I slept little during the early part of the night, however. There was constantly revolving through my mind the question of who the mysterious leader was—if he was a man. There was enough evidence against Innis, Grimes and Joan to have convicted any one of them before an average jury. That was the trouble—there was too much evidence.
The more I studied over the situation, the more I was convinced that there was a flaw in my reasoning somewhere. One of the three was guilty. But which?
Finally, I dropped off into a troubled sleep, the last thing I was conscious of being a vague remembrance of an argument between McGinnis and Snell over the game of whist in which they were engaged.
I awakened with a start. Travis was shaking me. As I opened my eyes, he studied my face for a second, then turned away.
“It’s a cinch that you ain’t faking,” he remarked.
“Faking? What do you mean?” I asked.
“Sleep,” he replied laconically. “McGinnis disappeared while he was on guard and the old man’s going to be raising merry hell before long. Thought maybe you had a hand in it—might have taken advantage of my decency to you and done for him during the night.”
“I’ll swear that I haven’t left my bunk since I went to bed,” I exclaimed.
I was about to continue my explanations when I was interrupted by a shout from the other end of the cavern. Travis hurried away on the run. Slipping into my trousers and shoes, I followed as speedily as I could.
As I turned the corner and entered the main cavern, I met Jenkins. The big negro’s face was ashen. He was trembling like a man with the ague.
“They found him!” he exclaimed. “Lordy! Lordy! He’s awful! The big boss am certainly g’wine to raise the debbil!”
“Where did they find him?” I asked.
“In the main cavern, deader’n a herring—all chopped to pieces!” And still wailing, he hurried back to the pots and pans of his kitchen.
As I approached the little group under the electric light, “The Man in the Black Mask” looked up at me.
“Bad work, here, Larson, bad work!” he exclaimed. “I am safe in presuming that you had no hand in it, am I not?”
“Do I look or act like a murderer?” I demanded, angrily. “If you think I’m up to such tricks, why don’t you lock me up?”
He was about to reply when Travis leaped into the gap. “I’ll vouch for Larson, governor,” he answered. “He was sleeping like a baby when I woke him up this morning.”
The masked man turned upon Snell. “What’s this I hear about bad blood between you and McGinnis last night?” he snapped.
“ ’S’ true, gov’nor, ’s’true,” answered the gunman. “We made it up, though, and parted good friends. God Almighty! I wouldn’t croak a pal, even if I did have a chewin’ match with him.”
“Thata right,” interposed Pedro. “I watcha da scrap. They forgeta their troubles an quita friends. McGinnis, he sleepa wit’ me. Getta up and go ona guard when Travis wakea him. Travis, he cornea t’ bed. All th’ while Snell, he sleepa sound.”
I stooped over and examined the dead man. It was as Jenkins had said. He had been literally hacked to pieces. Even his hands and face had been cut and slashed in a hundred places. His murder was not the work of an ordinary man, but a fiend—a maniac.
The masked leader scratched his cheek perplexedly. “It’s a hell of a mess, Larson—a hell of a mess! Oh, if I only dared take you into my confidence! If I only dared!”
As he made the gesture, my glance involuntarily strayed to his hand. On the palm was the peculiar scar I had noticed the night before. There was no longer any doubt in my mind. The masked chieftain of the blackmailing crew was John Grimes.
Joan and the attorney were exonerated.
Chapter XI
In order to give the reader a more complete understanding of the strange events with which I had to deal, allow me to digress for an instant and quote from my diary, which was written at the time, and in which I jotted down each item as it occurred in order to refresh my memory in case I ever managed to escape and the matter ever came to triaclass="underline"
“ ‘The Man in the Black Mask’ becomes a more and more perplexing character to me every hour,” I wrote. “I am certain that he is Grimes. And I am growing of the opinion, the longer I observe him, that the weazened president of the Elkhorn Chemical Company is a veritable Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde!
“I cannot understand him. For instance, this morning when I first observed him standing beside the body of McGinnis, he appeared nervous and overwrought. His walk was that of an old man. While I was kneeling down examining the body, he disappeared into one of the dark, gloomy tunnels, muttering to himself.
“Whether he is a drug addict or not is a question. I only know that when he reappeared some fifteen or twenty minutes later he was a new man in actions and appearance. His step was elastic and his whole manner again that of the natural leader. His eyes sparkled like coals of fire through the slits in his mask. And, strange to relate, he appeared to have forgotten the entire incident.
“Stepping up to where we were standing about the body, he looked down at the battered remnant of what had been McGinnis and demanded gruffly of Travis.
“ ‘Well, what the hell’s happened now?’
“Travis looked at him queerly, then, with a shrug of his broad shoulders, informed him that there had been nothing of interest transpired since he left.
“ ‘Since I left?’ he snarled. ‘Hell’s bells! I haven’t been here before I Explain yourself. Don’t stand there and try to make a monkey out of me.’
“Naturally Travis, as well as the rest of us, was somewhat perplexed. For a second he attempted to argue with his leader, but met with another angry rebuff. Seeing that he was getting nowhere, he finally shut up like a clam, refusing to say another word in spite of the other’s abuse. I could see, too, that the others were growing angry at the masked leader’s churlishness towards their comrade, for Travis was popular with all. Finally, however, in response to his chief’s demand, he went over the entire matter again.
“When Travis had finished his tale, the masked man ordered the mutilated body prepared for burial, giving his loud-voiced commands in so callous a manner that even the case-hardened renegades under his command—thugs and dregs of humanity though they are — were shocked.
“ ‘We’ll “plant” him outside after dark tonight,’ he ended. ‘He was no good, anyway.’
“Then, giving a number of sharp orders to his piratical crew, he asked me to walk a short distance down the cave with him.
“ ‘Have you got any theories as to who might have killed him?’ he demanded. ‘You’re a detective and chanced to be on the ground, as it were, at the time of the killing. Show me that you’re worth your salt. Deliver the murderer to me and I’ll reduce your ransom a thousand. I’d like to see one of you high-priced detectives at work!’
“I shook my head, and with a sneering remark regarding my ability, he turned the subject by informing me that the body of Backus had been taken away and, ‘hell was to pay.’
“ ‘It’ll teach them that I’m not the sort of man to be played with,’ he chuckled. ‘Tomorrow I’ll give them another surprise when Pedro knocks a second chunk off the factory with his one pounder. Perhaps by that time they will awake to the fact that I mean business. If they don’t kick in, I’ll knock the devil out of things the next time.’
“I debated with myself for a second, then, taking the bull by the horns, I turned upon him suddenly.
“ ‘Why this masquerading, Mr. Grimes?’ I asked. ‘What was your idea in getting me here on this case, only to capture me and keep me a prisoner? I am a poor man and you know it. I cannot pay the ransom you demand. And why are you robbing your colleagues and yourself?’