Harold Ward

Summary

Harold Ward The Man in the Black Mask (1921)

Beside me lay Grimes, breathing heavily. Innis and Slocum were huddled together across the room, the latter bleeding from a small cut on the forehead. In one corner Burke, the man I had marked as a coward, was sitting up sobbing crooningly to himself,—the victim of hysteria, evidently. The other members of the board sprawled here and there in various attitudes. Backus raised himself to one elbow and gazed about stupidly.
The door was burst open with a crash and the room filled with rescuers—factory workmen, their black, smudgy faces expressing their wonderment.
Source: Wikisource

Harold Ward The Man in the Black Mask (1921)

As I turned the corner and entered the main cavern, I met Jenkins. The big negro's face was ashen. He was trembling like a man with the ague.
"They found him!" he exclaimed. "Lordy! Lordy! He's awful! The big boss am certainly g'wine to raise the debbil!"
"Where did they find him?" I asked.
"In the main cavern, deader'n a herring—all chopped to pieces!" And still wailing, he hurried back to the pots and pans of his kitchen.
As I approached the little group under the electric light, "The Man in the Black Mask" looked up at me.
"Bad work, here, Larson, bad work!" he exclaimed.
Source: Wikisource

Harold Ward The Man in the Black Mask (1921)

As he turned, I heard a faint tinkle, and a small object fell to the floor of the cave, unobserved. I waited until I could no longer hear his footfalls on the sandy floor, then I sprang to my feet and picked it up.
It was a hairpin!
There was no longer any doubt in my mind as to the identity of "The Man in the Black Mask." The hairpin was conclusive evidence that it was Joan Marne. I hated to believe it, but the facts were indisputable.
I have never considered myself a woman-hater nor a susceptible ladies' man.
Source: Wikisource

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