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Show 57m P1L4M b- IARX ROBERTA MNEHAKT 8 AUTHOK f THE CIPCyLAIi STAIO CA.B I IIUJTKXIONS M.G.KETTNE- g jfgfB1 KaWV W- VVr-i'r-v w 'Wise ' ii Ti ( "Guard This with Youn, Life." v and thankful to have escaped notice I paid for my breakfast and left. At the cabstand I chose the least dilapidated dilapi-dated hansom I could find, and giving the driver the address of the Gilmore residence, in the East end, I got in. I was just in time. As the cat turned and rolled off, a slim young man in a straw hat separated himself from a little group of men and hur ried toward us. "Hey! Wait a minute there!" he called, breaking into a trot. But the cabby did not hear, or per haps did not care to. We jogged com fortably along, to my relief, leaving the young man far behind. I avoid reporters on principle, having lesrned long ago that I am an easy mark for a clever interviewer. It was perhaps nine o'clock when I left the station. Our way was along the boulevard which hugged the f ide of one of the city's great hills, far below, to the left, lay the railroad-, tracks and the seventy times seven looming stacks of the mills. The white mist of the river, the grays and blacks of the smoke blended into a half-revealing haze, dotted here and there with fire. It was unlovely, tremendous. tremen-dous. Whistler might have painted it with its pathos, its majesty, but he would have missed what made it Infinitely In-finitely suggestive the rattle and roar of iron on iron, the rumble of wheels, the throbbing beat, against the ears, of fire and heat and brawn welding prosperity. Something of this I voiced to tin grim old millionaire who was respoD sible for at least part of it. He wa propped up in bed in his East end home, listening to the market reports read by a nurse, and he smiled a little at my enthusiasm. "I can't see much beauty in it myself," my-self," he said. "But it's our badge of prosperity. The full dinner pail here : means a nose that looks like a flue. Pittsburg without smoke wouldn't be Pittsburg, any more than New York prohibition would be New York. Sit down for a few minutes, Mr. Blakeley Now, Miss Gardner, Westiughoust Electric." The nurse resumed her reading irv a monotonous voice. She read literally liter-ally and without understanding, using initial and abbreviations as they came. But the shrewd old man followed her easily. As the nurse droned along, 1 lound myself looking curiously at a photograph photo-graph in a silver frame on the bedside bed-side table. It was the pictm-e of a girl in white, with her handii clasped loosely before her. Against the dark background her figure stood out slim and young. Perhaps it was the rathe grim environment, possibly it was m mood, but although as a general thin.s photographs of young girls make no . appeal to me, this one did. I found my eyes straying back to it. By a little finesse I even made out thh name written across the corner. "Alison." "Ali-son." Mr. Gilmore lay back among his pillows and listened to the nurse's-listless nurse's-listless voice. But he was watching me from under his heavy eyebrows, for when the reading was over. am. we were alone, he indicated the picture pic-ture with a gesture. "I keep it there to remind myself I that I am an old man," he said. "That j is my granddaughter, Alison West." j I expressed the customary polite ! surprise, at which, finding me respon-: respon-: sive. he told me his age with a chuc : kle of pride. More surprise, this tim genuine. From that we went to what I he ate for breakfast and did not eal for luncheon, and then to his reserve. ! power, which at 65 became a matter for thought. And so, in a wide circle, back to where we started, the picture. "Father was. a rascal," John Of more said, picking up the frame. "The happiest day of my life was when i knew he was safely dead in bed ani not hanged. If the child had looked j like bim. I well, she doesn't. She's ! a Gilmore, every inch. Supposed I" look like me." ; "Very noticeably," I r.greed soberly ' I had produced the notes by that j time, and replacing the picture Mr I Gilmore gathered his spectacles from beside it. He went over the four notes j methodically, examining each car" .fully and putting It down befnr- he pick'd r.p the ni-xt. Then ). j leaned back and tool; ,;ff his gins" j "They're not so bad." he rale' i thoughtfully. "Not so bad. But :i . never saw ilir-m before. That's ivy unofficial signature. I am in'-linod t. j think" he was speaking partly to himself "to think that, he has got ; hold of a letter nf mine, probably t" j Alison. lironsr.n was a friend of hei ; rapscallion of a father " I tool: Mr. Gilmore's deposit inn and ! put it into my traveling bag v 1th the I forged notes. Wh'n I saw them again, I almost three weeks later, they were unrecognizable, a mass of charred pa per on a copper ash tray. In the in terval other and bigger things had i happened: The Bronson forgery cas' had shrunk beside the greater ant' j more Imminent mystery of (!:: map i lower ten. And Alison 'V'":.1 i into the story and intr. 1 (TO pj: CO.vt:.-:l . : ) CHAPTER I. I Go to Pittsburg. McKc;ght is gradually taking over the criminal end of the business. I never liked it, and since the strange case of the man lii lower ten, I have been a bit squeamish. Given a case like that, where you can build up a network of clews that absolutely incriminate in-criminate three entirely different people, peo-ple, only one of whom can be guilty, and your faith in circumstantial evi-dense evi-dense dies of overcrowding. I never see a shivering, white-faced wretch In the prisoners' dock that 1 do not hark back with shuddering horror to the strange events on the Pullman car Ontario, between Washington and Pittsburg, on tlie night of September 9, last. McKnight could tell the story a great deal better than I, although he cannot spell three consecutive words correctly. But, while he has imagination imagi-nation and humor, he is lazy. "It dida't happen to me, anyhow," he protested, when I put it up to him. "And nobody cares for second-hand thrills. Besides, you want the unvarnished un-varnished and ungarnished truth, and I'm no hand for that. I'm a lawyer." So am I, although there have been times when my assumption in that particular has been disputed. I am unmarried, and just old enough to dance with the grown-up little sisters of the girls I used to know. I am fond of outdoors, prefer horses to the aforesaid afore-said grown-up little sisters, and without with-out sentiment ("am" crossed out and "was" substituted. Ed.) and completely com-pletely ruled and frequently routed by my housekeeper, an elderly widow. In fact, of all the men of my acquaintance, ac-quaintance, I was probably the most prosaic, the least adventurous, the one man in a hundred who would be ilkely to go without a deviation from '.he normal through the orderly procession pro-cession of the seasons, summer suits to wirter flannels, golf to bridge. So (t was a queer freak of the demons de-mons of chance to perch on my unsusceptible un-susceptible 30-year-old chest, tie me up with a crime, ticket me with a loYe affair, and start me on that sensational sen-sational and not always respectable journey that ended so surprisingly less than three weeks later in the firm's private office, ft bad been the most remarkable period of my life. I would neither give it up nor live it again under any inducement, and yet all that I lost was some 20 yards off my drive! It was really McKnight's turn to nake the next journey. I had a tournament at Chevy Chase for Saturday, Satur-day, and a short yacht cruise planned for Sunday, and when a man has been grinding at statute law for a week, he deeds relaxation. But McKnight pegged off. It w-as not the first time he had shirked that summer in order to run down to Richmond, and 1 was surly about it. But this time he had new excuse. "I wouldn't be able to look after the nisiuess if I did go," he said. He has a sort of wide-eyed frankness that makes one ashamed to doubt him. 'I'm always car sick crossing the mountains. It's a fact, Lollie. Seesawing See-sawing over the peaks does it. Why, -rossing the Alleghany mountains has he gulf stream to Bermuda, beaten to n frazzle." So 1 gave him up finally and went oome to pack. He came later in the -vening with his machine, the Can-nonball, Can-nonball, to take me to the station, and je brought the forged notes in the Bronson case. -"Guard them with your life." he earned me. "They are more precious nan honor. Sew them in your chest orotector, or wherever people keep 'aluables. I never keep any. I'll not be happy until 1 see Gentleman Andy loing the lockstep." He sat down on my clean collars, 'ound my cigarettes and struck a natch on the mahogany bed post with ne movement. "Where's the Pirate?" he demanded. The Pirate is my housekeeper, Mrs. Kloptou, a very worthy woman, so labeled and libeled because of a ferocious fe-rocious pair of eyes and what McKnight Mc-Knight called a bucaneering nose. I quietly closed the door into the hall. "Keep your voice down, Richey," I r.aid. "She is looking for the evening jayer to see if it is going to rain. She has my raincoat and an umbrella waiting wait-ing in the hall." The collars being damaged beyond repair he left them and went to the window. lie stood there for some) .line, staring at the blackness that represented the wall '' the house iext door. "It's raining now," he said over his .shoulder, and closed the window and fhe shutters. Something in his voice ; made me glance up, but he was watch- j ing me, his hands idly in his pockets. ! "Who lives next door?" he inquired I n a perfunctory tor after a pause, j I 1 was packing my razor. ' "Ho ise is empty," I returned absent-' absent-' !y. "U the landlord would put it ; some ;ort of shape " I "D.d you put those notes In your I pocket?" he broke in. j I "Yes." I was impatient. "Along with my certificates of registiaticn, baptism and vaccination. Whoever wants them will have to steal my coat to get them." "Well, I would move them, if 1 were you. Somebody in the next house was confoundedly anxious to see where you put them. Somebody right at that window opposite." 1 scoffed at the idea, but nevertheless neverthe-less I moved the papers, putting them in my traveling bag, well down at the bottom. McKnig'.t watched me uneasily. un-easily. "I have a hunch that you are going to have trouble," he said, as I locked the alligator bag. "Darned if 1 like starting anything important on Friday." Fri-day." "You have a congenital dislike to start anything on any old day,", I retorted, re-torted, still sore from my lost Saturday. Sat-urday. "And if you knew the owner of that house as I do you would know-that know-that if there was any one at that window he is paying rent for the privilege." Mrs. Klopton rapped at the door and spoke discreetly from the hall. "Did Mr. McKnight bring the evening even-ing parcr?" she inquired. "Sorry, but I didn't, Mr. Klopton," McKnight called. "The subs won. three to nothing." He listened, grinning, grin-ning, as she moved away with little irritated rustics of her black silk gown I finished my packing, changed my collar and was ready to go. Then very cautiously we put out the light and opened the shutters. The window win-dow across Was merely a deeper black in the darkness. It was closed and dirty. And yet, probably owing to Richey's suggestion, 1 had an uneasy un-easy sensation of eyes staring across at me. The next moment w-e were at the door, poised for flight. "We'll have to run for it," 1 said in a whisper. "She's down there with a packag of some sort, sandwiches probably. And she's threatened me with "vcrshoes for a mouth. Ready now ! " 1 had a kaleidoscopic view of Mrs. Klopton in the lower hall, holding out an armful of such traveling impediments impedi-ments as she deemed essential, while beside her, Euphemia. the colored hous.'inaid. grinned over a white-wrapped white-wrapped box. "Awfully sorry no time back Sunday." Sun-day." I panted over my shoulder. Then the door closed and the car was moving mov-ing away McKnight . bent forward and stared at the facade of the empty house next door as we passed. It was black, staring, mysterious, as emp.'y buildings build-ings are apt to be. "I'd like to hob a pest -inert : r.i on that corpse of a ho is" he said thoughfully. hy George. I've a notion no-tion to get out and take a look." "Somebody after the brass pipes." 1 scoffed. "House has ben empty for a year " With one hand on the steering w'leel McKnight held out the other for my cigarette ease. "Perhaps." he said; "but I don't see what she would want with brass pipe." "A woman:" I laughed outright. "You have been looking too hard at the picture in the back of your watch, that's all. There's an experiment like that. If you stare long enough " But McKnight was growing sulky; he sat looking rigidly ahead, and he i did not speak again until he brought the Cannonball to a stop at the sta- tion. Even then It was only a per- functory remark. He went through i the gate With me, and with five min-I min-I utes to'spare, we lounged and smoked j in the train shed. My mind had slid away from my surroundings and had i wandered to a polo pony that I i couldn't afford and intended to buy anyhow. Then McKnight shook oil his taciturnity, j "For heaven's sake, don't look so martyred," he burst out; "I know you've done all the traveling this sum-: sum-: mer. I know you're missing a game to-morrow. But don't be a patient i mother; confound it, I have to go to Richmond on Sunday. I I want to see a girl." "Oh. don't mind me." I observed politely. "Personally, I wouldn't change places with you. What's her . name North? South?" "West," he snapped. "Don't try to be funny. And all 1 have to say, Blakeley, is that if you ever fall in love I hope you make an egregious ass of yourself." In view of what followed, this came rather close to prophecy. The trip west was without incident. I I played bridge with a furniture dealer deal-er from Grand Rapids, a sales agent for a Pittsburg iron firm and a young professor from an eastern college. I won three rubbers out of four, finished what cigarettes McKnight had left me and went to bed about one o'clock. It was growing cooler, and the rain had ceased. Once, toward morning, 1 wakened with a start, for no apparent reason, and sat bolt upright. I had an uneasy feeling that, sou.c one had been looking at me, the same sensation sensa-tion I had experi. need earlier in the eve.iii g at the window. But I could feel the bag with the notes, between me and the window, and with my arm thrown over it for security, I lapsed again into slumber. Later, when I tried to piece together the fragments of that journey. 1 remembered that my coat, which had been folded and placed beyond my restless tossing, had been rescued in the morning from i. heterogeneous jumble of blankets, evening papers and cravat, had been shaken out with profanity and donned with wrath. At the time, nothing occurred oc-curred to me. but the necessity of writing to the Pullman Corn; any and asking them if they ever traveled in their own cars. I even formulated ; some of the letter. I I was more cheerful after I had had j a cup of coffee in the Union stafon. i It was tor, early to attend to business, 'and I lounged in the restaurant and , hid behind the morning papers. As 1 I had expec-trd. they had got hold of my visit and its object. On the first page was a staring announcement that the forged papers in the Bronson case had been brought to Pittsburg. Underneath, Un-derneath, a telegram from Washington Washing-ton stated thai Lawrence Blakeley of Biaktley & McKnight had left for Pittsburg the night before, and that, owing to the approaching trial of tbe BroDson case and the illness of John Gilmore, the Pittsburg millionaire, who was the chief wiincss for the prosecution, it was supposed that the visit was intimately concerned with the trial. 1 looked around apprehensively. There were no reporters yet in sight, |