The BLACK BOX
By E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM
Author of "Mr. Grex of Monte
Carlo. " The Vanished Mess
enger." “TheLighted tVqy." etc.
NOV*^<,oh^5‘ri"KUm^uSJ&ri£mcZmDfnl “Tl* u",*”*. i fh by *h*
photograph* from the motion picture production
(Copyright, 1*16, by Otis F. Wood.)
SYNOPSIS.
Sanford Quest, master crtmlnoloeist of
the world, finds that In bringing to Jus
tice Macdougal. the murderer of I^rrd
Ashlelgh's daughter, he has but Just en
tered a llfe-and-death Contest with a mys
terloussmaster criminal. Engaged by J’ro
fessor Ashlelgh, Lord Ashlelgh's brother,
to recover the stolen skeleton of an an
thropoid ape, hurried to Mrs. Rhelnholdt'a
reception, where her diamonds have been
torn from her throat by a pair of hands
without arms or body, a black box laier
appears from nowhere In his rooms and a
note contained In It, signed by the arm
less hands, sarcastically suggests that the
Rhelnholdt diamonds and the skeleton
may be hidden together. While Laura,
Quest's secretary, shadows Craig, the pro- I
fessor's valet. Quest and lenora, Ids as
sistant, find the skeleton in a hut In the
professor's garden, and discover there an
Inhuman creature, half monkey and half
man. As the professor explains, the hut
Is set afire and the monkey-man and
skeleton are destroyed In the flames. In
Quest's rooms the Rhelnholdt diamonds i
suddenly reappear, enclosed in a second
black box with a note signed by the
threatening hands.
FOURTH INSTALLMENT
AN OLD GRUDGE.
' CHAPTER X.
8anford Qudbt was smoking his
after-breakfast cigar with a relish
somewhat affected by the measure of
his perplexities. Early though It was,
Lenora was already In her place, bend
ing over her desk, and Laura, who had
Just arrived, was busy divesting her
self of her coat and hat. Quest watched
the latter Impatiently.
‘'Well?” he asked.
Laura came forward, straightening
her hair with her hands.
"No go," she answered. “I spent the
evening In the club, and I talked with
two men who knew Craig, but I
couldn’t get on to anything. From all
I could hear of the man, respectabil
ity Is his middle name.”
I “That’s the professor’s own Idea,”
Que&t remarked grimly.
“We’re fairly up against It, boss.”
Laura sighed. "The best thing we
can do Is to get on to another job.
tThe Rheinholdt woman has got her
Jewels back, or will have at noon to
day. 1 bet she won't worry about the
thief. Then the professor’s moldy old
skeleton was returned to him, even If
It was burned up afterwards. I should
take on something fresh.”
“Can’t be done,” Quest replied short
ly. “Look here, girls, your average
Intellects are often apt to hit upon
the truth, when a man who sees too
far ahead goes wrong Rule Craig
out. Any other possible person occur
to you? Speak out, Lenora. You’ve
something on your mind, I can see.”
I “I’m afraid you’ll laugh at me.” she
began tentatively.
“Won’t hurt you If I do," Quest re
plied.
“I can't help thinking of Macdou
gal,” Lenora continued falterlngly. “He
has never been recaptured. I don’t
know whether he’s dead or alive. He
had a perfect passion for jewels. If
he I* alive, he would be desperate and
would attempt anything.”
Quest smoked in silence for a mo
ment.
‘i guess the return of the Jewels
; squelched the Macdougal theory,” he
remarked. “He wouldn't be likely to
part with the stuff when he’d once got
his hands on it. However, I always
meant, when we had a moment's spare
time, to look Into (that fellow's where
' aboufs. We'll take It on straight
away. Can’t do any harm.”
"I know the section boss on the
Tatiway at the spot where he disap
peared," Laura announced.
“Then Just take the train down to
Mountways—that’s the nearest spot—
and get busy with him,” Quest direct
ed. "Try and persuade him to loan
us the gang's handcar to go down the |
line. Lenora and I will come on in
the automobile.”
"Take you longer," Lenora re
marked as she moved off to put on
her Jacket. "The cars do It in a
quarter of an hour.”
“Can't help that." Quest replied.
"Mrs. Reinholdt's coming here to tden
tlfy her Jewels at twelve o'clock, and l
can't run any risk of there being no
train hack. You'd better be making
good with the section boss. Take
plenty of bills with you."
"Sure! That's easy enough,” Laura
promised him. “I’ll be waiting for
jyou.”
She hurried ofT and Quest com
j meneed his own preparations. From
his safe he took one of the small
black lumps of explosive to which he
had once before owed his life, and fit
ted it carefully In a small case with
a coil of wire and an electric lighter.
He looked at his revolver and re
charged it. Finally he rang the bell
for his confidential valet.
"Ross,” he asked, "who else is there
here today besides you?”
“No one today, sir.”
“Just as well, perhaps," Quest oh
served. “Listen. Ross. I am going out
i now for an hour or two, but I shall be
back flt midday. Remember that. Mrs
Rlieinholdt and Inspector French are
to be here at twelve o’clock. If by
any chance 1 should be a few minutes
late, ask them to wait. And, Ross.
• young woman from the Salvation
Army will call too. You can give her
this check.”
Rons Brown, who was Quest's secre
tary-valet and general factotum, ac
cepted the slip of paper and placed it
In an envelope.
"There are no other Instructions,
sir?" he Inquired.
"None,” Quest replied. "You'll look
out for the wireless, and you had bet
ter switch the through cable and tel
egraph communication on to head
quarters. Come on, Lenora.”
They left the house, entered the
waiting automobile, and drove rapid
ly towards the confines of the city.
By Quest's directions the automo
bile was brought to a standstill at a
point where it skirted the main rail
way line, and close to the section
house which he had appointed for
his rendezvous with Laura. She had
apparently seen their approach, and
she came out to meet them at once, ac
companied by a short, thick-set man
whom she introduced as Mr. Horan.
"This is Mr. Horan, the section
boss," she explained.
Mr. Horan shook hands.
“Say, I’ve heard of you, Mr. Quest,”
he announced. “The young lady tells
me you are some Interested In that
prisoner they lost off the cars near
here.”
“That’s so,” Quest admitted. “We'd
like to go to the spot If we could.”
“That’s dead easy,” the boss re
plied. "I’ll take you along on the
handcar.”
The section boss turned round and
whistled. From a little side track two
men Jumped on to a handcar, and
brought it around to where they were
standing. A few yards away the man
who was propelling it—a great, red
headed Irishman—suddenly ceased his
efforts. Leaning over his pole, he
gazed at Quest. A sudden ferocity
darkened his coarse face. He gripped
his mate by the arm.
"See that bloke there?” he asked,
pointing at Quest.
“The guy with the linen collar?" the
other answered. "I see him.”
“That’s Quest, the detective,” the
Irishmarf went on hoarsely. “That's
the man who got me five years in the
pen, the beast! That’s the man I’ve
been looking for. You’re my mate,
Jim, eh?”
”1 guess so." the other grunted.
“Are you going to try and do him in?"
“Now then, you fellows,” Horan
shouted. "What are you hanging about
there for. Red Gallagher? Bring the
carriage up. You fellows can have a
smoke for an hour. I’m going to take
her down the line for a bit.”
The two men obeyed and disap
peared in the direction of the section
house. Quest looked after them curi
ously.
"That’s a big fellow,” he remarked.
"What did you call him? Red Galla
gher? I seem to have seen him be
fore."
He was the most troublesome rel
low on the line once, although he was
the biggest worker," the boss replied
"He got five years In the penitentiary
and that seems to have taken the
spirit out of him.”
“I believe I was in the case,” Quest
observed carelessly.
"That’s so! Now then, young la
dies,” Mr. Horan advised, "hold tight,
and here goes!”
They ambled down the line for
about half a mile. Then Horan
brought them to standstill.
“This is the spot,” he declared
"Now, Tf you want my Impressions you
are welcome to them. All the search
has been made on the right-hand side
here and In New York. I’ve had my
eye on that hill for a long time. My
impression is that he hid there.”
"I’ll take your advice,” Quest de
cided. "We’ll spread out and take a
little exercise in hJll climbing.”
“flood luck to you!” the boss ex
claimed.
They searched carefully and delib
erately for more than half an hour
Then Laura suddenly called out. They
looked around to find only her head
visible. She scrambled up, muddy and
with wet leaves clinging to her skirt
"Say, that guy of a section boss
told me to look out for caves. I've
been in one, sure enough! Only Just
sated myself.”
They hurried to where she was.
Quest i>eerod Into the declivity down
which she had slipped. Suddenly he
gave vent to a little exclamation. At
the same time Laura called out. An
inch or two of tweed was clearly vis
ible through the strewn leaves. Quest,
flat on his stomach, crawled a little
way down, took out his electric torch
from his pocket and brushed the stuff
away. Then he clambered to his feet.
“Our search is over,” he declared
gravely, “and your troubles, Lenora
That is Macdougal’s body.”
Lenora’s face sank into her hands
for a moment. Quest stood on one
side while Laura passed her arm
around the other girl's waist.
Quest glanced at his watch.
"I’ll have to get,” he said, “but I’ll
lend someone along. Cheer up, Le
iora,” he added kindly. "Look after
her, Laura.”
Quest hastened along the road to
the spot where he had left the car.
The chauffeur, who saw him coming,
started up and climbed to his seat.
Quest took his place.
"Drive to the office,” he ordered.
The man slipped in his clutch. They
were in the act of gliding off when
there was a tremendous report. They
stopped short. The man jumped down
and looked at the back tire.
"Blowout,” he remarked laconically.
Quest frowned.
"How long will it take?”
“Four minutes," the man replied.
! “I’ve got another wheel ready. That’s
the queerest blowout I ever saw,
I though.”
The two men leaned over the tire.
Suddenly Quest's expression changed.
| His hand stole into his hip pocket.
“Tom,” he explained, "that wasn't a
blowout at all. Look here!”
He pointed to the small level hole.
Almost at once he stood back and the
sunshine flashed upon the revolver
clutched in his right hand.
“That was a bullet," he continued.
"Someone fired at that tire. Tom,
there’s trouble about.”
The man looked nervously around.
"That’s a rifle bullet, sure,” he mut
tered.
"Get on the wheel as quick as you
can,” Quest directed. "Here, I’ll give
you a hand.”
He stoopped down to unfasten the
straps which fastened the spare wheel.
It was one of his rare lapses, realized
a moment too late. Almost in his ears
came the hoarse cry:
"Hands up, guvnor! Hands up this
second or I’ll blow you to hell!”
Quest glanced over his shoulder and
looked into the face of Red Gallagher,
raised a little above the level of the
road. A very ugly little revolver was
pointed directly at Quest’s heart.
"My mate’s got you covered on the
other side of the road, too. Hands up,
both of you, or we’ll make a quick job
of it.”
wuesi snruggea ms snoumers, threw
his revolver Into the road and obeyed.
As he did so, the other man stole out
from behind a bush and sprang for
the chauffpur, who under rover of the
car was stealing off. There was a
brief struggle, then the dull thud of
the railway man's rifle falling on the
chauffeur's head. He rolled over and
lay in the road.
“Pitch him oflT amongst the bushes,”
Red Gallagher ordered. “You don’t
want anyone who comes by to see.
Now lend me a hand with this chap.”
"What do you propose to do with
me?” Quest asked.
"You'll know soon enough,” Red Gal
lagher answered. "A matter of five
minutes' talk, to start with. You see
that handcar house?"
“Perfectly well," Quest assented.
“My eyesight is quite normal.”
"Get there then. I’m a yard behind
you and my revolver’s pointing for
the middle of your back.”
Quest sprang lightly down from the
road, crossed the few intervening
yards and stepped into the handcar
house.
Gallagher and his mate followed
close behind. Quest paused on the
threshold
"It's a filthy dirty hole,” he re
marked. "Can't we have our little
chat out here? Is it money you
want?"
Gallagher glanced around. Then
with an ugly push of the shoulder he
sent Quest reeling Into the shed. His
great form blocked up the doorway.
"No,” he cried fiercely, "it’s not
money 1 want this time. Quest, you
brute, you dirty bloodhound! You
sent me to the pen for five years—you
L
i
“Hands Up, Guvnor!”
with your cursed prying Into other
people's affairs. Don't you remember
me, eh? Red Gallagher?"
"Of course I do,” Guest replied
coolly. "You garroted and robbed au
old man and had the spree of your life
The old man happened to be a friend
of mine, so I took the trouble to see
that you paid for it. Well?”
"Five years of hell, that's what 1
had,” the man continued, his eyes
flashing, his face twitching with an
ger. “Well, you're going to have a
little bit more than five years. This
shed’s been burnt down twice, sparks
from passing engines. It’s going to
be burnt down for the third time.”
“Sounds remarkably unpleasant,”
Quest admitted. "You'd better hurry
or the boss will be back.”
Gallagher tinally slammed the door.
' Quest heard the heavy footsteps of
the two men as they turned toward
the section house. He drew a little
case from his pocket.
He opened what seemed to he a
little mahogany box, looked at the ball
"You Don’t—You Don’t Suspect Me of This?”
of black substance inside, closed it up
placed it against the far wall, un
twisted the coll, stood back near the
door and then pressed the button. The
result was extraordinary. The whole
of the far wall was blown .out and for
some distance in front the ground
was furrowed up by the explosion
Quest replaced the Instrument in his
pocket, sprang through (he opening
and ran for the tower house. Behind
him on its way to New York he could
see a freight train coming along. He
could hear, too. Red Gallagher's roar
of anger. It wss less than fifty yards,
yet as soon as lie reached the shelter
of the tower the thunder of the freight
sounded in Quest's ears. He glanced
around. Red Gallagher and his mate
were racing almost side by side to
wards him. He rushed up the narrow
stairs into the signal room, tearing
open his coat to show his official badge.
"Stop the freight,” he shouted to the
operator. “Quick. I'm Sanford Quest,
detective special powers from the
chief commissioner."
The man moved to the signal. An
other voice thundered in his ears He
turned swiftly around. The Irishman's
red head had appeared at the top of
the staircase.
Drop that signal or I 11 blow you
into hits," he shouted.
The operator hesitated, dazed.
"Walk towards me," Gallagher
shouted, "l.ook here, you guy, this
will show you whether I'm in earnest
or not!”
A bullet passed within a few inehes
of the operator's head. He came slow
ly across the room. Below they could
hear the roar of the freight.
“This ain't your job," the Irishman
continued savagely. "We want the
cop. and we're going to have him.”
Quest had stolen a yard or two
nearer during this brief colloquy, Gal
f lagher's mate from behind shouted out
I a warning just a second too late With
a sudden kick, Quest sent the re
volver flying across the room and be
fore the Irishman could recover he
struck him full in the face. Notwith
standing his huge size and strength,
Gallagher reeled. The operator who
had just begun to realize what was
happening flung himself bodily against
the two thugs. A shot from the tan
gled mass of struggling limits whis
tied past Quest's head as he sprang
to the window which overlooked the
track. The freight had already almost
passed. Quest steadied himself for a
supreme effort, crawled out on the lit
tle steel bridge and poised himself for
a moment. The last ear was lust be
neath. The gap between it and the
previous one was slipping by. He set
his teeth and jumped on the smooth
top.
Back behind (he tower Red Galla
gher and his mate bent with horrified
faces over the body of the signalman.
"What the hell did you want to plug
him for?” the latter muttered. “He
ain’t in the show at all. You’ve done
us, Red, he's cooked!”
Red Gallagher staggered to his feet.
Already the horror of the murderer
was in his face as he glanced furtive
ly around.
“I never meant to drop him," he
muttered. "I got mad at seeing Quest
get off That man's a devil.”
“What are we going to do?” the
other demanded hoarsely.
“There s the auto, Gallagher shout
ed. “Come on, old man! I can fix
the wheel. If we’ve pot to swing for
this job. we’ll have something of our
own back first.”
They crawled to the side of the
road. Gallagher's rough, hairy fingers
were st.i 11 trembling, but they l.new
'.heir job. In a few minutes the wheel
was fixed. Clumsily but successfully,
the great Irishman turned the car
around away from the city.
“She’s a hummer," he muttered. “I’ll
make her go when we get the hang of
it. Sit tight.”
They drove clumsily off, gathering
speed at every yard. Behind, in the
shadow of the tower, the signalman
lay dead. Quest, half way to New
York, stretched flat on his stomach,
was struggling for life with knees and
hands and feet.
CHAPTER XI.
Mrs. Rheinholdt welcomed the in
spector with a beaming smile as he
stepped out of his office and ap
proached her automobile.
“How nice of you to be so punctual,
Mr. French," she exclaimed, making
room for him by her side. “Will you
tell the man to drive to Mr. Quest’s
house In Georgia square?”
The Inspector obeyed and took his
place in the luxurious limousine
“How beautifully punctual we are!”
she'continued, glancing at the clock.
"Inspector, I am so excited at the idea
of getting iny jewels back. Isn't Mr.
Quest a wonderful man?”
"He's a clever chat), all right,” the
inspector admitted. "All the same,
i'ni rather sorry he wasn’t able to lay
hands on the thief.”
“That’s your point of view, of
course," Mrs Rhelnholdt remarked. “I
can think of nothing but having my
diamonds back. I feel I ought to go
and thank the professor for recorn
mending Mr. Quest."
The inspector made no reply. Mtb.
Rhelnholdt was suddenly aware that
she was becoming a little tactless.
“Of course." she sighed, "it is dis
appointing not to be able to lay your
hands upon the thief. That Is whore
I suppose you must find the interfer
ence of an amateur like Mr. Quest a
little troublesome sometimes. He gets
back the property, which is what the
private individual wants, but he
doesn't secure the thief, which is. of
course, the real end of the case from
your point of view.”
ii s a queer anair anoui tnese lew
ols," the inspector remarked. "Quest
hasn't told me the whole story yet
Here we are on the stroke of time!"
Thp car drew up outside Quest’s
house. The Inspector assisted his
companion to alight and rang the bell
at the front door. There was a some
what prolonged pause. He rang again
"Never knew this to happen before,"
he remarked. "That sort of secretary
valet of Mr. Quest's—Ross Brown 1
think he calls him—is always on tht
spot." They waited for Botne time
there was still no answer to their sum
mons. The inspector placed his ear tc
the keyhole. There was not a sound
to be heard. He drew back, a litth
puzzled. At that moment his atten
tion was caught by the fluttering of s
fragment of white embroidery, and on
it were several small stains. The In
spector looked at them and looked at
his fingers. His face grew suddenl)
grave.
“Seems to me," he muttered, “tha'
there lias been some trouble here. 1
shall have to take a liberty. If you’ll
excuse me, Mrs. Rheinholdt, I think It
would be better if you waited in th<
car until I send out for you.”
"You don't think the jewels havi
been stolen again?” she gasped.
The inspector made no reply. Hi
had drawn front his pocket a litth
pass key and was fitting it into tin
lock. The door swung open. Onci
more they were botli conscious of tha
peculiar silence, which seemed to Itavt
it. it some unnamable quality. Hi
moved to the foot of the stairs am
shouted:
“Hello! Anyone there?"
There was no reply. He opened thi
doors o the two rooms on the right
hand side, where Quest, when he wai
engaged in any widespread affair, kepi
a stenographer and a telegraph oper
ator. Both rooms were empty. Then
he turned towards Quest's study on
the left hand side. French was a man
of iron nerve. No power on earth
could have kept back the cry which
broke from his lips.
A few feet away from the door w^
stretched the body of the secretary
valet. On the other side of the room,
lying as though she had slipped from
the sofa, her head fallen on .one side
in hideous fashion, was the body ol
Miss Quigg. the Salvation Army young
woman. French set his teeth and
drew back the curtains. In the clear
er light the disorder of the room was
fully revealed. Thefe had been a ter
rihlo struggle. Between whom? How?
There was suddenly a piercing
shriek. The inspector turned quickly
around. Mrs. Rheinholdt, w'ho had dis
regarded his advice, was standing on
the threshold.
“Inspector!” she cried. “What has
happened? Oh, my God!”
She covered her face with hei
hands. French gripped her by th<
arm. At that moment there was the
sound of an automobile stopping out
side.
"Keep quiet for a moment," the in
spector whispered in her car. “Pull
yourself together, madam. Go to the
other end of the room. Don’t look
Stay there for a few moments and
then get home as quick as you can.'
She obeyed him mutely, pressing,
her hands to her eyes, shivering in
every limb. French, stood back inside
tlu room, lie heard the front door
open, he heard Quest’s voice outside
“Where the devil are you, Ross?”
There was no reply.
The door was pushed open. Quest
entered, followed by the professor and
(’raig. The inspector stood watching
^.lieir faces. Quest came to a stand
Still before he had passed the thresh
old. He looked upon the floor and he
looked across to the sofa. ThA ho
looked at French.
"My God!” he muttered.
The professor pushed past. He had
looked around the room, and gazed a;
the two bodies with an expression of
blank and absolute terror Then he
fell back into Craig's arms.
"The poor girl!” he cried. "Horri
ble! Horrible! Horrible!”
"Know anything about this?" Queat
asked quickly.
"Not a thing," the Inspector replied
"We arrived, Mrs. Rheinholdt and 1.
at five minutes past twelve. There
was no answer to our ring. I used
my pass key and entered. This is
what I found.”
Quest stood over the body of his
valet for a moment. The man was ob
vtously dead. The inspector took his
handkerchief and covered up the head
A few feet away was a heavy paper
weight.
"Killed by a blow from behind,”
French remarked grimly, “with that
little affair. Look here!”
They glanced down at the girl
Quest's eyebrows came together quick
ly. There were two blue marks upon
her throat where a man's thumbs
might have been.
“The hands again.” he muttered.
The Inspector nodded.
“Can you make anything of it?”
"Not yet," Quest confessed. "I must
think.”
The inspector glanced at him curl
ously.
"Where on eartli have you been to?"
he demanded.
"fleen to?" Quest repeated.
“Look in the mirror!" French sug
gested.
Quest glanced at himself. His col
lar had given way, his tie was torn, a
button and some of the cloth had been
wrenched from his coat, his trousers
were torn and he was covered with
dust.
"I’ll tell you about my trouble a lit
tie later on." he replied. "Say. can’t
we keep those girls out?"
They were too igte. Laura and Len
ora were already upon the threshold.
Quest swung round toward them.
“Girls," he said, “there has been
some trouble here. Go and wait up
stairs, Lenora, or sit in the hall.
He Set Hie Teeth and Jumped. |
Laura, you had bettor telephone to
the police station and for a doctor.
That’s right, isn't tt, inspector?"
"Yes!” the latter assented thought
fully.
Lenora, white to the lips, staggered
a few feet back into the hall. Laura
set her teeth and lingered.
"Is that Ross?” she asked.
“It’s his body." Quest replied. "He's
been murdered here, he and the Salva
tion Army girl who was to come this
morning for her check.”
Laura turned away half dazed.
“I’d have trusted Ross with my life,’’
Quest continued, “but he must have
been alone In the house when the gtrl
came. Do you suppose it was the
usual sort of trouble?"
Inspector French stooped down and
picked up the paper-weight. Across it
was stamped the name of Sanford
Quest.
"This yours, Quest?”
“Of course It is,” Quest answered.
“Everything in the room is mine.”'
“The girl would fight to defend her
self," the inspector remarked slowly,,
“but she could never strike a man such
a blow as your valet died from.”
French stooped and picked up a.
small clock. It had stopped at eleven
fifteen. He looked at it thoughtfully.
"Quest,” he went on, "Ml have to»
ask you a question."
"Why net?” Quest replied looking;
quickly up.
"Where were you at eleven fifteen ?”’
“On tower No. 10 of the New York
Central, scrapping for my life,” Quest
answered grimly. "I’ve reason to re
member It."
Something in the Inspector’s steady
gaze seemed to inspire the crimlnoloe
gist with a new Idea. Hejcame a step)
forward, a little frown upon his fore
head.
"Say, French," he exclaimed, "youi
don't—you don't suspect me of tills?**
French was unmoved. He lookedl
Quest in the eyes.
”1 don’t know." he said.
ITO BE CONTINUED.)