10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 31: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

—______—_—_i00T OF THE LAUGHING GHOUL—————_——29 The hazel eyes met his unwaver- ingly. “I’m afraid I don’t understand you,” she said. “Does D-1 mean anything to you?” he pressed. Once more she shook her head. “I’m afraid it doesn’t,” she replied. “How does it happen you have left the hotel?” was his next question. ‘T’m tired of hotels. I thought I would try this.” “And you picked this house quite by accident?” “Quite.” Paul Hammond arose and turned toward the door. He had too many im- portant things demanding his atten- tion to waste his time fencing with Bette Langwell. She was too skilled in the art of verbal combat to permit him to trap her in a short conversa- tion. “Sorry to have bothered you, Miss Langwell,”” he said when he had reached the door, “I’m delighted to see you again. Won’t you call again?” She knew that she had triumphed in their short passage of arms, Both were playing a game.and realized that the other’s pretenses had no more substance than the fog outside. Ham- mond took up the gauntlet. “T’ll be charmed to call.” “Any time, Mr. Hammond. I sel- dom leave the house,” Bette Lang- well told him. AMMOND hurried back to his taxicab and gave orders to re- turn to the Danvers. He must get in touch with D. J. and summon a swarm of aids. Max Ulrich and Nevel Nason must be found and watched, night and day. A cordon of agents must be stationed around the house in which Bette Langwell lived. The world’s most dangerous woman was too great a menace to be left undis- turbed. Sefior Pombal must also be watched. Reaching his rooms, Hammond found the radio operator tingling with excitement. Further conversa- tions had been recorded upon the wax cylinder that tapped a circuit com- posed of the gas and water pipes. Hammond quickly transferred the record to his reproducing machine. He listened, his breath held in, “We have little time to lose. He’s found the warehouse,” a man’s voice said. “Harolds just telephoned me that he is posing as a building inspec- tor.” A hard smile thinned Paul Ham- mond’s lips. “Perhaps it was not woman answered. he,” the “You underestimate your favorite enemy, Nevel,’”’ was the reply, ‘You’d better get in touch with Pombal and 7 tell them— “Leave that to me,” she broke in hurriedly, “and stop communicating. If he is as clever as you think, Dan- ny, this circuit may be tapped at any minute.” “And your orders, Nevel?” “Finish as quickly as possible.” “Today ?” Van”? The record ended with that word. Paul Hammond stared at the wax cylinder, his face slightly pale. Today! He had not even minutes to lose. Be- fore him was evidence that not only disclosed a plot, but identified the — principals. He took the record from the machine and handed it to the radio operator. “Tell your laboratory chief to have those sounds translated into light and photographed,” he ordered. ‘Photographed ?” “That’s right. There’s nothing like the picture of a voice, It’s convinc- ing.” ‘“‘And my orders, sir?” “Carry on. I’m going out. Stay here until I get back or—”’ Hammond paused, He might not get back. He sat down and wrote a message in code to D-1, outlining what he had discov- ered and what his next steps might be. This he handed to the radio opera- tor. “Tf I’m not back in twenty-four : ae . ee } i EM Pa Ruy ee. « \ 7) r Pe; re { ? SIP AAW Wav teeth hh LER ALI, eye ye bis ¢ Si A NAG Ale Ue ‘ : Pf ; \a ti AGS ye me \ ifr catty ~~ \ tats U oui Ne Peay wt, (Uy JF Sage tied ; ral To a . Sard Wt a) i dyiee 1% Pie *