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Show "No' sir' n the sand was out." tij, ! "Had it been in the Watf, it wet?" ater'W, (Continued on Page 5) where he had found the black sombrero the very spot, right on the sand beside this very piling. "Was it in the water, Felipe?" inquired Rogers. tby CLIFFORD KNIGHT .Y J black sombrero," I said, "but it's not here." "Won't another do just as well?" suggested Reed Barton. He and I went out to the rack near the door. There were several hats there; none as large, however, as Rumble's huge black one. We settled set-tled upon one of straw. The head size was small, so that it perched on top of Rogers' rather large head as he began a slow, measured meas-ured stride down the dim passageway passage-way to the door of the room while Pedro from his station and the rest of us at vantage points looked on. Rogers opened the door and disappeared within the room. A moment later he emerged to learn the verdict which Pedro was quick to pronounce. "No, sir, he is not the one," he said, his teeth chattering. "Who's next?" inquired Rogers, extending the hat and quirt toward tow-ard mp "Rnrru vnn nlav rnlo livingroom. No one had spoken in' the passageway after Pedro had made his accusation. "What's happened?" Elsa demanded de-manded of me. "The pulque man has accused Dwight of killing Chesebro," I said. A curious light flashed in Elsa's level gray eyes. Sh appeared not to have understood me. I repeated repeat-ed my statement. Dwight removed the sombrero and dropped it into a chair, the quirt he tossed upon the table. "The man is simply mistaken, Senor Lombardo," Dwight said, his voice remaining calm despite the strain he obviously was under. "I can understand how I might be thought to be the man you're seeking. seek-ing. It was like this: The night Chesebro was murdered we were all here in this room. We had been intent upon what Dwight was say- said. "If Rumble is in town he'll be loafing on the streets or in the bars. It shouldn't be hard to find him in Mazatlan." We went once more into the hotel ho-tel and not finding him, came out again. We walked to the plaza and around it. The evening throng was beginning to thin out. Nowhere was there any sight of the huge black sombrero or the gaudy suit '. he wore. "He can be around, Hunt," I said, "and still elude us. Mazatlan is a fair-sized little city; there must be many places of concealment conceal-ment " "Why should he be in hiding?" Rogers demanded. "I don't mean that he intentionally intention-ally is avoiding us." "Yes, I know how you meant it, but he should be hunting us, Barry, Bar-ry, instead. That was a broad in- i.! . 1 . flint Vm bnflw CHAPTER XV "I'm sorry, Senor Lombardo," said Dwight in English. "We are late for the reason that we have searched in vain for George Rumble." Rum-ble." "Where could he have got to,?" I asked. Dwight made a gestrue, indicating indicat-ing that he did not know. r ic is due going north tomorrow." i "He won't be hard to find," I suggested. "He's probably moved to another hotel." "We inquired at a couple of other oth-er hotels," Reed responded. For a moment nobody said anything. any-thing. Then Rogers . turned to Lombardo. "This will interfere somewhat "He cnecKea out of the hotel last night about 10:30 o'clock." My own thoughts instantly were filled with speculations. I glanced at Rogers, but beyond a narrowing of his eyelids there was no sign of what he thought. "Perhaps he's gone back home," I suggested. "He was fed up last night, you know, when we saw him at the Belmar, and was wishing wish-ing he might leave Mazatlan." "There's been no train since he checked out," remarked Reed Barton. Bar-ton. "El Costeno on the Sud Paclf. with your plans this evening, Senor. Sen-or. But perhaps we can go ahead wifh those of us who are here. I'm ready to be the first to put on the hat and walk to the room where Chesebro died." There was a stir among us and we prepared- to take up where we had left off the night Pedro fled. "Where's the quirt?" inquired Rogers. "Here," I said, picking it up from the table where it still lay beside Elsa's hat. I gave it to Rogers. Rog-ers. "And now we need Rumble'0 j , next." I took the hat gingerly and set it on top my head, although it was a better fit for me than it had been for Rogers. I grasped the quirt firmly and with a slight sensation sen-sation of cold playing down my backbone I began to walk along the passageway. Slowly it seemed hours I had walked along; I could hear the breathing of Lombardo as he looked look-ed on in silence while I passed him. I was keenly aware as my fingers touched the doorknob that Rogers and I were agreed that the solution we sought lay without question in the identification that Pedro would make; he had seen the murderer. No one spoke for several moments. mo-ments. Reed Barton cleared his throat. Pedro shifted his bare feet. "Pedro!" exclaimed Lombardo, "speak!" My heart sank at the sound of the jefe's voice. "He is not, the man, sir," said Pedro in a voice that was little more than a whisper. "You are sure?" "Yes, sir." With an audible sigh I removed the hat and handed it, together with the quirt to Dwight Nichols. "You're next, Dwight, old man," I said lightly, although my voice snnnrtM Ktminprl nnrl UTirtntlirnl in iiciu a aisier in uauiorma. iroies-sor iroies-sor Rogers had been conducting a sort of investigation into it." Lombardo's eyebrows lifted, eloquently, elo-quently, and he glanced at Rogers and then at Doctor Cruz who were licked his dry lips and tugged at ing. "When the gathering broke up to go outside and look on at the dances which were the evening's entertainent, I was, I'm sure, the last to leave this room. The quirt there" he indicated the whip on the table "interested me. I stopped stop-ped to. examine the carved knob. Someone entered the room at the far end there." He nooded in that direction. "It was a man somebody some-body dressed in white, like this man. A servant, I thought; I paid no attention to him. I put the whip down and went out into the hall, thinking to go out by the front door. The rack there with its many hats attracted me." Dwight paused in his recital, he licked his dry lips and tugged at his collar, which seemed tight about his neck. He went on: "It's curious the little mental quirks we get. Ever since I first saw Rumble wearing that black felt hat Ive had a curiosity to put it on. A woman could understand that impulse, I suppose. And so I lifted the thing off the rack and SlilUailUil lie llictuc uiat, in- something of interest to me in the death of Kitty Chatfield. If he meant it, this is the time for him to talk; so why isn't he trying to find us to tell what he knows?" I had no answer for that. Indeed the more we talked the more hope, lessly involved we seemed to become be-come Perhaps while we slept our unconscious monitors could sort over the many conflicting factors. I remarked as much to Rogers. "Sleep not only 'knits up the ravelled sleeve of care' but also straightens out many things. It's a fact," he commented. "Suppose we see if the launch still waits for us down at the wharf." We set out to walk the comparatively compar-atively short distance down the narrow twisting streets. Roger's hand was suddenly flung out to stop me. Two figures were idling under a street light a short distance from the end of the wharf; the rays of the light shone down upon a battered guitar which brown fingers were idly strumming. strum-ming. "Our two mariachis," I said. They observed our approach and called out to us: "Buenas noches, senores." Rogers returned their greeting. It was not until then that I realizd what had drawn his attention so forcibly to them. We walked up to them and halted. Rogers pointed to the sombrero which Felipe, the larger of the two, was wearing. "Que es esto?" he asked. "Es un sombrero, senor," was the reply. "Yes, I know," Rogers continued in Spanish, "but whose hat is it?" "It is the hat of the gentleman who wears the fine clothes, senor," was the astonishing reply. "That's what I thought," said , Rogers. "How do you happen to be wearing it tonight?" "I found it, senor." "Found it?" "Oh, yes, senor. Come. I will' show you the very spot where I found it this morning." Wonderingly we fell in behind the two boys who plnnged into a dark passageway which, as we walked, I discovered was leading us to the water's edge underneath the wharf. We were stumbling along in the gloom when Rogers took out a tiny pocket flashlight to guide our feet. "What is that?" asked Pancho, the smaller, when the light cast its feeble rays into the darkness. "A flashlight, Pancho," replied Rogers. A few steps farther down and we came out upon the damp sand Here Felipe asserted was the spot I ' I my own ears. He took them hesi-l hesi-l tantly, but before he could put on the hat, Margaret appeared at the end of the passageway. She halted abruptly at sight of us. "Whatever are you doing?" she called. "Oh " Her voice betrayed that she understood and she moved slowly in our direction. "It's now Dwight's turn, is it?" "Yes, dear," Dwight replied so. berly, putting on the hat. The same hush descended upon us. There was the same suppressed suppress-ed breathing as Dwight moved slowly and deliberately past the place where Pedro crouched in his concealment and on down toward the door. Slowly he drew near the door; his hand was stretched out to touch the knob. There was a sudden sud-den movement in Pedro's place of concealment. Lombardo was" alert to it instantly; he made as if to J leap upon the man, then he said sharply in Spanish, "What is it, Pedro?" The sound of the jefe's voice startled Dwight. He turned about at the doorway and stood in an attitude of inquiry. "Senor " said Pedro hesitantly. "What is it, Pedro ?" demandedd Lombardo sharply. "He is the man, sir." "This is the man you saw, Pedro?" Ped-ro?" Margaret's fingrs dug convulsively convul-sively into the flesh of my arm; she caught her breather sharply. "Yes, sir, he is the one," said Pedro. Elsa joined us as we entered the LI1CU 1L Kill. J.U WfclS II1UUII llgllLCI than I thought for. I took it off after a moment and put it back on the rack. "Now, then," he summed up, "I saw somebody who could easily have been this man, Pedro, while I was examining the quirt in the livingroom. Whether or not he followed fol-lowed me to the livingroom door where he could have seen me trying try-ing on Rumble's hat, I don't know. I believe that he did. So it is easy to see how the man could have been misled. He is mistaken in his identity." iden-tity." "Pedro, you made a mistake," Lombardo said in Spanish, turning belligerently upon the uunhappy pulque seller. "No, sir, he is the man " "We go now," said Lombardo. "My humble apologis, senoras and senores." We heard the motor roar into life and the car roll away on the graveled drive before we relaxed. Dwight stood with one arm around Margaret's waist. She looked up at him. "Darling, I was frightened for a few minutes." "So was I," Dwight said frankly. frank-ly. Later on that evening Rogers and I stood on the street of the High Waves near the Belmar hotel. ho-tel. Reed Barton had stayed behind be-hind at the rancho to talk with Elsa. The others had come down town. Margaret and Dwight went out to the yacht saying that the launch would be at the wharf for us whenever we wanted it. "Let's look about a bit," Rogers I Black ' Sombrero 1 m By Clifford Knight WNU Feature.. I ,.( Continued from Page 4) ! "Yes sir; I think it had floated on the water and been left by the tide on the sand." ! "H-m-m!" Rogers' voice was tense. "I should like to have the sombrero, Felipe, to take with me." I "Yes, sir," the boy took it off j and gave it to Rogers. "I'll give you something." He fumbled in his pocket. 1 I want nothing, sir; it is not I my hat. It is the hat of your friend who wears the fine clothes. I could not find him today to give it back to him." . We walked Back up to the end of the wharf where we parted with the pair. Rogers still fumbled in his pocket. Suddenly he held out the little flashlight. "Let me give you this," he said, "for taking care of the hat." With an exchange of buenas no-ches no-ches we separated and we walked out 'upon the deserted wharf to the landing where the launch was waiting for us. launch. Arturo, loafing in the We went silently down to the seats, sprang up to help us. "Are we the last ones to go on board tonight, Arturo?" Rogers inquired wtih an effort at cheerfulness. cheer-fulness. "Yes, sir all are abroad now, except ex-cept you two gentlemen. Mr. Nichols Nich-ols say wait for you, and I wait." After some moments he stirred the engine into life and then cast off. We moved slowly at first close alongside the wharf, pulling away only a little from the darker shadows. shad-ows. As we left the wharf's black edge and emerged into the area Illumined Il-lumined somewhat by the lights on the wharf above us, the launch struck something in the water and careened slightly. "What was that?" Rogers de. manded. "It is perhaps a log, sir," replied re-plied Arturo nonchalantly. "I hope it is not an alligator, the same being plentiful not far from here." "It didn't feel like a log to me," Rogers retorted, peering over the side into the gloom. Something in his manner filled me with apprehension. appre-hension. He held up a shadowy hand to the pilot. "Stop, Arturo; I want to see what that was." The launch began to lose headway head-way and soon we drifted. "We'll have to back up a few feet." The screw reversed and we began to move slowly backward. (To Be Continued) |
