he director's entire face in, like the
shattered shell of a broken egg.

* * * * *

Gordon charged on through the outer door just as a heavy sedan came
careening out of the parking lot. He had a flashing glimpse of Leah
and the stranger in the front seat of the big car.

Gordon raced for his own machine, a powerful low-slung roadster. A
single vicious jab at the starting button, and the big motor leaped
into roaring life. Gordon shot out from the parking lot onto the main
boulevard. A hundred yards away the sedan was fleeing toward
Hollywood.

Gordon tramped hard on the accelerator. His engine snarled with the
unleashed fury of a hundred horsepower. The gap between the two cars
swiftly lessened.

Then the stranger seemed to become aware for the first time that he
was being followed. The next second the big sedan accelerated with the
hurtling speed of a flying bullet. Gordon sent his own foot nearly to
the floor. The roadster jumped to eighty miles an hour, yet the sedan
continued to leave it remorselessly behind.

The two cars started up the northern slope of Cahuenga Pass with the
sedan nearly two hundred yards ahead, and gaining all the time. Gordon
wondered briefly if they were to flash down the other side of the Pass
and on into Hollywood at their present mad speed.

Then at the summit of the Pass the sedan swerved abruptly to the right
and fled west along the Mulholland Highway. Gordon's tires screamed as
he swerved the roadster in hot pursuit.

* * * * *

The dark winding mountain highway was nearly deserted at that hour of
the night. Save for an occasional automobile that swerved frantically
to the side of the road to dodge the roaring onslaught of the racing
cars, Gordon and the stranger had the road to themselves.

The stranger seemed no longer to be trying to leave his pursuer
hopelessly behind. He allowed Gordon to come within a hundred yards of
him. But that was as near as Gordon could get, is spite of the
roadster's best efforts.

Half a dozen times Gordon trod savagely upon his accelerator in a
desperate attempt to close the gap, but each time the sedan fled with
the swift grace of a scudding phantom. Finally Gordon had to content
himself with merely keeping his distance behind the glowing red
tail-light of the car ahead.

They passed Laurel Canyon, and still the big sedan bored on to the
west. Then finally, half a dozen miles be