Chapter XXVII: The Phantom's Ruse

The doctor placidly finished his cigarette. The sleek, genial smile had not left his face for an instant, and his eye still held the same twinkle of languid amusement.

"Miss Hardwick is a very plucky young woman," he murmured, "but evidently the spook chamber, as you so aptly termed it a little while ago, has proved too much for her nerves. The cry we just heard seemed to indicate that she was in great distress. Being alone in a dark room with nothing but skeletons for company is not a very pleasant experience for a woman."

The Phantom's face turned a shade whiter. For a moment he was dazed by the realization that Helen was undergoing the same excruciating ordeal to which he himself had been subjected. The ghostly spectacle had caused even his strong nerves to writhe and he shuddered at thought of the effect it must have on her more delicate organism.

"I gave you a little taste of it just to enable you to appreciate Miss Hardwick's predicament," continued the doctor in matter-of-fact tones. "The arrangement is simplicity itself. My excellent Jerome fixed it up. The scenic effects are so simple that a child could have handled them. Yet you will admit, I think, that they serve their purpose. I once knew a person--not a weakling, either--who went mad under similar pressure. It is strange how----"

Another shriek, not so loud as the first, but long-drawn and hoarse, interrupted him. He paused for a moment, eyeing the Phantom with a level glance while the scream lasted, then fell to polishing his lenses.

"As I was about to remark," he went on, "it is strange how darkness and a touch of the grewsome affect one's mind. The soul seems to shrink from such things. The reason, I think, must be atavistic. The poor wretch I was telling you about, the one who lost his mind----"

"Stop it!" cried the Phantom. His voice was husky. "Get her out of that room before she goes mad!"

Doctor Bimble seemed suddenly interested. "Do I understand that you are willing to listen to reason? Are you ready to reconsider the suggestion I made a while ago and which you so grandiloquently rejected? In other words, are you willing to tell me where your treasures are hidden?"

"Yes--anything! I'll do whatever you ask. Only stop that infernal hocus-pocus at once!"

"Oh, very well." There was a smile of keen gratification on Bimble's lips as he got up and left the room.

The Phantom, every limb shaking, stared at the door through which he had passed. Suddenly his blood-streaked eyes grew wide. He remembered something that was almost as terrifying as the shrieks he had just heard. His thoughts went back to the moment when he had awakened in the dark room, and he recalled the snatches of conversation he had overheard.

One of the two speakers, he was now almost certain, had been Doctor Bimble. The voice had sounded familiar, and he would probably have recognized it but for the dazed condition he was in. One of the doctor's sentences had burned itself into the Phantom's brain:

"The young lady is here to serve our purpose. After that----"

He saw it all in a blinding flash that scorched like fire. With their usual cunning the Duke's men had perceived that neither by torture nor by threats of death could the Gray Phantom be forced to comply with their desires. They had known that he held his life lightly and could suffer personal punishment like an Indian. And so their diabolically crafty minds had conceived the idea of letting Helen Hardwick's agonized cries pierce his armor of pride and obduracy, thus accomplishing what could never have been accomplished by other means.

They had judged him accurately, was his grim reflection. Rather than see a hair of Helen's head harmed he would gladly make any sacrifice. But the sinister significance of the doctor's words had been plain. The Phantom would not insure Helen's safety by accepting Bimble's terms. Evidently, Miss Hardwick had come into possession of information which the gang feared she might divulge if set free, and consequently she was to be silenced forever as soon as Bimble's purpose had been attained.

While he awaited the doctor's return the Phantom thought quickly. By accepting Bimble's terms he would only be hastening Helen's doom, for the gang, having no further use for her after they had gained their ends, would probably put her to death quickly. On the other hand, by rejecting the conditions, he would at least gain time. In the meanwhile Bimble might inflict cruel suffering upon her, but his selfish interests would restrain him from taking her life, for, once he had done so, his sole hold upon the Phantom would be gone.

The reasoning was plain, but he found it hard to reach a decision. Perhaps death would be merciful in comparison with the tortures that Bimble might subject her to. He was caught between the jaws of a fearful dilemma, and the only sane course he could see was to play for time.

Doctor Bimble returned. "Why do women never swoon until the worst is over?" he questioned in whimsical tones. "Miss Hardwick is a surprising young lady, but she is not free from the foibles of her sex. She had no sooner been taken out of the dark room than she promptly collapsed."

The Phantom held back the biting words on his tongue, but he could not forego a look of withering contempt.

"Do you know," the doctor went on, "I am almost certain that Miss Hardwick knows where your retreat is located? In fact, she let slip something that convinces me she does. But do you suppose the stubborn little beauty would tell? Not she! I don't believe the fear of eternal fires could force her to speak."

He had guessed correctly, but the Phantom carefully refrained from signifying by a look or a word that it was so. Miss Hardwick knew about Sea-Glimpse, and it was with mingled feelings the Phantom heard of her refusal to reveal the secret. Had she become aware, through some process of divination, that her life would be forfeited the moment the information was in the doctor's possession, or had she been guided by other reasons?

"So you see," continued Bimble in smooth tones, "that you will save the little lady from all sorts of unpleasantness by acceding to my very reasonable terms. It would be a shame if such a charming woman should become a gibbering maniac as a result of obstinacy on your part. Where did you say this place of yours is situated?"

"I haven't said yet." The Phantom forced a laugh. "Before I do, you and I must have a definite understanding. Do you agree to set Miss Hardwick free the moment I have given you the information?"

"What an unreasonable question, my dear Phantom! I agree to do nothing of the kind. I shall keep Miss Hardwick here until I have satisfied myself that you have been dealing with me on the square and that the directions you have given me are accurate."

"Fair enough. But after you have satisfied yourself in regard to my good faith, what then?"

"Then," said the doctor, and there was not a trace of guile in his face, "Miss Hardwick shall be immediately released."

"On your word of honor?"

"On my word of honor."

"Snake!" the Phantom was tempted to say, but he pretended to be satisfied. Already his mind was inventing a ruse. He would gain several hours of valuable time by inveigling the doctor into a search for a place that had existence only in the Phantom's imagination. In the meantime several things were likely to happen. It was just possible that Granger had been able to trace the movements of the limousine and would come to the rescue. At any rate, the Phantom believed that if he could but stave off the crisis for a while his customary luck would once more reassert itself.

His mind worked fast. Doubtless the doctor knew that he had arrived in New York less than twenty-four hours after the Gage murder. Allowing for slow and infrequent trains and the time required for news to reach out-of-the-way places, he would have to choose a point that was not more than ten or twelve hours removed from New York. With a mental picture of the map before his eyes, he outlined a highly imaginative route to the doctor.

Bimble made a few notes. Then he looked up, and for once there was an ominous glint in the usually placid eyes.

"My men will start at once," he announced. "They will be instructed to wire me as soon as they have reached their destination. I hope, for Miss Hardwick's sake, that you have not tried to deceive me."

With that he was gone; but the softly spoken words, edged with just the faintest trace of a sinister note, lingered for a long time in the Phantom's memory.