She cut the sentence short, remembering her eyes and the photograph as we entered, and a deep blush crimsoned her face.

“Mum’s the word,” cautioned Kennedy, “You must smuggle us out of the house, some way.”

. . . . . . . .

Kennedy lost no time in confirming the suspicions of his bolometer as to the cause of the death of the two innocent victims of the machinations of the Clutching Hand.

Both of them, he had learned, had been removed to a nearby undertaking shop, awaiting the verdict of the coroner.  We sought out the shop and prevailed on the undertaker to let us see the bodies.

As Kennedy pulled down the shroud from the face of the first victim, he disclosed on his forehead a round dark spot about the size of a small coin.  Quickly, he moved to the next coffin and, uncovering the face, disclosed a similar mark.

“What is it?” I asked, awestruck.

“Why,” he said, “I’ve heard of a certain Viennese, one LeCroix I believe, who has discovered or perfected an infra-red ray instrument which shoots its power a great distance with extreme accuracy and leaves a mark like these.”

“Is he in New York?” I inquired anxiously.

“Yes, I believe he is.”

Kennedy seemed indisposed to answer more until he knew more, and I saw that he would prefer not being questioned for the present.

We thanked the undertaker for his courtesy and went out.

. . . . . . . .

Meanwhile Elaine had called up Perry Bennett.

“Mr. Bennett,” she exclaimed over the wire, “just guess who called on me?”

“Who?” he answered, “I give it up.”

“Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Jameson,” she called back.

“Is that so?” he returned.  “Isn’t that fine?  I didn’t think he was the kind to run away like that.  How did it happen?”

Elaine quickly told the story as I had told her.

Had she known it, however, Bennett’s valet, Thomas, was at that very moment listening at the door, intensely interested.

As Bennett hung up the receiver, Thomas entered the room.

“If anyone calls me,” ordered Bennett, “take the message, particularly if it is from Miss Dodge.  I must get downtown—­and tell her after I finish my court work for the day I shall be right up.”

“Yes sir,” nodded the valet with a covert glance at his master.

Then, as Bennett left, he followed him to the door, paused, thought a moment, then, as though coming to a sudden decision, went out by an opposite door.

It was not long afterward that a knock sounded at the door of the new headquarters of the Clutching Hand.  LeCroix and the secretary were there, as well as a couple of others.

“The Chief!” exclaimed one.

The secretary opened the door, and, sure enough, the Clutching Hand entered.

“Well, how did your infra-red rays work?” he asked LeCroix.