TEV fe Qa Fy wy. x... rT TI co AY el : upstairs in Elaine's room. - fixing flowers in a vase on the dress- RUNNING ‘The Exploits of Elaine Sn ae ss SS a as a A Detective Novel and a Motion Picture Drama By AR’ A BEE Well. Kno Ceeator of TPP IPVITIITIIIPIVIVIVIPP VY YOY Y fg dn a dn in an REEVE } wn BR and the | “% 5 the **Craig Kerneds Stories POVOPPIPIPIIITVOVPOET je Players ad the Eclectic Film Company All Foreign Rights Reserved o* Ll bbodobddd ddl sssdso ss © ) b p y DOLL LHLLL LD LLLLDLDLLSLLLLS SE BLES LLDHLLLHOOHOLOH OS OOD E SYNOPSIS. reer The New York police are mystified by a series of murders and other crimes. The fie eter ive 1 to the criminal is the warn- lett which is sent the victims, d with a “clutching hand.” The lat- sign tar of the mysterious assassin is Taylor Dodge, the insurance president. His daughter, Elaine, employs Craig Ken- nedy, the famous’ scientific detective, to try to unravel the mystery. Wha t Ken- nedy accomplishes is told by his’ rena James, a newspaper man. By an ingen- tous ruse Clutching Hand smuggles into Elaine’s home a flask of liquid air which she supposes to be a package of valuable papers. It blows open the safe in which it iz placed, but Kennedy arrives in time « Drevent the robbery. The detective rowly misses death in his apartment #? ore Clutching Hand has placed a shot 1 5; that it 1s fired by the electrical «ction formed when Kennedv places _ands or a framed photograph of FIr'TH EPISODE The Poisoned Room. Elzine and Craig were much togeth- ér during the next few days. Some- how or other, it seemed that the chase of the Clutching Hand involved long conferences in the Dedge library, and even, in fact, extended to excursions into the notoriously crime-infested neighborhood of Riverside drive, with its fashionable procession of automo- biles and go-carts—as far north, in- deed, as that desperate haunt known as Grant's tomb. . But to return to the more serious side of the affair. Kennedy and Hlaine had scarcely come out of the house and descended the steps, one afternoon, when a sinis- ter face appeared in a basement area- way ‘near by. It was the Clutching’ Hand. | He wore a telephone inspector's hat and eoat and carried a bag slung by a strap over his shoulder. For once he had left off his mask, but, in place of it, his face was covered by a scraggy black beard. The disguise was effec- tive. He saw Kennedy and Miss Dodge and slunk unobtrusively against a railing, with his head turned away. Laughing and chatting, they passed. Then he turned in the other direc- tion and, going up the steps of the Dodge house, rang the bell. “Telephone inspector,” he said in a loud tone as Michael, in Jennings’ place for the afternoon, opened the door. He ascompaniod the words with the stem, and Michael admitted him. As it happened, Aunt Josephine was She was ing table of her idolized niece. Mean- while, Rusty, the collie, lay, half blink- ing, on the fioor. “Who is this’ she asked, as Mi- chael led the bogus telephone inspec- tor into the room. - “A man from the telephone com- pany,” he answered deferentially. Aunt Josephine, unsophisticated, al- lowed them to enter without a usther question. Quickly, like a good hn Olutching Hand went to the telephone instrument and by dint of keeping his finger on the hook and his back to Aunt Josephine succeeded in convey- ing the illusion that he was examining it... No sooner was the door shut than the Clutching Hand hastily opened his bag and from it drew a small powder- spraying outfit, such as I have seen used for spraying bug powder. He then took out a sort of muzzle with an elastic band on it and slipped it over his head so that the muzzle pro- tected his nose and mouth. He seemed to work a sort of pump- ing attachment and from the nozzle of the spraying instrument blew out a cloud of powder which he directed at the wall. Meanwhile, Michael, in the hallway, on guard to see that no one bothered the Clutching Hand at his work, was overcome by curiosity to see what his master was doing. He opened the door a little bit and gazed stealthily through the crack into the room. Clutching Hand was now spraying the rug close to the dressing table of Elaine and was standing near the mir- ror. He stooped down to examine the rug. Then, as he raised his head, he happened to look into the mirror. In it he could see the full reflection of Michael behind him,Ygazing into the room. “The scoundrel!” muttered Clutch- ing Hand, with repressed fury at the discovery. He rose quickly and shut off the spraying instrument, stuffing it into the bag. He took a step or two toward the door. Michael drew back, fear- fully, pretending now to be on guard. Clutching Hand opened the door and, still wearing the muzzle, beck- oned to Michael Michael could scarcely control his fears. But he | obeyed, entering Elaine’s room after POPP PPPVPIVIVIIVIIIIVIITIIVIIPIIIVIVIIVIIIVYIVvYI VIFF VI VV VY VY the Clutching, Hand, who locked the door “Were you ws ing me? demand- | ed the 1 ter criminal, with rage. Micha { all I ob. | © his head BH a mon itching | ¢ F lo d him over dis nfully brutally struck Michael im | king him down An un- | SY goveruable, almost insane fury seemed to possess the man as he stood over the prostrate footman, cursing. “Get up!” he ordered. Michael obeyed, thoroughly cowed. “Take me to the cellar, now,” he demanded. Michael led the way from the room without a protest, the master criminal following him closely. Down into the cellar, by ‘a back way they went, Clutching Hand still wearing his muzzle and Michael say- ing not a word. Suddenly Clutching Hand turned on him and seized him by the collar. “Now. go upstairs, you,” he mut- tered. shaking him until his teeth fairly chattered, “and if you watch me again—I'll kill you!” He thrust Michael away, and the ‘footman, overcome by fear, hurried upstairs. Still trembling and fearful, Michael paused in the hallway. He put his hand on his face where the Clutching Hand had struck him. Then he waited, muttering to himself. As he thought it over, anger took the place of fear. He slowly turned in the direction of the cellar. Meanwhile, Clutching Hand was standing by the electric meter. He examined it carefully, feeling where the wires entered and left it, and starting to trace them out. At last he came to a point where it seemed suitable to make a connection for some purpose he had in mind. Quickly he took some wire from his bag and connected it with the electric light wires. Next, he led these wires, concealed, of course, along the cellar floor, in the direction of the furnace. The furnace was one of the old hot air. heaters and he paused before it as though seeking something. Then he bent down beside it and uncovered a little tank. . He thrust his hand gingerly into it, bringing it out quickly. The tank was nearly full of water. Next from his capacious bag he took two metal ~oles, or electrodes, and fastened them carefully to the ends of the wires, placing them at op- posite ends of the tank in the water. For several moments he watched. The water inside the tank seemed the same as before, only on each elec- trode there appeared bubbles, on one ‘bubbles of oxygen, on the other of The water was decompos- | hydrogen. ing under the current by electrolysis. Another moment he surveyed his work to see that he had left no loose ends. Then he quietly let himself out of the house. ..The next morning Rusty, who had been FElaine’s constant companion since the trouble had begun, awakened his mistress by licking her hand as it hung limply over the side of her bed. : She awakened with a start and put her hand to her head. She felt ill. “Poor old fellow,” she .murmured, half dazedly. Rusty moved away again, wagging hig tail listlessly. The collie, too, felt ill. “Why, Miss Elaine—what ees ze mattair? You are so pale!” exclaimed the maid, Marie, as she entered the room a moment later with the morn- ing’s mail on a salver. “1 don’t feel well, Marie,” she re- plied, trying with her slender white hand to brush the cobwebs from her brain. “I—I wish you'd tell Aunt Jo- sephine to telephone Doctor Hay- ward.” “Yes, mademoisells,” answered Marie. Languidly Elaine took the letters one by one off the salver. Finally she selected one anf slow- ly tore it open. It had no superscrip- tion, but it at once arrested her at- tention and transfixed her with ter- ror. : It read: “You are sick this morning. To- morrow you will be worse. The next day you will die unless you discharge Craig Kennedy.” It was signed with the mystic trade- mark of the fearsome Clutching Hand! Elaine drew back into the pillows, horror stricken. Quickly she called to Marie. “Go —get Aunt Josephine—right away!’ And Marie almost flew down the hall. Elaine seized the telephone and called Kennedy's number. *® * * * * * * Kennedy, in his stained laboratory apron, was a. work before his table, while I was watching him with inter- est, when the telephone rang. Without a word he answered the call, and I could see a look of per turbation cross his face. I knew it was from Elaine, but could tell noth- ing about the nature of the message. An instant later he almost tore off e apron and threw on his hat and coat I followed him as he dashed out of the lab 'y th e mansi we found IN THE AUDITORIUM, Re vgn TX DeABeN Doctor Hayward had arrived and had just finished taking the patient's pulse and temperature as our cab pulled up. . Elaine was quite ill indeed. “Oh! I'm so glad to see you,” she breathed with an air of relief as Ken- nedy advanced. “Why—what is the matter?” asked Craig anxiously. Doctor Hayward shook his head du- biously, but Kennedy did not notice him, for, as he approached, Elaine, she drew from the covers where she had concealed it a letter and handed it to him. Craig took it and read: “You are sick this morning. To morrow you will be worse. The next day you will die unless you discharge Craig Kennedy.” At the signature of the Clutching Hand he frowned, then, noticing Doc: tor Hayward, turned to him and re. peated his question, “What is the mat ter?” Doctor Hayward continued shaking jis head. “I cannot diagnose her symptoms,” he shrugged. There seemed to be a faint odor, al- most as if of garlic, in the room. It was unmistakable and Craig looked about him curiously, but said nothing. As he sniffed, he moved impatiently and his foot touched Rusty, under the bed. Rusty whined and moved back lazily. Craig bent over and looked at him. “What’s the matter with Rusty?” he asked. “Is he sick, too?” “Why, yes,” answered Elaine, fol- lowing Craig with her deep eyes. Craig reached down and gently pulled the collie out into the room. Rusty crouched down close to the floor. .His nose was hot and dry and feverish. He was plainly ill. “How long has Rusty been in the room?” asked Craig. “All night,” answered Elaine. “I wouldn’t think of being without him now.” “May I take Rusty along with me?” Craig asked finally : Elaine hesitated. “Surely,” she said at length, “only be gentle with him.” “Of course,” he said simply. “I thought that I might be able to dis- cover the trouble from studying him.” We stayed only a few minutes longer, for Kennedy seemed to realize the necessity of doing something im- mediately, and even Doctor Hayward ‘was fighting in the dark. Back in the laboratory, Kennedy set to work immediately, brushing every- thing else aside. oo a ing off a little of Rusty's blood in a tube, very carefully. “Here, Walter,” he said, pointing to the little incision he had made, “will you take care of him?” Quickly Craig made one test after another. As he did so I sniffed. There - was an unmistakable odor of garlic in the air which made me think of what I had already noticed in Elaine’s room. “Arseniuretted hydrogen,” he an- swered, still engaged in verifying his tests. “This is the Marsh test for arsenic.” “Arsenic!” I repeated, in horror. I had scarcely recovered from the surprise of Kennedy's startling reve- lation when the telephone rang again. Kennedy seized the receiver, thinking evidently that the message might be from or about Elaine. But from the look on his face and from his manner, I could gather that, although it was not from Elaine her- terested him greatly. He began by draw-’ Craig Reached Down and Gently self, it was about something that in| “Good!” I heard him say finally. “I | chael, pacing shall keep the appointment—abso- | lut ely. 2 “What was it? It w I | he replied, tl | pected, h moment. “Well,” added Craig, “yon. see, M1 chael has become infuriated by the treatment he received from the Clutch- ing Hand. I believe -he cuffed him in the face yesterday. Anyway, Be says he has determined to get even and be- tray him.” I did not like the looks of the thing, and said so. “Craig,” I objected vehemently, “don’t go to geet him. It is a trap.” Kennedy had evidently sotidered my objection already. “It may be a trap,” he replied slow- ly, “but Elaine is dying and we've got to see this thing through.” . As he spoke, he took an automatic from a drawer of a cabinet and thrust it into his pocket. Ther he went to another drawer and took out several sections of thin tubing, which seemed to be made to fasten together as a fishing nole is fastened, but were now separate, as if ready for traveling. Then he went out. I followed, still arguing. “If you go, I go,” I capitulated. “That's all there is to it.” Following the directions that Mi- chae! had given over the telephone, Craig led me into one of the toughest parts of the lower West side. “Here’s the place,” he announced, stopping across the street from a dingy Raines law hotel. “Pretty tough,” I objected. “Are you sure?” “Quite,” replied Kennedy, consulting his notebook again. Reluctantly I followed and we en- tered the place. “I want a room,” asked Craig as we were accosted by the proprietor, comfortably clad in a loud checked suit and striped shirt sleeves. : {I had one here once Before--forty-nine, 1 think.” “Fifty—" 1 began to; gorrect.: Kennedy trod hard on: my toes. “Yes, forty-nine,” he repeated. The proprietor called a stout megro porter, waiter and bell-hop all com- bined in one, who led us upstairs. “Forty-nine, sgh,” he pointed out, as Kennedy dropped a dime into his ready palm. The: negro left us, and as Craig started to. enter, I objected. “But, Craig, it was fifty-nine, not forty-nine. This is the wrong room.” “I know it,” he replied. “I had it written in thé book. But I want forty- nine—now. Just follow me, Walter.” Nervously 1 followed him into the room. “Don’t you understand?’ he went on. “Room forty-nine is probably just Puliéd ‘the Collie Into the Room. the same as Ifty-nine, except perhaps the pictures and furniture, only it is on the floor below.” He gazed about keenly. Then he took a few steps to the window and threw it open. As he stood there he took the parts of the rods he had been carrying and fitted them together un- til he had a pole some eight or ten feet long. At one end was a curious arrangement that seemed to contain lenses and a mirror. At the other end was an eye-piece, as nearly as I could make out. “What is that?” I asked as he com- pleted his work. : “That? That is an instrument something on the order of a miniature periscope,” Craig replied, still at work. I watched him, fascinated at his re- sourcefulness. He stealthily thrust the mirror end of the periscope out of the window and up toward the cor- responding window upstairs. Then he gazed eagerly through the eye-piece. “Walter—look!” he exclaimed to me. ‘ I did. There, sure enoug v J up and h, was Mi- he ‘room. As T lo S . am safe enough. ds b Jed MEYERSDALE, EACH THURSDAY EVENING. READ THE STORY AND SEE THE LER I knocked. The footsteps ceased. Then the door opened slowly and I could see a cold blue automatic. # “It's all right, Michael,” reassured Craig calmly. “All right, Walter,” he added to me. The gun dropped back into the foot- man’s pocket. We entered and Mi- chael again locked the door. Not a word had been spoken by him so far. Next Michael moved to the center of the room and, as J] realized later, brought himself in direct line with the open window. He seemed to be oyer- come with fear at his betrayal and stood there breathing heavily. “Professor Kennedy,” he began, “I have been so mistreated that I have made up my mind to tell you all I know about this Clutching—" Suddenly he drew a sharp breath’ and both his hands clutched at his own breast. He did not stagger and fall in the ordinary manner, but seemed to bend at the knees and waist and literally crumple down on his face. We ran to him. Craig turned him over gently on his back and examined him. He called. No answer. Michael was almost pulseless. Quickly Craig tore off his colar and bared his breast, for the man seemed to be strugzling for breath. As he did 80 he drew from Michael's throat a small, sharp-pointed dart “What’s that?” I ejaculated, horror stricken. “A poisoned blowgun dart, such as is used by the South American In- dians on the upper Orinoco,” he said slowly. He examined it carefully . “What is the poison?” I asked. “Curari,” he replied simply. “It acts on the respiratory muscles, paralyzing them and causing asphyxiation.” The dart seemed to have been made of a quill with & very sharp point, hol- low, and containing the deadly poison in the sharpened end. “Look out!” 1 cautioned, as he handled it. “Oh, that’s all right,” he answered casually. “If 1 don’t scratch myself, I I could swallow the stuff and it wouldn't hurt me—unless 1 had an abrasion of the lips or some internal cut.” Kennedy continued to examine the dart untfl suddenly I heard a low ex- clamation of surprise from him. In- side the hollow quill was a thin sheet of tissue paper, tightly rolled. He drew it out and read: “To know me is Death. “Kennedy—Take Warning.” Underneath was the inevitable Clutching Hand sign. We jumped to our feet. Kennedy rushed to the window and slammed it shut, while I seized the key from Mi- chael’s pocket, opened the door and called for help. A moment before, on the roof of a building across the street, one might have seen a bent, skulking figure. ‘His face was copper colored and on his head was a thick thatch of mat- ted hair. He looked like a South | American Indian, in a very dilapidated suit of cast-off American clothes. He had slipped out through a door- way leading to a flight of steps from the roof to the hallway of the tene- ment, and, like one of his native ven- omous serpents, worked his way down the stairs again. . My outcry brought a veritable bat- talion of aid. The hotel proprietor, the negro waiter and several others dashed upstairs, followed shortly by a portly policeman. Craig took the policeman into his confidence, showing him the dart and explaining about the poison. The offi- cer stared blankly. “1 must get away, too,” hurried on Craig “Officer, 1 will leave you to take charge here. You can depend on me for the inquest.” The officer nodded. “Come on, Walter,” whispered Craig, eager to get away, then adding the one word, “Elaine!” I followed hastily, not slow to un- derstand his fear for her. Nor were Craig’s fears groundless. In spite of all that could be done for her, Elaine was still in bed, much weaker now than before. More than that, the Clutching Hand had not neglected the opportunity, either. Suddenly, just before our return, a stone had come hurtling through the window, without warning of any kind, and had landed on Elaine’s bed. Below, as we learned some time aft- erwards, a car had drawn up hastily and the evilfaced crook whom the Clutching Hand had used to rid him- self of the informer, “Limpy Red,” had leaped out and hastily hurled the stone through the window, as quick- ly leaping back into the car and whisking away. Around the stone was wrapped a piece of paper on which was the om- inous warning, signed as usual by the Hand: “Michael is dead. “Tomorrow, you. “Then Kennedy. “Stop before it is too late.” Elaine had sunk back into her pik lows, paler than ever from this sec ond shock. It was just then that Kennedy and I arrived and were ittec “Oh, Mr Kennedy,” handing him the note. Craig took it and read Dodge,” he said, as he he out to me are suf but I « n min him exclaim. up against?” He fairly leaped at me and I felt him examining my shoulder where § k=d been leaning on the wall. Some- thing on the paper had come off and left a mark on my shoulder. Craig looked puzzled from me at the wall “Arsenic!” he cried. He whipped cu! a pocket lens and looked a‘ ithe wvpaper. “This heavy, fuzzy paper is Iuizly loaded with it, powdered, he reported. Kennedy paced the room. Sudden- ly, pausing by the register, an ides seemed to strike him. “Walter,” he whispered, “come down cellar with me.” “Oh! Be careful!” cried Elaine, anx- ious for him. “] will,” he called back. As he flashed his pocket bull’s-eye about, his gazé fell on the electrie meter. He paused before it. Im “What have you beem Kennedy Discovers the Secret of the Poisoned Room. spite of the fact that it was broad daylight, it was running. His face puckered “They are using no current at pres- ent in the house,” he ruminated, “yet the meter is running.’ He continued to examine the meter. Then he begar to follow the electric wires along At last he discovered a place where they had been tampered with and tapped by other wires. + “The work of the Clutching Hand!” he muttered. Eagerly he followed the wires to the furnace and around to the back. There they led right into a little water tank Kennedy yanked them out. As he did so he pulled some thing with them. “Two electrodes the villain placed there,” he exclaimed, holding them up triumphantly for me to see. “Y-yes,” 1 replied, dubiously, “but what does it all mean?” “Why, don’t you see? Under the in- fluence of the electric current the wa- ter was decomposed and gave off oxy- gen and hydrogen. The free hydrogen passed up the furnace pipe and com: bining with the arsenic in the wall paper formed the deadly arseniuretted hydrogen.” He cast the whole improvised elec trolysis apparatus on the floor and dashed up the cellar steps. “I've found it!” he criel, hurrying into Elaine's room. “It’s in this room —a deadly gas—arseniurettec hydro gen.” * He tore open the windows. “Have her moved,” he shouted to Aunt Josephine. “Then have a vac- uum cleaner go over every inch of wall, carpet and upholstery.” Standing beside her, he breathless. ly explained his discovery. “That wall paper has been loaded down with arsenic, probably paris green or Schweinfurth green, which is acetoar senite of copper. Every minute you are here you are breathing arseniuret- ted hydrogen. This Clutching Hand is a diabolical genius. Think of it— poisoned wall paper!” * No one said a word. Kennedy reached down and took the two Clutching Hand messages Elaine had received. “lI shall want to study these notes. more, too,” he said, holds ing them up to the wall at the head of the bed as he flashed his pocket lens at them. “You see, Elaine, I may be able to get something from study- ing the ink, the paper, the hand writ- ing—” Suddenly hoth leaped back, with a cry. Their faces had been several inches apart. Something had whizzed between them and literally impaled the two notes on the wall, Down the street, on the roof of a carriage house, back of a neighbor's, might have been seen the v- couth fig ure of the shabby South American In- dian crouching behind a chimney and gazing intently at the Dodge house. As Craig had thrown open Elaine's window and turned to Elaine the figure had crouched closer to the chimney. Then with an uncanny determina- tion, he slowly raised the blowgun ta his lips. I jumped forward, followed by Doc: tor Hayward, Aunt Josephine and Marie. Kennedy had a peculiar look as he pulled out from the wall a blow: gun dart similar in every way to thal which had killed Michacl. “Craig!” gasped Elaine, reaching up and laying her soft, white hand on his arm in undisguised fear for him, “you t give up this chase for the Hand!” the chase for the