The Black Falcon

CHAPTER XVIII THE FALCON’S THREAT

Two nights later, Police Commissioner Ralph Weston was seated at the desk in the office of his apartment. The official’s face showed anger. Detective Joe Cardona, grim-mouthed, was seated opposite. The detective was perusing a letter which Weston had handed him.

Another message from The Black Falcon! The birdlike letterhead; the feathered signature — both were tokens of the mysterious criminal who had bewildered the police. The lines that Cardona studied were a new and final threat:

“What do you think of it, Cardona?” quizzed Weston anxiously.

“It looks bad,” admitted the detective. “You haven’t any idea where The Black Falcon will hit — like you had with Elias Carthers?”

“Cardona,” returned Weston, in a serious tone, “the previous crimes have been daring. This one will probably exceed them all. The Black Falcon is determined to beat down our resistance. He is stubborn — as stubborn as he is crafty.

“He had the temerity to call me from Cranston’s own home, the night of that abduction. I do not doubt but that he will act with similar boldness tonight — but from a spot closer at hand. I have placed police on guard at the homes of many wealthy persons. Nevertheless, The Black Falcon is a supercriminal; we shall find it difficult to frustrate him.”

“He makes his threats good,” admitted Cardona. “I don’t like this talk of his — his wisecrack that there will be a new commissioner.”

“Forget that part,” laughed Weston. “It is mere braggadocio. No action of The Black Falcon could cause me to resign from my post.”

“Tonight’s our chance, commissioner,” decided Cardona, in a grim tone. “The whole force is on the lookout for Velvet Laffrey. If there’s a chance to bag him, he’ll get bagged. But if he once starts on a get-away he—”

“His escape will be probable,” interposed the commissioner, in a glum tone. “Cardona, there is no doubt but that The Black Falcon uses a plane. The New Jersey State police found an abandoned car a few miles from Lamont Cranston’s home. We found abandoned cars after the previous abductions.”

“He can’t land a plane in Manhattan.”

“Granted. But he can choose a spot on Long Island. That means a dash after he has seized his victim. The air patrol is ready; but it is difficult to trace an escaping airplane.”

Cardona had no comment. The detective was as glum as the commissioner. Cardona had felt that some new trouble was in the offing when he had been summoned here from headquarters.

“We’ll sit tight, Cardona,” decided Weston. “We had a stroke of luck that night when The Black Falcon tried to kidnap Rowland Ransdale. Perhaps, tonight—”

“What has become of Ransdale?” queried Cardona. “He went out of town, you told me—”

“Yes,” interposed Weston, “I thought the move was a wise one. Ransdale wanted seclusion. He promised, however, to notify me immediately upon his return to New York. The Black Falcon has failed but once. Ransdale caused his failure. There is reason why the criminal should again seek to capture Ransdale.”

There was a knock at the door, just as Joe Cardona tossed The Black Falcon’s letter on the desk. The police commissioner called an inquiry.

“What is it, Kempton?”

“A gentleman here to see you, sir,” came the servant’s response. “He is in the anteroom. Mr. Rowland Ransdale.”

“Ransdale!” exclaimed the commissioner.

“Yes, sir,” came Kempton’s reply. “He says that he has just arrived in New York; that he must speak to you at once.”

“Usher him in, Kempton! Immediately!”

THE police commissioner was on his feet. He pounded the desk emphatically and The Black Falcon’s letter trembled. Weston was staring hard at Joe Cardona.

“The Black Falcon may be after Ransdale again!” exclaimed the commissioner. “Perhaps there is a new threat at the apartment. I have my men in the limousine out front. Let us hope, Cardona, that Rowland Ransdale has some clew.”

The detective nodded. He was keyed like Weston, although he did not show it. A tense moment passed. Then came a knock at the door. Weston gave a summons to enter.

Cardona was looking at the police commissioner. Weston was staring at the door. Cardona was about to glance in the same direction; he stopped suddenly as he saw a fixed look come over Weston’s face. The commissioner’s eyes were bulging in disbelief; his lips had tightened to a state of rigidity.

In alarm, Joe Cardona swung toward the door. The detective, like the commissioner became tense. The sight of the man who stood there brought home the reason for Weston’s strange alarm.

Both men had expected to see Rowland Ransdale. Instead, they were facing a visitor who had not been announced. Framed in the doorway was a man whose eyes were glaring through the openings of a mask; whose lips were framing an evil gloat.

In his right hand the intruder held a shining revolver as a threat to the men whom he had surprised. There was no mistaking the identity of the insidious stranger.

Commissioner Ralph Weston and Detective Joe Cardona were at the mercy of The Black Falcon!