There was no love in Killer Durgan’s nature. It was desire for possession that had ruled his actions toward Madge. He was stunned by what had happened; but only momentarily. Evil venom followed.
Cliff Marsland must die!
Arline Griscom realized Killer Durgan’s intention. She had been horrified at the sight of death; now, her love for Cliff spurred her to desperation.
She flung herself upon the brutal murderer and battled tooth and nail, while Cliff tried vainly to rise.
With a mighty effort, Durgan flung the struggling girl against the wall. Before she could regain her feet, she saw his arm turn toward the corner where Cliff lay.
Two shots roared. Arline screamed. Then she stared, bewildered.
Killer Durgan was collapsing! His body sagged, like a figure in a slow-motion picture. He toppled forward, his gun falling to the floor. He lay face downward, an inert mass.
THEN Arline realized whence the shots had come. The outer door of the room had opened. There stood a man in black, a strange weird figure, garbed in a flowing cloak.
The folds of the garments revealed a crimson lining — the only spot of color in the man’s attire. For on his head, he wore a black, broad-brimmed hat that covered his features. He held an automatic in his black-gloved hand.
It was he who had fired. His bullets had ended the murderous career of Killer Durgan, cheating the notorious slayer of a final victim!