The BLACK BOX
By E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM
Author of" Mr. Grex of Monte
Carlo," “The Vanished Mess
enger"The Lighted Way,"etc.
Novelized from the motion picture drama of the tame name produced by the
Universal.film Manufacturing t.ompany. 111 u s t ra ted with
photograph* from the motion picture production
(Copyright, 1916, by Otia F^WboaT****8****^
8YN0PSIS.
Sanford Quest, master criminologist of
the world, finds that In bringing to Jus
tice Macdougal, the murderer of Lori
Ashleigh’s daughter, he has but Just be
gun a Ufe-and-death struggle with a mys
terlous master criminal In a hidden hui
in Professor Ashleigh’s garden he hat
seen an anthropoid ape skeleton and a
living Inhuman creature, half monkey,
half man. destroyed by fire. In his room
have appeared from nowhere blnck boxes
containing diamonds that had been torn
fiom the owner's throat by a pair of arm
less, threatening handB and sarcastic,
threatening notes signed by the Inscruta
ble hands. Laura and Lenora. his assis
tants, suspect Craig, the professor's valet
of the double murder of Ross Brown,
Quest's valet, and a Miss Qulgg. Quest
traps Craig, but he escapes to England
on a tramp steamer. The black box
continue to appear In uncanny fashion
Notified of Craig’s recapture by Scotland
Yard men Quest and the professor go to
Hamblin house, Lord Ashleigh’s home In
England, only to find that Craig has again
escaped.
j NINTH INSTALLMENT
CHAPTER XX.
LOST IN LONDON.
Quest, notwithstanding the unusual
nature of his surroundings, slept that
night as only a tired and healthy man
can. He was awakened the next morn
ing by the quiet movements of a man
servant who had brought back his
clothes carefully brushed and pressed
"Breakfast is served at nine o’clock,
sir. It is now half-past eight."
"I’ll be right there.”
The man withdrew and Quest made
a brisk toilet. The nameless fears of
the previous night had altogether dis
appeared. At the last moment he
stretched out his hand to take a hand
kerchief from his satchel. A sudden
exclamation broke from his lips. He
stood for a moment as though turned
to stone. Before him, on the top of
the little pile of white cambric, was
a small black box! With a movement
of the fingers which was almost me
chanical, he removed the lid and drew
out the customary little scrap of pa
per. He smoothed It out before him
on the dressing case and read the mes
sage:
You will fail here as you have
failed before. Better go back. There
is more danger for you in this country
than you dream of.”
His teeth came fiercely together and
his hands were clenched. His thoughts
had gone like a flash to Lenora. Was
it possible that harm was intended for
her? He put the Idea away from him
almost as soon as conceived. The
thing was unimaginable. Craig was
here, must be here, in the close vi
cinity of the house.
The atmosphere of the pleasant
breakfast room to which in due course
he descended, was cheerful enough.
Lady Ashleigh had already taken her
place at the head of the table.
She touched an electric bell under
her foot and a moment or two later
the butler appeared.
“Go up and see how long your ipas
ter will be?" Lady Ashleigh directed.
“Very good, your ladyship.”
The man was backing through the
doorway in his usual dignified manner
when he was suddenly pushed on one
side. The valet who had waited upon
Quest, and who was Lord Ashleigh's
own servant, rushed into the room.
He almost shouted to Lady Ashleigh:
“Your ladyship—the master! Some
thing has happened! He won’t move!
He—he-—”
They all trooped out of the room
and up the stairs, the professor lead
ing the way. They pushed open the
door of Lord Ashleigh's bedchamber.
In the far corner of the large room
was the four-poster, and underneath
the clothes a silent figure. The pro
fessor turned down the sheets. Then
he held out his hand. His face, too,
was blanched.
“Julia, don't come,” he begged.
1 “I must know,” she almost shrieked
I must know!”
“George is dead," the professor said
slowly.
There was a moment's awful silence,
broken by a piercing scream from Lady
Ashleigh. She sank down upon the
Eofa, and the professor leaned over
her. Quest turned to the little group
of frightened servants who were gath
ered round the doorway.
“Telephone for a doctor," he or
dered; “also to the local police sta
tion.
"He, too, approached tne Dea ana
reverently lifted the covering. Lord
Ashlelgh was lying there, his body a
little doubled up, his arms wide out
stretched. On his throat were two
block marks.
They had led Lady Ashleigh from
the room. The professor and Quest
stood face to face. The former’s ex
pression, however, had lost all his
amiable serenity. His face was white
and pinched.
"Quest! Quest!” he almost sobbed.
"My brother!—George, whom I loved
like nobody else on earth! Is he real
ly dead?”
I "Absolutely!”
The professor gripped the oak pillar
of the bedstead. He seemed on the
point of collapse.
‘ The mark of the Hands is upon
his throat,” Quest pointed out.
"The Hands! Oh, my God!” tho (
professor groaned.
“We must not eat or drink or sleep,”
4uest declared, fiercely, “until we have
brought this matter to an end. Craig
must be found. This is the supreme
horror of all.”
The butler made an apologetic ap
pearance. He spoke ^1 a hushed whis
per.
"You are wanted downstairs, gentle
men. Middleton, the head keeper, is
there.*’
As though inspired with a common
idea, both Quest and the professor hur
ried out of the room and down the
broad stairs. Their inspiration was
a true one. The gamekeeper wel
comed them with a smile or triumph
By his side, the picture of abject mis
ery, his clothes torn and muddy, was
Craig!
“I’ve Imagined this little job, sir,”
Middleton announced, with a smile of
slow triumph.
“How did you get him?” Quest de
manded.
“Little idea of my own,” the game
keeper continued. “I guessed pretty
well what he'd be up to. He'd tumbled
to it that the usual way off the moor
was pretty well guarded, and he'd
doubled back through the thin line
of woods close to the house. I dug
one of my poachers’ pits, sir, and cov
ered it over with a lot of loose stuff.
That got him all right. When I went
to look this morning I saw where he’d
fallen through, and there he was, walk
ing round and round at the bottom like
a caged animal. Your servants have
telephoned for the police, Mr. Ash
leigh.”
Quest suddenly whispered to the pro j
feasor. Then he turned to the keeper
"Bring him upstairs, Middleton, for
a moment,” he directed. “Follow us,
please.”
They passed into the bedchamber.
Quest signed to the keeper to bring
Craig to the side of the four-poster.
Then he drew down the sheet.
"Is that your work?” he asked,
sternly.
Craig, up till then, had spoken no !
word. He had shambled to the bed
side, a broken, yet, in a sense, a stolid
figure* The sight of the dead man,
however, seemed to galvanize him into
sudden and awful vitality. He threw
up his arms. His eyes were horrible
as they glared at those small black
marks. His lips moved backwards and
forwards, helplessly at first. Then at
last he spoke.
“Strangled!” he cried. "One more!”
"That is your work,” the criminolo
gist said, firmly.
Craig collapsed. He would have
fallen bodily to the ground if Middle
ton’s grip had not kept him up. Quest
bent over him. It was clear that he
had fainted. They led him from the
room.
“We'd better lock him up until the
police arrive,” Quest suggested. "I
suppose there is a safe place some
where?”
The professor awoke from his
stupor.
“Let me show you,” he begged. "I
know the way. We’ve a subterranean
hiding place which no criminal on this
earth could escape from.”
They led him down to the back part
of the house into a dry cellar which
had the appearance of a prison cell.
"This place has been used before
now, in the old days, for malefactors,”
the professor remarked. "He'll be
safe there. Craig,” he added, his
voice trembling, “Craig—I—I can't
speak to you. How could you!”
There was no answer. Craig’s face
was buried in his hands. They left
him there and turned the key.
CHAPTER XXI.
Quest stood, frowning, upon the
pavement, gazing at the obviously |
empty house. He looked once more
at the slip of paper which Lenora had
given him. There was no possibility
of any mistake:
Mrs. Willet,
157 Elsmere Road,
Hampstead.
This was 157 and the house was
empty. After a moment’s hesitation
he rang the bell at the adjoining door.
A woman, who had been watching
him from the front room, answered the
summons at once.
“Can you tell me.” he inquired,
"what <has become of the lady who
used to live at 157—Mrs. Willet?”
"She's moved,” was the uncompro
mising reply.
"Do you know where to?” Quest
asked, eagerly.
"West Kensington—No. 17 Princess
Court road. There was a young lady
here yesterday afternoon inquiring for
her.”
Quest raised his hat. It was a relief,
at any rate, to have news of Lenora.
"I am very much obliged to you,
madam.”
"You're welcome!” was the terse re
ply.
Quest gave a new address to the
taxi driver and was scarcely able to
restrain his impatience during the long
drive. They pulled up at last before
a somewhat dingylooking house. He
rang the bell, which was answered by
a trim looking little maidservant.
“Is Mrs. Willet in?” he inquired.
The maidservant stood on one side
to let him pass. Almost at the same
moment the door of the front room
opened and a pleasant-lookiag elder
ly lady appeared.
“1 am Mrs. Willet,” she announced.
“I am Mr. Quest,” the criminologist
told her quickly. "You may have
heard your niece, Lenora, speak of
me.”
«Then perhaps you can tell me what
has become of her?” Mrs. Willet ob
served.
‘‘Isn’t she here?”
Mrs. Willet shook her head.
‘‘I had a telegram from her from
Plymouth to say that she was coming,
but I’ve seen nothing ot' her as yet.”
1 “You've changed your address, you
know,” Quest reminded her, after a
moment’s reflection.
“I wrote and told her,” Mrs. Willet
began. “After all, though,” she went
on thoughtfully, “I am not sure wheth
er she could have had the letter. Rut
If she went up to Hampstead, anyone
would tell her where I had moved to.
There's no secret about me.”
“Lenora did go up to 157 Elsmere
road yesterday,” Quest told her. “They
gave her your address here, as they
have just given it to me.”
“Then what's become of the child?”
Mrs. Willet demanded.
Quest, whose brain was working
quickly, scribbled upon one of his
cards the address of the hotel where
he had taken rooms and passed it
over.
“Why Lenora didn’t come on to you
here I can’t imagine,” he said. “How
ever, I'll go back to the hotel where
she was to spend the night after she
arrived. She may have gone back
there. That’s my address, Mrs. Willet.
If you hear anything I wish you’d let
me know’. Lenora’s quite a particular
friend of mine and I am a little anx
ious.”
Quest had already opened the front
door for himself and passed out. lie
sprang into the taxi, which he had
kept waiting.
“Clifford's hotel in Payne street,”
I he told the man.
He lit a cigar and smoked furiously
all the way, throwing it on to the pave
ment as he hurried into the quiet pri
vate hotel which a fellow passenger
on the steamer had recommended as
being suitable for Lenora's one night
alone in town.
'■‘Can you tell me if Miss Lenora
Macdougal is staying here?” he asked !
at the office.
The woman shook her head.
“Miss Macdougal stayed here the |
night before last,” she said, “and her
luggage is waiting for orders. She left
here yesterday afternoon to go to her
aunt's, and promised to send for her
things later on during the day. There
they stand, all ready for her.”
"What time did she go?”
“Directly after an early lunch. It
must have been about two o’clock ”
Quest hurried away. So after all
there was some foundation for this
queer sense of depression which had
been hovering about him for the last
few days!
“Scotland Yard," he told the taxi
driver.
He thrust another cigar between bis
i teeth, but forgot to light it. He was
I
___
Craig Escapes From the Cellar.
amazed at his own sensations, con- i
scious of fears and emotions of which
he would never have believed himself
capable. He gave in his card, and
after a few moments’ delay he was
shown into the presence of one of the
chiefs of the detective department,
who greeted him warmly.
“My name is Hardaway,” the latter
announced.
“My assistant, a young lady, Miss
Lenora Macdougal, has disappeared!
She and I and Professor Aslileigh left
the steamer at Plymouth and traveled
up in the boat train. It was stopped
at Hamblin road for the professor and (
myself, and Miss Macdougal came on
to London. She was staying at Clif
ford’s hotel in Payne street for the
night, and then going on to the aunt.
Well, I’ve found that aunt. She was
expecting the girl, but the girl never
appeared.
“Where did this aunt Jive?” Harda-1
way inquired.
"No. 17, Princess Court road, West
Kensington.” Quest replied. “She had
just moved there from Elsmere road,
Hampstead I went first to Hampstead.
Lenora had been there and learned
her aunt's correct address in West
Kensington I followed on to West
Kensington and found that the aunt
was still awaiting her."
“I’ll Give a Ten-Pound Note to Anyone Who Gets Me Out to the Barton Be
fore She Sails.”
A new interest seemed suddenly to
have crept into Hardaway's manner
“Let me see,” he said, ‘‘if she left
Clifford's hotel about two, she would
have been at Hampstead about half
past two She would waste a few min
utes in making inquiries, then she
probably left Hampstead for West
Kensington, say. at a quarter to three.
Give me at once a description of the
young lady,” he demanded.
Quest drew a photograph from his
pocket and passed it silently over.
‘‘Mr. Quest," he said, ‘‘it is just pos
sible that your visit here has been an
exceedingly opj>ortune one.”
“Come along with me,” he con
tinued. "We'll talk as we go."
They entered a taxi and drove off
westwards.
“Mr. Quest," he went on, “for two
months we have been on the track of
a man and a woman whom we strong
ly suspect of having decoyed half a
dozen perfectly respectable young
women, and shipped them out to South
America.”
“The white slave traffic!” Quest
gasped.
"Something of the sort," Hardaway
admitted. “Well, we've been closing
the net around this interesting couple,
and last night I had information
brought to me upon which we are act
ing this afternoon. We’ve had them
watched and it seems that they were
sitting in a tea place about three
o’clock yesterday afternoon when a
young woman entered who was ob
viously a stranger to I^ondon. You
see, the time fits in exactly, if your as
sistant decided to stop on her way to
Kensington and get some tea. She
asked the woman at the desk the best
means of getting to West Kensington
without taking a taxicab Her de
scription tallies exactly with the pho
tograph you have shown me The wom
an whom my men were watching ad
dressed her and offered to show her
the way. They left the place together
My men followed them. The house
has been watched ever since and we
are raiding it this afternoon. You and
I will just be in time."
He stopped the cab and they got
out, A man who seemed to bo stroll
ing aimlessly along reading a newspa
per suddenly joined them.
"Well, Dixon?" his chief exclaimed
The man glanced around.
“I’ve got three men round at the
back, Mr. Hardaway,” he said "It's
impossible for anyone to leave the
place.”
Hardaway paused to consider a mo
ment.
'Look here," Quest suggested, "they
know all of you, of course, and they’ll
never let you in until they're forced
to. I'm a stranger. Let me go. I ll
get in all right.”
"All right,” he assented. “We shall
follow you up pretty closely, though.”
Quest stepped back into the taxi and
gave the driver a direction. When he
emerged in front of the handsome gray
stone house he seemed to have be- :
come completely transformed. There
was a fatuous smile upon his lips. He
crossed the pavement with difficulty, j
stumbling up the steps, and held on
the knocker with one hand while he
consulted a slip of paper. He had
scarcely rung the bell before a slightly
parted curtain in the front room fell
together and a moment later the door
was opened by a man in the livery of
a butler, but with the face and phy
sique of a prizq-fighter.
“Lady of the house," Quest demand
ed. "Want to see the lady of the
house."
Almost immediately he was con- |
seious of a woman standing in Hie hall '
before him.
“You had better come in," she in- j
vited “Mease do not stand in the
doorway.”
Quest, however, who had heard the
footsteps of the others behind him, loi
tered there for a moment.
"You’re the lady whose name is on
this piece of paper?” he demanded
"This place is all right, eh?"
“1 really de not know what yon
mean,” tlie woman replied coldly;“but
if you will come inside 1 will talk with
you in the drawing room."
Quest, as thourh stumbling against
the front doer, had it now wide open,
and in a moment the hall seemed full j
I The woman shrieked. The butler sud
denly sprang upon the last man to en
ter and sent him spinning down the
steps Almost at that instant there
was a scream from upstairs. Quest
took a running jump and went up the
stairs four at a time. The butler, who
had so far defied arrest, suddenly
snatched the revolver from Hard
away's hand and fired blindly in front
of him, missing Quest only by an inch
or two.
‘•Don’t be a fool, Karl!" the woman
called out. “The game’s up. Take it
quietly.”
Once more the shriek rang through
the house. Quest rushed to the door
of the room from whence it came, tried
the handle, and found it locked. He
ran back a little tray and charged it.
From inside he could hear a turmoil of
voices. White with rage ana passion
he pushed and kicked madly. There
was a shot from inside, a bullet came
through the door within an inch of his
head, then the crash of broken crock
ery and a man's groan. With a final
effort Quest dashed the door in and
staggered into the room. Lenora
was standing in the far corner, the
front of her dttoss torn and blond upon
her lips. She held a revolver in her
j hand, and was covering a man whose
i head and hands were bleeding Around
| him were the dehrls of a broken jug.
“Mr. Quest!” she screamed. “Don’t
I go near him—I’ve got him covered.
I'm all right.”
i Quest drew a long breath. The man
who stood glaring at him was well
| dressed and still young. He was un
! armed, however, and Quest secured
' him in a moment.
“The girl's mad!" he said sullenly
“No one wanted to do her any harm.”
Hardaway and his men rame troop
I ing up the stairs. Quest relinquished
his prisoner and went over to Lenora.
“I've been so frightened." she
sobbed “They got tue in here.—they
told me that this was the street In
which my aunt lived—and they
wouldn't let me go. TJie woman was
horrible. And this afternoon this man
came. The brute!” ,
Quest turned to Hardaway.
“I'll take the young lady away," he
said. “You know where to find us.”
I^enora had almost recovered when
they reached the hotel. Walking up
and down they found the professor
"My friend!" he exclaimed—“Mr.
Quest! It is the devil incarnate
against whom we fight!"
"What do you mean?" Quest de
manded.
The professor wrung his hands.
“I put him in our James II pris
on,” he declared. "Why should I
think of the secret passage? No
one has used it for a hundred years.
He found it, learned the trick—”
“You mean.” Quest cried—
“He has escaped!" the professor
broke in. “Craig has escaped agafh!.<
They are searching for him high and
low, but he has gone!"
Quest’s arm tightened for a moment
in Lcnora's. It was curious how he
seemed to have lost at that moment
all sense of proportion. Lenora was
safe . . . the relief of that one
(nought overshadowed everything else
in the world,
“The fellow can't get far," he mut
tered,
“Who knows?" the professor re
plied, dolefully.
They had been standing together in
a little recess of the hall. Suddenly
Lenora, whose face was turned to
ward the entrance doors, gave a little
cry. She took a quirk step forward.
“I-aura!” r,he exclaimed, wonder
ingly. “Why. it's i.aura!"
They all turnpd around, A young
woman had just entered the hotel,
followed by a porter carrying some
luggage. Her arm was in a sling and
there was a bandage around her fore
head. She walked, too, with the help
of a stick. She recognized them at
once and waved It gayly.
“Hullo, you people!" she cried
"Soon run you to earth, eh?"
They were for a moment dum
founded. I.enora was the first to find
words. "Put when did you start
I-aura?" she asked. “I thought you
were too ill to move for weeks."
The girl smiled contemptuously.
"I left three days after you, on the
Kaiser Frederic," she replied. “There
was some trouble at Plymouth, and
we came Into Southampton early this
morning, and here 1 am. Say, before
we go any further, tell me about
Craig."
“We've had him,” Quest confessed
"and lost him again. He escaped last
night”
“Where from?” Laura asked.
“Hamblin house.”
“8ay, Is that anywhere near the
south coast?" the girl demanded ex
citedljr
“It’s not far away,” Quest replied
quickly. “Why?”
“I’ll tell you why,” Laura explained
“I was as sure of it as anyone could
be. Craig passed me in Southampton
water this morning, being rowed out
to a steamer. Not only that, but he
recognized me. I saw him draw back
and hide his face, but somehow 1
couldn't believe that it was really he
I was just coming down the gangway
and I nearly fell into the sea, I war.
so surprised."
Quest was already turning over the
pages of the timetable.
"What was the steamer?” he de
manded.
“I found out,” Laura told him. “I
tell you, I was so sure of it's being
Craig that I made no end of inquir
ies. It was the Rarton, bound for
India, first stop Port Said."
"When does she sail?” Quest asked.
Tonight—somewhere about seven,"
Laura replied
Quest glanced at the clock and
threw down the timetable. He turned
toward the door. They all followed
him.
"I'm for Southampton,” he an
nounced. “I’m going to try to get on
board that ateamer before she sails.
I-enora, you'd better go upstairs and
lie down. They'll give you a room
here Don't you stir out till I come
back. Professor, what about you?”
"I shall accompany you,” the pro
fessor declared.
"And nothing,” Denora declared,
firmly, as she caught at Quest’s arm.
"would keep me away.”
“I'll telephone to Scotland Yard, in
case they care to send a man down,”
Quest decided.
They caught a train to Southamp
ton. where they were joined by a man
from Scotland Yard. The little party
drove as quickly as possible to the
docks.
“Where does the Barton start
from?” Quest asked the piermaster.
The man pointed out a little way
down the water.
“She’s not in dock, sir.” he said.
“She's lying out yonder. You'll bare
ly catch her, I'm afraid,” he added,
glancing at the clock.
They hurried to the edge of the
quay.
"I^ook here," Quest cried, raising:
his voice, “I'll give a ten-pound note
to anyone who gets me out to the
Rarton before she sails.”
The little party were almost thrown
into a tug, and in a few- minutes they
w-ere skimming across the smooth-,
water. Just as they reached the
steamer, however, she began to move-.
“Run up alongside," Quest orderedt.
The captain came down from the
bridge, where he had been conferring;
with the pilot.
"Keep away from the side there,”
he shouted. “Who are you?”
“We are In search of a desperate
criminal whom we believe to be om
Quest Secures Him In a Moment. |
board your steamer,” Queat explained.
"Please take us on board."
The captain shook his head.
“Are you from Scotland Yard?" he
asked. "Have you got your warrantT\
"We are from America,” Quest an
swered, "but we’ve got a Scot’iand:
Yard man with us and a warrant,
right enough."
The captain shook his head. *
“I am over an hour late," he said,
"and It's costing me fifty pounds a
minute. If I take you on board, you'll
have to come right along with me, un
less you find the fellow before we're
left your tub behind."
Quest turned around. 4
"Will you risk It?" he asked.
"Yea!" they all replied. ~ 'i
“We’re coming, captain," Qufeet <Te-.
etdpd.
A rope ladder was let dowm Thei
steamer began to slow down. *
The captain spoke once more do
the pilot and came down from the
bridge.
"I’m forced to go full speed ahead
to cross the bar," he told Qu^. “im
sorry, but the tide's lust on,4he turn ”
They looked at one a^oftier a little
blankly.
The professor, however, beamed
upon them all.
“1 have always understood." he
said, "that Port Said is a most inter
esting place.”
(TO BB CONTINUED.) >