by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER XVIII THE RETURN OF PANTHER EYE
After accompanying the police boat to the island and having watched insilence the investigation made by the police, which was followed by ashort search for the man who had visited the island with such tragicresults, Johnny returned at once to the city and there made straighttoward the river bridge.
Imagine his surprise when, upon setting foot on the bridge, he discoveredlight shining through the crack left by the closed shutters of hiswindow.
"Waiting for me," he muttered. "Wonder which of them it is? Well, letthem wait," he added fiercely, "I'm not so defenseless as I might seem."He put a hand to his side pocket. A friendly policeman, finding Johnnyunarmed as they searched the island, had pressed a small automatic uponhim and had forgotten to take it back. Johnny was now thankful for theoversight.
Without a second's hesitation, but keeping a sharp lookout that he mightnot be ambushed by some guard stationed outside, he crossed the bridge,dodged down a narrow alley and having reached the ground floor door thatled to the back stairs, paused to listen.
Having heard no sound, he pushed open the door, closed it noiselesslybehind him, then went tip-toeing softly up the steps. At the secondlanding he paused to listen, yet he heard no sound.
"That's queer," he whispered as he resumed his upward climb.
As he reached his own door he recalled an old copy-book axiom: "Delaysare dangerous." So, gripping his automatic with one hand, he turned theknob with the other and threw the door wide open.
Imagine his surprise at seeing a single figure slumped down in a chair,apparently fast asleep.
The person had his back to him. There was something vaguely familiarabout that back. Slowly a smile of pleasant anticipation spread overJohnny's face.
"If it only were," he whispered.
Tip-toeing to a position which gave him a side view of the stillmotionless figure, he stared for a second, then there came upon his facean unmistakable smile as he exclaimed:
"Pant! You old trump you!"
It was indeed Pant, the Panther Eye you have known for some time, thatstrange boy who had accomplished so many seemingly impossible thingsthrough his power to see in the night and to perform other magicaltricks.
"Why, it's you!" said Pant, waking up and dragging off his heavy glassesto have a good look at Johnny. "I figured you'd be back sooner or later."
"Pant," said Johnny, lowering himself unsteadily into a chair, "there wasnever a time in all my checkered career when I was so glad to see you."
"You must be in pretty deep," grinned Pant, "'powerful deep,' they'd sayin the mountains."
"But Pant, what happened?" asked Johnny. "How does it come you left themountains so soon?"
Pant put on a sad face. "Those mountain people are superstitious, Johnny,terribly superstitious."
"Are they?"
"Are they? Why look, Johnny, we were having a school election down there,regular kind. Everybody wanted his sister or his cousin or his daughterin as teacher. We were about evenly divided and were fighting it out fairenough with the great American institution, the ballot, when an argumentcame up in which Harrison Crider, their clerk of election, knocked CalNolon out of his chair. Right there is where things began to start. Therewere fifteen or twenty on a side, all armed and all packed in one roomtwenty feet square. You can see what it was going to be like, Johnny."Pant paused to go through the motion of mopping his brow.
"They were all standing there loaded and charged, like bits of steel onthe end of a magnet, when a strange thing happened." He paused to stareat the wall.
"What happened?" asked Johnny.
"Well, sir, it was one of those queer things, 'plumb quare,' they'd callit down in the mountains, one of those things you can't explain--at leastmost people can't."
"But what did happen?" Johnny demanded.
"That's what I'm coming to," drawled Pant. "Well, sir, believe me or not,there came such a brilliant flash of light as was never before seen onsea or land (at least that's what they all say. I didn't see it; had myeyes shut tight all the time). And after that, so they say, there wasdarkness, a darkness so black you couldn't see your hand. 'Egyptiandarkness,' that's what they called it, Johnny. You've heard of that. Ittells about it in the Bible, the plague of darkness.
"It only lasted three minutes; but would you believe it, Johnny, when thethree minutes were up there wasn't a bit of fight left in them? No sir,limp as rags, every man of 'em. And the election after that was as calmand sedate as a Quaker sewing society.
"But, Johnny," Pant's face took on a sad expression, "would you believeit? After it was all over those superstitious people accused me of thewhole affair; said I was a witch and that I produced that darkness byincantation. Now Johnny, I leave it to you, was that fair? Would youthink that of me?"
"No, Pant," said Johnny with a grin, "I wouldn't. I know you're no witch,and I know any incantation you might indulge in wouldn't get you a thing.But as for creating that darkness, I'd say it was a slight trick comparedwith others I've seen you do."
"Ah, Johnny," sighed Pant, "I can see the whole world's against me."
"But Johnny!" he exclaimed, changing suddenly from his attitude of mockgloom to one of alert interest, "what's the lay? To tell the honesttruth, I've been bored to death down there. I knew if I could find youI'd be able to mix in with something active. So here I am. What have youto offer?"
"Plenty!" said Johnny. "And, thank God, you're here to take a hand."
