But Waddell’s aim was bad. He missed.
Before the millionaire could try another shot, his enemy fired directly at Waddell. The man dropped his gun. His body slumped.
THE sound of the first shot had penetrated to Betty’s stateroom. Her attention aroused by the first struggle, she was at the door and stepping through as her father sank to the floor.
She was fully dressed, prepared for her early-morning promenade. With an exclamation of horror on her lips, she instinctively closed the door behind her.
Solinski paused, training the revolver upon Betty Waddell. But he hesitated, for the girl’s bravery awed him. It was Baldridge, wild and snarling, who spoke first.
“Get away from that door!” he ordered. “Get away! We are going to enter.”
The man was upon the point of firing, when Solinski leaped forward and gripped the girl with his free hand. He tried to drag her away from the door.
Betty, with wild determination, fought back. Solinski flung her to the floor. Before she could rise from her knees, Baldridge gripped her shoulders.
Solinski paused with his hand upon the knob of the inner room. With cruel eyes he watched his companion fighting to hold the struggling girl. Coolly, Solinski aimed his revolver directly at the girl’s breast.
A shot rang out from the outer door. Solinski’s arm fell. His grip upon the doorknob loosened. He swayed and slumped to the floor. Baldridge, staring in the direction of the shot, saw a weird figure in black.