Aided by the traction afforded him by his rubber-soled shoes, “X” crept slowly back up the slates toward the skylight. Catching the frame of the skylight, he extended himself full length on the roof. With a special chrome steel jimmy, which he took from his pocket, he worked the inner latch of the skylight loose and swung the cover back on its hinges. He crawled up so that he could seat himself on the edge of the opening. Since he had given his flashlight to Betty, he had no way of knowing what lay below.
He snaked his body through the opening, caught the edge of the skylight frame with his fingers, dangled there a moment, and dropped. His feet struck something that instantly gave way in a crackling, splintering smash that must have been audible through the house. The attic of the mayor’s house had not been floored, and “X’s” weight had been too much for the plaster. He picked himself up from a mess of broken plaster and splintered lath. He had no idea where he was.
The room was blackness itself. He stumbled forward and encountered a wall. Groping along the wall, he came to a door frame. His fingers closed over the doorknob. He gave it a twist, flung the door wide, and stepped into a hall.
As “X” moved down the hall toward the stairway, a pistol shot rang out through the night. From the foot of the stairs came a cry of terror. As “X” bounded down the stairs, he saw a man stagge across the hall tearing at the hilt of a knife that protruded from his chest. The front door was standing wide; and on the veranda two of the Ghoul’s cutthroats, who had evidently cleared the wall with their jumping-balloons, were struggling with one of the mayor’s bodyguards.
“X” was about to go to the assistance of the guard when a heavily built, gray-haired man ran through the door and into the hall. It was the mayor. There was a revolver in his hand, and before the Agent could make a move to stop him, the mayor turned his gun on “X” and fired. The bullet whined above the Agent’s head. “X” leaped upon the mayor before he could shoot again and twisted the revolver from his hand.
“Quiet!” “X” hissed. “Your safety depends upon speed and quiet.”
“It’s a trap!” shouted the mayor at the top of his lungs. “You’re not a policeman. You’re the Ghoul. A Chine—”
The mayor’s sentence choked off. “X’s” hand had darted from his pocket. His cigarette lighter spat its last charge of gas straight into the mayor’s face. The man tottered forward, fell across the Agent’s shoulders. “X” lifted him bodily, and started up the stairs. If the mayor’s bodyguard could hold off the Ghoul’s other jumping-balloonists, “X” hoped to be able to clear the mayor’s grounds and take the mayor to a place of safety.
IN the hall, “X” pressed on the light and found the attic steps without difficulty. How he was going to get the mayor up on the roof where the jumping-balloon was moored, he did not know. He hoped to find some sort of a ladder that would reach the skylight. But in this he was disappointed.
The attic was empty save for a couple of old trunks resting across the joists. There was, however, a gable jutting out from the steeply slanting roof. “X” walked across the joists and entered the gable. He unlatched and opened the casement window that centered it. Looking down, he saw that there was perhaps five feet of roof between the casement and the eaves — a narrow enough margin when a man starts slipping down the slates of a steeply inclining roof.
But “X” had no intention of slipping. In a moment he had removed his belt from the loops of his trousers and fastened it beneath the mayor’s arms. This gave him a good handle by which to hold the man.
“X” stepped over the sill, holding to the window frame with one hand and dragging the mayor with the other. In this precarious position, he shifted his grip to the edge of the gable roof. With infinite care, he worked the mayor out onto the roof. Then he began his perilous ascent, keeping close to the gable.
Gaining the ridgepole of the house, “X” saw that the chimney to which he had moored the balloon was directly below him and opposite the gable. He had nothing to do but release his grip on the ridgepole and slide down until the base of the chimney stopped him.
Yu’an was still there, huddled against the chimney. “X” strapped the harness he had removed from the Chinese to the mayor. Then he attached the mooring line of the balloon to the harness. Still holding to the belt beneath the mayor’s arms, he released the balloon from the chimney. The upward pull of the bag enabled him to hoist the mayor to his shoulders without difficulty. He then stepped far enough to one side so that he could clear the chimney and poised himself for the leap.
From his vantage point, “X” could see that the Ghoul’s men had encountered the state police. He could hear the sound of machine-gun fire. A sudden gust of wind tugging at the bag, caused “X” to lurch forward. He kicked out. The balloon climbed into the air. But that moment of off-balance had spoiled his jump. The ground was coming up to meet him faster than he had anticipated. He jerked up his legs to avoid the wall; but as the balloon settled, “X” felt his back brush the wires at the top of the wall.
Distantly, the burglar alarm system raised a mad clangor of gongs. Floodlights, connected with the circuit, blazed through the misty dark. A beam struck “X” full in the face as he settled to the ground. Somewhere, close at hand, a shadowy form moved. “X” kicked out with all his strength in an effort to send the balloon once more climbing into the sky. But at that moment, strong arms locked about his legs. He made an effort to release the mayor. But before he could do this, a horde of men poured from the bushes and threw themselves upon him. And gleaming in the beam of a floodlight, “X” saw the golden veil of the Ghoul himself.
Chapter XII
HOPELESSLY outnumbered, Secret Agent “X” resorted to strategy as the only way out. There was much to explain that seemed inexplicable if he was to clear himself in the eyes of the Ghoul. He stopped struggling and shouted: “Master, what is the meaning of this? Is this my reward for carrying out your orders?”
“Let him up,” the Ghoul ordered, “but keep him covered with your guns.”
The weight of many men lifted the form of Agent “X”. He was permitted to stand up, but so closely was he hemmed in by a ring of threatening automatics that he could not hope to escape. With his own hands, the Ghoul cut the mayor free from the jumping-balloon. Then a man stepped forward at an order from the veiled fiend and linked “X’s” left wrist to his own by means of handcuffs.
But “X’s” right hand was free to press the switch in his coat pocket. Instantly, he had the nauseating sensation of feeling his right eye twist sharply to the right as the artificial stimulus was applied.
“Now,” said the Ghoul, sternly, “you will tell me, China Bobby, why you acted in this way. My plans were perfect The state police were entirely at the mercy of our machine guns. But Raymonds, who accompanied you and Yu’an tells me that you cut the ballast bags and leaped over the wall with Yu’an.”
There had been a witness to “X’s” action and there was no use denying what he had done. “Perfectly true, master,” the Agent replied, “and I admit that I was partially at fault. Yu’an had planned to cheat you. He confided as much to me. In fact, I was admitted into a plan by which Yu’an and I were to kidnap the mayor and share the ransom we obtained. But at the last moment, I could not double-cross you.”