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The Exploits of Elaine
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SHOLLLLL SL LL SH
A Detective Novel and a Motion Picture Drama
By ARTHUR B. REEVE
The Well-Known Novelist and the
Creator of the **Craig Kennedy’’ Stories
in Collaboration With the Pathe Players and the Eclectic Film Company
‘Copyright, 1914, by the Star Company. All Foreign Rights Reserved
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SYNOPSIS.
So.
The New York police are mystified by a
series of murders and other crimes. The
principal clue to the criminal is the
warning letter which is sent the victims,
i ed with a “clutching hand.” The lat-
victim of the mysterious assassin is
a Dodge, the insurance president.
His daughter, Elaine, employs Craig Ken-
nedy, the famous scientific detective, to
try to unravel the mystery. What Ken-
nedy accomplishes is told by his friend
Jameson, & newspaper man. Enraged at
the determined effort which Elaine and
Craig Kennedy are making to put an end
to his crimes. the Clutching Hand, as
this strange criminal is known, resorts to
all sorts of the most diabolical ‘schemes to
put them out of the wa. Each chapter
of the story tells of LA ew plot against
their lives and of the y the great de-
tective uses all his skill by save this pretty
girl and himself from death.
——
TENTH EPISODE
THE LIFE CURRENT.
Assignments were being given out
on the Star one afternoon, and I was
standing talking with several other
reporters, in the busy hum of type
writers and clicking telegraphs.
“What do you think of that?” asked
one of the fellows. “You're something
of a scientific detective, aren’t you?”
Without “laying claim to such a
distinction, I took the paper and read:
THE POISONED KISS AGAIN.
Thre® Mope New York Women Report
Being Kissed by Mysterious Stranger
—Later Fell Into Deep Unconscious:
ness—What Is It?
I had scarcely finished when one of
the copy boys, dashing past me, called
‘out: “You're Wanted on the wire, Mr.
Jameson.”
I hurried over to the telephone and
answered. :
A musical voice responded to my
furried hello, and I hastened to
adopt my most polite tone.
“Is this Mr. Jameson?”
voice.
“Yes,” I replied, not recognizing it.
“Well, Mr. Jameson, I've heard of
asked the |
very strange experience. TUve had
The woman did not pause to satch
my "exclamation of astonishment, but
wentfon: “It was like this. A man
ran up to me on the street and kissed
me—and—I don’t know how it was—
but “1 became anconscious-and I
didn’t come to for *h hour—in a hose
pital—fortunately. ry ie 14 iat
would have happened $f
that someone came to Iny &s
and the man fled." I thought’ Ene
VV VIII VIII IIIT VII TVIovY
order to get another. IT have to go.
I'll get this story from you, Craig.”
* * * ¥ * * *
The day before, in the suburban
house, the Clutching Hand had becn
talking to two of his emissaries, an at-
tractive young woman and a man.
They were Flirty Florrie and Dan
the Dude.
“Now, I want you to get Kennedy,”
he said. “The way to do it is to sep-
arate Kennedy and Elaine—see?”
“All right, Chief, we'll do it,” they
replied.
Clutching Hand had scarcely left
when Flirty Florrie began by getting
published in the papers the story
which I had seen.
The next day she called me up from
the suburban house. Having got me
to promise to see her, she had scarce-
ly turned from the telephone when
Dan the Dude ¥alked in from the next
room.
“He's coming,” she said.
Dan was carrying a huge stag head
with a beautifully branched ‘pair of
antlers. Under His arm was a coil of
wire which he had connected to the
inside of the head.
“Pine!” he exelaimed. Then, point-
ing to the head, he added, “It’s all
ready. See how I fixed it? That ought
to please the Chief.
Dan moved quickly to the mantel
and mounted a stepladder there by
which he had taken down the head,
and started to replace the head above
the mantel.
He hooked the head on a nail.
“There,” he said, unscrewing one of
the beautiful brown glass eyes of the
stag.
Back of it could be seen a came
shutter.
“One of those new quick shutter
cameras,” he explained.
Then he ran a couple of wires along
the molding around the room and into
a closet, where he made the connec-
tion with a sort or switchboard on
which a button was marked, “SHUT-
TER” and the switen, “WIND FILM.”
“Now, Flirty.” he said, coming out
of the closet and pulling up the shade
which fet a flood of sunlight into the
room, “you see, I want you to stand
here—then, do your little trick.”
Just then the bell rang.
“That must be Jameson,” she cried.
“Now-—get to your corner.”
With a last look Dan went into the
closet and shut the door.
Perhaps half an hour later Clutching-
Hand himself called me up on the
telephone. It was he—not the Star—
IN THE AUDITORIUM.
Flaine moved into the drawmg #5oth,
Jennings springing forward to part the
portieres for her and passing through
the réom quickly where Flirty Florrie
sat ‘waiting. Flirty Florrie rose and
stood gazing at Flaine, apparently
very much embarrassed, even after
Jennings had gone.
“It is embarrassing,” she said final
ly, “but, Miss Dodge, I have come to
you to beg for my love.”
Blaine looked at her nonplused.
“Yes,” she continued, “you do not
know it, but Craig Kennedy is infatu-
ated with you.” She paused again,
then added, “But he is engaged to me.”
Elaine stared at the woman. She
was dazed. She could not believe it.
“There is the ring,” Flirty Florrie
added, indicating a very impressive
paste diamond.
Quickly she reached into her bag
and drew out two photographs, with:
out a word, handing them to Elaine.
“There’s the proof,” Florrie said
simply, choking a sob.
Elaine looked with a start. Sure
enough, there was the neat living room
in the house on Prospect avenue. In
one picture Florrie had her arms over
Kennedy's shoulders. 11 the other,
apparently, they were passionately
kissing.
Elaine slowly laid the photographs
on the table.
“Please—please, Miss Dodge—give
me back my lost love. You are rich
and beautiful—I am poor. I have only
my good looks. But—I—I love him—
and he—loves me—and has promised
to marry me.’
Florrie had broken down completely
and was weeping softly into a lace
handkerchief. :
She moved toward the dcor. Elaine
followed her.
“Jennings—please see the lady to
the door.”
Back in the drawing-room, Elaine
seized the photographs and hurried
into the library where she could be
alone.
Just then she heard the bell and
Kennedy’s voice in the hall;
“How are you this afternoon,” Ken-
nedy greeted Elaine gayly.
Elaine had been too overcome by
what had just happened to throw it
off so easily, and received him with
studied coolness. : "
Still, Craig, manlike, did not notice
it at once. Im fact, he was too busy
gazing about to see that neither Jen-
nings, Marie nor the duenna Aunt Jo-
sephine were visible. They were not
and he quickly took the ring from
his pocket. Without waiting, he
showed it to Elaine.
Elaine very coolly admired the. ring,
as Craig might have eyed a specimen
on a microscope slide. 8till, he did
not notice.
He took the ring, about to put it
on her finger. Elaine drew away.
Concealment was not in her frank na-
ture. i
She picked up the two photographs.
N t bave you to say about
those?” she asked cutti “
Kennedy, quite
and looked at them. Then he let them
fall carelessly on the table
a burst of laughter.
MEYERSDALE, EACH THURSDAY
, took them
and
dropped into a chair, his head back in
as 1 leasned only too lato.
& ® $ ®
1 hot nary got out of the house,
wo id be interested.”
e are,” I hastened to reply. wm
SOT me your name?’
“Why, I am Mra. Florence ot| a8 Craig told me afterwards, when
No! 80 Prospect avenue” the | Flirty Florrie told all over again the
voice. embroidered tale that had caught my
“Say,” 1 exclaimed over ’
to the editor's desk, s another Kennedy said nothing, but listened
utently, perhaps betraying in hie A
woman on the wire who she has
od the skepticism he felt.
recelved the poisoned kiss”
“Suppose you that assignment.” “You see,” she said, still voluble and
the editor answered, sensing a possi- | 88er to convince him, “I was only
ble story. walking on the street. Here—-let me
show you. It was just likg this.”
‘She took his arm and, before he
knew, it, led him to the spot on the
floor near the window which Dan had
indicated. Meanwhile. Dan was lis-
tening attentively in his closet.
“Now—stand there. You are just
as I was—only 1 didn’t expect any-
thing.”
She was pantomiming some one ap-
proaching stealthily while Kennedy
watched her with interest, tinged with
doubt. Behind Craig in his closet,
Dan was reaching for the switchboard
button.
“You see,” she said advancing
quickly and acting her words, “he
placed his hands on ‘my shoulders—
so—then threw his arms about my
neck—so! ’
She said no more, but imprinted a
deep, passionate kiss on Kennedy's
mouth, clinging closely to him. Be-
fore Kennedy could draw away, Dan
in the closet, had. pressed the but-
ton and the switch several times in
rapid succession.
“Th—that’s very realistic,” gasped
Craig, a good deal taken aback by the
sudden osculatory assault.
He frowned.
“I—I’11 look into the case,”
I took it with alacrity, figuring out
the quickest way by elevated and sur-
face to reach the address.
I must say that I could dcarcely crit-
icize the poisoned kisser’s taste, for
the woman who opened the door cer-
tainly was extraordinarily attractive.
“And you really were—put out by
a kiss?” I queried, as she led me into
a neat sitting room.
“Absolutely—as much as if it had
sen by one of these poisoned needles
ou read about,” she replied confident-
ly, hastening on io describe the affair
volubly.
It was beyond me.
“May 1 use your telephone?” I
asked.
“Surely,” she answered.
I called the laboratory. “Is that you,
Craig?” 1 inquired.
“Yes, Walter,” he answered, recog-
nizing my voice.
“Say, Craig,” 1 asked breathlessly,
“what sort of kiss would suffocate a
person?”
My only answer was an uproarious
laugh from him at the idea.
“I know,” I persisted, “but I've got
the assignment frem the Star—and
” oman :
I'm out here interviewing a Ww he said,
about it. It’s all right to laugh—but a
here I am. I've found a case—names, | backing away. The! thro i be
dates and places. I wish you'd explain Some scientific explanation—but—
er’—
the thing, then.”
“Oh, all right, Walter,” he replied
indulgently. “I'll meet you as soon as
I can and help you out.”
We waited patiently.
The bell rang and the woman
hastened to the door, admitting Ken-
nedy.
“Hello, Walter,” he greeted.
“This is certainly most remark-
able case, Craig,” 7 said, introducing
him, and telling briefly what I had
learned.
“And you actually mean to say that
a kiss had the effect—"
Just then the telephone interrupted.
He was plainly, embarrassed and
hastened to make his adieux.
* * * * * * ®
How little impression the thing
made on Kennedy can be easily seen
from the fact that on the way down-
town that afternopn he stopped at
Martin’s, on Fifth avenue, and bought
a ring—a very handsome solitaire, the
finest Martin had in the shop.
It must have beéh about the time
that he decided to stop at Martin's
that the Dodge butler, Jennings, ad-
mitted a young lady who presented a
card on which was engraved the
“Yes,” she reasserted quickly. “Ex- | Dame :
cuse me a second.” : ¥ Miss Florence Leigh,
She answered the call. *“Oh—why 20 Prospect Avenue.
As he handed Elaine the card, she
jooked up from the book she was read-
ing and took it.
“All rig! at, show
—yes, he’s here. Do you want to speak
to him? Mr. Jameson, it’s the Star.” |
“Conf 3 $’ 3 c 3 ®. ®t .
ound it exclaimed, “isn per in, Jennings.
that like the dragging ms off
this story before it’s half finished in | L'll see her.”
al SL SET TR. Ean
“Why—that was what they put over
on Walter,” he said. “He called me
w early this afternoon—told me he
had discovered one of these poisoned
Re TI ut ln
of it—all that to pull
a ie camera! Such an elabo-
rate business—just to get me where
they could ‘fake this thing, i sup-
pose they've put someone up to say-
ing she’s engaged ?”’
Elaine was not so lightly affected.
“But,” she said severely, repressing
her emotion, “I don’t understand, Mb.
Kennedy, how scientific inquiry into
‘the poisoned kiss’ could necessitate
this sort of thing.”
She pointed at the photographs ac-
cusingly.
“But,” he began, trying to explain.
“No buts,” she interrupted.
“Then you believe that [—”
“How can you, as a scientist, ask me
to doubt the camera?’ she insinuated,
very coldly turning away. :
Kennedy rapidly began to see that
it was far more serious than he had at
first thought.
“Very well,” he said with a touch of
impatience, “if my word is not to be
taken—I—I'11—"
He had seized his hat and stick.
Elaine did not deign to answer.
Then, without a word, he stalked
out of the door.
* 2 * * ® * #®
Kennedy was moping in the labora-
tory the next day when I came in.
“Say, Craig,” I began, trying to over-
come his fit of blues.
Kennedy, filled with his own
thoughts, paid no attention to me.
Then he jumped up.
“By George—I will,” he muttered.
I poked my head out of the door in
time to see him grab up his hat and
coat and dash from the room, put-
ting his coat on as he went.
“He’s a nut today,” I exclaimed to
myself.
Though I did not know yet of the
quarrel, Kennedy had really struggled
with himself until he was willing to
put his pride in his pocket and had
made up his mind to call on Elaine
again.
As he entered he saw that it was
really: of no use, for only Aunt Jo-
sephine was in the library.
“Oh, Mr. Kennedy,” she said inno-
cently enough, “I'm so sorry she isn’t
here. There's been something trou-
bling her, and she won’t tell me what
it is. But she’s gone to call on &
young woman, a Florence Leigh, I
think.” -
“Florence Leigh!” exclaimed Craig
with a start and a frown. ‘Let me
use your telephone.’
I had turned my attention in the
faboratory to a story I was writing,
EVENING. READ THE STORY AND SEE THE PICTURES.
—
%
when 1 heard the telephone ring. it
was Craig. Without a word of apology
for his rudeness, which I knew had
been purely absent-minded, I heard
him say: “Walter, meet me in half
an hour outside that Florence Leigh's
house.”
* ® Ld ® $ * ®
Half an hour later I was walting
near the house in the suburbs to
which I had been directed by the
strange telephone call the day before.
I noticed that it was apparently de-
gerted. The blinds were closed and a
“To Let” sign was on the side of the
house.
“Hello, Walter,” cried Craig at last,
bustling along.
He led the way around the side of
the house to a window, and, with a |
powerful grasp, wrenched open the |
cloged shutters. He had just smashed |
the window Sen a policeman ap-
peared.
“Hey, you fellows—what are ¥ou |
doing there?” he shouted. {
Craig paused a Second, then pulled
his card from his pocket.
“Just the man I want,” he parried,
much to the. policeman’s surprise.
‘“There’s something crooked going on
here. Follow us in.”
We climbed into the window. There
was the same living room we had
seen the day before. But it was now
bare and deserted.
“Come on,” cried Kennedy, beckon-
ing us on.
Quickly he rushed through the
house. There was not a thing in it to
change the deserted appearance of
the first floor. At last it occurred to
Craig to grope his ‘way down cellar.
There “was nothing there.
“Kenhedy had Déen carefully going
over the place, and was at the other
side of the cellar from ourselves
when I saw him stop and gaze at the
floor.
Bi he whispered suddenly to
"We waited a foment. Nothing hap-
pened. Had he been seeing things or
hearing things, I wondered? :
From our hidden vantage we could
now see a square piece in the floor,
perhaps five feet in diameter, slowly
open up as though on a pivot.
The weird and sinister figure of a
man appeared. Over his head he wore
a peculiar helmet with hideous glass
Er over the eyes and tubes that
connected with a tank which he car-
ried buckled to his back.
Quickly he closed down the cover of
the tube, but not before a vile effluvi-
um seemed to escape, and penetrate
even to us in our hiding places. As
he moved forward, Kennedy gave a
flying leap at him, and we followed
with a regular football interference.
It was the work of only a moment
for us to subdue and hold him, while
Craig ripped off the helmet.
It was Dan the Dude.
“What's that thing?” I puffed, as f
helped Craig with the headgear.
“An oxygen helmet,” he replied.
“There must be air down the tube that
cannot be breathed.”
He went over to the tube. Carefully
he opened the top and gazed down,
starting back a second later, with his
“Sewer gas,” he ejaculated, as he
slammed the cover down. Then he
added to the policeman: “Where do
you suppose it comes from?”
“Why,” replied the officer, “the St.
James viaduct—an old sewer—is some
where about these parts.”
Kennedy puckered his face as he
gazed at our prisoner. He reached
down quickly and lifted something off
the man’s coat.
“Golden hair,” he
“Elaine's!”
A moment later he seizéd the man
and shook him roughly.
“Where is she—tell me?”
manded.
The man snarled some kind of a re-
ply, refusing to say a word about her.
“Tell me,” repeated Kennedy.
“Humph!” snorted the prisoner, more
close-mouthed than ever.
Kennedy was furious. As he sent
the man reeling away from him he
seized the oxygen helmet and began
putting it on. There was only one
thing to do—to follow the clue of the
golden strands of hair.
Down into the pest hole he went, his
head protected by the oxygen helmet.
As he cautiously took one step after
another down a series of iron rungs
inside the hole, he found that the wa-
muttered.
he de-
As Craig Kennedy Turns on the Current Elaine's Chest t Slowis Begins to
Rise and Fall.
It was just about big enough to get
through, but he managed to grope
| sewer chamber, and gazed about. It
| down the ladder.
_ impossible for him to hear.
attendants hurried up to the door.
Without a word the doctor seemed to
appreciate the gravity of the case.
He finished his examination and
shook his head.
“There is no hope—no nope,” he
said slowly
Kennedy merely stared at him But
the rest of us instinctively removed
our hats
Kenne lv 4t Klaine. overcome.
Was this the end”
It was not many minutes later that
Kennedy had Elaine in the little sit-
ting room off the laboratory, having
taken her there in the ambulance,
with the doctor and two attendants.
Elaine’s body had been placed on
couch, covered by a blanket, and —
shades were drawn. The light fell on;
her pale face.
There was something ig
gazed
about death and the vast collection
scientific apparatus, a ghastly mock:
ing of humanity. How futile was w
all in the presence of the great de-
stroyer!
Aunt Josephine had arrived,
stunned, and a moment later Perry,
Bennett. As I looked at the So
party Aunt Josephine rose slow
from her position on her knees, ihn
she had been weeping silently beside
Elaine, and pressed her hands over
her eyes, with every indication off
faintness.
Before any of us could do anything,
along it. she had staggered into the laboratory!
The minutes passed as the police- | itself. Bennett and I followed quicke
man and I watched our prisoner in the | ly. There I was busy for some time
cellar by the tube. I looked anxiously ' getting restoratives
at my watch. Meanwhile Kennedy, beside the,
“Craig!” 1 shouted at last, unable | :ouch, with an air of desperate deter
to control my fears for him. mination, turned away and opened
No answer. cabinet. From it he took a large
By this time Craig had come to & | and attached it to a storage batt ow
¥
Pe
small, open chamber, into which the | dragging the peculiar apparatus n
viaduct widened On the wall he found
another series of iron rungs, up which
he climbed. The gas was terrible.
AS he neared the top of the ladder
he came to a shelf-like aperture in the
Elaine’s couch.
To an electric light socket C
attached wires. The doctor wate
him in silent wonder. !
“Doctor,” he asked slowly as he
worked, “do you know of Professor;
was horribly dark. He reached out (Leduc of the Nantes School of Medi-|
and felt a piece of cloth. Anxiously he | 2ine?”
pulled on it. Then he reached further NThy—ves,” answered
into the darkness. | ‘but what ct him?
There was Elaine, unconscious, ap- ‘Then vou know ot his method of]
parently dead. alectrical resuscitation ’
In desperation Craig carried her ‘Yes -but”’—he paused
prehensively at Kennedy
Craig paid no attention tc his fears,
put approaching the couch on which
@laine (ay, applied the electrodes.
‘You see,” he explained, with forced
2almness. ‘1 apply the anode here—
:he cathode there’
The ambulance surgeon looked om
sxcitedly, as Craig turned on the cur-
rent, applying it to the back of the
the doctor,|
ooking ap-
With our prisoner we could only look
helplessly around
“By George, I'm going down after
him,” I cried in desperation.
“Don’t do it,” advised the police
man. “You'll never get out.”
One whiff of the horrible gas told me
that he was right.
“Listen,” said the policeman.
There was, indeed, a faint noise from geck and to the spine
the black depths below us. A rope For some minutes
alongside the rough ladder began to worked.
move, as though some one was pulling , Then the young doctor's eyes began
it taut. He gazed down. , ic bulge.
“Craig! Craig!” I called. “My heavens!” he eried under his
you?” preath. “Look!”
No answer. But the rope still Elaine's chest had slowly risen and
moved. - Perhaps the helmet made it (allen. Kennedy, his attention riveted
»n his work, applied himself with re-|
joubled efforts. The young doctor
iooked on with increased wonder.’
“Look! The color in her face! See
ner lips!” he cried.
the machine,
“Is that
He had struggled back in the Swit
ing current almost exhausted’ by
helpless burden. Holding - Baines
head above the surface of the water
face puckered up at the noxious odor. |
and pulling on the rope to attract my
attention, he could neither hear mor
shout, He had taken a turn of the
about Elaine, I tried pulling. on
There was something heavy on a
other end, and I kept on pulling. |
At last 1 could make out Kennedy
dimly thounting the ladder. ‘The
weight was the unconscious body of |
Flaine which he steadied as he mount
ed the ladder. 'I tugged harder and he
slowly came up.
Together, at last, the policeman and
I reached down and pulled them out.
We placed Elaine on the cellar floor,
as comfortably as was possible, and
tions for resuscitation. :
“No—no!” cried Kennedy. “Not
here—take her up where the air is
fresher.”
With his revolver still drawn to
overawe the prisoner, the policeman
forced him to aid us in carrying her
up the rickety flight of cellar steps
Kennedy foilowed quickly, unscrewing
the oxygen helmet as he went.
In the deserted living room we de
posited our senseless burden, while
Kennedy, the helmet off now, bent
over her.
“Quick—quick!” he cried to the offi
cer. “An ambulance!”
“But the prisoner,” the policeman
indicated.
“Hurry—hurry; Ill take care of
him,” urged Craig, seizing the police
man’s pistol and thrusting i into his
pocket. “Walter, help me.”
He was trying the ordinary methods
of resuscitation. = Meanwhile the offl
cer had hurried out, seeking the -nean
est telephone, while we worked madly
to bring Elaine back.
Again and again Kennedy bent and
outstretched her arms, trying to in
the policeman began his first aid mo,
duce respiration again. So busy way
I that for the moment I forgot owl
prisoner.
But Dan had seen his chance
Noiselessly he picked up the old chall’
in the room and with it raised was ap
proaching Kennedy to knock him out
Before I knew it myself Kennedy
had heard him. With a half instino
tive motion he drew-the revolver fron
his pocket and, almost before I could
see it, had shot the man. Without ¢
word he returned the gun to his pock
et and again bent over Elaine, without
so much as a look at the crook, whe
sank to the floor, dropping the chail
from his nerveless hands.
ambulance, which was now tearing
along to us
Frantically Kennedy was working.
A moment he paused and looked a
ter was up to his chest At the bot-
tom of the perpendicular pit was a
parrow, low passageway leading off.
me—hopeless
Just then, outside, we could hea
the ambulance, and a doctor and twy
ov 3
a —
Already the policeman had got ar
po
At last her eyes .slowly fluttered|
open—then closed.
Would the machine succeed? Or.
was it just the galvanic effect of the
surrent? The doctor noticed it: and|
Elaine Confronts Kennedy With the
“Poisoned Kiss” Photographs.
placed his ear quickly to her heart.
His face was a study in astonishment.
The minutes sped fast.
To us outside, who had no idea what
was trangpiring in the other room,
the minutes were leaden-footed. Aunt
Josephine, weak but now herself
again, was sitting nervously.
Just then the door opened.
I shall never forget the look on the
young ambulance surgeon’s face as he
murmured under his breath, “Come
here—the age of miracles is not
passed—look!”
Raising his finger to indicate that
we were to make no noise, he led us
into the other room.
Kennedy was bending over the
couch
Elaine, her eyes open now, was gaz-
ing up at him, and a wan smile flitted
over her beautiful face.
Kennedy had taken her hand, and
as he heard us enter, turned half way
{ to us, while we stared in blank won-
der from Elaine to thé weird and
complicated electrical apparatus.
“It’s the life current,” he sald sim
ply, patting the Leduc apparatus with!
his other hand.
(TO BE CONTINURD.)