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Show Kllp SOMBREROPik s PilmT-TCLIFFORD KNIGHT M rtatflcW. Hollywood artist, ,1$ cut tua will of her Aunt Kitty, who to , overdose of morphine. Bar-& Bar-& ,matur detccUve, and nunt lloe-IT- .r0fesslonal sleuth, to to Mazat- mIco, on a yacht cruise with Mar-' Mar-' od Dwlcht Nichols. Arriving at (j'li they tod thal E,sa and ner tfhive preceded them by plane. Sdlne at the rancho of Elsa's fa- Sim Chatfield, whom Rogers ques-' ques-' iboat his visit to his sister, Kitty, t Bis" she died. The next day i.Ld tosses a rotogravure section the but 019 P,ece re Picked Reed Barton, who elves them "jorer. Chatfleld is very Indignant tte incident. CHArTER VI -Here it is," said Dwight. pointing. yes," said Rogers. I leaned farther forward to see te picture. It was a reproduction jj a photograph of Elsa; the lov-.ble lov-.ble personality shone up from the mv surface. Unmistakably it was rua at her provocative, impish best Hat, of course, was as it should be; jut the staggering, incomprehensible incomprehensi-ble part of it all was the child on her jjp. A child apparently about a rjar old, seeming normally healthy td lovely, and, like all babies, a yptivator of the heart. Underneath $a picture were the lines: "Elsa ftalficld, whose caricatures have re-(Quy re-(Quy won wide acclaim, and her gusli daughter Mary Frances." "Well that's that, I guess." "Yes," said Rogers, picking up fcs tom sheet, and starting below to his stateroom. "Barry" he began. "I I don't ddersiand It." "Neither do I, Reed." Here were many things In that tfrange story not understood until it end. The cruise in the Orizaba fanned for that day was abandoned; aban-doned; the yacht lay idly at her anchor. an-chor. There was no fishing. "What do you make of it. Plight?" I inquired after lunch that jaj. Dwight Nichols shook his head. The whole thing is impossible, ftt child has been dead now several pars three or four." "But how could such a mistake It made?" asked Margaret, her dirk eyes very earnest. "Mistakes can usually be ex-fiiined," ex-fiiined," Rogers reminded her. "I ice say George Rumble, to whom n must look for the answer, has a : Tery natural explanation. That, i course, is aside from other aspect! as-pect! Of the thing. " Here's a family Rcret closely guarded for years, ibout, which neither Elsa nor her Iithcr would talk, broadcast to the . ;Mc-" "Did Sam Chatfield see the pic-tsreT" pic-tsreT" Margaret interrupted. Rogers shook his head. "I have It In ray stateroom. Exhibt A, so to speak, although there are liter-illy liter-illy thousands of them in existence &ewhere. In Southern California, towever; not here in Mazatlan." m But it was not until the morning f the following day that we ran tcrwa George Rumble. We discov-1 discov-1 him in the last place we ex- ! jetted to find him at Sam ; Chat-Wffi Chat-Wffi rancho, sitting idly in the alio Indifferent to the little green Wrakeets screaming in the gnarled 4 pepper tree overhead while he - pited for Elsa. The shirt of pink W white checks was absent, but in ' I place was a companion of blue U white. J"Some of us have been wonder- jjl where you got that picture of f " and the baby," said Rogers. I "I knew somebody would ask that JeU" his dark little eyes watched I movements of a young Indian fcj m she came out of a doorway, )Jked straight and slim through J Pttlo and disappeared into the Mchen-'there's lots of ways to get picture.", "Ela didn't give n you." "No." i Tou understand, Rumble," I be-to be-to "there's only one conclusion to jwn, after seeing how Elsa re-Ipfd re-Ipfd yesterday when she saw the "re in the paper." wl--lraw it, Barry, if you want .j th ,ay anytnine to Etea about t I? Vm EoIng t0 do she won,t let to. .She'11 be Koing against her 4 test Interests by telling me I f do it When you start with a m SJfcigent' you ouht to leave lt jj aWa hands. Elsa'd be just like 2 nu,Unt,tht one died- Eh' t 2 tte: 'No yu can' do that 5 EL?'1 d0 1 wblt 1 " I paper So I says to her Ittw : ,Wby'n heck yu w IJ1.'" going to run It? That L CV.W mad and she kicked me rfcl L " b oouse, and I never did I money, either," vff Rogers nor I said any- V mv! mornent as we reflected (1 "elation. . wJXJPew Elsa's aunt-Kather-Chitrleld?" Viu.7 1 cw her. She was a l flr ftnd 110 mistake. She was " Wt" I had in Calilornia 7 t5,me out" New York. I ntf 67 wcre putting on some Pasadena; she ' 4u,e "naan I Co to see her JH t,'ya okeh nnd we 8tDrt 10 "tot frS? We Etart fighting, too. f'Cy1 1 don,t et I teu v g0 t0 BCe her about 4 that 7e5 rm eoIn 10 sue hcr V: ttbi.T8111 She dIcs- That's the " ever saw the picture of Elsa and the baby, when we're setting set-ting one day at the old gal's desk looking up some stuff she wants to give me. The next time I see it I Pick it up in Elsa's apartment in Hollywood when I am planning my campaign for Elsa, the names are on the back: Elsa and Mary Fran-ces." Fran-ces." "How aid you know lt was her daughter?" asked Rogers. "Her aunt told me that first time when I saw the picture. I asked who it was. That's why I remember it a year later when I can use the picture, see?" "Didn't you know that the child was dead?" "Dead? The baby?" Rumble echoed, ech-oed, slightly aghast "No, I didn't know that It ain't none of my business where the baby is, understand, under-stand, and I don't ask. All I'm looking for is something with heart interest, see? Dead," he mused. "Well that gives me an idea; we can correct that I'll get the boys at the office in Los Angeles to run a little piece you know, unfortunate mistake; picture of brilliant young caricaturist published last week with child Say, that's fine! We'll crack 'em again. I tell you it don't make no difference what you run, so long as you keep hammering away at it" Rumble's thoughts were busy with future publicity, while Rogers sat Elsa seemed to be flying for her life. with a curious look in his mild blue eyes regarding this strange member mem-ber of that great and honored body of men who direct a nation's thought and whim. "You say that Katherine Chatfield died that night after you threatened to sue her for your money?" asked Rogers. "Yes. I don't, call till after dinner, din-ner, see? This guy Elsa's poppa and his Mexican wife arrived while I was still talking with the old gal in her study. They don't know me now, but I don't forget people. The Chatfield wisMan gets sore as heck when they coAie in, and jumps up and slams the door. I thought she was going to have a stroke. Maybe I'd have got my money out of her, if she hadn't been so mad when she sees them out in the halL" "Do you know anything about the death of Miss Chatfleld?" "What do you mean, Hunt?" "I mean do you know of what or how she died?" "I don't know anything, except Ttrhat I read in the papers the next day. They said it was suicide. Why?" "Has it ever occurred to you that It might have been murder?" For a long moment George Rumble gazed at Rogers without . speaking. Rogers Rog-ers added: "When did you leave the house that night?" "About nine o'clock." "She was alive then?" "What are you getting at?" "The woman war murdered; can you tell us anything about It?" "I didn't do it I left her itill alive. There wasn't any reason for me to kill her. She owed me money, mon-ey, and we had a row, and I threatened threat-ened to sue, and she tried to kick me out, and I says: 'No you don't, old girl; there ain't no woman going to kick me out of any house. I'm a gentleman and I'll walk out like one.'" , , We fell silent for a few minutes while overhead in the old pepper tree the little green parrakeets scolded and shrilled. "I wish you could help us out about that night George," observed Rogers casually. "I wish I could too. Hunt. "Did anything arouse your suspicions suspi-cions while you were there; anything any-thing that would lead you to believe that Miss Chatfleld was about to be murdered?" ,r ... "No-o. I guess not. You see ft . t a year and a half, elmos t, since that happened; and the thing I re- member, of course, is the 'row 1 had with her." Conversation lagged; we had exhausted ex-hausted all that was obvious in the affair. "Do you know where Elsa is?" Rogers inquired of a sudden. . "All I know is that some guy a Mex, who speaks English said when I first came out that she had gone out horseback riding." "Alone?" "I didn't ask." We had had our talk with George Rumble; the explanation. of the picture pic-ture in the rotogravure section had been made, and I was ready to return re-turn to town. But Rogers . was inclined in-clined to linger, although we had discovered that neither Sam Chatfleld Chat-fleld nor Berta was at home and there seemed no object in remain-In2- "You don't know, of course, when Elsa is expected back?" inquired Rogers of Rumble. "No, I don't Hunt." Rogers got up from the patio bench and began a leisurely examination exami-nation of the flowers an the riot of tropical shrubbery. Finally he pushed open an old grilled gate which led to a graveled courtyard, or bare plaza. The huge house formed one side of the open square. A long low line of adobe buildings with barred windows housed the office' of-fice' of the ranch and the storehouses, store-houses, a third side was the living quarters of the ranch workers, the fourth that of the stables. I followed Rogers, leaving Rumble Rum-ble sitting alone, smoking a brown paper cigarette in solitude. As we sauntered toward the stables, the actions of a man in the courtyard, near a gate which opened upon the fields of the rancho, drew our attention. atten-tion. He was stooping above the form of a brown dog lying on the ground. As we drew near he emptied emp-tied the contents of a bottle upon a dirty rag and held It to the dog's nose, and the dog quivered slightly as if from a chill , "The dog Is old," said Rogers in Spanish. "Very old, sir," the man replied, looking up sadly. "It Is best that he should die now, sir." He caught a whiff of something and turned his head away. "Chloroform," I said to Rogers. "Yes," he answered, and stooped to pick up the empty bottle the man had discarded. "He'll die quickly," he said to the executioner. . "Yes, sir. Senora Chatfield would not have him shot" "She said'thls was merciful." "The senora gave you the drug?" "Yes, sir. . Do you think the dog Is dead, sir?" "Not yet, but soon." While I was standing there, gazing gaz-ing at this odd scene, my ears picked up the sound of hoof beats. For a moment or two their source was not apparent. I walked through the gate and out Into the open away from the stables. Rogers followed me. Across the wide fields along an unpaved ranch roadway leading to the house, came pounding a horse and rider as if in a tremendous hurry hur-ry to arrive. A hundred yards or so behind was a second horseman following in the wake of the other. As they came nearer in their mad race, I made out the figure of Elsa astride the .leading horse, .and on the other Chesebro. Elsa seemed to be flying for her life; she was leaning far over .the neck of her mount and applying a short quirt in vicious mechanical strokes, her arm rising and falling as if geared to the flying hoofs of her horse. They .. drew rapidly toward us. Elsa, .looking back over her shoulder, shoul-der, of a sudden sat erect and reined in her horse. There was something very intent about her every action. She had not discovered us, standing stand-ing as we were beside the huge wheel of an old oxcart. She was intent in-tent upon Chesebro now reining up at her side. She sat quietly astride her horse which, with heaving flanks, was uneasy and nervous after the run- Rogers grunted half in astonishment astonish-ment at something, half in warning to me; he seemed to sense what was about to happen. For there was something deadly in Elsa's firmly seated figure, in the way she held herself In readiness. Chese-bro's Chese-bro's restless horse sidled close to Elsa's. Chesebro's hand was extended extend-ed as if hi expostulation. In protest, pro-test, in appeal to an . iron something some-thing In Elsa. It (was all too apparent now that Elsa had not so much been flying for her life as running away from a situation that had angered her, and had now thought better of it and was decided upon action. That action ac-tion was so swift so startling and so cruel that I gasped, scarcely able as I was to follow the figure that stiffened In the stirrups, the arm that rose and fell like lightning. The lash of the short quirt which Elsa only few moments before bad used upon her horse struck Chesebro across the face. I still can remember the sound of It can see the white line it left along his fat cheek. Elsa's horse reared. She clung to the saddle without touching the pommel, so intent was she upon the object of her wrath. Chesebro's Chese-bro's horse whirled about but didn't bolt; the man was dazed, bewildered bewil-dered by the blow. (TO BE CONTINUED) |
