Motor Matt's Daring Rescue; or, The Strange Case of Helen Brady

by Stanley R. Matthews

To get a policeman might have been the best plan, but Matt was none too sure of his ground, inclined though he was to put implicit faith in Brady's information.

"I'll get in, if I can, and look around," he finally concluded. "The Hooligans might have a case against me for house-breaking, but I'll take a chance. Besides, if what Brady says is true, we've got a bigger case against the Hooligans than they can possibly get against me."

Softly he tried the front door. As he had imagined, it was locked. Then he tried the kitchen door, but with no better result. After that he passed completely around the building endeavoring to raise one of the windows. The windows, like the doors, were secured. This seemed strange, inasmuch as it was a warm night and just the time windows should be open to admit the air.

With his pocket knife Matt succeeded in pushing aside the fastening between the upper and lower sash of a window at the side of the house. He listened for a moment to see if his work had been detected by anyone in the building. Hearing nothing to arouse his apprehension, he pushed up the window and climbed into the dark room beyond.

Silence reigned all around him. Taking a match from his pocket, he struck it and surveyed the room.

It was a bedroom. The bed was not disturbed, although the coverlet and pillow bore the imprint of a human form, as though some one had lain down on it for a few minutes' rest.

From a nail in the wall hung an article which at once attracted Matt's attention. It was a small gray shawl, and he at once recalled it as a shawl which he had seen Helen Brady wear.

Here was fresh proof that Hector Brady had told the truth. Undoubtedly the girl had been in that house, and that that was the room set aside for her use. But where was she?

Softly Matt opened a door and stepped through into the kitchen. There was a pile of dirty dishes on a table, and other evidences that the kitchen had been recently used. But there was no one there, and no sounds came to Matt to tell him that there was anyone, apart from himself, in the house. An open door admitted him into what was undoubtedly the main living room. There was some disorder apparent, as though those who had been in the house had left hastily.

A heavy disappointment ran through the young motorist. Helen Brady had been there, but she had been taken away! He was too late.