<h2 id="c18"><span class="h2line1">CHAPTER XVIII</span> <br/><span class="h2line2"><i>ESCAPE</i></span></h2>
<p>Flash searched his pockets for a knife he usually
carried. It was missing, as were many other
articles which had been lost in his flight from the
forest fire.</p>
<p>A desk occupied one corner of the room. Crossing
to it, he began searching for an object which might
be used to pry off the hinges of the outside door.</p>
<p>Save for a few scattered pins, blank paper and
metal clips, the drawers were empty. They all gave
evidence of having been hastily cleaned out.</p>
<p>“Just my luck,” grumbled Flash.</p>
<p>In disgust, Flash slammed one of the drawers shut.
It jammed and did not entirely close. For a moment
he thought the wood had warped. Then he saw that
a piece of cardboard prevented it from returning to
its normal position.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_150">150</div>
<p>Jerking out the drawer completely, he ran his hand
into the opening, and brought to light an old faded
photograph. One glance assured him that it was a
picture of Albert Povy in his younger years. The man
wore the military uniform of a foreign country which
Flash did not recognize.</p>
<p>Across the bottom of the picture had been scrawled
a name and date:</p>
<p>“Albert Povy ... December 22, 1917.”</p>
<p>Flash studied the photograph with deep interest.
Povy’s face was marked with the same jagged scar
which had identified him in later years.</p>
<p>Deciding to keep the picture as evidence, he carefully
folded it and placed it in an inside coat pocket.</p>
<p>“This may prove useful,” he murmured.</p>
<p>To make certain no other article had dropped behind
the drawer, he again ran his hand into the opening.
His fingers encountered a paper booklet of
smooth finish. Pulling it out, he saw that it was a
railroad time table.</p>
<p>Flash would have tossed it aside had not a penciled
circle drawn his attention to the second page. A
train number had been marked, and it was the same
streamliner which Povy had taken from Brandale.</p>
<p>He stuffed the time table into his pocket along with
the photograph. The two discoveries added nothing
to his general knowledge, but if ever he should meet
Rascomb again, the evidence might be of use.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_151">151</div>
<p>Next his search took him to the bathroom, which
connected with the den and which also lacked windows.
Almost at once he was rewarded. In the medicine
cabinet he found two tools, a nail file and a rusty
razor blade.</p>
<p>Diligently, Flash set to work, trying to remove the
screws which held the ornamental door hinges. The
task was a tedious one. Twice he was compelled to
wait as he heard Fleur’s step in a near-by hall.</p>
<p>Success crowned his efforts at last. With the hinges
off, he swung back the door and stepped from his
prison.</p>
<p>Flash stood for a moment, listening. The only
sound came from a dripping faucet in the kitchen.</p>
<p>He moved stealthily to the door. It had been
locked from the outside. The door opening from the
dining room likewise was barred.</p>
<p>Testing a window, he found it both locked and
nailed. In no mood to delay, Flash seized a plate
from the sideboard and hurled it through the pane.
Enlarging the hole, he climbed through, lowering
himself to the ground.</p>
<p>The sound of splintering glass had brought Fleur
running from the dock. He swung his lantern so
that the beam fell upon the cameraman.</p>
<p>“Hey, get back in there! Get back or I’ll fire!”</p>
<p>Flash did not believe that Fleur was armed. To be
on the safe side he dodged behind a tree. Hidden by
the darkness, he kept watch of the moving lantern,
and when he saw his chance, ran for the road.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_152">152</div>
<p>Fleur made no attempt to follow. Actually he was
afraid for his own safety, believing his employer’s
story that the young man had lost his mind.</p>
<p>Flash ran until he was exhausted. After that he
walked at a fast pace. The shoes he had borrowed
from Rascomb’s wardrobe were too large for his feet,
and rubbed up and down at every step. Soon he was
tormented by painful blisters on each heel.</p>
<p>Driven by the knowledge that minutes were precious,
he kept steadily on. The road was deserted of
traffic. Cars neither approached nor passed him.</p>
<p>Turning a bend he came within view of Rascomb’s
private air field. A sudden fear assailed him. Already
he might be too late! In all probability the
man had made a quick get-away by plane.</p>
<p>Crawling under a fence, he hastened to the hangar.
The huge doors were padlocked.</p>
<p>Striking a match, he gazed through a window. To
his great relief, the monoplane was still there.</p>
<p>“Then Rascomb must be at Excelsior City or somewhere
fairly close,” he reasoned. “That final ‘deal’
he mentioned! It is holding him here and may yet
prove his undoing!”</p>
<p>As far as Flash was concerned, Rascomb’s espionage
work still was shrouded in deep mystery. His
knowledge of the man’s past was merely vague rumor.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_153">153</div>
<p>But there were certain definite points from which
he might work. He definitely knew that Rascomb
and Albert Povy were the same man. From his own
observation, Povy had displayed interest in Bailey
Brooks’ new parachute, which might or might not
have significance.</p>
<p>And Povy’s interest in Major Hartgrove was a factor
not to be ignored. Obviously he had boarded the
streamliner with the intention of keeping the army
man under observation. The wreck itself might have
been an accident, but one which possibly had given
Povy the opportunity he sought.</p>
<p>“He tried to steal something from the Major and
seemingly failed,” Flash reasoned. “Then, knowing
that his identity had been learned, he deemed it wise
to disappear. But now he may make a final attempt
to achieve his purpose. The first thing I must do is
get in touch with the Major and warn him!”</p>
<p>The road curved and a cluster of lights could be
seen ahead. Flash quickened his step. He was within
view of Clear Lake at last.</p>
<p>A few minutes later he walked into the general store
at the edge of the village. The only occupant was a
woman who stood behind the counter. She stared
as he moved toward her.</p>
<p>“Where can I hire a car to take me to Excelsior
City?” Flash asked.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_154">154</div>
<p>“Well, now, I don’t know,” she answered with deliberate
speech. “All the men folks is fightin’ the fire.
I’m lookin’ after the store for my husband.”</p>
<p>“Isn’t there someone here who has a car I could
borrow or rent?”</p>
<p>“You look like you been in the fire yourself,
Mister.”</p>
<p>“I have,” Flash replied briefly. “It’s very important
for me to get to town—”</p>
<p>“Claude Geiser might take you,” the woman interrupted.
“He’s too no-account to do an honest lick
of work or help the rangers, but he has a car.”</p>
<p>“Where will I find him?”</p>
<p>“Second house past the post office. He may not
be at home.”</p>
<p>A light shone in the dwelling, and Flash was relieved
to find Claude Geiser there. The young man
displayed no interest in making the long trip to Excelsior
City, but his attitude changed when a ten dollar
bill was waved before his eyes.</p>
<p>“All right, I’ll take you,” he agreed reluctantly.
“How soon you want to start?”</p>
<p>“Now,” said Flash. “And I’ll do the driving.”</p>
<p>The trip to Excelsior City was made in fast time
despite young Geiser’s frequent protests that his new
car was being shaken to pieces. At the hotel Flash
paid what he owed and they parted company.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_155">155</div>
<p>Left alone, the cameraman hesitated. After an instant
of debate he decided to talk with Major Hartgrove
by long distance telephone before taking any
action against Rascomb.</p>
<p>“Accusing a man of being a spy even when I know
it to be true, is ticklish business,” he thought. “I’ll
need someone to back me up.”</p>
<p>Flash entered the hotel. He crossed to the desk
and asked for the key to his room.</p>
<p>“Mr. Evans!” exclaimed the clerk. “We understood—that
is, your friend told us you were lost in
the forest fire!”</p>
<p>“I’m very much alive,” Flash snapped. “When
did you last see Doyle?”</p>
<p>“I haven’t noticed him in the lobby since midnight.”</p>
<p>“Midnight! How late is it?”</p>
<p>“Twenty after one, sir.”</p>
<p>Flash nodded and walked to the elevator. So intent
was he upon his thoughts that he failed to see a
familiar figure slip quietly from a telephone booth on
the opposite side of the lobby.</p>
<p>The man was Herbert Rascomb.</p>
<div class="pagenum" id="Page_156">156</div>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />