The Ghost Of The Manor

CHAPTER XXV A MURDERER FLEES

OF all the astonished men who had witnessed the amazing appearance of Terwiliger’s corpse, Sidney Gorson was the first to take action. Springing forward, the police chief seized the envelope that was clutched in the dead detective’s hand. He wrested it from the stiff fist and stared at ink-inscribed lines that shone blue upon the wrapper of the packet.

Gorson’s slow voice was reading from word to word. Unconsciously, the police chief continued to recite the statements that shone before his eyes. Warren Barringer looked on in amazement; Clark Brosset wore a puzzled air; the two policemen were stolid and unmoving, as Gorson continued in an awed tone:

There was a momentary pause, while Gorson’s fingers fumbled with the envelope to find what lay within. It was then that Warren Barringer cried a spasmodic warning. He, alone, had been looking toward Clark Brosset. He had seen a hunted stare appear upon the club president’s face.

“Look out!” shouted Warren. “Stop him! Stop him!”

Clark Brosset was edging toward the door as Chief Gorson swung to see him. The look on Brosset’s face told its own story. This man was the murderer mentioned in those words upon the envelope!

While his countenance showed its fiendish, incriminating gleam, Clark Brosset was drawing his hand from his coat pocket. The nickel-plated barrel of a revolver came to view as the officer by the door leaped forward to prevent the murderer’s escape.

With a cry of rage, Brosset dodged the policeman and sprang toward the door. The officer followed to stop him. Instead of snatching at the doorknob, Brosset managed to press the light switch and plunge the room into total darkness.

“I’ve got him stopped!” shouted the policeman at the door. “He can’t get away!”

Promptly, the second officer aided with his flashlight. The rays of the torch revealed Warren Barringer huddled in the chair; then the door, with the policeman guarding it, revolver in hand.

CLARK BROSSET was not in view. The gleam swung across the room. It showed Police Chief Gorson, crouched beside the table, with the envelope in his hand, the murdered forms of Jasper Delthern and Harold Terwiliger at his feet.

This time the beam showed Clark Brosset. In the darkness, the man was almost to the farther wall. Gorson, by backing away, had escaped him. Brosset’s aim had been to snatch the envelope.

Before the president of the City Club could turn his gun toward Gorson, the policeman fired wildly from the door. His hasty shot went wide; but it gave the police chief a chance to scramble beyond the farther end of the desk, carrying the precious envelope along with him.

Clark Brosset fired at the door. The policeman uttered a sharp cry as the bullet clipped his shoulder. Brosset did not shoot again. With Gorson and the other officer drawing their revolvers, the self-revealed fiend feared the odds against him.

Diving toward the paneled wall, Brosset huddled to the floor and exerted upward pressure against the wall. The electric eye of the flashlight showed the panel moving upward. Like a scurrying rat, Brosset plunged through and let the panel drop behind him.

A moment later, the lights of the room came on. Police Chief Gorson thought that the wounded officer had pressed the switch by the door. Dropping the big envelope on the desk, Gorson leaped to the panel. It refused to budge. The opening had closed tightly, without a trace.

“Downstairs!” cried Gorson. “That’s where I’m going! Block him if he tries to come back here! Get that wall open!”

With the power of an enraged bull, the police chief yanked open the door and dashed into the outer hallway. His hearty bellow carried to the depths below.

“Stop him!” shouted Gorson. “Watch out below! Get Clark Brosset! Get him! He’s coming down through a secret passage!”

Uniformed policemen were arriving in the lower hallway as Chief Gorson reached the landing. They had been stationed there during the quiz of Warren Barringer. They were ready now to aid in preventing the escape of Clark Brosset, could the man be found.

A murderer was fleeing. The truth was known, although the details of the crimes were unrevealed. The incriminating envelope lay upstairs, guarded by a watchful officer.

Could Police Chief Gorson prevent Clark Brosset’s escape? What would be the fleeing man’s mode of exit from the secret passage which now refused to open at the end which terminated in the study?

These were important questions — and only one person in Delthern Hall could provide the answer. That was the unknown being whose unseen hand had projected Terwiliger’s dead body into the room of death.

Only The Shadow knew!