THE SPIDER STRIKES

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The Spider Strikes 

By R.T.M. Scott 

This page formatted 2004 Blackmask Online.

http://www.blackmask.com

CHAPTER ONE The Man Who Sought to Die  

CHAPTER TWO Seal of the Spider  

CHAPTER THREE The Body on the Floor  

CHAPTER FOUR Spider Bait  

CHAPTER FIVE The Cigarette Lighter  

CHAPTER SIX Another Who Wished to Die  

CHAPTER SEVEN The Man in the Mask  

CHAPTER EIGHT The Molly Ann  

CHAPTER NINE Into the Night  

CHAPTER TEN A Tryst With Death  

CHAPTER ELEVEN The Man in the Mask  

CHAPTER TWELVE Wentworth Tastes Fear  

CHAPTER THIRTEEN Sparks Reports  

CHAPTER FOURTEEN The Dark House  

CHAPTER FIFTEEN The Spider Fights Death  

CHAPTER SIXTEEN A Life In the Balance  

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Sparks' Last Story  

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN The Doctor Returns  

CHAPTER NINETEEN The Spider Strikes  

CHAPTER TWENTY Under Sentence of Death  

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE The Spider Amuck!

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Originally published in the October, 1933 issue of The Spider

A complete replica edition of this work, including the original illustrations, is published by Girasol Collectibles and available through Vintage Library.

CHAPTER ONE The Man Who Sought to Die  

"I believe that the Spider is on this ship," remarked a pompous little man, waving a bundle of newspaper clippings.

In the smoke-room of the trans-Atlantic liner conversation lowered at mention of the mysterious New York criminal who sealed his deeds with the tiny design of a particularly hideous spider.

"And what makes you think that the Spider is on board?" somebody asked.

"These newspaper clippings," the little man exclaimed importantly. "A great criminal likes to keep a record of his crimes. I tell you that we might be murdered in our beds any night."

"Where did you find the clippings?" somebody else asked.

"Under a deck chair."

A young woman tittered as she raised her third before-dinner cocktail. "You shouldn't go poking under deck chairs," she remarked. "You might find things."

There were some smiles, but most faces were serious. The presence of the Spider was a most uncomfortable thought.

Richard Wentworth raised his well-built, lithe form from a chair and held out his hand. "The clippings are mine," he said quietly.

"And-and may I ask why you are so interested in the Spider?" the little man demanded, trying to maintain his importance amid his surprise.

"That is a little matter between the Spider and myself," explained Wentworth unconcernedly as he took the newspaper clippings and passed out to the deck for a constitutional before dressing for dinner. . .

Two days from New York on the great ocean liner, surrounded by all the comforts and luxury which human ingenuity could devise, a man stood aft on the promenade deck where the glass partition ended. He leaned against the railing and gazed blankly down at the angry swirling waters.

Darkness was falling, and the passengers had left the deck rather deserted. There was a touch of melancholy in the absence of laughter and conversation, in the departing daylight and in the droop of the man's shoulders as he leaned a little dangerously over the railing.

Circling the deck for the last time, Richard Wentworth came to a sudden halt as he rounded a corner and caught sight of the passenger who stood by the railing. Tall and strongly built, Wentworth's athletic stride ended with such abruptness as to indicate a man whose mind and body worked in perfect unison. Quite motionless, he stood and watched the man at the railing as though he read a message in the drooping shoulders- a message which might have to be answered very quickly.

The man at the railing leaned farther over the sea. He knew nothing of the one who watched him, and only a numbing anticipation of cold waters dwelt in his mind. He did not even feel the pressure of the palms of his hands upon the railing as he raised himself from the deck.

At that last critical second the silent watcher moved with lightning speed across the intervening deck. He grasped the would be suicide by the collar and jerked him roughly back upon his feet. There was no witness to the rescue.

Ram Singh, Richard Wentworth's Hindu servant, inserted a tiny cornflower in the lapel of his absent master's dinner coat. He performed the small act with a reverence which would almost indicate a ritual. The florist of every ocean liner carried a supply of these blue flowers when Wentworth crossed.