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Show Km- SOMBRERO 1 eit'tT?CLIFFORD KNIGHT -f rhaiflcld. Hollywood artist. Is from Uie will of her Aunt Kitty I Bh0 died from an overdose o! toe. narry, an amateur detective, Huntoon Rogers, a professional ,h ro down to Mazatlan, Mexico, on hi cruise wiU Margaret and Dwlght ' 1 Rorcrs is not quite satisfied ."Yu'nt Kitty dJed by her own hand. mi Iter rrive 3,1 Ma"Uan Cud lElia, James Chesebro. a mine own- ind George Rumble, Elsa's agent, U precede! them by plane. They dine branch of Sam Cbatflcld, Elsa's fa-Rogers fa-Rogers asks Cbatflcld If he was ?cillfornla at the time bis sister, Kitty, 2,1 Tne Question upsets Sam Chat-UU Chat-UU considerably. CHAPTER V "So, you see when Kitty was fcund'dcad early next morning I " frightened for Berta. What if ' tt police asked questions'' What if ey heard through the servants that s fehad stayed the night there? That 8 gerta had been very angry with a Kilty? Could I have my beloved Ber-l Ber-l u the target of police qucstion-. qucstion-. s? You fee?" "Very clearly," said Rogers. "In f ciier to set your mind at rest, Mr. i (jatfield if you are still troubled Tveread the police files dealing with ' jour sister's death. There is no zfntion of your presence In the tcuse that night Or even in town H nthe hotel. How did you manage to li?" j "Elsa managed it. She was there, i course. I never asked her how -i 5 did it I'm relieved to know 3t Eerta and I have no official conation con-ation with what happened that $t We were happy to get safely tome to Mazatlan. and we have not nntured back to California, except fcr our brief visit some weeks ago." "Were you aware that Katherine Ctaifidd was a morphine addict?" Se Inquired of our host. "Not until after she died. More-,Tcr, More-,Tcr, I don't think that Elsa knew 8, either, living as she was in the cme house with her, until after Kit-death." Kit-death." "Am I being too personal, Mr. CatSeld?" Rogers' voice was apol-cfetic; apol-cfetic; he gave the impression that, ill Sam Chatfield had to do was to wy so and the questioning would Rise. "Mot at all, Mr. Rogers. I am dy too glad to tell you what I I bow." i "Yes." j "Did you detect any unusual odor r la the room?" i "No. The room was closed had Seta closed all night, I suppose But 1 . ?m a poor person to be asked that I riestlon; my sense of smell is not irjte." 1 "No odor of chloroform, Mr. Chat-J Chat-J iid?" "No, I don't recall it." He poured from the bottle and reached for the siphon, his arm billing midway in its reach. "But this talk of murder?" he asked. "Why not let it rest as it undoubt- I sty was as a suicide?" The district attorney has never tea satisfied with the investigation J iJt was made at the time, Mr. ylalficld," I remarked. "He's a ise friend of mine; he's never n willing to call It suicide." "But have you anything to go , !t which indicated that it wasn't?" B" IT haven't" I admitted. t8 l$am Chatfield's gray eyes in his V-Ply tanned face turned to Rog- - inquiringly. phere is an investigator on the II pdena police force with an ex-13 ex-13 Ordinary sense of smell. He says J '-ire was an odor of chloroform in room that morning." ' "Well?" Sam Chatfield sat for- in his chair. "Why chloroform if it was suicide? four sister was a morphine ad- A and had a source of supply, as J must have had, why chloroform r-m she knew that an overdose of . srphine was all she required." JAnd tliat fact I'm not disputant disput-ant the evidence of the man's nose cW swayed you to the opinion that rZ aJiser was murdered?" rout Do you have any more questions, Jpr Rogers?" inquired Sam Chat- There's one more thing," Rogers 1 -Jan slowly. "I hesitate to bring it ,Ur r It must touch very closely your sensibilities. And yet it vital" I Sam Chatfield's voice was v ifc Unfrlendlv almost ( 3"cre WBS a child some five ii nF 80 Sg0- And' ol course' gs' L Ely gossip. The truth never e out, -even among close friends " JOur family" Chntfield's' eyes, suddenly "blazing with anger. ' JVnoUling to 8ay. Mr- Rogers, ib v . at child- li's dead- J C , ident Is dead- so far 85 we n :t, are concerned." 8orr7.M replied Rogers. "I'm ' jeorry." fished that next day. All day 1 , VeJ fte launch Plied the onyj ers off Mazatlan until well vu yitle4aflernoon Margaret, who Z W C,d with "s. remained in the S Z? a couple of hours. Elsa !J5' ltnr,uwd t0 come out- bringing vl , her- So w PIckcd them wharf and put the three r' ttnLn board the Orizaba and ?VV We7 thing k0"1 'th launch. rl J : 11,81 but a run of J . c in the afternoon provided ample excitement; and in the eve-nlng eve-nlng we nursed our sunburn and talked of the fishing yet to be done. Elsa seemed downcast at the rail that evening as she and I watched the brief, fiery sunset which preceded preced-ed the dusk. D wight and Margaret were below; Rogers was in his stateroom state-room doctoring a blistered nose, and Berta had been set ashore. Our fishing plans had been changed after aft-er dinner. Margaret had decided to invite Berta and Sam, and any of the others who could come aboard, for a day's cruise up the coast. Margaret in the early evening had sent over into town for the two youthful mariachis, Felipe and Pan-cho. Pan-cho. to come out and play for us, which they obligingly did for a couple cou-ple of hours or so on the after deck. But Elsa was restless; this was not Reed Barton's playing and singing in the patio by moonlight which had stirred something in her heart; it was merely Mexican music without meaning. She got up and went below be-low before the boys had finished, leaning over to whisper in my ear before she left me: "Did you ever feel like a barometer, barome-ter, Barry? A change is coming." I slept on her remark and could make nothing of it and after breakfast break-fast as we stood again at the rail "Of all the dirty, cowardly leeches " looking off over the sparkling water of the bay which was emerging from a light fog, I asked: "Were you being prophetic last night. Elsa? About a change coming?" com-ing?" "Barry, you're too profound for me this morning. Oh, look! The launch is coming from shore." Nosing through drifting wisps of fog was the sharp prow of the launch. Elsa brightened amazingly, her face was keenly alert as she endeavored to identify its passengers. passen-gers. Interest after a moment suddenly sud-denly went out of her and she turned away. I saw Sam Chatfield in the launch, and Berta; and side by side the fat figure of Chesebro and Rumble, Rum-ble, the latter dressed in his incredible in-credible coat and huge black sombrero, som-brero, as congenial as a pair of disgruntled dis-gruntled clams. Elsa kissed her father and hugged Berta's small round person to herself her-self ecstatically, and stretched a hand out to Chesebro in greeting. "Didn't you bring Reed Barton with you, Jimmy?" she asked with a tone of petulance. Chesebro glanced sharply at her. "Barton hasn't got back from the mine. Probably won't until later on today." "But we can't go cruising without him." "Don't forget, Elsa," Chesebro chided her almost as if she were a child, "that Reed Barton is employed; em-ployed; he's got a job to do. Work comes before social diversions." "You always have such complete and satisfactory explanations, Jimmy," Jim-my," returned Elsa. Chesebro looked closely at her to see what lay behind the remark, and then strode down the deck to greet Dwight and Margaret who were emerging from the companionway. "Your Mexico always delights me, senora," I said to Berta, as the crowd at the ladder began to break up. George Rumble moved away with Elsa. Huntoon Rogers had come up from below and was talking with Sam Chatfield. Berta's dark eyes lighted up with pleasure; her white teeth flashed me a smile and she leaned a Dare wuW arm upon the rail. "That's because you know Mexico and understand it, Senor Madison." At that moment down the deck where Elsa and George Rumble were bent heads together over a section sec-tion of the Sunday paper he had brought on board, there came Elsa s voice so charged with emotion that it penetrated my heart like a knife. "Oh George!" she exclaimed. What's wrong with that, baby 7" returned Rumble matter-of-factly. He hurriedly folded up the paper, however. Elsa drew away from him. She shrank as if she had been struck a mortal blow, walked dazedly to the companionway and went below. Rumble watched her go. his face a puzzle, then as if dismissing the matter, tucked the paper under his arm and walked nonchalantly aft, leaving us all staring after him. staring, too, at the companionway down which Elsa had disappeared. Huntoon Rogers had drifted over to my side while this was happening. His nose and cheekbones still were red from the sunburn of the day before, be-fore, but his mild blue eyes were intent in-tent upon the retreating figure of Rumble. "What happened, Barry?" he Inquired. In-quired. "I don't know. Hunt. I can't imagine. imag-ine. Something serious, though, to judge from Elsa's reaction." "Let's go take a look at Rumble's paper." George Rumble continued retreating retreat-ing along the deck as we walked in his direction, a curious figure in brown slacks, incredible sports coat and the black sombrero. As he continued con-tinued along the deck, he, had the appearance of one endeavoring to walk away from disaster. Just as we were about to catch up with him. the fat figure of Chesebro, popping out of the doorway to the ship's lounge, waylaid him. Rumble paused, his sombrero tilting tilt-ing back as he looked up at the taller man. A curious expression was on Chesebro's dark face, an expression mingled of suspicions, resentment re-sentment and malevolence. Without speaking, he held his hand out imperiously im-periously for the newspaper. Rumble Rum-ble gave it to him and withdrew a step or two and stood watching Chesebro's fat hands unfold the rotogravure roto-gravure section. The main bulk of the paper was tucked under his arm, whence t fell promptly to the deck, the edges of its many sheets to be stirred gently by the morning breeze. Chesebro turned to an inside in-side page of the section, scanning its contents rapidly, while Rumble with gaze set like that of a small boy summoned to answer for his misdeeds, watched Chesebro. Chesebro of a sudden started; his whole fat figure tensed. A moment later he recovered, angrily folded the section, tore it once through the middle and threw it overboard. I followed its downward flutterings, saw it hit the water, and then my eyes traveled farther to a rowboat manned by a native in white cotton pants and straw sombrero. In the boat looking eagerly at us was Reed Barton. "Well?" said Rumble, licking his dry lips. "What do you think of it?" Chesebro was swelling with poisonous poi-sonous fury. His dark eyes had hardened to pinpoints of baleful light. He clenched his fists and Rumble Rum-ble moved warily a step backward. "You admit you're responsible for that picture in the paper?" "Sure, Chesebro; it's a swell piece of publicity for Elsa." Chesebro's arm flashed out, and Rumble ducked at the same time. The tall crown of the sombrero was caught by the flailing fist and the hat flew off, rolling along the deck until it came to rest at the rail. "Of all the dirty, cowardly leeches" "Don't you call me that!" Rumble assumed a fighting pose. "There's heart appeal in that picture " Huntoon Rogers' tall figure jammed between the two belligerents; belliger-ents; with a broad hand on the chest of each he shoved them vigorously apart. "Don't forget yourselves!" he said sharply. Chesebro dropped his hands and turned away, walking forward along the deck. Rumble glared after the fat, retreating back, looked up at Rogers who still stood as a barrier between him and his enemy, then strolled over to the rail, picked up his sombrero and set it back upon his oiled, curly head. 1 The danger of fisticuffs past, I gave my' attention to the approaching approach-ing rowboat which was now quite close. The torn halves of the rotogravure roto-gravure section floated on the water within reach of the passenger, who, having observed that something unusual un-usual was astir relating to them, reached over the side and gathered the pieces In, and brought them up the ladder with him. Rogers and I were there to greet him, and Dwight, too, whose curiosity curios-ity at what had happened still was unsatisfied. The others had disappeared. disap-peared. "I don't know what it's all about Barry," Reed said, giving the wet pieces to me. "The Chief certainly swung from the ankles on that Rumble Rum-ble person, Where's Elsa?" he inquired in-quired eagerly. "She's on board, isn't she?" "Ob, yes." T.rm tnnk the nieces 'of rarer nut"" - " a from me, carried them to a hatch cover and spread them methodically out for inspectioa The section was a part of Los Angeles Sunday newspaper that must have come down by train only the night before. Dwight was an interested spectator, specta-tor, and I crowded upon Rogers other oth-er elbow. Reed Barton was of two minds, one to seek Elsa, the other to discover what was so Interesting in the picture section. (TO BE CONTINUED) |