Free In the Grip of the Griffin: The Complete Battles of Gordon Manning & The Griffin, Volume 3 by J. Allan Dunn Page A

might have changed his methods.
    It was significant of Thorpe that he took it calmly, filling and lighting his pipe with steady fingers. He wondered if Manning knew of this. If so, why had he not communicated with him? There was no telephone at Nitamo Lodge. They purposely cut themselves off from the world. The nearest instrument was at the small railroad depot, whence telegrams were sometimes brought, thence despatched, in emergency.
    He resolved to try and get in touch with Gordon Manning. He knew him personally. Manning had once been the governor’s guest at the Lodge. He could be so again, if he would. But there was no date set, only the scarlet lozenge with the imprint of the ravening beast upon it….
    A knock came at the door. The manager’s son appeared.
    “I beg pardon, Governor. You and Mr. Bostick have drawn the Maple Pool. It should be good, ’round sunset. I’ve seen some good ’uns rising there.”
    “Fine, Tom!” said the governor. “But I’m afraid he’ll wipe my eye.”
    “He can fish—but so can you,” said the other. “Mail just got in. Dad brought it. One for you, sir.”
    Thorpe surveyed it dubiously after the man had left. No one should write him here. Only intimates knew where he was. His secretary had orders—but this was addressed plainly to him, at Nitamo Lodge.
    He did not know the bold handwriting, purple ink on a thick, gray, handwoven paper. He turned the envelope over. On the flap the sinister symbol was repeated, sealed in red wax. It was from the Griffin.
    A brief note. The note of a man whose mind was warped, perverted by dementia grandiosa, but infinitely crafty, infinitely evil.
The stars decree your downfall. You deem yourself destined to rule a Nation but your House of Nativity proclaims your presumption shall be taught a lasting lesson. You, who think yourself a leader among men, shall be dust. The same immutable horoscope proclaims me as the Divine Agent who shall announce in your elimination that all men are grass when, in its next verdure, it shall be nurtured from your dust.
Know then that on the Ninth of May, wherever you may be, however you may strive to avert the inevitable; you die.
    There was no signature, only a well-penned drawing of the same device, the upper body of a griffin, rampant.
    Thorpe read it without flinching. He knew how often the Griffin had succeeded. If it had to be, he would take it in the open; but reflection persuaded him that this wilderness place might be safer than many others, with due precautions.
    He was not minded to forego his holiday. For one thing, he needed it. He had not stopped working for the public weal because he was no longer governor, nor because he might be nominated for president. He was a widower, and childless, who had simply and utterly devoted his life towards the betterment of his fellowman and the firm establishment of his country. He was not afraid of death but he enjoyed life, as he employed it.
    The Maple Pool would not be ready to fish until about four o’clock. He had his own car, driving it himself. If the Griffin ran true to his satanic form, Thorpe had three days of leeway. The Griffin probably got unhallowed satisfaction over the thought that his prospective victim would cower through the hours before his predicted execution. Thorpe was not that sort.
    He drove to the depot and waited for the always protracted connections between that outland place and New York City. He tried Manning’s office, where he plied his profession as consulting attorney, he tried his house and his clubs, only to find that Manning was out of town on a mission he had kept private, but would return by the next morning.
    Thorpe got the Commissioner of Police, personally, told him briefly what had happened, read also the letter.
    “The ninth, you say?” answered the commissioner. “I’ll get in touch with Manning the moment he returns. I may be able to locate him to-night, this afternoon. I think you’re safe in the meanwhile,