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Show By Charles J. Button Copyright 1922 by Dodd, Mead & Co.. Ino. "Yes, that is true. The lawyer confirmed con-firmed what I had heard about his losses. Whisky and Slyke had a good deal in common, you will find." He yawned, and I started again for my room. As I reached the door he added, "Black thinks the chauffeur killed Slyke. Maybe he did. Still" and he laughed "I never saw a man with a square head that knew very much. And that detective certainly has 'a square head." And with that absurd remark In my mind, I went to bed. CHAPTER VIII The Inquest Opens. It was only natural, after the lateness late-ness of the hour at which I went to bed, that I should oversleep the next morning. It was well after nine before be-fore I entered the breakfast room ; I found no one there but a servant who told me that the others had eaten some time before. When I had finished fin-ished my breakfast I went In search of Bartley, and found him in the sun parlor surrounded by a mass of newspapers. news-papers. He waved to me and went on reading. The inquest was not to be held until one o'clock ; and I wondered what Bartley wanted me to do with my morning. As if in answer to my thought, he looked up and s:id he was going Into Saratoga on some errands, er-rands, and suggested that I go with him and Interview the girl friend with whom Ruth had Intended to spend the night. The first place we stopped on our arrival in town was at a large drug store, where Bartley asked to see the proprietor. When he appeared, Bartley placed a small object on the counter before him. "Can you give me any Idea," he asked, "what sort of a bottle that cork came from?" The object was the little stopper with the red wax which he had showed me the night before. Picking it Ireen true, and I saw how very foolish my suggestion to Bartley had been that she might have committed the murder. When I returned to the lall, about an hour later, I found that Bartley had gone to Doctor King's office, and I followed him there at once. It was the usual physician's office, with cases of instruments along the walls and a flat-top desk in the center of the room. Bartley and the doctor were bending over a small pad when I entered, and Bartley told me that the doctor had been drawing for him a little map of the roads around the Slyke estate. The doctor looked older than when I had seen him first, far more tired and nervous. It took several sev-eral years to get over shell shock, from which he suffered, he told us, and he had been very foolish to start to practice again so soon after ms return re-turn from the front. He recounted a few of his war experiences, and they were enough to have broken any man. He said that, as soon as his duties in regard to the Slyke case were over, he was going to rake a rest. All the time he talked to us he played with a pencil or tapped the desk in front of him. We spoke of the inquest, and he told us that he did not need to call a coroner's jury unless he wished. The facts were so complex or so simple it was hard to say which that a jury would be confused by them. He' admitted ad-mitted that there was no doubt that Slyke had been murdered, but doubted doubt-ed if any jury would bring in a verdict ver-dict of murder on such slight evidence as we had. He suggested that, If It were murder, some one from Saratoga might have committed the crime. It was not a bad suggestion, and to my surprise Bartley seemed to regard It favorably. The doctor mentioned the chauffeur's arrest, and said that he had only known the man by sight. We talked for an hour or more, then returned re-turned home. Bartley was In his room changing his suit for luncheon, when a telephone tele-phone call came for him. When he returned he told me that the call had been from Mr. Slyke's lawyer. He had 'phoned him, Bartley said, that among the papers In the safe was an envelope with ten thousand dollars in bills in it, and that the hank had informed him that, on the day of our arrival Slyke had deposited thirteen thousand dollars with them. While this was Interesting news, I could not see that It was of any importance im-portance to us, and said as much to Bartley. He half smiled as he reminded re-minded me that ten thousand dollars was a lot of money to keep In the house, and added that It was strange that Slyke should deposit thirteen and retain another ten In his house. He wondered If his keeping the money had any relation to the visitor that he was expecting. At any rate, the man had not gotten the money, If that had been what he was after. Luncheon over, Currie. Bartley and I started for the Inquest. The newspapers news-papers had evidently received a tip that there was more In Slyke's death than had appeared, for when we arrived ar-rived we were forced to run a gauntlet gaunt-let of reporters, who recognized Bartley Bart-ley at once and crowded around him. They realized that. If he were Interested Inter-ested In the case, It was of more Importance Im-portance than they had suspected, and wnnted to know If he did not hnve some Information to give them. With a laugh at their Insistence, he replied that he did not; but, when he had, he would see that they were the ones to get It. There were a number of cars In front of the house and a small crowd of men standing about In twos and threes. Just as we turned to mount the steps, Lawrence drove up and greeted us with a rather forced smile. The Inquest was to be held In the large living room In which the burglars bur-glars had been found. Though It was not a public hearing open to every one, there were a goodly number of people present. Doctor King and the other ofl'.clals had not yet arrived ; and Black, who was talking to a group of men, left them and came to greet us. He told us that the chauffeur. lirlffeur, wns to be lironght from the Jail by Hoche, anil that he thought his testimony woilld make a sensation. Bartley seemed to understand what he meant, though I did not. The chauffeur had refused to talk and had answered all questions by saying that he would tell what he knew at the Inquest. All attempts at-tempts to find out what that might be had failed. Bartley aHked Black If ho still thought that the chauffeur was guilty of the murder. Black countered by stating that he did not believe that anyone else knew as much about the affair as he did. It wns his opinion that. If the chauffeur had not killed him, he ut least knew somelhliig about the crime. One thing Hie man had admitted when quest loned, and that was that, when he tcslliled, he would ruin several reputations. Hartley Hart-ley was much Inleresled, anil told Black that he wished he would ask Roche not to bring BrIITeur Into the courtroom until It was time for him to give his testimony. (TO UK CONTINUICD.) mm m air P CHAPTER VII Continued. 13 "You say," I suggested, "that Slyke was killed about two o'clock In the morning. The girl might have come to the house and killed him ; then gone back to her uncle's, and told the story about being afraid to go through the woods alone. Ehe said it was three o'clock when he came with her to the house. That's a good alibi, of course ; but suppose she had been to the house once before. The dog didn't bark, because he knew her. She was also in the house when the revolver re-volver disappeared. If you claim the taking of the gun was foolish, why can it not be said to be the kind of an illogical tiling a woman would do? The average man would know it was no use to remove the gun. You remember re-member how startled the aunt was when she saw the girl." Bartley had listened with an amused smile that grew broader as I talked. Though I had not been serious when I began, the more I thought of the Idea the more plausible my suggestion sounded. Bartley himself had said that in the case we must build up a theory first, and then see If the facts would fit It. When I had ended, he said that he himself had, at first, considered the possibility of the girl's having done It, but had decided against it. He reminded me that Slyke had been killed on the balcony, and carried down two flights of stairs, and that Slyke weighed one hundred and fifty pounds, the girl not a hundred. Remembering Re-membering that and the task it was ' to carry such a heavy weight down so many stairs, did I still think the girl could have done it? 5Iy face turned red with chagrin, and, seeing that I was hurt, he smiled at me kindly and apologized. "I didn't intend to hurt your feelings, feel-ings, Belt. You are like all newspaper news-paper men, you enjoy building up a story out of nothing. In this affair, we mustn't let ourselves get sidetracked. side-tracked. We shall need all the clear thinking we can do." Anxious to redeem myself, I said, "John, we have been going on the theory that some 'one from outside ' came into the house and killed Slyke, a mysterious visitor who arrived after Lawrence had left. Terhaps the murderer mur-derer was hiding in the house all the tune." He gave me an interested look and an approving nod. "Suppose," I went on, "that the murderer was on the balcony. It was a good place to hide. It was so dark up there that he could not have been seen from the ground. Then let us assume that Slyke heard a sound above him, when he was in the room below the balcony, and went up to see what it was. The person may have made the sound on purpose to attract Ms attention. At any rate, when he does come out on the balcony, bal-cony, he Is killed." Bartley did not speak for a while, turning my suggestion over in his mind. Then he answered, "You may be right. It Is possible that some one was waiting for him to come upstairs. But do not forget that, if that Is so, the person would have had to wait there for a long time; for he could not tell when Slyke would come into the room below the balcony. Still, your suggestion Is well worth keeping in mind." Although he spoke so favorably of my idea, I could see that he did not really agree with me. I yawned and Bartley glanced at his watch. It was after three, and we should ,have been in bed several hours ago. He rose, and taking two objects from his pocket placed them on the desk. I leaned over to see what they were. Lying black and sinister on the dark mahogany surface were the revolver that had been taken from Slyke's hand and hidden in the vault, and a little cork stopper, Its end covered with red wax that showed where .a knife had been used on it. "Look," Bartley said, pointing at them with a laugh. "The sob; result of a day's work. The only clues we have are before us. One Is a revolver that did not have a finger print on it; the other a little stopper that might have come from anywhere. From these we have to discover the murderer." mur-derer." - At-aln he laughed. I stood looking at the two objects, thinking how Insignificant In-significant they were and wishing they could speak and tell their story. I'atchiiig my mood, his face grew grave. He stood looking at tliein for a moment, then with a sudden gesture swept them into a small box saying, '".Ve ought to have been In bed hours ago." I had reached my room and was pulling down the bed covers when he called to me. I returned to his room and found fdtn sitting on the edge of hl.'i bed tal:ing off his nhoes. "I forgot to tell yon, Belt, that when v e reach the solution of this .murder, roim how or other whisky will he mixed up v.tth It. When you told me iluit Klyke had been selling whisky to iris friends, I knew that something was wrong. The Hading of the liquor In his oun vault make, me more cer-nln. cer-nln. He must have known that that whisky was tncre. Why, under heaven, a man that had the money Slyke was preMiimed to huvtr had, should secrete v hinky on hi grounds Is more than I know." "But," I reminded him, "you nay hi; did not hiiv ii much money as thouirhi hp had." He Suggested That, If It Were Murder, Mur-der, Someone From Saratoga Might Have Committed the Crime. it up, the druggist looked at It very carefully. He turned It over In his hand, scratched the wax with a knife, and took so long In replying that I thought he never would speak. "I think I can," he said at last. "The little cork not only had its top covered with red wax, but the wax ran down the sides of the bottle. In order or-der to get it open, It was necessary to cut the wax away. It looks to me as if It came from a Park Graham bottle." "You mean the drug firm?" Bartley asked. "Yes. I will show you." He went behind the Screen anil returned re-turned in a second with a little bottle in his hand. It was hut a few Inches long, and the cork stopper wns covered cov-ered in the same manner with red wax, and part of It had run down the sides of the bottle. It was the mate to the stopper that Bartley had found. Hartley examined the bottle carefully, care-fully, noted the label, and returned It tl the druggist. Vi', en we we're again In the auto-mobi.e, auto-mobi.e, Hartley said, "I wish I were as sute what that stopper was doing In that room as the druggist Is of the kind of a bottle It came out of." Hartley's ..real object In coming to town was, however, to visit the Jail and Ibid out from Hoche whether the chauffeur had ,old what lie knew or not. I left him at the Jail door, promising prom-ising to return within an hour, and went In search of I lie young woman with whom Slyke's step-daughter had expected to spend the night. When I found her, Miss Morton bore out all that Ruth had said about the way she had happened to go home the night of the murder. They had been to a dance together, and on the way back the cur hud broken down near the entrance to the Slyke estate. Itulh Fald, as she was so near, she might as well go home. One of the j filing men had gone with her to the little cottage where her uncle lived. He had waited until the old man had come downstairs, and had then re-I re-I Joined his party Uuth'H story had |