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Show were mainly silent. BIy thoughts would slip ahead to that hour, later In the evening, when I should see Alison again. I dressed in savage haste finally and was so particular abcut my tie that Mrs. Klopton gave up in despair. "I wish, until your arm is better, that you would buy the kind thai hooks on." she protested, almost tearfully. tear-fully. "I'm sure they look very nice, .Mr. Lawrence. My late husband always al-ways " "That's a lover's knot you've tied this time.' I snarled, and, jerking open the bow knot she had so painfully ex- Mi mart mmirmmim l i hi ;jj ? Krrot op TJ'lE CIRCULAR J'XURCAXB I V COPYRIGHV l?oy tV BOBBS -MERRILL COMPWy i w c?r- ' : . ecuted, looked out of the window for Johnson until I recalled that he no longer belonged in my perspective. I ended by driving frantically to the club and getting George to do it. I was late, of course. The drawing room and library at the Dallas country coun-try home was very empty. I could hear billiard balls rolling somewhere and I turned the other way. I found Alison Ali-son at last on the balcony, sitting much as she had that night on the beach her chin in her hands, her eyes fixed unseeingly on the trees and lights of the square across. She was even whistling a little, softly. But this time the plaintiveness was gone. It was a tender little tune. She did not move, as I stood beside her, looking look-ing down. And now, when the moment mo-ment had come, all the thousand and one things I had been waiting to say-forsook say-forsook me, precipitately beat a retreat re-treat and left me unsupported. The arc-moon sent little fugitive lights over her hair, her eyes, her gown. "Don't do that," I said unsteadily "You you know what I want to do when you whistle!" She glanced up at me and she did not stop. She did not stop! She went on whistling softly, a bit tremu-. lously. And straightway I forgot the street, the chance of passers-by, the "Where did you find that chain?" Sullivan asked, hoarsely, looking for the first time at Alison. "On the floor, near the murdered man's berth." "Now, Mr. Sullivan," said the detective, detec-tive, civilly, "I believe you can tell us, in the light of these two exhibits, who really did murder Simon Harrington." Sullivan looked again at the dagger, a sharp little bit of steel with a Florentine Flor-entine handle. Then he picked up the locket and pressed a hidden spring under one of the cameos. Inside, very neatly engraved, was the name and a date. "Gentlemen," he said, his face ghastly, ghast-ly, "it is of no use for me to attempt a denial. The dagger and necklace belonged be-longed to my sister, Alice Curtis!" CHAPTER XXXI. And Only One Arm. Hotchkiss was the first to break the tension. "Mr. Sullivan," he asked suddenly, "was your sister left-handed?" "Yes." Hotchkiss put away his notebook and looked around with an air of triumphant tri-umphant vindication. It gave us a chance to smile and look relieved. Mi yfir " - "I Understand Now What Puzzled Me Then." Go.1 SYNOPSIS. 4 f T.awrenco Ttlakoloy, lawyor, pocs to tf 3 'It IhIjuik with the towd nolf.s In tin- ItronHon phhi; to K't I he dt-posi t ion of John Gilmore, millionaire. A lady re-fjucsts re-fjucsts Jilnkeh.-y to huy her a Pullman tieket. Me ivefl her lower 11 and retains re-tains lower 10. He linds a drunken man in lower 10 and retires in lower It. He awakens In lower 7 and tlnd.s his elothes and bag rnissinpr. The man In lower 10 Is found murdered. Cir-ouniHlantial Cir-ouniHlantial evidence points to both ilakeley and the man who stole his lollies. Tiie train is wrecked and lilake-ley lilake-ley Is rescued from a burning car by a Kirl in blue. His arm is broken. The. irl proves to be Alison West, his partner's sweetheart. Blakeley returns home and tlnds he is under surveillance. Movins pictures of the train taken just before the wreck reveal to Blakeley a man leaping leap-ing from tiie train witil his stolen Krip. 1 nvesl fixation proves that the man's name is Sullivan. Mrs. Conway, the woman for whom Blakeley bouprht a Pullman ticket, tries to make a bargain with him for the forged notes, not knowing that they are missing. Blakeley and an amateur detective de-tective Investigate the home of Sullivan's Ulster. From a servant Blakeley learns that Alison West had been there on a visit and Sullivan had been attentive to her. Sullivan is the husband of a daughter daugh-ter of the murdered man. Blakelev's house Is ransacked hv the police. t-Ie learns that the affair between Alison and his partner Is off. Alison tells Blakelev about the attention paid her by Sullivan, whom she was on her way to marry when the wreck came. It is planned to give Mrs. Conway the forged notes In exchange ex-change for Sullivan. Mrs. Conway kills herself and Bronson, and the ashes of the forged notes are found in the room Sullivan Is found and explains how he got in tiie power of Bronson. who ordered him to steal the forged notes from Blakeley. Blake-ley. 1 CHAPTER XXX. Continued. "He would probably be accused of the crime. So, although when the wreck occurred I supposed everyone connected with the affair had been killed, there was a chance that you had survived. I've not been of much account, but I didn't want a man to swing because I left him in my place. v jiesides, I began o have a theory of my own. J "As we entered the car a tall, dark woman passed us, with a glass of water wa-ter in her hand, and I vaguely remembered remem-bered her. She was amazingly like Blanche Conway. "If she, too, thought the man with the notes was in lower ten, it 'explained 'ex-plained a lot, including that piece of a woman's necklace. She was a fury, Blanche Conway, capable of anything." any-thing." ; "Then why did you countermand that message?" I asked curiously. "When I got to the Carter house, and got to bed I had- sprained my ankle in the jump I went through the alligator bag I had taken from lower nine. When I found your name, I sentj the first message. Then, soon after, I came across the notes. It seemed too good to be true, and I was crazy for fear the message had gone. "At first I was going to send them to Bronson; then I began to see what the possession of the notes meant to me. It meant power over Bronson, money, influence, everything. He was a devil, that man.". "Well, he's at home now," said Mc-Knight, Mc-Knight, and we were glad to laugh and relieve the tension. Alison put her hand over her eyes, as if to shut out the sight of the man she had so nearly married, and I furtively fur-tively touched one of the soft little , curls that nestled at the back of her neck. "When I was able to walk," went on the sullen voice, "I came at once to y Washington. I tried to sell the notes to Bronson, but he was almost at the end of his rope. Not even my threat to send them back to you, Mr. Blakeley, Blake-ley, could make him meet my figure. He didn't have the money." McKnight was triumphant. , "I think you gentlemen will see rea son in my theory now," he said. "Mrs. Conway wanted the notes to force a legal marriage, I suppose?" "Yes." The detective with the small package pack-age carefully rolled off the rubber band, and unwrapped it. I held my breath as he took out, first, the Russia leather wallet. "These things, Mr. Blakeley, we found in the sealskin bag Mr. Sullivan says he left you. This wallet, Mr. Sullivan Sul-livan is this the one you found on the floor of the car?" Sullivan opened it. and, glancing at the name inside, "Simon Harrington," nodded affirmatively. "And this," went on the detective "this is a piece of gold chain?" "It seems to be," said Sullivan, recoiling re-coiling at the blood-stained end. "This, I believe, is the dagger." He held it up, and Alison gave a faint cry of astonishment and dismay. Sullivan's Sul-livan's face grew ghastly, and he sat down weakly on the nearest chair. The detective looked at him shrewdly, shrewd-ly, then at Alison's agitated face. "Where have you seen this dagger before, young lady?" he asked, kindly enough. "Oh. don't ask me!" she gasped, breathlessly, her eyes turned on Sullivan. Sul-livan. "It's it's too terrible!" "Tell him," I advised, leaning over to her. "It will be found out later, anyhow." "Ask him," she said, nodding toward Sullivan. The detective unwrapped the small box Alison had brought, disclosing the trampled necklace and broken chain. With clumsy fingers he spread it on the table and fitted into place the bit of chain. There could be no doubt that it bdonced there. voices in the house behind us. "The world doesn't hold anyone but you," I said, reverently. "It is our world, sweetheart. I love you." And I kissed her. A boy was whistling on the pavement pave-ment below. I let her go reluctantly and sat back where I could see her. "I haven't done this the way I intended in-tended to at all," I confessed. "In books they get things all settled and then kiss the lady." "Settled?" she inquired. "Oh, about getting married and that sort of thing," I explained with elaborate carelessness. "We could go down to Bermuda or or Jamaica, Jamai-ca, say in December." She drew her hand away and faced me squarely. "I believe you are afraid!" she declared. de-clared. "I refuse to marry you unless you propose properly. Everybody does it. And it is a woman's privilege: privi-lege: she wants to have that to look back to." "Very well," I consented with an exaggerated sigh. "If you will promise prom-ise not to think I look like an idiot, I shall do it, knee and all." I had to pass her to close the door behind us, but when I kissed her again she protested that we were not really engaged. I turned to look down at her. "It is a terrible thing," I said, exultantly, "to love a giii the way I love you and to have only one arm!" Then I closed the door. From across the street there came a sharp crescendo whistle and a vaguely familiar figure separated Itself It-self from the park railing. "Say," he called, in a hoarse whisper, whis-per, "shall I throw the key down the elevator shaft?" THE END. After all, Mrs. Curtis was dead. It was the happiest solution of the unhappy un-happy affair. McKnight brought Sullivan Sul-livan some whisky and he braced up a little. "I learned through the papers that my wife was in a Baltimore hospital and yesterday I ventured there to see her. I felt if she would help me to keep straight, that now, with her father fa-ther and my sister both dead, we might be happy together. "I understand now what puzzled me then. It seemed that my sister went into the next car and tried to make my wife promise not to interfere. But Ida Mrs. Sullivan was firm, of course. She said her father had papers, pa-pers, certificates and so on, that would stop the marriage at once. "She said, also, that her father was in our car, and that there would be the mischief to pay in t,he morning. It was probably when my sister tried to get the papers that he awakened and she had to do what she did." It was over. Save for a technicality or two, I was a free man. Alison rose quietly and prepared to go; the men stood to let her pass, save Sullivan, Sulli-van, who sat crouched in his chair, his face buried in his hands. McKnight saw her, with Mrs. Dallas, Dal-las, to their carriage and came back again. The gathering in the office was breaking up: Johnson had slipped away as unostentatiously as he came. Sullivan, looking worn and old, was standing by the window, staring at the broken necklace in his hand. Wlisn he saw me watching him, he put it back on the desk and picked up his hat. "If I cannot do anything more " he hesitated. "I think you have done about enough," I replied, grimly, and he went out. I believe that Richey and Hotchkiss led me somewhere to dinner and that, for fear I would be ' lonely without him, they sent for Johnson. And I recall a spirited discussion in which Hotchkiss told the detective that he could manage certain cases, but that ho lacked induction. Richey and I |