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Show "Why not Buck?" Trembly asked, smiling as he drew his pistol. "Sometimes I feel Buck and sometimes some-times I feel mister. You know how It goes with prima donnas. Now, one time," he broke the pistol and glanced at Its chambers, "I might have felt like framing these bums we've got. Tonight I don't. Pistol's all right, Buck. Thank you. Your cab's outside. out-side. We'll not bother you any more, i'ou've been a good scout. I told you I was Interested in ants and bees? Sure. I just wanted you to think of me as a human being. Many coppers are when you see them at home." Arthur, or Buck, Trembly was the only son of a Buffalo attorney of reputation repu-tation and wealth, whose money was made in hydroelectricity. The. father, was a graduate of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and of the Harvard Law school. There were six children, but Arthur was the only son. He had gone into Canada and had been a trooper In the Royal Mounted. He had got his man on a number of occasions, but on one the question why had arisen. The man could not answer It because he was dead. There was too much plausibility in Trembly's report for an official inquiry to be Indicated or demanded. Nevertheless a question remained. It would .have had more insistence if it had been known where the man's bag of gold was, (1) an hour before 4iis death; (2) an hour afterward. Arthur never rejoined re-joined his reputable Buffalo family circle. Trembly had married twice. His first wife had been the daughter of a well-to-do Indianapolis family who inherited in-herited one hundred thousand dollars on the death of her father. Mr. and Mrs. Trembly made identical wills, each bequeathing to the other all possessions. posses-sions. Mrs. Trembly died the year following her father's death. Trembly did not marry again until 1927. CHAPTER II The Necessary Dame All aside from what John Law and his tipstaffs might think of it, Dunn Clayton had died nice. He had been much too busy a man to linger weakly and wretchedly in his bed and pick "No, I don't see It that way. You'll hold out on me and It will cost you half your pile to beat the case. What do you know about the Clayton murder? mur-der? Why are you protecting these four 'hoods'?" (hoodlums). "They're not 'hoods,' mister," said Stanton. "They're boy scouts gone wrong. I'm not protecting them. Their own foolishness protects them, or should." "What have you to show It? The case against them seems clear. These men try to take the Dutch Mill. There were the three whom the people saw. There were, of course, others near the door. You assume there weren't, and so you conclude the three were simple-minded. simple-minded. Most of the customers In there were sheep when they were scared, but Clayton wasn't. Can you Imagine him taking a stick-up that way? He started to clean out these 'hoods,' tnd at his first move one of them back of him shot him. Then they all lost their nerve and ran. There's your story. It's not only plausible, it's insistent." "It's also worthless," said Stanton, smiling. "It doesn't take into account why Clayton was in the Dutch Mill. He was put there to be killed and that wasn't done by the fellows who only wanted ihe cash and ornaments of the customers." "How do you know that?" "It's partly guessing, as usual. A customer named Trembly Arthur, or , Buck, Trembly had been sitting at a table near Dunn. He volunteered to tell the story. He told it too well. He had seen too much, although he explained that plausibly. My impression impres-sion was that he had gone there to find Dunn, and that Dunn was astonished aston-ished to see him. That assumes that they knew each other. I think they did. I think Dunn knew at once that he was in for trouble and was sorry for it not because he had any fear but because it would spoil his respectability. respect-ability. I doubt that he suspected Buck of planting a killer on him. He'd expect Trembly to do his own." "Oh, wait a minute, Stanton !" the state's attorney interrupted. "Can you honestly think that there's even a semblance of probability or plausibility plausi-bility to that? How do you know they knew each other? Who says they did? Did Trembly say so? How do you know Clayton was planted there? I don't think you're quite reasonable. You say a simple case is no good, and then you produce what really is a fantastic fan-tastic one." "Isn't it the truth, mister?" said the lieutenant. "But that's the way the police business goes now and then. Why don't you stick to your story? It will get you a few headlines. 'Leonine Young Prosecutor Promises Swift Justice for Dutch Mill Bandits.' Ban-dits.' 'State's Attorney Corvaleskl Aroused by Outrage.' 'Hanging Horde Demands Rope for Killers.' " "Oh, go one with your story," said the state's attorney. "I'll have to because I've been holding hold-ing out on you. I'll let you judge in a minute whether Dunn was enticed into the Dutch Mill. Assume he was. I connect that with Trembly. I guess that Buck had some reason for killing Dunn and that he Intended to make sure of it by having some other man do it while Dunn thought he had only Buck on his hands. I happened to know Dunn Clayton a little more than by his reputation," said the lieutenant. lieuten-ant. "I knew him In the war." "Oh, yes," said the state's attorney. "I forgot. You were in the war." "Go to h 1," said Stanton. "You weren't. But don't let that worry you. Lots of other politicians weren't, and the ones who were in it kept it from being a really good war. But never mind that. You couldn't help It. The point Is, Dunn was a man to have some enemies. Say Buck was one of them. Dunn was smooth and cool and sometimes hard. My guess would be that he and Buck sat looking at each other and knowing that there was murder . coming. I don't know much about Buck, never having seen him until Dunn was dead, but I'll guess that Dunn sat there thinking he could beat whatever started. Only he didn't see it start. Now, I said I had been holding out on you. I took a letter off Dunn before they made a search of his pockets. A little quiet exploration sometimes helps. Here's the letter." He handed it to Corvaleskl who read It aloud: " 'Dunn, Old Dear I fcave been In town so short a time that I have Just learned you were here. I must leava Monday. It seems Impossible to see you and wholly Impossible not to. I can be run off with Saturday night by a discreet friend who will understand under-stand and who will give me an hour free and be my alibi for It. Be at the Dutch Mill sometime before midnight and, you willing and fate willing, you will see Maisie.' " "That was In his pocket," said Stanton. Stan-ton. "So I guess that considering he was killed he wa3 planted there to be killed." "It doesn't follow," said the first assistant. "The girl Is doing something some-thing clandestine. She is a bit late. The place Is held up. Her escort whisks her away." "Nothing ever follows nothing," said the lieutenant, "unless you're willing : to speculate. Now, I've talked to these bums, and they are merely pitiful. piti-ful. Take a diagram of the Dutch Mill, and then see what they tried to : do. In five more minutes, before they could have taken more than three ' watches, two bill roils and a ring, j they would have been shot by some j one from the kitchen or the office. The j coroner, the cops, the fire department, i the insurance patrol and a couple health department inspectors would have been arriving simultaneously." "Why didn't you hold Trembly?" Corvaleskl asked. "It was just my hunch not to try It. My guess was that we'd do better with him loose than with some lawyer in ! court to know why we were holding him." "But this letter; you certainly haven't been concealing it." "Only from publicity. The detective detec-tive bureau is looking for Maisie." ' "Who is she? Have you any idea?" "She's beyond my guessing. In fact, my guessing is pretty rotten, but It always comes back to Trembly and the conviction that he knew the note had been sent to Clayton. It may have been that the killer was outside or at another table waiting for Dunn to go. You see we can't tell what the appearance of Trembly meant to Dunn. He shows up, and Maisie doesn't. There's the nub of the matter. To that point it's Trembly's show. . We don't know what might have happened because this crazy hold-up explodes on the scene. Whoever shot Clayton certainly rationalized the unexpected just as if it had been made for him. That's what I see. These young fellows fel-lows we are holding know I'm the only friend they have, and they're telling me the truth. I'm sure of that. You probably can work them off if you want to, but don't think It will be good prosecution. It will be terrible." "I don't feel murderous," said the state's attorney, "but I can't as yet share your confidence. You let Trembly Trem-bly go. What happened?" "He gave a fictitious name for the man he said he was to meet in the Dutch Mill. That was expected. He went to Milwaukee instead of Minneapolis, Minne-apolis, but he did leave town." "Where Is he now?" "We don't know, but I think he'll be picked up again." "Who do you guess Maisie to be?" the first assistant asked. "Isn't she the key?" "You guess," said Stanton. "You might guess that she was an old gal of Dunn's. You might guess that she was married. You might guess that she still, liked Dunn, and that Dunn liked her. But if you can guess who and where she is or why she wrote that come-on letter you outguess me." "I'd guess that If she, wrote it she intended Clayton to be killed. There'd be a story in that. Then I'd guess that she might not have written it. Some one faked her hand." I "You see, mister," said Stanton, "there's just as good guessing in your own office as anywhere else. I'm going go-ing to Dunn's funeral, and remember, if you select the bums as victims, give thanks that we don't yet use the electric elec-tric chair. You couldn't burn them. They are too green and sappy. And so good day to you all. I'm going to the funeral." "I'll want you In a day or two again," said Corvaleskl. "YouVe had all you'll need out of me," said the lieutenant as he closed the door behind him. (TO BE CONTINUED.) 1! lillfl r-i) -ilL THE MEN on the DEAD MAN'S CHEST by Clifford Raymond , fWNTJ Service.) Copyright. The Bobbs-MerrlU Co. FROM THE BEGINNING During a frustrated "holdup" at the Dutch Mill, a fashionable Chicago night club, a patron later lat-er Identified as Dunn Clayton Is shot and killed. Lieutenant of Police Stanton, Investigating, questions a voluntary witness, calling himself "Buck" Trembly. . CHAPTER I Continued 2 "The man I'd known elsewhere," he explained. "He was my reason for coming to Chicago. The women were Incidental. They were his suggestion." sugges-tion." Clayton evidently had awaited the coming of only one person. His table was for two. When the three hold-up men took the scene the man who was to become the only victim had been imperturbable. "I wasn't very nervous myself," said Trembly, "but I thought he was less so." "I don't know how nervous you'd be, mister," said the lieutenant, "but there wouldn't have been any false starts from Clayton." "You knew him?" "A hit of him. He might have taken the three of them in another five min-ntes min-ntes if he had not been shot." "Maybe they knew that." "Not the faintest chance. Those bums didn't know anything. If they had they'd have known they didn't have a chance from the beginning. They were exposed on all sides. It was so raw that they ought to be given another chance before they're ' tried. But what happened?" "The shot. I was looking at Clayton, Clay-ton, saw him crumple, looked about and saw the fellow who shot him put his pistol In his overcoat pocket and walk out." "Have you a gun?" "Yes." "You're a competent citizen. You rather say so yourself. And you look like one. Why didn't you crack this killer?" "I'm not that good, Lieutenant," said Trembly. "Things were happening a bit too fast. You wouldn't count on the fellows you call bums bolting the way they did." "They would have bolted If some one had dropped a plate or slammed a door." "Anyway, I sat dumb." "Could you describe or Identify the man?" "Not a chance," said Trembly. "What I saw of his face was next to nothing, a blur. For the rest of It I could tell you that he was probably five feet eight or nine, one hundred and sixty-five to one hundred and seventy pounds and wore a black overcoat." "Half the male citizenship of the town," said the lieutenant. "Where are you staying, Buck?" "I'm not staying," said Trembly. "I'm leaving at two forty-five for Minneapolis. Minne-apolis. That is, if you do not need me further. I hope you don't." "I don't see why I should make you any Inconvenience, Buck. You've tried to come In with what you knew. You might not think that a copper would want to keep these poor bums from standing trial for something they .' didn't do, but I'd rather get the fellow who really did it. Give me the names of the people you were to meet here, will you? I suppose they came about the time the party was breaking for the outside and took themselves out of the picture. Write me their names and addresses, Buck." "I know only the man's," said Trembly. Trem-bly. "That's all right. A fellow can find a lot of women's names In this place. You stay here just a minute while I talk with the detectives. I should have said dicks, I suppose. Eh, Buck? Lots of us are queer fish. Now, you'd never guess that my hobbies are ants and bees. So probably I say detectives. detec-tives. Anyway, the detective headquarters head-quarters Is on the Job. That will end my concern with It. I'll be back In a moment. Just write me the man's name and address on a bit of paper." As soon as the lieutenant had gone out of the office Trembly took a piece of paper from the desk at his side and after a moment's consideration wrote : "A. P. Willard 3220 May Place." Five minutes later the lieutenant came' back. "You've got something under an hour for your train, Buck," he said. "I had them stop a taxi for you. As a formality would you let me see your gun? They ask these d n fool questions ques-tions of us. Did you see his gun? No. You knew he had one? Yes. lie told you he had? Yes. You didn't see it? No. And you're a copper? A copper, you are! I'm being pretty considerate, con-siderate, don't you think, mister? Let's see the old gat." "Pistol's All Right, Buck." at his coverlet. Although he had changed his boots for spats It was consistent con-sistent with his living that his dying should find them on. He was buried Tuesday, October 2, after the coroner's jury had taken its view. His funeral was a sober and decent affair with American Legion recognition of his good war record. The morning of the burying Lieutenant Lieuten-ant Stanton came to the station out of uniform. "Going somewhere?" his captain asked him. "State's attorney wants to see you. Clayton, I suppose." "I'm going to Clayton's funeral," said the lieutenant. "You believe the murderers always turn up at the burying." "This one won't. I knew a bit of Clayton when he was a square shooter." "Yes, and when was that?" "In the latest war. But why me to the state's attorney? I'm not a detective." de-tective." "Corvaleskl has asked for you.. The squad car will take you down." At the state's attorney's door the lieutenant had a wait of ten minutes. Then Horde, the first assistant, came out. "Hullo, Stanton," he said, "glad to have you back on a case. Come on In." "Don't kid me, man," said the lieutenant. lieu-tenant. "Wljen did you ever have me on a case? I'm not a detective. I'm an officer of patrolmen. You ought to know the difference." "Anyway, come in. He wants to see you." They went Inside. "Back again," said the state's attorney. at-torney. "You can't help yourself, can you? Always falling Into something nice. Red meat. Reputation. Fame. The fang of the law." "Mr. Corvaleskl," said the lieutenant, lieuten-ant, "you're not the man to kid a lieutenant lieu-tenant of police. Fangs of law aren't lieutenants at East Chicago Avenue." "How are the bees and ants? You'll be chief yet." "Of the bees and ants? Listen, Mr. Corvaleskl, being chief, which I'll never be, won't get me anything. Now, a poultry farm? Or did you ever think of pecans or grapefruit down south?" "That settles It You'll be chief. You'll start a couple new police rackets. When you're worth a million dollars you'll be discovered. I'll have to Indict you." "Come, come," said the lieutenant, "Is your servant a fish? Td take you In." |