OCR Text |
Show pmllgr MART KOBERir mNfflARM f P :f .5 Kzsroi v 7i2E CJRCVLARWTAIRGiXBVX I and I fancy I groaned. There is no use expatiating on the friendship between be-tween two men who have gone together to-gether through college, have quarreled quar-reled and made it up, fussed together over politics and debated creeds for years; men don't need to be told, and women cannot understand. Nevertheless, Neverthe-less, I groaned. If it had been any one but Rich! Some things were mine, however, and I would hold them: The halcyon breakfast, the queer hat, the pebble in her small shoe, the gold bag with the broken chain the bag! Why, it was in my pocket at that moment. I got up painfully and found my coat. Yes, there was the purse, bulging bul-ging with an opulent suggestion of wealth inside. I went back to bed again, somewhat dizzy, between effort and the touch of the trinket, so lately hers. I held it up by its broken chain and gloated over it. Ey careful attention atten-tion to orders, I ought to be out in a day or so. Then I could return it to her. I really ought to do that; it was valuable, and I wouldn't care to trust it to the mail. I could run down to Richmond, and see her once there was n-: disloyalty to Rich in that. I had no intention of opening the little bag. I put it under my pillow which was my reason for refusing to have the linen slips changed, to Mrs. Klopton's dismay. And sometimes during dur-ing the morning, while I lay under a virgin field of white, ornamented with strange flowers, my cigarettes hidden beyond discovery, and Science and Health on a table by my elbow, as if by the merest accident, I slip my hand under my pillow and touch it reverently. rev-erently. McKnight came in about 11. I heard his car at tile curb, followed almost immediately by his slam at the front door, and his usual clamor on the stairs. He had a bottle under his arm, rightly surmising that I had been forbidden stimulant, and a large box of cigarettes in his pocket, suspecting my deprivation. "Well," he said cheerfully. "How did you sleep after keeping toe up half the night?" I slipped my hand around; the purse was well covered. "Have it now, or wait till I get the cork out?" he rattled on. "I don't want anything," I protested. "I wish you wouldn't be so darned cheerful, Richey." He stopped whittling whit-tling to stare at me. "'I am saddest when I sing!'" he a bad way. Not a jury in the country would stand out against the stains, the stiletto, and the murdered man's pocket-book in your possession." "Then you think Sullivan did it?" I asked. "Of course," said McKnight confidently. con-fidently. 1 "Unless you did it in your sleep. Look at the stains on his pillow, pil-low, and the dirk stuck into it. And didn't he have the man Harrington's pocket-book?" "But why did he go off without the money?" I persisted. "And where does the bronze-haired girl come in?" "Search me," McKnight retorted flippantly. flip-pantly. "Inflammation of the imagination imagi-nation on your part." "Then there is the piece of telegram. tele-gram. It said lower ten, car seven. It's extremely likely that 'she had it. That .telegram was about me, Richey." "I'm getting a headache," he said, putting out his cigarette against the sole of his shoe. "All I'm certain of just now is that if there hadn't been a wreck, by this time you'd be sitting in an eight by ten cell, and feeling like the rhyme for it." "But listen to this," I contended, as he picked up his hat, "this fellow Sullivan Sul-livan is a fugitive, and he's a lot more likely to make advances to Bronson than to us. We could have the case continued, release Bronson on bail and set a watch on him." 'Not my watch," McKnight protested protest-ed "It's a family heirloom." . "You'd better go home," I said firmly. firm-ly. "Go home and go to bed. You're sleepy. You can have Sullivan's red necktie to dream over if you think it will help any." Mrs. Klopton's voice came drowsily from the next room, punctuated by a yawn. "Oh, I forgot to tell you," she called, with the suspicious lisp which SYNOPSIS. Lav air !:i:kcley, lawyer, poos to Pitt-bur; 'vUii the forced notes in the Hreusnu case to pet the deposition of John Gilrnore. tnilliona-'iv. In the lather's house he is nitric el by the picture of i girl whom O'ln - re .explains is his randdau.chier. Alison West. TTe says her father is a rascal and a friend of the former. A lady requests Blakeley to buy her a Pullman ticket. He Kh-es her lower eleven and retains lower ten. He finds a man in a drunken stupor in lower ten and goes to bed in lower nine. He' awakens in lower seven and finds that his bai; and clothes are missing. The man in lower ten i.s found murdered. His name, it develops, is Simon Harrington. The man who disappeared with Blake-ley's Blake-ley's clothes is susp-: oted. Blakeley becomes be-comes interested in a .qirl in blue. Circumstantial Cir-cumstantial evidence, places Blakeley under un-der suspicion of murder. The train is wrecked. Blakeley is rescued from the j burning car by the girl in blue. His arm I is broken. Together they tto to the Carter Car-ter farm for hrca;-fast. The p,irl proves to be A lison 'West, Pus pnrLnor's sweetheart. sweet-heart. Alison's pecni'ar acl'ons mystify 'the lawyer. She drops her sold bac; and Blakeley. unnoticed, puts it in his pocket. He returns home and teams from bis landlady of strange happenings. I " ' J CHAPTER X! Continued. "Is she talkirg still? or again?" be j asked, just balers the door closed, j There was a second's indecision with I the knob, then, judging discretion the better part' Mrs. Kiopton went away. I "Now, then," McKnight said, settling set-tling himself in a chair beside the bed, "spit it out. Not the wreck I know all I want about that. But the theft. I can tell you beforehand that it was a woman." I had crawled painfully out of bed, and was in the act of pouring the egg-ncg egg-ncg clown the pipe of the washstand. I paused, with the glass in the air. "A woman!" I repeated, startled. "What makes you think that?" "You don't know the first principles of a good detective yarn," he said scornfully. "Of course, it was the woman in the empty house next door. You said it was brass pipes, you will remember. Well on with the dance; let joy be unconfined." So I told the story; I had told it so many times that day that I did it automatically. au-tomatically. And I told about the girl with the bronze hair, and my suspic- ions. But 1 did not mention Alison WTest. McKnight listened to the end without interruption. When I had finished he drew a long breath. "Well!" he said. "That's something of a mess, isn't it? If you can only prove your mild and childlike disposition, dispo-sition, they couldn't hold you for the murder which is a regular ten-twent-thirt crime, anyhow. But the notes that's different. They are not burned, anyhow. . Your man wasn't on the train therefore, he wasn't in the wreck. If he didn't know what he was taking, as you seem to think, he probably prob-ably reads the papers, and unless he is a fathead, he's awake by this time to what he's got. He'll try to sell them to Bronson, probably." - J'Or to us," I put in. We said nothing for a few minutes. McKnight smoked a cigarette and stared at a photograph of Candida over the mantel. Candida is the best pony for a heavy mount in seven states. "I didn't go to Richmond," he observed ob-served finally. The remark followed my own thoughts so closely that I started. "Miss West is not home yet from Seal Harbor." Receiving no response, he lapsed again into thoughtful silence. Mrs. Kiopton came in just as the clock struck one, and made preparation for the night by putting a large gaudy comfortable into an arm chair in the dressing room, with a smaller, stiff-backed stiff-backed chair for her feet. She was wonderfully attired in a dressing gown that was reminiscent, in parts, of all the ones she had given me for a half dozen Christmases, and she had a purple pur-ple veil wrapped around her head, to hide heaven knows what deficiency. She examined the empty egg-nog glass, inquired what the evening paper had said about the weather, and then stalked into the dressing room, and preparmed, with much ostentatious creaking, to sit up all night. We fell silent again, while McKnight Mc-Knight traced a rough outline of the berths on the white tahlecover, and puzzled it out slowly. It was something some-thing like this: that man Sullivan called me over the-telephone the-telephone yesterday morning." "Probably hadn't yet discovered the Bronson notes providing you hold to your theory that the theft was incidental in-cidental to the murder. May have wanted his own clothes again, or to thank you for yours. Search me; I can't think of anything else." The doctor came in just then. "Pretty good shape," he said. "How did you sleep?" "Oh, occasionally," I replied. "I would like to sit up, doctor." "Nonsense. Take a rest while you have an excuse for it. I wish to thunder thun-der I could stay in bed for a day or s6. I was up all night." "Have a drink," McKnight said,, pushing over the bottle. "Twins!" The doctor grinned. "Have two drinks." But the medical man refused. "I wouldn't even wear a champagne-colored champagne-colored necktie during business hours," he explained. "By the way, I had another case from your accident, acci-dent, Mr. Blakeley, last yesterday afternoon. aft-ernoon. Under the tongue, please."' He stuck a thermometer in my mouth. I had a sudden terrible vision of the amateur detective coming to lightj note-book, cheerful impertinence and incriminating data. "A small man?" I demanded, "gray hair " "Keep your mouth closed," the doctor doc-tor said peremptorily. "No. A woman, wom-an, with a fractured skull. Beautiful-case. Beautiful-case. Van Kirk was up to his eyes and sent for me. Hemorrhage, right-sided right-sided paralysis, irregular pupils all the trimmings. W'orked for two hours." "Did she recover?" McKnight put in. He was examining the doctor with a-new a-new awe. "She lifted her right arm before 1 left," the doctor finished cheerily, "so the operation was a success, even if she should die." "Good heavens," McKnight broke in, "and I though- ou were just an ordinary mortal, like the rest of us! Tfet me touch you (for luck. Was she-pretty?" she-pretty?" "Yes, and young. Had a wealth of bronze-colored hair. Upon my soul,. I hated to cut it." McKnight and I exchanged glances, "Do you know her name, doctor?" I asked "No. The nurses said her clothes, came from a Pittsburg tailor." ' "She is not conscious, I suppose?" "No; she may be to-morrow or im a week." He looked at the thermometer, murmured something about liquid diet, avoiding my eye Mrs. Kiopton was broiling a chop at the time and took his departure, humming cheerfully as he went downstairs. McKnight looked! after him wistfully. "Jove, I wish I had his constitution," constitu-tion," he exclaimed. "Neither nerves nor heart! What a chauffeur he would make!" But I was serious. "I have an idea," I said grimly, "that this small matter of the murder is going to come up again, and that your uncle will be in the deuce of a fix if it does. If that woman is going to die, somebody ought to be around to take her deposition. She knows a lot, if she didn't do it herself. I wish you would go down to the telephone and get the hospital. Find out hei name, and if she is conscious." McKnight went under protest. "I haven't much time," he said, looking at his watch. "I'm to meet Mrs. West and Alison at one. I want you to-know to-know them, Lollie. You would like the mother." "Why not the daughter?" I inquired. in-quired. I touched the little gold bag under the pillow. "Well," he said judicially, "you've always declared against the immaturity immaturi-ty and romantic nonsense of very young women " . ' "I never said anything of the sort,"' I retorted furiously. " 'There is more satisfaction to be' had out of a good saddle horse!'" he quoted me. " 'More excitement out of a polo pony, and as for the eternal matrimonial chase, give me instead a- ' good stubble, a fox, some decent dogs-and dogs-and a hunter, and I'll show you the real joys of the chase!'" "For heaven's sake, go down to the-telephone, the-telephone, ' you make my head ache,"' I said savagely. I hardly know what prompted me' to take out the gold purse and look at it. It was an imbecile thing to do call it impulse, sentimentality,, what you wish. I brought it out, one eye on the door, for Mrs. Kiopton has a ready eye and a noiseless shoe. But the house was quiet. Downstairs Mc- Knight was flirting with the telephone-central telephone-central and there was an odor of boneset tea in the air. I think Mrs. Kiopton was fascinated out of her theories by the "boueset" in connection connec-tion with the fractured arm. Anyhow, I held up the bag and looked look-ed at it. It must have been unfastened, un-fastened, for the next instant there-was there-was an avalanche on the snowfield of the counterpane some money, a wisp of a handkerchief, a tiny booklet witb -thin leaves, covered with a powdery-substance powdery-substance and a necklace. I drew myself tip slowly and stared at the necklace. It wits one of the semi-barbaric affairs af-fairs that women are wearing now, a heavy pendant of gold chains and carved cameos, sw-.ittg from a thin neck chain of the same metal. The necklace was broken: In three places the links were pulled apart and the cameos swung loose and partly detached. de-tached. But it was tho supporting . chain that held my eye and fascinated -with its sinister suggestion. Three inches of it had been snapped off, anil as well as I knew anything on earth, I . km.w that the bit of chain that the amateur detective had found, blood- stain and all, belonged just there. fTO llli CONTINUED S I ' j "H ' I Knew That Bit of Chain. 12 10 6 ' SIL- I.. I- II 9 7 characterizes her at night, "somebody called up about noon, Mr. Lawrence. It was long distance, and he said he would call again. The name was" she yawned "Sullivan." CHAPTER XII. The Gold Bag. I have always smiled at those cases of spontaneous combustion which, like fusing the component parts of a seid-litz seid-litz powder, unite two people in a bubbling bub-bling ephermeral ecstasy. But sure-sureiy sure-sureiy there is possible, with but a single meeting, an attraction so great, a community of mind and interest so strong, that between that first meeting meet-ing and the next the bond may grow into something stronger. This is especially es-pecially true, 1 fancy, of people with temperament, the modern substitute for imagination. It' is a nice question ques-tion whether lovers begin to love i when they are together, or when they j are apart. Not that I followed any such line of reasoning at the time. I would not even admit my folly to myself. Hut during the restless hours of that first night alter the accident, when my back ached with lying on it, and any other position was torture, I found my thoughts constantly going back to Alison Ali-son West. I dropped into a doze, to dream of touching her fingers again to comfort her, and awoke to find I had patted a teaspoonful of medicine out of Mrs. Klopton's Indignant hand. What was it McKnight had said about making an egregious ass of myself? And that brougLi me back to Richey, quoted unctuously. "It's pure reaction, reac-tion, Loilie. Yesterday the sky was low; 1 was digging for my best friend. To-day he lies before me, his peevish self. Yesterday I thought the notes were burned; to-day I look forward to a good cross-country chase, and with luck we will draw." His voice changed suddenly. "Yesterday she was in Seal Harbor. To-day she is here." "Here in Washington?" I asked, as naturally as I could. "Yes. Going to stay a week or two." "Oh, I had a little hen and she had a wooden leg And nearly every morning she used to lay an egg " "Will you stop that racket, Rich! It's the real thing this time, I suppose?" sup-pose?" "Well," he said judicially, "since you drag it from me, I think perhaps it is. You you're such a confirmed woman-hater that I hardly knew how you would take it." "Nothing of the sort," I denied testily. testi-ly. "Because a man reaches tho age of 30 without making maudlin love to every " "I've taken to long country rides," ho went on reflectively, without listening listen-ing to me, "and yesterday 1 ran over a sheep; nearly went into the ditch. But there's a Providence that watches over fools and lovers, and just now I know darned well that I'm one, and I have a sneaking idea I'm both." "You are both," I said with disgust. "If you can be rational for one moment, mo-ment, I wish you would tell me why "You think he changed the tags on seven and nine, so that when you went back to bed you thought you were crawling into nine, when it w-as really seven, eh?" "Probably yes." "T'.ica toward morning, when every-i every-i body was asleep, your theory is that he charged the numbers again and: left the train." I "I can't think of any thing else," l replied wearily. "Jove, what a game of bridge that i fellow would play! It was like 'blessing 'bless-ing an eight-spot and winning out.; They would scarcely have doubted you had the tags been reversed in j the morning. He certainly loft you in ' |