A few moments later they pulled up before the ambulance entrance to the hospital.

“Quick!” beckoned Elaine to the attendants, who ran out and carried Johnnie, still a complicated knot of broken bones, inside.

In the reception room were a couple of nurses and a young medical student, when Johnnie was carried in and laid on the bed.  The student, more interested in Elaine than the boy, examined him.  His face wore a puzzled look and there was every reason to believe that Johnnie was seriously injured.

At that moment the door opened and an elderly, gray-bearded house physician entered.  The others stepped back from the bed respectfully.  He advanced and examined Johnnie.

The doctor looked at the boy a moment, then at Elaine.

“I will now effect a miraculous cure by the laying on of hands,” he announced, adding quickly, “—­and of feet!”

To the utter surprise of all he seized the boy by the coat collar, lifting him up and actually bouncing him on the floor.  Then he picked him up, shook him and ran him out of the room, delivering one last kick as he went through the door.  By the way Johnnie went, it was quite evident that he was no more injured than the chauffeur.  Elaine did not know whether to be angry or to laugh, but finally joined in the general laugh.

“That was Double-Jointed Johnnie,” puffed the doctor, as he returned to them, “one of the greatest accident fakers in the city.”

Elaine, having had two unfortunate experiences during the day, now decided to go home and the doctor politely escorted her to her car.

. . . . . . . .

From his closed car, the Clutching Hand gazed intently at the Dodge house.  He could see Dan on the ladder, now washing the library window, his back toward him.

Dan turned slowly and made the sign of the hand.  Turning to his chauffeur, the master criminal spoke a few words in a low tone and the driver hurried off.

A few minutes later the driver might have been seen entering a near-by drug store and going into the telephone booth.  Without a moment’s hesitation he called up the Dodge house and Marie, Elaine’s maid, answered.

“Is Jennings there?” he asked.  “Tell him a friend wants to speak to him.”

“Wait a minute,” she answered.  “I’ll get him.”

Marie went toward the library, leaving the telephone off the hook.  Dan was washing the windows, half inside, half outside the house, while Jennings was trying to be very busy, although it was apparent that he was watching Dan closely.

“A friend of yours wants to speak to you over the telephone, Jennings,” said Marie, as she came into the library.

The butler responded slowly, with a covert glance at Dan.

No sooner had they gone, however, than Dan climbed all the way into the room, ran to the door and looked after them.  Then he ran to the window.  Across and down the street, the Clutching Hand was gazing at the house.  He had seen Dan disappear and suspected that the time had come.