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Show ; Synthetic Gentleman L CHANNING rfl " POLLOCK- COPYRIGHT, CHANMNG POLLOCK WNUSERYICE 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 frorr, a storm. He makes himself him-self at home. He Is startled by the arrival of a butler, Wllletts: and a chauffeur, Evans. He learns that the son of the owner of the house, Jack RIdder, whom the servants had never seen, la 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-bldge Ham-bldge and his daughter, Patricia. Believing Be-lieving he is Jack Ridder, she 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 Hambldge of taking orders from Tammany Hall in a condemnation proceeding. Barry meets Peter Wins-low, Wins-low, prominent attorney. Wlnslow tells Barry that Judge Hambldge had seen an accident in which a woman was killed by a taxicab. 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 suggests he can help as Jack Ridder. CHAPTER III Continued 5 ' "What's the answer If he don't?" "The answer then is that a noble young fellow, named John Clarke Kidder and that's me gets a whole lot Interested In an unfortunate unfortu-nate guy named Jay Rogers. Why? Because he believes him to be In-Innocent In-Innocent that's why. And, don't make any mistake, a guy like Ridder Rid-der believing It's going to start a lot of other people believing it, too. I write my mother that I've got to havie money to carry on the fight, and I get it, because the old man decides I can't be so bad, after all. Maybe he gets his newspaper Into the scrap not for his own son, which wouldn't help much, but for a stranger. Whether that happens or not, I'll get a Job and a lawyer, and use 'em both for you. I'll use all the family Influence for you. And, when it's over, and your husband's hus-band's acquitted, I'll be in some position po-sition to talk to the old man for you." "What If he Isn't acquitted?" "You've got to face that chance, either way." Peggy looked at him with hard eyes. "You're a pretty smart fellow," she said. "Pretty smart If you can talk me Into keeping my mouth shut while you get the money, and the position, and everything my husband ought to have." "Will he get it if I don't? Use your nut, Peggy. What do I gain? If you spill the beans tonight, what good does It do you? And what harm does it do me? Maybe I go to jail for a few weeks. But It don't get your husband out of Jail, does It? This way might, and It's the only way. Think It over." "Will you answer me one question?" ques-tion?" the girl asked. "Shoot" "If jou've nothing to gain, why are you doing this?" The Duke had been pacing the room. lie stopped short now, and his clenched hands fell limp at his skies. "Damned if I know," he responded. respond-ed. "And that's the truth." They could hear the clock ticking In the hall. Then It struck two. "All right," Peggy said, at last. "I'm going to piny it your way. Where do we go from here?" "I think you'd better go to bed," the Duke answered. "Here?" "Why not?" grinned the Duke. "You've got a whole lot more right here than I have. There's a guestroom guest-room that Wllletts always keeps ready." The girl hesitated. "What time can I get back to New York?" she asked. "There's a good train around nine o'clock." 1 "All right." i Barry opened a door the other 'Bide of the library, and switched on the lights. "There you are," he said. "All right" "It Just struck me," he remarked. "You don't suppose your husband might have given his real name?" "No. But that's one reason I want to get back. You better come with me, too. I think you're on the level, but I'm not so sure Jack's going to think so." "O. K.," Barry assented. "Breakfast "Break-fast at eight Good night, Mrs. Rogers." Rog-ers." "Good nlgnt,. Mr. Ridder." She smiled, a wan ghost of a smile. Standing before the dying fire, Barry exclaimed: "What a damned fool I am!" and stuffed the letter Into his pocket. The newspaper lay before him, and, with It, he came back to the hearth. "Let's see what It's all about," he said. The story filled the first page, and overflowed onto the second and third. Judge Hambldge'a eagerly-awaited eagerly-awaited decision was crowded Into an upper corner of the fourth page, with a two-column picture of the Judge. There was no editorial comment com-ment Evidently, there hadn't been time for that yet "For some unexplained un-explained reason," the paper said, "the murder was not reported to the police until nearly noon." The body had been found by the Filipino Fili-pino servant shortly after eight that morning. Mike Kelly's skull had been fractured by a single blow with a heavy cut-glass whiskey decanter de-canter that lay close by, its contents con-tents still undisturbed. There was no sign of a struggle. The Filipino boy's yarn was straight enough. Kelly had come home just before eleven o'clock. He was a little drunk, the boy admitted. admit-ted. He had let himself In with his latch-key, and gone straight to the dining room, where he rang violently. vio-lently. The boy had responded, and got out the liquor and the glasses. Then a young man had called. His name was Rogers, the boy remembered, and he said he had known Kelly in Palm Beach. Kelly had said, "All right; show him Into the drawing room," and the boy had done so, and brought in the tray. Then he had gone back downstairs. A little while later, he had heard angry voices In the drawing room, and had listened outside. In the hall. What he had heard was pretty pret-ty much what the girl had repeated, but there were a few additions, In the way of threats from the visitor. visi-tor. The Filipino decided that It was none of hl3 business, and returned re-turned to his room. Ten minutes later, anxious In spite of himself, he remounted the back stairs. As he reached the top, he heard the drawing room door closed noisily, and saw the caller hurry Into the hall and through the front door, which he banged after him. It was then nearly midnight The Filipino Fili-pino had been on duty since seven that morning, and, reassured, he tiptoed down the stairs, and went to bed. That was all he knew until, un-til, eight hours later, he came upon Mike Kelly's body lying face-down on the floor. The Duke was Just about to go to bed himself, when he noticed a small headline. "Artist's Wife Crushed by Taxi." That would be the accident that upset Judge Hambldge. Ham-bldge. "I might talk to Wlnslow at the Hambidges," he thought sleepily. "But I guess Peggy's right Better see Jack first. I've got a date with Winslow at his office on Monday." The hall clock struck three. "Nevertheless, the Duke was up an hour before breakfast He shaved, and bathed, and tossed a few things into an overnight over-night bag he'd seen In the closet. Emerging, he ran Into Wllletts. "Breakfast for two," the Duke ordered. or-dered. "Mrs. Rogers and I are tnk-inz tnk-inz the 9:-T to New York." lie thought the butler looked at him sharply. As their train left Southampton, Peggy looked even shabbier In her cheap black dress and her little red beret. Her face was very white, for want of make-up or sleep. "It's funny," she said awkwardly, "but I sort of feel that everything's going go-ing to be all right now." "Why dou't you and the boy move out here?" "To stay, you mean?" "Sure. I can square It with Wllletts. Wll-letts. Come along, the end of the week, Peggy. After all, it's where you belong, you know." "I belong with Jack," she said. "And, anyway, has It struck you that the old man might come back unexpected? He's been mad six years. What's he going to do when he finds out about all this?" "Well," Barry hazarded, "If we've got his son out " "He won't care," Toggy Interrupted, Interrupt-ed, her voice again hard and pitiful. piti-ful. "He never did. "He smashed Jack's fiddle. Jack wanted to be a violinist He' could've been, too. But the old man found he was taking lessons. 'I don't want any jazz-banden In my family,' he snorted. 'You're going to take my place when I die.' "That started It He'd always been hard on Jack. Bossy, the old man is. And you can't boss Jack. He got another 'fiddle. He was good on it too. When he went up to Harvard, Har-vard, he used to play it at parties. "When his father heard about that he threatened to cut off Jack's allowance. So Jack stopped fiddling, fid-dling, and began to drink. And, one night when he was awful drunk, he wrote the old man's name on a check. He tried to get it back the next day, but the bank had turned it down, and the guy he'd given It to was sore, and had Jack arrested. "Jack had sold his second fiddle to make good. He never got anoth er one. The old man cut Jack loose. He came up to Boston, with a newspaper that printed the story in his hands. Cold as Ice, he was. 'You've disgraced me,' he said, 'and you'll go on disgracing me, if I'll let you. I won't. You can go where you like and do what you please, but not with my name. If you ever use that again, you can starve." Peggy turned to the window. Then, abruptly, "How are we going go-ing to get in to see him?" she asked. "You're his wife," Barry answered. an-swered. "And you?" "I'm his friend. And my name's Ridder." Even Peggy's story didn't quite prepare the Duke for that meeting with his other self. He'd rather expected to see one of those weaklings who find the world a vast conspiracy against them. John Clarke Ridder, Jr., proved to be merely a frightened youngster. young-ster. A slim, rather frail lad In his early twenties, with soft, dark hair, and large, dark eyes, and a peculiarly sensitive mouth. His hands were soft and sensitive, too, but there was nothing effeminate about the boy. "Gee, I'am glad to see you, Peg," he blurted out. "I was getting a little bit worried." Peggy's presence reassured him. Evidently, he counted on her, and felt safe while she was with him. "Jack," she said, quietly and significantly, sig-nificantly, "I've brought your friend, Mr. Ridder. He's going to help us." "That's great," he observed. Fortunately for them, the guard had other things on his mind. He kept disappearing, and coming back, Quickly He Mapped Out His Plans. and looking away from them to a paper that someone had given him, and that seemed Irritating. In a low-voice, low-voice, Peg outlined what had happened, hap-pened, and the conclusion that had been reached. The boy turned to Barry. Young, frightened, and soft, he could reason quickly, and talk straight "I don't understand," he said to the Duke. "If these people will do things for you, because they think you're Jack Ridder, why won't they do 'em for me, when they know I'm Jack Ridder?" "Because they like me. They've never met you. And because my record's clear. I'm not accused of murder under circumstances that well, they don't sound pretty, at first, do they?" "They do not." "And, of course, there's your mother." The sensitive mouth tightened. Barry gave him the letter he had shown Peggy. The lad read It "The old man's got her buffaloed," buffa-loed," he remarked; "same as he's got everybody else. O. K. I wouldn't have used my own name, anyway. Letting you use it's another an-other thing, but Peggy thinks you're straight, and she's never been wrong yet It's a queer game, but I'll sit In. What next?" Barry was relieved. The guard halt been showing his paper to a colleague. Quickly, be mapped out his plans so far as he had any. "I've got a date with Peter Wins-low Wins-low on Monday. And I'm going to cable your mother for money. We've got to have that I hope to get a Job pretty soon, and make my own way, but Just now, there's less than a hundred and fifty dollars dol-lars In the kitty, and I'm going to give most of that to regiry for current cur-rent expenses. You'd better write your mother, too the kind of a letter you'd write in answer to that. If you were lu my shoes. I'll bring you ttie stationary, and. of course, i I'll mail your letter from South-, ampton. We'll have to smuggle it out of here, I suppose. Now, tell me exactly what happened the night before last" The story differed very little from the one Barry had heard, but It was full of shrewd questions that hadn't occurred to him. "Did you ever see Kelly?" "No." "He was enormous. Must have been six-feet-two in his stockings. I'm five-feet-five in mine. I'd've had to stand on a chair to hit him on top of the head." "Unless he was sitting in one." "The body wasn't anywhere near a chair. It was up against the door to the hail. The paper says ' so. The Filipino got In through the dining din-ing room. I got out through the hall door. He saw me. How did I do that, if Kelly was lying against it?" "I don'Cknow." "Two more things: The lights were burning full tilt when I left. I could see Kelly's shadow on the blinds as I passed the house on my way home. Were they still burning when the butler came in the next morning! And, if not, who turned 'em out?" "What's the other Item?" The other item's the crux of the whole business," Jack answered. "Mike rushed me out because the phone rang, and the fellow that rang It was coming over to talk to him. Did he come? If not why not? And if that fellow did come, Isn't it likely that he's the guy that killed Kelly?" CHAPTER IV IT WAS long after one o'clock when they walked out of the Tombs. Peggy was all In now. Barry splurged on a taxi to take her "home" to the dingy boarding house where the disowned Ridders lived. In the upper Forties. In spite of her protests, Barry kept his word as to giving her most of that hundred hun-dred and fifty. "It Isn't mine," he declared. "We'll eat together Monday, after I've talked to Winslow. I'll be around about six o'clock." It was two now a warmish Saturday Sat-urday afternoon. Nearly forty-eight hours before he could hope to find the attorney. Any inexpensive hotel would do. He registered at one a few blocks from Peggy's. "Barry Gilbert" he wrote. From his new residence, Barry went to the Astor, and cabled Mrs. Ridder. The message read: "Making good stop water-wagon and on track of a Job stop friend of mine met in Florida locked up for murder didn't commit stop can you arrange credit here up to two thousand thou-sand dollars stop won't use unless necessary for friend and will return every penny stop wire Peter Winslow lawyer for confirmation If desired stop this Is my big chance to do something worth while stop writing details all's well don't hurry back love. John." "I'll need that two thousand quick," Barry thought. "Winslow'll want a retainer, and there'll be a lot of other things." Barry wondered won-dered what to do with his forty-eight forty-eight hours. "I'll stroll down to Kelly's place," he decided, "and give it the once-over." From Sixth avenue, he turned into Sixteenth street, and stopped before what the tabloids were calling "the scene of the murder." - It was an old-fashioned red-brick house, with a bay window, and a heavy front door. A policeman stood guard, and a group of curious loiterers as near as they dared. Remarkable, Barry thought, how people could stand staring at anything any-thing connected with a tragedy. There was another little group at the corner, where workmen were putting In a new traffic light standard. stand-ard. Broken off short, Its predecessor predeces-sor lay on the pavement. Having nothing better to do, Barry asked, "What's the excitement?" "Taxi smash." "When?" "Just before two o'clock yesterday yester-day morning. Killed a woman. Crushed her right up against that post. Broke It off short. Don't seem possible." No wonder the Judge was "upset." "up-set." Curious, Barry thought, these two violent deaths within a few yards and a few hours of each other. Curious, too, that the Judge's stroll should have brought him so near the house In which Kelly lay murdered, mur-dered, but no more remarkable than the series of events that had involved in-volved Barry In the whole affair. "Life's full of coincidences," Barry mused. "It's only In fiction that people pay much attention to 'em. Winslow said the Judge went for a walk, and that's the simplest explanation ex-planation of the whole matter. He was at the attorney's office before ten o'clock on Monday morning, morn-ing, lie was ushered Into the pleasantly pleas-antly furnished corner room that was Teter's. The lawyer rose, as Barry entered, and came forward, one hand outstretched, and the other oth-er holding a newspaper. "The early bird, eh?" (TO EE COyTlM ED) |