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The Exploits of Elaine A Detective Nerd and a Motion Picture Drama
By ARTHUR B. REEVE The Well -Known Novelist and the Creator of the "Craig Kennedy" Stories rw Presented in CoIUxnban wkb the Polite Players and the Eclectic Film Company
Oop/Tight, 1S14, by the Star Company. HI VMKn SUbu BtMrrri. ms JVH, ay ue BW oompany. *11 roracs upa
FIRST EPISODE The Clutching Hand. "There muat be oomethlng new In • order to catch criminals nowadays. The old methods are all right — as far as they go. But while we have been ' using them, criminals have kept pace with modern science." ; •Craig Kennedy laid dowh his news- j paper and filled his pipe with my tobacco. In college we had roomed together. had shared everything, even poverty, and now that Craig was a professor of chemistry in charge oft: the laboratory at the university and' I had a sort of roving commission on the staff of the Star, we bad continued our arrangement. "It has always seemed strange to me," he went on slowly, "that no one has ever endowed a professorship in criminal science in any of the large colleges." I tossed aside my own paper and retrieved the tobacco. "Why should there be a chair in criminal science?" I replied argumentative^. settling back in my chair. "I've done my turn at police headquarters reporting, and I can tell you, Craig, it's no place for a college professor. Crime is — Just crime. And as for dealing with it the great detective is born and bred to it College professors for the sociology of the thing — yes: for the detection "of it give me a Byrnes." "On the contrary." persisted Kennedy, his clean-cut features betraying an earnestness which 1 knew indicated that he was leading up to something of importance, "there is a distinct place for science In the detection of crime. Today we have protestors of everything — why not professors- of crime Science ?" Still, as I shook my head dubiously, he hastened to clinch hie point. "Colleges have got down to solving the hard facts of life, nowadays — pretty nearly all, except one. They still treat crime in the old way. study Its statistics and pore over its-causes and the theories of how it can be prevented and punished. Hut as for running down the criminal himself, scientifically, relentlessly —bah ! we haven't made enough progress to mention since the hammer and tongs method* of your sainted Byrnes." "Doubtless you will write a brochure on this most interesting subject." 1 suggested, "and let it go at that." "No, I am serious," he replied, determined for some reason or other to make a convert of me. - "I mean exactly what I say. I am going to apply science to the detection of crime, the kssnie sort of methods by which we W trace out the presence of a mysteri- ^ ous chemical or track down a deadly | germ. And before I have gone far. I am go'ng to en'!=t Writer Jameson i as an aid. I think I shall need you ' in my business." "How do I come in?" I asked. "Well, for one thing, you will get a "scoop." a 'beat' — whatever you call it in that newspaper Jargon of yours." "Fortunately, Walter." he pursued, "the crime-hunters have gone ahead in science faster than the criminals. It's to be my Job to catch criminals. Yours, it seems to me, is to show people how they can never hope to beat the modem scientific detective." "Go as far as you like," I exclaimed, convinced at last. And so it was that we formed this strange new partnership in crime science that has existed ever since. "Jameson, here's a story I wish you'd follow np," remarked the managing editor of the Star to me one evening after I had turned in an assignment of the late afternoon. He handed me a clipping from the evening edition of the Star, and I quickly ran my eye over the headline: "THE CLUTCHING HAND" WINS AGAIN. NEW YORK MYSTERIOUS MASTER CRIMINAL PERFECTS ANOTHER COUP. City Police Completely Baffled . i "Here's this murder of Fletcher, the , retired banker and trustee of the uni- , versity," he explained. "Not a clue — except a warning letter signed with | this mysterious clutching fist. Last j i week it was the robbery of the Haxworth Jewels and the killing of old l I lax* or ih. Again that curious sign of the band. Then there was the dastardly attempt on 8herburne, the steel i , magnate. Not a trace of the assail i [•at «aejx this saaa olatchteg fiat. 8e i
it has gone, Jameson — the moat alarming and iqpxplicable series of murders that hap ever happened in this count try. And nothing but this uncanny j band to trace them by." The editor paused a moment, then ! l exclaimed: "Why, this fellow seems j s to take a diabolical — I might almost I ; say pathological — pleasure in crimes • of violence, revenge, avarice and self- j ' protection. Sometimes it seems as if j ' he delights in the pure deviltry of the thing. It is weird." ' He leaned over and spoke in a low, ! ' tense tone. "Sti—.sest of all, the tip j . has Just come to us that Fletcher, Haxworth, Sherburne and all the rest of ' ' these wealthy men were insured in the Consolidated Mutual Life. Now, >> Jameson, I want you to find Taylor ' Dodge, the president, and Interview ! him. Get what you can, at any cost." ' . I had naturally thought first of Ken- ' nedv, but there was no time now to call him up and, besides, I must see Dodge immediately. Dodge. I discovered over the tele1 phone, was not at home nor at any of the clubs to which he belonged. Late though it was I concluded that he was at his office. No amount of persuasion ' could get me past the door, and. though I found out later and shall tell 1 soop what was going on there. I determined, about nine o'clock, that the ' best way to get at Dodge was to go to ! his bouse on Fifth avenue, if I had 1 to camp on his front doorstep until morning. The harder I'found the story • to get the more I wanted it. ' With some misgivings about being I admitted, 1 rang the bell of the aplen- : did, though not very modern, Dodge residence. An English butler, with a • nose that must have been his fortune. ' opened the door and gravely informed ' me that Mr. Dodge was not at home, but was expected at any moment. Once in. I was not going lightly to - give up that advantage. I bethought myself of his daughter Elaine, one of the most popular debutantes of the season. end aent in my card to her, on a chance of interesting her and seeing her father, writing on the bottom of the card: "Would like to interview Mr. Dodge regarding Clutching Hand." Summoning up what assurance 1 had, which is sometimes considerable. I followed the butler down the hall as he bore my card. As he opened the door of the drawing-room. I caught a vision of a slip of a girl in evening clothes. Elaine Dodge was both the ingenue and the athlete — the thoroughly modern type of girl — equally at home with tennis and tango, table talk and tea. Near her I recognized from his pictures Harry Bennett, the rising young corporation lawyer, a mighty good- { looking fellow, with an affable, pleas- | ing way about him. perhaps thirty-five ' j years old or so, but already prominent 1 and quite friendly with Dodge. : "Who is it. Jennings?" she asked. "A reporter. Miss- Dodge." answered ' the butler, glancing superciliously back j at me. "And yoU know how your father dislikes to see anyone here at the house," he added deferentially to her. "Miss Dodge." I pleaded, bowing as If I had known them all my life, "I've been trying to find your father ail the evening. It's very important." She locked up at me surprised and in doubt whether to laugh or stamp her pretty little foot in indignation at my stupendous nerve. She laughed. "You are a very brave young man," she rippled with a roguish j look at Bennett's discomfiture over the Interruption of the tete-a-tete. ! There was a note of seriousness in it, too, that made me ask quickly, . "Why?" The smile flitted from her face, and in its place came a frank earnest ex- -! pression, which I later learned to like and respect very much. "My father has declared he will eat the vpry next reporter who tries to Interview him here," she answered. I was about to prolong the waiting time by some jolly about such a stunning girl not having by any possibility such a cannibal of a parent, when 1 the rattle of the changing gears of a < car outside tcld of the approach of a limousine. The big front door opened and Elaine flung herself In the arms of an elderly, stern-tyced. gray-haired man. "Why, dad," she cried, "where have you been? I missed you so 'much at dinner. I'll be so glad when this ter- ' rible business gets cleared up. Tell— | me. What Is on your mind? What Is j It that worries you now?" I noticed then that Dodge seemed j wrought up and a bit unnerved, for he j sank rather heavily into a chair, I brushed his face with his handkerchief and breathed heavily. Elaine hovered j over him solicitously, repeating her i question. j i With a mighty effort he seemed to I get himself together. He rose and , ' j turned to Bennett "Harry," he exclaimed. Tve got the Clutching Hand!" The two men stared at each other. "Yea." continued Dodge "I've found ' out how to trace it, and tomorrow I i going to set the alarms of tit* city • at rast by aapeater— * 1 *
Just then Dodge caught sight of me. i For the moment I thought perhaps he was going to fulfill bis threat, r | "Who the devil — why didn't you tell j me a reporter was here, Jennings?" he i rputtered indignantly, pointing toward i the door. t Argument, entreaty, were of no ) avail. There was nothlng.lo do but go. - 1 At least, X reflectedrThad the greatf er part of the story — all except the one j big thing, however — the name of the criminal But Dodge would know him , tomorrow! ) I hurried back to the Star to write - my story In time to catch the last ' morning edition. i Meanwhile, if I may anticipate my story, I must tell of what we later learned had happened to Dodge so completely to upset him. Ever since the Consolidated Mutual - had been bit by the murders he had had > many lines out in the hope of enmeshr ing the perpetrator. That night, as 1 found out the next day, be had at las I ■ heard of a clue. One of the company's t detectives had brought in a red-head i ed, lame, partly paralyzed crook, who i enjoyed the expressive monniker ol i "Limpy Red." Llmpy Red was a gunman of some renown, evil-faced I and, having nothing much to lose, des • perate. Whoever the master criminal : of the clutching hand might have been i he had seen fi to employ Llmpy, but had not taken the precaution of getting i rid of him soon enough when he was through. Therefore Limpy had a grievance, and now descended under pressure to the low level of snitching to Dodge in i his office. i "No, governor." the trembling , wretch had said as he handed over a grimy envelope. "1 ain't never seen his face — but here is directions how to find his hangout." i As Limpy anibh-d out, he turned to Dodge, quivering at the enormity of his IT 1
JM "Don't Let On How You Found Out!"
unpardonable sin in gangland: "For God's sake, governor," he implored, "don't let on how you found out!" ' And yet Limpy Red had scarcely left with his promise not to toll, when Dodge, happening to turn over some : papers, came upon an envelope left on his own desk, bearing that mysteri- j ous clutching hand! He tore it open, and read in amaze- 1 ment: "Destroy Limpy Red's instructions 1 ; within the next hour." Dodge gazed about in wonder. This ! was getting on his nerves. He de : termined to go home and rest, j Outside the house, as he left bis car, pasted over the monogram on the door, he had found another note, with the same weird mark and the single word: j "Remember!" 1 In spite of the pleadings of ypung Bennett, Dodge refused to take warning. In the safe in his beautifully fitted library be deposited Limpy's document in an envelope containing all i the correspondence thai had led up to the final step in the discovery. It was late In the evening when 1 returned to our apartment and, not . , finding Kennedy there, knew that 1 , would discover him at the laboratory. I "Craig," I cried as I burst in on ' him. "I've got a case for you — greater < than any ever befote." Kennedy looked no caln'y from the , | ruck oi scientific instruments that surj rounded him— test tubes, beakers, , | carefully labeled bottles. , "Indeed?" he remarked, coolly go- j j ing back to his work. ; , "Yes." I cried. "It is a scientific . i criminal who seems to leave no clues." ] Kennedy looked up gravely. "Every criminal leaves -a trace," he aaid quietly. "If It hasn't been found, then It i must be because no one has ever ] looked for It in the right way." | Still gazing at me keenly, he added: "Tea, I already knew there was such 1 a man at Urge. I have been called In J on that Fletcher case— he was a true- [ j of (he uBtvendty, yea hcow."
"All right." I exclaimed, a Utile I nettled that he should nave anuctpai«d I me even so much in the case. "But I 'j you hayunt -heard the latest." i ! "What is it?" he asked with provok- 1 ' ing calmness. < "Taylor Dodge," I blurted out, "has the clue. Tomorrow he will track down i the man!" 1 Kennedy fairly Jumped as I repeat- 1 ed the news. I "How long has be known?" he de- I manded eagerly. 1 "Perhaps three or four hours," I has- 1 arded. i I Kennedy gazed at me fixedly. i "Then Taylor Dodge Is dead!" he I exclaimed, throwing off his acid-stained i laboratory Jacket, and hurrying Into I ■ his street clothes. 3 'Impossible!" 1 ejaculated. < Kennedy paid no attention to the ob- I jectlon. "Come, Walter," he urged. | "We must hurry before the trail gets I 1 cold." 1 There was something positively un- ' ' canny about Kennedy's assurance. I < ' doubted— yet I feared. It was well past the middle of the i night when we pulled up In a night- ' hawk taxi cab before the Dodge house, mounted the steps and rang the bell. i Jennings answered sleepily, but not I ' so much so that he did not recognize me. He was about to bang the door < shut when Kennedy Interposed his i 7 foot 1 j "Where Is Mr. Dodge?" asked Ken- ' nedy. "Is he all right?" 1 . "Of course he Is — In bed," replied < . the butler. Just then we heard a faint cry, like 1 J nothing exactly human. Or was It our heightened imaginations, under the i spell of the darkness? "Listen!" cautioned Kennedy. ' i j We did. standing there now in the , hall. Kennedy was the only one of us j who was cool. Jennings' face blanched, j then he turned tremblingly and wont down to the library door, whence the ! sounds had seemed to come, j He called, but there was no answer. I He turned the knob and opened the door. The Dodge library was a large 5 room. In the center stood a big, flattopped desk of heavy mahogany. It ^ was brilliantly lighted. 3 At one end of the desk was a telej phone. Taylor Dodge was lying on the floor at that end of the desk — perfectly rigid — his face distorted — a ghastly ' figure. A pet dog ran over, sniffed j frantically at his master's legs and suddenly began to howl dismally. Dodge was dead! , ' "Help!" shouted Jennings. 5 Others of the servants came rushing in. There was, for the moment, j the greatest excitement and confusion. Suddenly a wild figure in flyfng garments flitted down the stairs and into j the library, dropping beside the dead man, without seeming to notice us at j all. < I "Father!" shrieked a woman's voice, ' ' heart-broken. "Father! Oh — my God ' j —he — he is dead!" I I It w as Elaine Dodge. ' j With a mighty effort, the heroic girl I ! i seemed to pull herself together. "Jennings," she cried, "call Mr. Ben- I nett — immediately!" ' ! iFrom the one-sided, excited conversation of the butler over the telephone, 1 I gathered that Bennett had been in I the process of disrobing in his own apartment uptown, and would be right I down. i | Together. Kennedy, Elaine and my- ' | self lifted Dodge to a sofa and Elaine's ' aunt, Josephine, with whom she lived, | appeared on the scene, trying to quiet ' j the sobbing girl *| Kennedy and I withdrew a little way, ' ! and h» looked about curiously. 1 I I "What was it?" I whispered. "Was it natural, an accident, or— or mur- < . der?" The word seemed to stick in < my throat. If it was a murder, what ' was the motive? Could it have been i . 1 to get the evidence which Dodge had J | that would incriminate the master 1 , , criminal ? I Kennedy moved over quietly and ex- t j amlned the body of Dodge. When he 1 | rose his face had a peculiar look. i 1 | "Terrible!" he whispered to me. , f j "Apparently he had been working at ' 1 ! his accustomed place at the desk when 1 the telephone rang. He rose and crossed over to it. See! That brought 1 his feet on this register let Into the i floor. As he took the telephone re- j 1 celver down a flash of light must have < shot froth it to his ear. It shows the 1 characteristic electric burn." ] 1 "The motive?" I queried. 1 "Evidently bis pockets had been 1 gone through, though none of the valu- . < abies were missing. Things on his * desk show that a hasty search has I been made." Just then the door opened and Ben- ' nett burst in. : i As he stood over the body, gazing down at it, repressing the emotions of 1 a strong man, he turned to Elaine, and • in a low voice exclaimed: "The v Hutched Hand did this. I shall conse- 1 crate my life to bring this man to Jus- * tice!" ' t He spoke tensely, and Elaine, look- , ing up into his face, as if imploring his c help in her hour of need, unable to t speak, merely grasped his hand. j Kennedy, who, in the meantime, had j •' stood apart from the rest of us, was 1 examining the telephone carefully. ' j "A clever crook." I heard him mut- a • between his teeth. "He must have n gloves. Not a finger print— at ' d here." Perhaps I can do ho better than to ! reconstruct the crime as Kennedy 6 pieced these startling events to- ! 8 gether. 1 fl Long after I had left and even after Bennett left. Dodge oontinued working 11 In his library, for he was known as a a 1 prodigious worker. i ■: Bad ha taken the trouble, however, *
to pause and peer ont Into the moonlight that Hooded the back of his be might have seen the figures of two stealthy -crooks crouching In the half shadows of one of the cellar, windows, one crook, at least, masked. The masked crook held In his hands carefully the ends of two wires attached to an electric feed, and, sending pal to keep watch outside, he entered the cellar of the Dodge house through a window, whose pane they carefully removed. As be came through the window he dragged the wires with him, and, after a moment's reconnoHertng, attached them to the furnace pipe of the old-fashioned hotair beater, where the pipe ran up through the floor to the library above. The other wire was quickly attached to the telephone where Its wires entered. Upstairs Dodge, evidently uneasy In his mind about the precious Llmpy letter, took it from the safe along 1 with most of the other correspondence . and, pressing a hidden spring In the ' wall, opened a secret panel and placed most of the Important documents in this hiding place. Downstairs the masked master criminal had already attached a voltmeter to' the wires he had Installed, waiting. Just then could be heart! the tinkle or Dodge's telephone, and the old man rose to answer It. As he did so he placed his toot on the iron register, hand taking the telephone and the receiver. At that Instant came a powerful electric flash. Dodge sank on the floor, clutching the Instrument, electrocuted. A moment later the criminal slid silently into Dodge's room. Carefully putting on rubber gloves and avoiding
the register, he wrenched the [ telephone from the grasp of the dead , replacing It in its normal posi- : tion. Only for a second d^d he pause look at his victim as he destroyed the evidence of his work. Minutes were precious. First Dodge's pockets, then his desk engaged bis attention. There was left the safe. As he approached the ctrong box. the master criminal took two vials his pocket. Removing a bust of Webster that, stood on the safe, he poured the contents of the vials in two mixed mnssi>9 of powder, forming a on the safe, into which he insertHe lighted them, sprang back, hidhis eyes from the light, and a blinding gush of flame, lasting perten seconds, poured out from the top of the safe. It was not an explosion, but just a dazzling, intense flame that sizzled and crackled. It seemed impossible, but the glowing mass was literally sinksinking down into the cold steel. At last it burned through — as if the safe had been of tinder! Without waiting a moment longer than necessary, the masked criminal i advanced again and actually put bis down through the top of the safe, pulling out a bunch of papers, j Quickly he thrust them all, with just 1 glance, into his pocket 1 8 till working quickly, he took the ! of the great orator, which he had removed, and placed it under the light. ' from his pocket he drew two \ curious stencils, as it were, which he I apparently carefully prepared, j his hands, still carefully gloved, j ' rubbed the stencils on his hair, as 1 If to cover them with a pirn of natural oils. Then he deliberately pressed them over the statue in several 1 places. It was a peculiar action, and I he seemed to fairly gloat over It when , was done and the bust returned to place, covering the bole. As noiselessly as be had come, he made his exit after one last malignant at Dodge. It was now but the work of a moment to remove the wires he bad placed and climb out of the vhidow. taking them and destroying the evidence down in the cellar. A low whistle from the masked crook, now again in the shadow, his pal stealthily to his sWo. "It's all right." he whispered hoarse- , ' to the man. "Now you attend to I Llmpy Red." | The vilinino is looking pal nodded and. without another word, the two made their geti.way, safely. In opposite directions. j When Limp; Red, still trembling, left the office > f Dodge earlier In the evening, he hai repaired as fast as his shambling feel would take him to his favorite dive up on Park Row. Had the Bowery "sinkers" not got : his eyes be might have noticed i among the late revelers a man who ■poke to no ons, but took his plaoa : by at tttj ter.
Llmpy bad long since readied thai i point of saturation and lurching forth! i from his new found cronies be sough d i other fields of excitement. Likewise] \ did the newcomer, who bore a strange! ■ resemblance to the lookout who had! i been stationed outside at the Dodge] - house a scant half bonr before. i r What happened later was only a! - matter of seconds — and waiting until! i the hated snitch— fbr 'gangdom hxtfesj ' the Informer worse than anything -else] ) dead or alive — had turned a sufficient-! ) ly dark and deserted corner. i A muffled thud, a stifled groan foK s lowed as a heavy section of load pipe! - wrapped in a newspaper descended on] ) the crass skull of Llmpy. It was the vengeance of the Clutch-j 1 ing Hand — swift, sure, remorseless. I And yet It hid not been a night ah complete success for the master crtm-| i inal, as anyone might have seen who] r could have followed hie sinuous route] ['to t place of greater safety. Unable: a j to wait longer, be pulled the papers' s j he had taken from the 6afe from his 1 : pocket. His chagrin at finding most] i of them to be blank fcund only one expression of foiled fury— that men-j . acing clutching hand — the real one'. r ••••••• Kennedy had turned from his futile a examination for marks on the tele- > phone. There stood the safe, n moders ate sized strong box. but of a modern. type. He tried the door. It was locked. ; There was not a mark on IL The com. - blnatlon had not been tampered with. 9 Nor had there been any attempt to "soup" the safe. With a quick motion he felt tn hia 1 pocket, as If looking for gloves. YlndY ing none; he glanced about and selze^ 5 two pieces of paper from the desk.
bid. v - The Criminal Slid Silently Into Dodgi's Room.
3 1 With them, in 'order not to confuse . j any possible finger prints on. the bust,. . ! he lifted it off. > ' I gave a gasp of surprise. j There, in the top of the safe.j yawned a gaping hole, through which s one -could have thrust his arml"What Is it?" we asked, crowding) about him. "Thermit." he replied laconically, s "Thermit?" I repeated. [ "Yes — a compound of iron oxide and > powdered aluminum, invented by a ) chemist at Essen. Germany. It glvesj l a temperature of over five thousand, degrees. It will eat its way through, the strongest steel." Jennings, his mouth wide open with L wonder, advanced to take the bust from Kennedy, s "No— don't touch it." he waved him off, laying the bust on the desk. "I i . want no one to touch it — don't you I see how careful I was to use the t paper, that there might be no ques- . tion about any clue this fellow may have left on the marble?" j As he spoke. Craig was dusting over ■ the surface of the bust with some ■ black powder. I ; "Look!" exclaimed Oa>g suddenly, i , "Finger prints!" 1 cried excitedly, j "Yes." nodded Kennedy.' studying . ' them closely. "A clue — perhaps." t I "What — those little marks — a clue?" i asked a voice behind uc ! I I turned and saw Elaine looking 1 ' over our shoulders, fascinated It was ' evidently the first time she had reali lzed that Kennedy was In the room, i I "How can you tc-ll anything by . | that?" she asked. , ! "Why, easily," he answered, picki ' ing up a glass paper weight which I ' lay on the desk. "Yon see. 1 place I my finger on this weight — so. You I could see it even without the powder I on this glass. Do yo\j set: those lines? i , There are various types of markings i ■ — four general types — and each persons' markings are different even If of the same general type — loop, whorl. He continued working as he talked. "Your thumb murks, for example. Miss Dodge, are different from mine. Mr. Jameson's ar- different from both cf us. And this fellow's flnser prints are still different. It is mathemcticeK ly impossible to find two o:ike in every respect." I^r.utdy was holding the paper j weight near the bust as he talked. I shall never forget the look of blank amazement on his face as he bent over closer. "My God!" he exclaimed excitedly, "this fellow is a master criminal! He has made stencils or something of the sort on which, by sorfie mechanical process, he has actually forged the hitherto infallible finger prints!" L too, bent over and studied the, marks on the bufet and those Kennedy had made oo the paper weight to show Elaine. THE FINGER PRINTS ON THE BUST WERE KENNEDY'S OWN. may (feawuiiu —

