"Elaine is gone--no one knows how or where," announced Craig as he leaped out of bed that morning to answer the furious ringing of our telephone bell.
It was very early, but Craig dressed hurriedly and I followed as best I could, for he had the start of me, tieless and collarless.
When we arrived at the Dodge house, Aunt Josephine and Marie were fully dressed. Jennings let us in.
"What has happened?" demanded Kennedy breathlessly.
While Aunt Josephine tried to tell him, Craig was busy examining the room.
"Let us see the library," he said at length.
Accordingly down to the library we went. Kennedy looked about. He seemed to miss something.
"Where is the armor?" he demanded.
"Why, the men came for it and took it away to repair," answered Jennings.
Kennedy"s brow clouded in deep thought.
Outside we had left our taxi, waiting. The door was open and a new footman, James, was sweeping the rug, when past him flashed a dishevelled hairy streak.
We were all standing there still as Craig questioned Jennings about the armor. With a yelp Rusty tore frantically into the room. A moment he stopped and barked. We all looked at him in surprise. Then, as no one moved, he seemed to single out Kennedy. He seized Craig"s coat in his teeth and tried to drag him out.
"Here, Rusty--down, sir, down!" called Jennings.
"No, Jennings, no," interposed Craig. "What"s the matter, old fellow?"
Craig patted Rusty whose big brown eyes seemed mutely appealing. Out of the doorway he went, barking still. Craig and I followed while the rest stood in the vestibule.
Rusty was trying to lead Kennedy down the street!
"Wait here," called Kennedy to Aunt Josephine, as he stepped with me on the running board of the cab. "Go on, Rusty, good dog!"
Rusty needed no urging. With an eager yelp he started off, still barking, ahead of us, our car following. On we went, much to the astonishment of those who were on the street at such an early hour.
It seemed miles that we went, but at last we came to a peculiarly deserted looking house. Here Rusty turned in and began scratching at the door. We jumped off the cab and followed.
The door was locked when we tried and from inside we could get no answer. We put our shoulders to it and burst it in. Rusty gave a leap forward with a joyous bark.
We followed, more cautiously. There were pieces of armor strewn all over the floor. Rusty sniffed at them and looked about, disappointed, then howled.
I looked from the armor to Kennedy, in blank amazement.
"Elaine was kidnapped--in the armor," he cried.
He was right. Meanwhile, the armor repairers had stopped at last at this apparently deserted house, a strange sort of repair shop. Still keeping it wrapped in blankets, they had taken the armor out of the wagon and now laid it down on an old broken bed. Then they had unwrapped it and taken off the helmet.
There was Elaine!
She had been stupefied, bound and gagged. Piece after piece of the armor they removed, finding her still only half conscious.
"Sh! What"s that?" cautioned one of the men. They paused and listened.
Sure enough, there was a sound outside. They opened the window cautiously. A dog was scratching on the door, endeavoring to get in. It was Rusty.
"I think it"s her dog," said the man, turning. "We"d better let him in.
Someone might see him."
The other nodded and a moment later the door opened and in ran Rusty.
Straight to Elaine he went, starting to lick her hand.
"Right--her dog," exclaimed the other man, drawing a gun and hastily levelling it at Rusty.
"Don"t!" cautioned the first. "It would make too much noise. You"d better choke him!"
The fellow grabbed for Rusty. Rusty was too quick. He jumped. Around the room they ran. Rusty saw the wide open window--and his chance. Out he went and disappeared, leaving the man cussing at him.
A moment"s argument followed, then they wrapped Elaine in the blankets alone, still bound and gagged, and carried her out.
In the secret den, the Clutching Hand was waiting, gazing now and then at his watch, and then at the wounded man before him. In a chair his first a.s.sistant sat, watching Dr. Morton.
A knock at the door caused them to turn their heads. The crook opened it and in walked the other crooks who had carried off Elaine in the suit of armor.
Elaine was now almost conscious, as they sat her down in a chair and partly loosed her bonds and the gag. She gazed about, frightened.
"Oh--help! help!" she screamed as she caught sight of the now familiar mask of the Clutching Hand.
"Call all you want--here, young lady," he laughed unnaturally. "No one can hear. These walls are soundproof!"
Elaine shrank back.
"Now, doc.," he added harshly to Dr. Morton. "It was she who shot him.
Her blood must save him."
Dr. Morton recoiled at the thought of torturing the beautiful young girl before him.
"Are--you willing--to have your blood transfused?" he parleyed.
"No--no--no!" she cried in horror,
Dr. Morton turned to the desperate criminal. "I cannot do it."
"The deuce you can"t!" A cold steel revolver pressed down on Dr.