“The Ghost Counts Ten”

Waikato Times, Volume 121, Issue 20247, 16 July 1937, Page 3

“The Ghost Counts Ten”

By RALPH TREVOR (Author of “viper's Vengeance," "The Eyes Through the Mask,” Etc., Etc.)

CHAPTER, XXVII. — (Continued.) “Mr Quest has decided not to part ■with his seoret,” she said, breathlessly. Bolz smiled. “Thank you for the decision, Miss Trelare. Torestes, the needles, quick.” “Stop!” Quest had jumped to his feet, and the girl turned to meet his gaze. “You don’t know what you're doing, Louise. This fiend means to torture you with some hideous needles if we don't do as he says. I can't let that happen.” A sudden silence fell on the room—an anti-climax to the crescendo of voices of a moment ago. “Well?” questioned Bolz, sauvely. “One moment,” requested the young scientist, sinking to his knees, busy with paper and pencil. Bolz turned to Torestes. “You may put the needles away, Torestes, and keep an eye on friend Smolnov. 1 fancy i see an ugly look on his face, and we don't want any trouble from him.” Quest sprang to his feet and held out several sheets of paper in his trembling hand. “There,” he announced, "are you satisfied?” Bolz took the papers, almost snatched them in his eagerness. “You are prepared to swear, Quest, that this is the other half of the formula ?” “Yes l” Bolz pushed the girl away from him towards Torestes. “Now, Mr Quest, you must realise, that this formula would be of little advantage to me were you to remain alive. I have decided, therefore, to kill you. To kill you and Smolnov. You are both highly dangerous men. Since I am a humane man I have no desire that Miss Trelare should witness so distressing a sight. Take her outside, Torestes, and see that she is well, guarded.” Tile girl gave a cry and fell forward into Torestes’ arms. Fearing a trap, Bolz sprang into the centre of the room, pivoting his gun between Ferring and Quest, while Torestes dragged the unconscious girl from the room. Quest seemed utterly unconcerned at that moment. Ferring thought that there was almost a challenge in his keen eyes. "Since I am a condemned man, and since it is usual to grant a last reasonable wish to men so placed, I am sure you would not refuse me a cigarette.” Bolz stood thoughtful, as though weighing the possibilities of a trap. Then he decided.. “I have no objection, but I am afraid I cannot wait until you have completed the enjoyment. I propose to count ten very slowly. At the count of eight I shall kill you, Mr Quest. On the count of ten you, 'Smolnov, will follow'.” “Thanks,” murmured Quest, fumbling for his cigarette case. He had extracted one and placed it between his Ups. Ferring watched the drama with fascinated eyes. There was something hypnotic about it. From another pocket Quest had taken the petrol lighter. It was of a somewhat novel design—rather like a lighthouse. Ferring watched the young man raise the lighter to his mouth; saw his fingers operating the mechanism. Bolz had begun to count. “One. . . . Two. . . . Three. . . . The words were like the tolling of a bell, while all the time the weapon was trained on Quest. Ferring heard a tiny snap, but looking, he saw no flame emerge where he Imagined the wick to be. Instead he heard a heart-rending scream of Bolz. It was the scream of a man possessed of a thousand devils. Ferring was ready to spring, his hands freed from the cords, but something stayed him. He saw Bolz’s revolver melting away in the hand that held it, a stream of molten metal cascading to the boards. “Quick,” roared Quest, who had seen Ferring’s hands move to his eyes. "Get him, while I sihother the fTre,” and he plunged an armful of blankets over the flame that spurted up from the tinder dry boards where the hot metal had met them. Ferring leaped through the air like a bullet. A list cracked against the amazed Bolz’s jaw, and he fell like a log, his right hand burned and shrivelled. The blankets had done their work.

Ferrlng loosed the cords completely from his feet and turned to Quest. “Thanks, old man,” he said, hoarsely, “but you’d better keep that devils device of yours ready for a further emergency while I try and find if Bolz has another gun.” ! Bolz had another gun, and no sooner J had Ferring straightened himself than I a white-faced Torestes dashed into the i room. He had been along to his l'v.m with the girl, and had heard the i scream of agony on his return. I Ferring leaped again, but this tinie Ihe hit with the butt of the gun. It | cracked down on Torestes’ head sickI eninglv, and the man fell without even j a moan. ! “I think they’ll be all right here for a few minutes,” said Ferring. | “Anyhow, we can lock them in. We 11 j cut along now and see how Miss Tre- ' lare is. I think I know where Torestes will have taken her.” Together they left the secret room, and releasing the spring panel, entered Torestes’ apartment. As Ferring had thought, Louise was there. She had recovered consciousness, but j was very dazed. She gave a little ' cry as she caught sight of them. I “But, I thought. . . Quest took her in his arms. “No talking now,” he counselled, ! and catching sight of the decanter of brandy, “f think wo could all do with a generous helping of the fire-water. What do you say, Ferring?” Ferring said very little, for just then Michael Trelare appeared. He seemed excited and breathless. “We're being raided,” lie announced, then he stopped suddenly as his eyes fell on Quest. “But what’s happened?” he asked. “I came to tell Torestes tbe police want him.” j Ferring didn’t wait to hear more. He dashed headlong from the room down into the club. At the foot of the stairs lie found Sir Mark Freeland. J “I knew somehow you’d, be on the job, Ferring. The men are combing [ the place throughout for Quest.” | Breathlessly Ferring told of the I events of the past few minutes, and j led the way to Torestes’ room, j An hour later with Bolz, Torestes, j and the rest having been taken away !in those inconspicuous vans the police have a habit at times of using, a rather bewildered little party met in the Trelare’s private apartment. “How many did you get?” asked Ferring quietly to Sir Mark, who was smoking one of his favourite cigars from the Club bar. “Seven, my boy. The best haul we’ve had since i can remember.” Ferring appeared to be reflecting. “I counted ten, you remember, and 1 allowing for the two already in custody in London, there’s one missing.” Sir Mark nodded. “Lancing got out before we could detain her,” he said, quietly. “So it was a woman?” “Yes, you were right again, Ferring. However, we mustn’t grumble.” “Cigarette, Mr Ferring?” - called out Quest from the divan with Louise beside him. “Thanks,” replied Ferring, “but if it’s all the same to you I’ll us© my , own lighter. I should just hate to be melted by a replica of your Death Ray.” “Well,” sighed Sir Mark, with a wink at Ferring, “I think we’d better take a look around before we get back to headquarters. Good night, Miss Trelare; good-night, Mr Quest. We’ro sorry you’ve been troubled like this ” “I think I’ll come down with you," supplemented Michael Trelare. “I’m still in a bit of a daze.” “And you didn’t give him the formula after all?” smiled Louise. Quest shook his head and grinned. “It was a lot of nonsense really. Actually it was a prescription for indigestion I remembered. You see, my dear, like a good conjuror and showman I always intended keeping my best trick to the last.” THE END.