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Show "Gentleman L CHANNING 7 POLLOCK- & r w copyright, chawing pollock, wnuseryics SYNOPSIS The Duke, Barry Gilbert, a likable youth of twenty-three, jobless and broke, enters an unoccupied summer home In Southampton, seeking shelter shel-ter from a storm. He makes himself him-self at home. He Is startled by the arrival of a butler, Willetts; and a chauffeur, Evans. He learns that the son of the owner of the house, Jack Ridder, whom the servants had never seen, Is expected. He decides to bluff It out. His supposed parents have left for Germany. Next morning he opens a letter for his "mother," and finds a message from the real Jack, saying he could not come, and returning re-turning a hundred-dollar bill. The boy's father had pensioned him into obscurity. Barry pockets the money, Intending to return it later. On the way to Montauk, where he intended to disappear, he meets Judge Ham. bidge and his daughter, Patricia. Believing Be-lieving he is Jack Ridder, ahe invites in-vites him to dinner the following Thursday. Barry returns to Southampton, South-ampton, deciding to stay a bit longer. Mr. Ridder, Sr., through his newspaper, news-paper, the Globe, accuses Judge Hambidge of taking orders from Tammany Hall In a condemnation proceeding. Barry meets Peter Wins-low, Wins-low, prominent attorney. Winslow tells Barry that Judge Hambidge had seen an accident in which a woman was killed by a taxlcab. At home Barry finds the wife of the real Jack Ridder awaiting him. Her husband is in jail In New York, charged with the murder of Mike Kelly, Tammany boss. The girl, Peggy, tells Barry how she had met Jack In Florida and married him. as Jay Rogers. Jack lost his Job, and they went to New York, where she got work at the Cocoanut Bar. There she was accused of trying to pick the pocket of Mike Kelly, and was arrested. Her husband went to Kelly's Kel-ly's to Induce him to drop the charge. Later Kelly was found dead, his skull crushed by a decanter. Barry Buggests he can help as Jack Ridder, and Mrs. Rogers agrees. Judge Hambidge Ham-bidge delivers a decision in the condemnation con-demnation suit In which Kelly had been Interested. Barry cables Mrs. Ridder for J2.000. Winslow takes ! Rogers' case. Barry gets a job on ' the Globe under his true name. The editor, Ernie Harwood, assigns him to cover the Kelly murder. Barry suspects the Filipino servant of I Kelly. CHAPTER IV Continued "No holes In that alibi," Tim said, aa they reached the sidewalk. "Straight shooter, she Is. Ran a . saloon when Mike married her. Yon I certainly got wound up. What was all that about the latch key?" I "Bright and shiny, wasn't It?" I "Brand new. She told you that. . So did I, when we were looking at I Kelly's key-wallet." "Yes," Barry admitted. "But there wasn't any new key In that wallet." Tim Laugherty stopped short In Fifth avenue. "You're right," he said. "I've got the number," Barry j went on, producing his envelope. "A 60152. Write thnt down. A plain, round head. Two of 'em. Where's the other? It never was In that wallet, because every hook's ; filled." ! "Slaybe he carried It loose In his 1 pocket" "Wherever he carried the key, . where Is It?" "I don't know," Tim answered. "It wasn't on the body that's sure." By now, It was time for his dinner din-ner appointment with Peggy. Still In high spirits, he walked around to her boarding house. Barry Bar-ry remembered Southampton with shame when he saw the Ridders' two shabby rooms. The boy lay In one of them; a bright youngster, Ave years old. "The doctor doesn't seem to know what the matter Is," I'eKgy declared. "I know," Barry said. "I'd be Ick In this dump. Why don't you bring him out to the country?" Tegsy shook her head. "I waut to be near Jack," she repeated. re-peated. "Winslow says he's likely to be free lu a week." Dining comfortnWy In a nearby cafe, he told her everything that had happened since their parting; all the astonishing events of that day. And, with the recital, IVggy's spirits rose, too. When Barry mentioned men-tioned his new job, slie actually laughed. "That's funny," she said. "You're doing what the old man's real sou wouldn't do." "I've two reasons," Barry explained. ex-plained. "In the tlrst place It puts me in a splendid position to help Jack. In the second well, the fact Is that I'm nuts about a girl, and I want to make good on her account." "What's her name?" Patricia Hambidge. She lives at Southampton, and she and her father both knew the Ridders. They think I'm young Ridder, of course." The next morning, Barry dropped In again on Pete Winslow. The lawyer had talked with Peggy's husband, hus-band, and was persuaded of his Innocence, In-nocence, They've got a prima facie case, though," he admitted. "The grand jury'll Indict the boy, I'm afraid. We'll get him tried as quickly quick-ly as possible, and there Isn't the slightest chance of his conviction." Peter leaned forward, his fingers Intertwined between his knees. "That was a shrewd question you asked that Filipino. Only I wish you'd asked It of me. He's prepared pre-pared now. Never mind. When It comes to cross-examination " He rose, with the joy of battle In his eyes. "But be careful about tipping our hand," he said. "Bring In Mrs. Rogers. Rog-ers. I'd like to check .up on her statement." "Tomorrow?" "Make It next week." "He's a great lawyer," Ernie Harwood Har-wood said, when Barry repeated as much of thi3 conversation as It seemed wise to repeat. "And a wizard at cross-examination. I've seen him discredit one witness after another with mere monosyllables. Tell Winslow I may have a Up for him some day. It's nothing now. Just a phone call. But, If I ever find who It was " Barry devoted that evening to drafting a letter for the real Jack Ridder to copy and send to his mother. Something told him that whatever, the boy wrote himself would be cold and resentful. That would make the old lady unhappy, and Barry didn't want her to be. "I've got a Job on father's paper!" he wrote, with genuine pride. I've respected father's wish as to using his name except at Southampton, of course. They had to know there. At The Globe, I'm on my own, and getting ahead. I'll be a credit to you yet, darling." From that, he went into some detail de-tail as to his Interest In the friend "locked up for murder he didn't commit," and the need of funds for his defense. Even to Jack Ridder, It was obvious that the letter had to be sent, so sent It was In Jack Rldder's hand-writing from the railway station post box at Southampton South-ampton the following Friday. Barry Bar-ry arrived on an early afternoon train. He had wired Evans to meet him, and found Willetts waiting In the front hall. There was no doubt now that the butler suspected something, and Barry, sure of what he suspected, sus-pected, faced him with a broad grin. "What's the matter with you, Willetts?" "Matter, sir?" "You've been acting queer ever since the night Mrs. Rogers spent here. I don't know what you heard that night?" "Do you mean eavesdropping, sir?" There was a pained surprise in the man's voice. "Not me, sir. I've got my position posi-tion to remember. I've been a butler but-ler with some of the best families." "All right," Barry soothed him. "You think I'm back at the kind of behavior that alienated me from my father. Well, I'm not That 'glittery 'glit-tery lady' Is the wife of a man I met in Florida . . ." And, for the third time that week, Barry related his story. "She's a brave little kid," he concluded, con-cluded, "and she's in trouble up to her neck. I'm going to stand by her. I've got a job on my father's newspaper under an assumed name, because I want to win out on my own. I've cabled my mother for money, and everything I can get goes to that lady until her husband can win on his own. I'm going to be In town most of the time now, working my head off." "Yes, sir." "I've been a loafer most of my life iind this is the beginning of a new chapter." "Thank you. sir," Willetts said. "I'm very pleased, sir. If you dou't mind my saying so, very pleased." There were three memos of telephone tele-phone messages from Pat. Looking at them, on the library table, Barry went on grinning. He called her Immediately, and she asked where he'd been all week. When he told her, she seemed almost al-most annoyed. "So you've deserted me for a chorus girl," she said. Could Pat be jealous? 'How soon can you come over?" she Inquired. "Marian's not here yet, and dinner'll be late, but I simply sim-ply can't wait to hear your adventures adven-tures In sleuthing." As he dressed, Barry kept thinking think-ing of this conversation. Absurd that Patricia Hambidge could be worried by his attachment to the "glittering lady." "Willetts and Pat both oozing disapproval. Or do I merely Imagine It?" But Pat's disapproval, at least was depresslngly evident from the moment he saw her. She met him at the door, looking lovelier than ever. "The one girl In the world for me," Barry thought "Let's sit on the sun porch," Pat greeted hlra. "Father' be down In a minute. Marian came over by ferry from New London. She's dressing. Fancy your being concerned con-cerned with this Kelly murder. A true motion-picture hero. Go on; I want all the details." And, as Barry related them, the girl's irritation began to show in her face. It wasn't fair, she said, to "drag poor old Peter into it." Just because they'd met In this house at dinner. Nor could she see why he wanted to go Into his father's office under the name of Barry Gilbert "Frankly, Tm disappointed In you," she concluded, and obviously meant it Before Barry could reply, the Judge appeared, looking tired and haggard. That changed the subject, and Patricia's voice, which had been a little strident softened again. She was plainly disturbed about the old gentleman, and kept glancing glanc-ing at him anxiously. "Father's been ill all week," she said. "You ought've called off this dinner." din-ner." "I wanted you to meet Marian. But I do hope she comes down soon. Father's got to get to bed early." The Judge patted her hand. "Nonsense 1" "The doctor warned you against late hours," Pat reminded him. "But you would go to that banquet last Friday." "That wasn't late hours," the Judge argued. "We were all through before midnight" "But then you went for a walk," Barry said. He said it quite innocently, but he was startled at seeing Ham-bidge's Ham-bidge's hand close spasmodically over Patricia's. "Who told you that?" the Judge asked. "Mr. Winslow." Hambidge relaxed again. "So I did," he recollected "But only a couple of blocks." "Near a couple of miles, wasn't it?" Barry was still making conversation, conversa-tion, but there was nothing casual in the Judge's "Why do you say that?" "Mr. Winslow says yon saw that taxi accident at Sixteenth street and Fifth avenue." The Judge raised his eyes to Barry's, Bar-ry's, almost defiantly. "The taxi accident I saw was In Times square," he declared. "I don't know where you got the idea that it was at Sixteenth street I certainly didn't say that to Peter." "What does it matter?" Pat asked. "Here we are, gossiping, "Well, It Was Bound to Come," Barry Thought. when I'm supposed to be preparing you for a reunion." "A what?" "A reunion. With an old friend. That's the reason Marlon was so anxious that I should have yoa here. I didn't know myself until half an hour ago. Marian Lorn. Do you remember? She knew you at Harvard." Well, It was bound to come, Barry thought. "Are you surprised? Marian wanted want-ed you to be terribly." "I am terribly." This was the pay-off. What would Patricia say? Patricia was saying, "Well, you must be delighted, too. Marian was going to surprise all of us, and then she lost her nerve. 'Wouldn't it be too catastrophic' she said, 'if he didn't remember me?'" Miss Lorn was on her way down the stairs. Barry braced himself. "Come on, you!" Pat called. "Pinner's "Pin-ner's waiting, and so's Mr. Bidder." Marian raced down the steps, and halted, looking at him across the balustrade. "Mr. Ridder?" Now for It! "Well." she continued, "the joke's on me. I should never have known you." "I'd've known yon anywhere." "Of course, you had to say that. But didn't your hair used to be dark?" "Sure; I hennaed It" "No foolin'I I thought yon were slighter, too. But of course, there was only that one evening." Thank God for that I "Don't tell me we met only once?" "Don't you remember?" "It doesn't seem possible that I let you slip through my fingers." "Come on," Patricia urged "Everything's getting cold." Not Barry. He was warming up, and actually enjoying himself. It was amazing how his luck held! A pretty girl, Marian; all fluff and gurgle. She and Barry had the table conversation pretty much to themselves. Patricia put In a word occasionally, but she was distressed about her father, and with reason, for the Judge seemed suddenly worn out. Exhilarated by this newest escape, Barry was almost brilliant. They were finishing their coffee, when Marian said, "Do you still play?" "Bridge or golf?" he asked. "Silly! The violin, of course! I hope you haven't been flattering yourself that it was you I remember. remem-ber. It wasn't. I didn't even know whether your hair was dark or fair, but I'll never forget the way you played the Llebestod." "You never told me you played," Pat said. "Oh, I don't any more. That was a youthful indiscretion." "Youthful genius, I call it!" Marian persisted. "That night was full of music, Pat. A party at Betty Fletcher's. I came late, as usual, and the lights were very low, and Mr. Ridder was just beginning tne Liebestod. Little you knew what an admirer you left in that darkened dark-ened room." "Shame on you !" exclaimed Patricia. Pa-tricia. "You've got to play for me now." Waterloo. "I haven't touched a violin since I left college," Barry protested. "I don't even know where the old fiddle is." "Mine's upstairs," Marian Interjected. Inter-jected. "I'll bring it down." And she bounded out of the room. "I can't play any more," Barry held out lamely, "and I flatly decline de-cline to destroy Miss Lorn's illusions, illu-sions, or yours." "No excuses," Pat said, very definitely. defi-nitely. "Come on; we'll go into the drawing room." As they passed through the old fashioned sliding doors, Marian, instrument in-strument in hand, reappeared. "I'll accompany you," she Insisted, Insist-ed, "and I've brought the Llebestod." Llebes-tod." "That's great," Barry said, "but I warn you " Patricia was opening the piano. "I warn you," Barry said, "I'm going to make the most awful sounds human ears ever heard." And, with that, he pulled together to-gether the double doors. "Ouch 1" he exclaimed. They all turned to him. "What's the matter?" Pat asked. ' "Nothing serious," Barry replied, calmly. "I've slammed the doors on my fingers." He held up his right hand. It was crushed badly. Everybody was extremely solicitous, so-licitous, and Pat wanted to send for the doctor. "Certainly," Barry declared. "It's only broken the skin." "I'll take care of It now," Patricia said, dispatching the butler for witch-hazel and bandages. "Well, that's the end of the violin vio-lin playing," Marian remarked. "I'm afraid so. Wasn't I stupid?" "Not at all," Patricia answered, manipulating the gauze deftly. "The Judge wanted to go to bed early, anyway. I wonder whether you'd mind telephoning for Evans?" "I'll run you home In the roadster," road-ster," Pat volunteered, touching the bell again. "It's been a swell evening," Barry insisted, giving Marian his left hand. "Pleasant surprise, meeting you here. This Isn't good-by, is it?" "That's up to you. I'll be around until Monday." "Good night Judge, and I hope you feel better tomorrow." The roadster had been brought to the door, and Patricia climbed Into it "I'll be back soon," she promised. Five minutes later, the car halted halt-ed in front of the Ridder house. "Thanks awfully," Barry said. "Don't mention it." There was something very like mockery in her voice. "And, Mr. Gilbert For an instant Barry wasn't certain cer-tain he had heard aright "You've got courage," Patricia went on. "I'll say that for you. And a grand sense of melodrama. I suppose you picked that up In Hollywood." Hol-lywood." "I don't know what you're talking talk-ing about," Barry floundered helplessly. help-lessly. "No? Well, maybe I'll tell you sometime." She laughed. "Meanwhile" as he alighted from the car "I'd watch my step, if I were you." "I'm all right," Barry rejoined. "That depends," Patricia said. 'You're being a little bit reckless, I think." She put her foot on the accelerator, accelera-tor, and the car moved away. (TO BE C0T1UEDJ |