length. A squad of police—something that the
bounded over and over until it reached the
town did not possess, might have found snow.
Letchman. But Marco alone hadn’t a chance.
Marco sprang forward, covering the
He turned disgustedly to meet Will
space between the startled Kemper and the
Kemper—Kemper with a handkerchief to his
body in long strides. The man had landed flat
nose.
on his face. Marco, holding a light that
“I’m afraid I’m catching cold,” said
trembled in his left hand, seized one flesh-
Will.
warm hand and turned the man over. A
Marco groaned. There was no doubt
shudder of nausea passed over him. He let the
about it—Kemper was cut out for a professor
body fall back, hiding the gory mass that had
after all!
once been a face.
Secret Agent X
18
“Wh-who is it? Kemper panted as he
right now. We’ve got to nail this thing! It’s
came up.
more than murder. It’s race suicide if Trim’s
“God only knows,” Marco husked. formula is put together and sold for military
“Features utterly wiped out—pulped!” He purposes.
forced his horrified eyes from the gruesome
spectacle.
IN another minute or so, they were crossing
Kemper was twisting nervously at a
the light-bordered field of the college airport.
scrap of paper that he had picked up. Then he
The electric beacon continued its tireless
seemed to suddenly become aware of what his
sweep across the black sky. Strategic approach
fingers were doing.
would be impossible. The combined hangar
“Look here, Marco!” he exclaimed. “I
and aviation building was dotted with a few
found this paper right here on the sidewalk.
lights. Marco asked Kemper if there was a
It—it’s got blood on it. Looks like a scrap
ground crew on duty.
from a note book—”
“No,” came the reply. “Just one man.
Marco snatched the paper from his You see the port is off the regular air lanes friend’s hand. “Might have been in the and was placed here just for the students who coffin.”
are studying flying.”
He stared in silence at the two words
They entered the door at the foot of a
scrawled across the paper: “Sin—Letchman.”
field observation tower that reared its square
“Got it!” Marco rapped. “Whoever this
bulk five stories into the air. Dim lights
poor devil was, he tried in his last moments,
burned in the hall and stairway. The very
inside the coffin, probably, to tell us who his
silence was foreboding.
killers were. Hsin and Letchman!”
“Catapult is on the roof of the hangar,”
“B-but—” Kemper sputtered, “Hsin is
explained Kemper. “There’s a door leading
dead!”
out on the roof from the third landing of this
“Of course, but remember the man tower.”
who wrote this note might have just made a
“Quiet,” cautioned Marco. He was
wild guess. We’ve no way of knowing.”
mounting the stairs swiftly, silently, senses
“Then—then this,” Kemper indicated
alert to catch any sound from within the
the corpse, “this means that the killers have
building.
another one of those coveted slips. That makes
At the third floor landing, Marco
the third! Two more to go, Marco. We’ve got
stepped out on the roof. It was a broad, flat,
to get busy!”
snow covered surface, a miniature landing
Yes, this was the third. Their puny
field in itself. Two extension lamps sent feeble
efforts to halt the murder machine seemed
illumination across the roof. At one end,
futile. Those who possessed the sinister slips
directly over the hangar door, was a steel
from Trim’s formula were marked for murder.
crane. Probably it had been used to raise
A cold shudder trailed along Marco’s spine.
supplies to the roof where Letchman had
He fought back the temptation to throw away
constructed his catapult. The curious machine
the little scrap of paper that was hidden in his
itself, that had been so fiendishly employed,
cameo ring. He had a hunch, a vague hunch,
consisted of a long steel track that extended
that that slip of paper would be his ace in the
over the edge of the roof and tilted towards the
hole.
tower of Kalvin Hall.
“The airport, Will,” he said grimly.
This, Marco decided, was the track
“The killer and his crowd must be out there
from which the coffins had been launched by
Shrieking Coffins
19
means of a complicated system of weights and
A knife slashed Marco’s coat down the
levers. Marco played his flashlight on the back. Rough hands peeled it from his murder machine. Propulsion power, it seemed,
shoulders. Marco saw that a third hooded
originated at a central piston and cylinder,
criminal had joined the others upon the roof
arrangement operated by compressed air. This
and was busily engaged in ripping Marco’s
power would be tremendously amplified by
coat to shreds and examining the lining.
means of the lever system. Compressed air, it
Marco’s suit coat underwent a similar
appeared, was piped from somewhere in the
examination and he was left standing in his
lower part of the building.
shirt sleeves, shivering in the cold.
“You see, Will,” he explained, “the
“If you’re looking for the piece of
coffins are placed on that track in front of the
Trim formula that came from Colonel
propelling lever.”
Samons’ wallet, save your time,” he said. “I
A chuckle from behind Marco. haven’t got it.”
“Maybe you’d like a demonstration.”
“We’ll find out,” grumbled one of the
That wasn’t Kemper’s voice! Marco
men. And without a word of warning, his right
pivoted and bumped into a shadowy-figure.
fist came up in a cruel slashing blow to
Something descended upon his gun wrist with
Marco’s chin. The detective reeled backwards.
bone shattering force. His gun dropped His knees struck something and he fell full soundlessly into the snow. Right arm length into something soft. His hands, temporarily crippled by the blow, Marco grasping frantically, seized the cold, metal pounded into the man’s middle with his left
edge of—a coffin! He tried to sit up.
fist His assailant recoiled and Marco leaped to
Somebody’s foot kicked him in the chest. He
push his vantage point for all it was worth. His
fell back on the soft death-cushion. The heavy
arm flexed for another blow that never went
lid dropped, crushing his finger tips,
across. Fingers of steel gripped Marco from
smothering him in a blackness that was
behind. A second man was upon him. The icy
literally sepulchral.
nose of an automatic pressed into the back of
Marco gasped, kicked madly within
Marco’s neck. A muffled voice spoke:
his narrow confines. Then he relaxed.
“Hold it, bo! Want a slug in your Something was pricking painfully into the noggin?”
flesh of his side. He knew that beneath the
There’s a coffin waiting for you, Mr.
deceiving soft cushions were steel spikes
Marco. Get him over to the catapult, Winters,”
hungry for his blood. Above his head, a small
ordered another man.
row of holes were drilled in the lid of the
“Don’t be so glib wit’ my monicker,”
coffin.
Someone outside the coffin was
who had disappeared with the load of coffins.
speaking. His voice sounded far away. “Mr.
The other man seized Marco’s arm and
Marco, as soon as we have the slip you took
shoved him back towards the catapult. It was
from Colonel Samons’ wallet, you will be
then that Marco saw that both of his captors
permitted to go free.”
wore black
“Like hell!” Marco retorted. “You got
hoodlike masks. Where was Will Kemper?
similar slips from Scolar and Brandon. If you
“Now,” said the man who had first
hadn’t, you wouldn’t keep on trying to get the
attacked Marco, “put up your hands. We’ll
missing pieces.”
search you thoroughly. If you haven’t got
“I suppose you realize that we can
what we want, you’ll tell us where it is.”
keep you there indefinitely,” the voice went
Secret Agent X
20
on. “A living man finds a coffin a tiresome
Marco tensed himself. Slowly the lid
place to rest. Especially is it tiresome when we
raised a crack. “Hand the paper to me,” the
attach a little electric hammer to the lid of the
leader commanded.
coffin and let it tap-tap-tap just above your
Marco’s arm snaked through the
head until the persistent, monotonous sound
opening. His fingers extended the slip of paper
drives you mad. Brandon held out just thirty
to meet the killer’s hand. Then Marco moved!
minutes under such torment. It will be easier
With a desperate heave, he threw back the lid
for you to tell us where the slip is now.”
of the coffin and sprang to his feet. A cry of
alarm from the masked man. “Power!” he
INSIDE the coffin, Marco’s hands were screamed.
moving rapidly. His fingers trembled along his
A lever crashed into place. Marco
vest. His fountain pen! They had left that! He
leaped clear just as the coffin shot screeching
jerked it out, unscrewed the cap, remembering
into space. He landed in a maze of snarling
ruefully how he had used that pen in a sleight-
machinery. A moving lever knocked him flat,
of-hand trick early that night. He flipped back
but saved his life, he knew, as a bullet shrilled
the cameo setting of his ring and took out the
above his head. Marco rolled under a beam,
scrap of paper. In the dark, he scribbled a line
seized a guy wire, and pulled to his feet. Then
on the paper with his pen.
he raced across the roof, zigzagging through
He could feel the coffin being raised.
snow while two automatics barked and bullets
He heard the clash of steel as it was lowered
whined inches from his body.
to the track. He knew that as soon as he
He gained the door and was alternately
handed over the paper, the fiends would pull
striding, falling, stumbling down the steps. He
the lever, sending him hurtling through the
did not know where he was going. He only
freezing dark with air screaming through the
knew that he could not land in a hotter spot
holes in the coffin lid threatening to burst his
than he had been in. Marco crashed through a
eardrums. Then a last sickening crash.
door and found himself in a basement.
“Hey,” he shouted, “I’ll come across!
A shadowy form, a hooded, fiendish
Can’t stand this any longer.”
devil leaped, out at him. Marco led with his
A chuckle from outside the coffin. “He
right to the man’s head. The hooded killer
hasn’t the guts like them seedy profs.” It was
ducked and yelled, “Marco, you jackass!”
Marco reined in his second blow. He
A whispered conversation outside the
stared at the masked face. “Will!” he
coffin. Footsteps across the roof. Then another
whispered huskily. “You?”
voice spoke. “Tell us, Mr. Marco, where the
“Hell, yes. In another moment, if I’d
slip is.”
met that haymaker of yours, I’d have been
“I’ve got it here with me,” Marco candidate for a coffin.” Will’s hand came up replied.
and jerked off the hood-mask. “Swiped this
“Impossible! We searched you from a friend of ours. I was afraid you’d get in thoroughly.”
a tight spot and I was going to be the hero and
Marco forced a laugh that echoed come to the rescue. When you started up the hollowly. “Remember, I’m a magician. Open
stairs, I suddenly decided I’d look around
the lid and I will give it to you.”
below. I do things like that I came down here,
“It’s a trick,” someone whispered.
found some of those hi-jacked coffins. I was
“Never mind. Stand by the lever! I’ll
looking them over, when a masked man came
cover him with the gun.”
in. Well, I closed in fast. It didn’t last long. I
Shrieking Coffins
21
beat a lot of things out of that masked devil
cursed in a hoarse voice that Marco
before he tried a getaway. Then I think I broke
recognized as belonging to Winters. A gun in
his neck. Come take a look at him.”
the truckster’s hand nosed threateningly at
Kemper pulled back a door and Marco’s middle. One glanced across the field pointed to a huddled heap of flesh.
through the open door and Marco saw a plane
Marco gasped. “That little shrimp was
taxiing across the field. He ignored the gun in
in it too?” For in spite of the fact that the
the truckster’s hand, led a chopping blow to
man’s head was turning blue-black from the man’s jaw, at the same time seizing Kemper’s pommeling, Marco recognized Mr.
Winter’s gun wrist. A bullet creased Marco’s
Welsh, the history instructor.
shoulder. Another shot crashed out. The
Suddenly he remembered the scene in
criminal doubled, dropped his gun, and
&n
bsp; the steam tunnel when he had come across the
clutched at his belly. Will Kemper came out of
body of Hsin. He remembered the masked
the basement way, red hair upstanding. Smoke
man who had shot at him from the other side
dribbled from the nose of his automatic.
of the coffin. He remembered that the passage
Marco scooped the wounded
had been so nearly blocked off that he could
criminal’s gun from the floor and ran from the
not follow the slayer. Only a very small man
hangar. The plane was taxiing into the wind.
like Welsh could have got through that hole.
“They’re going to get away, Marco!”
“The coffins weren’t hijacked,” shouted Kemper.
explained Kemper. “Welsh confessed, before
he caved in, that Winters, the truck driver, had
CHAPTER VI
been employed by them. He simply drove the
THE MAN WHO LIED
truck and all over here to the airport to join the
gang. Someone in the crowd decided that they
BUT Marco saw something that Kemper had
could make good use of those coffins. Burk,
evidently failed to see. A big touring car was
the airport attendant was in it, too. Trim gave
plowing across the landing field. Its powerful
one of his formula parts to Welsh so that gave
headlights were suddenly switched on, cutting
them something to start on. But the real leader
a clean swath to the nose of the airplane. Men
of the pack remains a mystery. Welsh went
spilled from the car—men with-rifles,
out before I could get that out of him.”
automatics, machine guns.
Marco nodded. “I know who he is. My