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The Spike or Victoria College Review October 1929

"Our Secret Passages Still Lead the Way! Convenient Crimes, Ltd."

"Our Secret Passages Still Lead the Way! Convenient Crimes, Ltd."

The mysterious couple found themselves traversing a dank underground tunnel into which the light of day could never have entered. Vines of edible mushrooms trailed over the walls. An occasional stalactite would drop from the roof and hurriedly scuttle away from them. Glow-worms hissed at them from dark corners. Now and again the roots of some busy plant would thrust down at them, dislodging fragments of earth.

The pair at length found their way barred by a blank wall. After listening for a moment, the He-She pressed his-her finger on what appeared to be a bell-push. An opening appeared before them. They stepped through into a large room.

Neatly arranged upon the floor of the room lay twenty-six corpses!

A table stood in the middle. On the table rested a decapitated human head and an eyeball that glowed with a strange, uncanny light.

Admiration shone in the eyes of the thin man as he started towards the table. An abrupt gesture from his she-companion made him pause. He turned to him-her.

"Listen," whispered the he-female.

A murmur of voices came through the wall opposite to that through which they had entered.

The lady man appeared to make a rapid mental calculation; then she (he) darted to a portion of the wall at some distance from the part through which the voices came and again pressed a button. A door swung open and revealed a balcony bathed in daylight.

The Him-she emerged on the balcony, leaving her-his companion behind. She-he moved quietly to a window nearby and peered through.

A room. Two men staring at her (him). A sudden cry.

"The Mucker!" came to her (his or its) ears.

"Bogginson!" came with a snarl.

Benzoline, Bogginson. He. She. It. Her or Him. or however the mysterious creature knew himself or herself (as the case might be), opened the window and jumped lightly over the sill into the office in Police Headquarters of High Chief Commissioner the Honourable Citron Peale.

A revolver which appeared to be about the size of a house looked him-her-it in the eye. Behind it. smiling in a dreadfully sinister fashion, was the face of D.D.D.S. Urban Drift!