Part 38 (2/2)

Thesel turned ghastly white, while Swann grew livid with rage. He seemed to expand. His hand went back to his right hip.

When Lane got within six feet of them, Swann drew a small automatic pistol. But before he could raise it, Lane had leaped into startling activity. With terrific swing he brought his gun down on Swann's face.

Then as swiftly he turned on Thesel. Swann had hardly hit the floor, a sodden heap, when Thesel, with b.l.o.o.d.y visage, reeled and fell like a log. Lane bent over them, ready to beat either back. But both were unconscious.

”Daren--for G.o.d's sake--don't murder them!” whispered Lorna, hoa.r.s.ely.

Lane's humanity was in abeyance then, but his self-control did not desert him.

”You girls must hurry out of here,” he ordered.

”Oh, Gail is fainting,” cried Lorna.

The little Williams girl was indeed swaying and sinking down. Lane grasped her and shook her. ”Brace up. If you keel over now, you'll be found out sure.... It's all right. You'll not be hurt. There----”

A heavy thumping on the door by which Lane had entered and a loud authoritative voice from the hall silenced him.

”Open up here! You're pinched!”

That voice Lane recognized as belonging to Chief of Police Bell. For a moment, fraught with suspense, Lane was at a loss to know what to do.

”Open up! We've got the place surrounded.... Open up, or we'll smash the door in!”

Lane whispered to the girls: ”Is there a place to hide you?”

The Williams girl was beyond answering, but Lorna, despite her terror, had not lost her wits.

”Yes--there's a closet--hid by a curtain--here,” she whispered, pointing.

Lane half carried Gail. Lorna brushed aside a heavy curtain and opened a door. Lane pushed both girls into the black void and closed the door after them.

”Once more--open up!” bellowed the officer in the hall, accompanying his demand with a thump on the door. Lane made sure some one had found his axe. He did not care how much smas.h.i.+ng the policemen did. All that concerned Lane then was how to avert discovery from the girls. It looked hopeless. Then, as there came sudden splintering blows on the door, Lane espied Swann's cigarettes and matches on the music box.

Lane seldom smoked. But while the officers were breaking in the door, Lane leisurely lighted a cigarette; and when two of them came in he faced them coolly.

The first was Chief Bell, a large handsome man, in blue uniform. The second one was a patrolman. Neither carried a weapon in sight. Bell swept the big room in one flas.h.i.+ng blue glance--took in Lane and the p.r.o.ne figures on the floor.

”Well, I'll be d.a.m.ned,” he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. ”What am I up against?”

”h.e.l.lo, Chief,” replied Lane, coolly. ”Don't get fussed up now. This is no murder case.”

”Lane, what's this mean?” burst out Bell.

Lane was rather well acquainted with Chief Bell, and in a way there was friends.h.i.+p between them. Bell, for one, had always been st.u.r.dily loyal to the soldiers.

”Well, Chief, I was having a little friendly game with Mr. Swann and Captain Thesel,” drawled Lane. ”We got into an argument. And as both were such ferocious fighters I grew afraid they'd hurt me bad--so I had to soak them.”

”Don't kid me,” spoke up Bell, derisively. ”Little game--h.e.l.l! Where's the cards, chips, table?”

”Chief, I didn't say we played the game to-night.”

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