THE "HOODED TERROR,”

Wairarapa Daily Times, 13 May 1932, Page 7

THE "HOODED TERROR,”

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

BY DONALD STUAET. (Author of "The Invisible Clue,” “Mister Midnight,” “The Secret of Whispering Beeches,” etc).

COPYEIGHT.

CIIAPTEK Vl.—Continued. c Dick elected to walk, for the deserted ‘ streets, soon to be tilled with the roar , and bustle of the day, were quiet and j peaceful and conducive to thought, and j Pick had quite a lot to occupy his mind. j 'He felt hot-eyed and weary from lack of sleep, but, after he had been walkdug for a little while, the cool air acted like a tonic and soon banished his feeling of fatigue. He had left James Latlibury bordering on collapse, for the robbery seemed to have reduced the stout banker to a state almost akin to ter- ' ror. “What possible motive could the 'Hooded Terror’ have had for the bur- { glary?” thought Dick, as he turned in- v to Oxford Street? Apparently the rj only thing stolen had been the en- s velope, which according to the banker contained nothing of value. Latlibury had carefully examined his other pap- f ers and effects, and had announced s that nothing else was missing. It was inconceivable that the n “Hooded Terror” had broken in on the c off-chance of finding a large sum of p money in the safe, it was quite unlike h his usual method', for every outrage p in which he had been concerned had been carefully planned, down to the p miu..test detail in advance, and he t never undertook a job that was not f certain to yield a considerable profit. s That he should have taken the risk € of breaking into Latlibury’s house for t the sake of an envelope, containing a few papers relating to the business o c the bank was absurd, unless— t pick stopped suddenly in his walk, ( and a constable standing at the corner of a side street eyed him suspici- T ouslv. . . With a startling suddenness an idea < had flashed through his mind. An idea } vague and shadowy it is true, but cer- , t a inly full of possibilities. He was still "turning this new theory over in , his mind when he arrived at Scotland ( Yard and turned in through the Whitehall entrance. , 1 It was barely six, and the Sergeant on duty in the entrance looked at him in surprise as lie crossed to the stone , steps leading up to his office. “You’re early, sir,” the man marked with a smile. “I’ve given up sleeping,” answered Dick cheerfully, and ascended the “*TS. stiu-. ' reached his room he rang When he .... ’ coffee, then sat and ordered somo flv* .... 1 down at his desk to think. Per some time he sat and slated before him with unseeillg his 1 alert mind grappling with the nebulous < idea that had taken shape in liis < brain. Presently lie picked up the telephone j 1 and gave a number. I After a few minutes he was in com- 1 munication with Latlibury. | '<■

“ Can you tell me exactly what that envelope contained that was stolen, Dick inquired. There was a pause at the other end of the wire, “Well, er —er,” came the voice of Mr Lathbury, hesitantly, “the contents were some papers relating to—er —a private matter concerning one of my clients at the bank. I am by no means sure that I am within my er —rights in divulging their nature er —nature. ’ ’ There was another pause, and Dick waited patiently. “Under the circumstances, however,” continued the banker, “I suppose it is necessary that you should know, and of course, that you treat the matter confidentially, I see no reason —no reason at all, why I should not inform you—yes, inform you.” Dick made a grimace at the telephone as the slow, pompous voice proceeded.

“As a matter of fact they were concerning an overdraft, and I had brought them home the day before yesterday to work on—l sometimes do part of my business at home in the evenings. They merely consisted of a list of securities offered, and really were of no value to anybody.”

“What was the name of the person who required the overdraft?” asked Dick. Mr Lathbury was so long in replying that Dick thought he had rung off, but presently liis voice sounded again, slowly and reluctantly. “Morrison,” he replied, “John Morl:ion! ’ ’ Dick Trent was so astonished that he almost dropped the receiver, and as it was he put it back on its hook without saving good-bye to Lathbury or putting the further questions he had intended to ask. Morrison! It was the last name that Dick had expected to hear, and it shattered his theory completely. There was no particular reason why he should feel astonished at the fact of Jack Morrison trying to arrange an overdraft at his bank, beyond the fact that lie knew that Morrison had a. considerable balance at the City and County, for it was only two days previously that he had mentioned to Dick, with great delight, about some shares lie had held which had suddenly boomed, rising in leaps and bounds. Morrison had soul out at the height of their value, and netted something like twenty thousand pounds over the transaction. Of course, it might be a different Morrison altogether, and the similarity in names only a coincid-

ence. To make sure Dick rang up Latlibury again. At the end of his inquiries there could be no possible doubt about its being the same Morrison, for Latlibury stated that his client was engaged on the staff of the “Monitor” and there was certainly only one Morrison working for that enterprising paper. As he sipped at the steaming coffee, brought in by a constable, Dick tried to puzzle it out. What possible interest -could a list

of securities, offered by bis friend in connection with an overdraft at the Western and Union Bank, have for the “Hooded Terror ’’ J And how did that mysterious individual know that the list was at Latlibury’s private house? It was only by chance that it was there, and ordinarily would have been far more likely to have been kept at the bank. Dick’s heart sank as the obvious solution flashed to his mind — the handkerchief! Christine Baker was Lathbury’s secretary, and her handkerchief was found at the bottom of the ladder by which the intruder had made his entrance. ■She, of course, would have been able to find out quite easily that the banker was taking the list home to work on. That led to only one conclusion that she was in communication with the “Hooded Terror!” Dick helped himself to a cigarette from the box on his desk, and savagely struck a match. The whole thing was impossible, and made his head ache, and with an exclamation that was «more forcible than polite, he rose to his feet, jammed his hands in his pocket, and started to pace up and down the room. He was conscious of an almost overpowering desire to see Christine, and turned to the telephone directory, before he realised that in all probability she was not on the ’phone, and in any case it was foolishness to put a call through at that hour. iHe closed the book he had half opened with a bang and turned as a tap came at the door, and Inspectoi Cowles entered. He was beautifully dressed as usual, but looked pale and haggard. “Hello, Cowles,” greeted Dick. “I’ve ’phoned you twice at your flat, but they said you hadn’t been home. Where have you been?” “They told me you’d ’phoned, that’s why I’m here,” said Cowles, sitting on the edge* of the desk, and swinging a perfectly trousered leg, “otherwise I was going to have a short rest.’ He yawned. “Where the devil have you been, asked Dick 'again. Cowles grinneci. and searched for lus cigarette case. , “I’ve been trailing an old friend of ours,” he announced, lighting a cigarette’ and blowing a cloud of blue smoke ceiling-wards. “Who?” asked Dick ungrammatically. , - - ’-i—> Wallace,” answered ■“’•ia Station Chivies, “I saw him at . . quite by chance, and during our brief conversation lie hinted rather broadly that someone was out to get me. in fact he seemed to know so much, that I decided it was worth while following him. I’m glad I did for I’ve learned a lot.” “Well, while you’ve been chasing after Wallace, things have been happening,” said Dick. “The ‘Hooded Terror’s’ got busy again. Lathbury’s house was broken into last night.” - “I know,” replied Inspector Cowles calmly, flicking the ash from his cigarette daintily with his little finger. Dick stopped dead in his pacing, and stared at his colleague. “You know! How the deuce do you know?” he demanded. “I was there!” said the inspector, “I’ll tell you who did the job. It was ‘Sparkler’ Wallace!” “Do you mean that Wallace is the ‘Hooded Terror’?” Dick almost shouted.

Detective Inspector Cowles shook his head.

“No,” he answered, “I believe lie’s one of the gang, but I don’t think lie’s the big noise. I’m hoping lie’ll lead us to him, though. I’ll tell you all about it, and you can judge for yourself. There are several things I don’t understand. The girl’s one of them. ’ ’ “What girl?” asked Dick, with sudden tightening of his -heart, as lie remembered the handkerchief which reposed in his breast pocket. “Ob. there’s a girl in it,” said -Cowles, staring at the highly polished toe cap of his patent shoe. “How she fits in I don’t know, but she’s in it somewhere. I thought it was ,the fair Lydia at first, but it wasn’t.” He took a long pull at his cigarette. “Wallace’s remarks at the station,” lie continued, after a short silence, “made me think, and I am convinced that he knew something about this ‘Hooded Terror’ business. I trailed him when lie left, and shortly after he mot his wife—you remember Lydia, don’t you? As usual they played the same old trick, pretending to be entire strangers, and took separate first-class tickets. I took a ticket to the same destination —the booking clerk gave mo the information when I let him know who I was—but I travelled third. I’d have given a lot to havo been able to hear what they were talking about, but, of course, it was impossible. About twelve miles down the line they got out. The little ..station was almost deserted, and it took me all my .time to avoid being spotted. They still pretended they didn’t know each other, and crossed over the bridge to the ‘up’ platform.” (To be Continued).