ’ “Take me through to the back,” said Trent. “I want to find out how the man got in.” The butler led the way across the hall to a door at the far end which led down a short flight of steps into the kitchen. Crossing this he unbolted and unchained a small half-glass door, covered with iron shutters, which led into the garden. Dick had not to look far to discover t.ie means by which the intruder had «ained an entrance. Roared against one sile of the house was a light ladder, the top resting against an upper window-sill. Dick turned to the old man at his side, and pointed upwards. “What window is that?” he-asked. “The bathroom, sir,” replied Wills. Dick approached the ladder, and as he came near the foot where it rested on the gravel, his eyes caught sight of something white that showed up faintly in the darkness, lying close by. Stooping, he picked it up. It was a handkerchief, a tiny thing of silk and lace. Returning to the kitchen he switched on the light and examined his find. It was a woman’s handkerchief, and neaLy embroidered in one corner were the initials C.B. Dick slipped it into his pocket, his mind in a whirl, for he knew the owner of that handkerchief. Unless he was veity much mistaken it belonged to Christine Baker, James Lathbury’s secretary! CHAPTER VI. —CONCERNING AN OVERDRAFT. It was one of Richard Trent’s boasts that he had outgrown sentiment, and that his interest in woman was detached and purely of a philosophical nature. Yet the discovery of that tiny handkerchief caused him considerable worry concerning its owner. There was no possible doubt of its having belonged to Christine, for beside the initials it was redolent of the peculiar perfume she was in the habit of using. But how in the world had it come to be at the foot of the ladder used by the intruder to break into Latkbury’s residence? The most obvious answer seemed to be that it had been dropped by the girl, which proved that she must have been there at the time, even if she were not actually the person responsible for the robbery. Dick had only seen her some halfdozen times, and had resolutely refused to allow himself to analyse his feelings concerning her, but in some inexplicable manner the girl had a habit of intruding herself upon his thoughts at odd moments in a way that was most disconcerting for a man who considered himself a confirmed bachelor. After his discovery of the handkerchief, Dick tried once more to get through to Cowles, but the Inspector was still out, and after completing his formal inquiries he ’phoned through to headquarters on account of the affair. Shortly after an Inspector arrived. Leaving him in charge Dick, refusing Lathbury’s offer of breakfast, set off for Scotland Yard. The rain of the previous night had cleared, and the morning was bright and dear. A faint pink tinge in the east heralded the appearance of the sun, and the air was clear and sweet.