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Show ' Excitement Provided liy BARBARA BENEDICT A-ssorl.n tod Newspapers. WNU Feature. Vf RS. CORNELIUS L. DeWOLFE strolled one bright, sunny morning down the hedge-lined flagstone flag-stone walk that extended from the side terrace of the great DeWolfe estate, via flower garden, swimming pool, summer house, tennis court, greenhouse and lawn. At the gate, which shut out' the common world from the exclusiveness of the De-Wolfe De-Wolfe grounds, Mrs. Cornelius L. paused, was, in fact, about to turn and retrace her steps when her eye chanced to rest upon the gate latch. A feeling first of surprise, then of anger, then of faint alarm gripped her in respective succession. The gate was unlocked and was swingling swing-ling gently upon its hinges. Mrs. DeWolfe frowned, thinking of the exact ex-act words she would use when discharging dis-charging the gardener, Pierre, for his neglect. Trembling, pale of face, she returned re-turned to the privacy of her own grounds, securely locked the gate and hurried up the winding path. ;Near the flower garden she encountered encoun-tered Pierre, who, at sight of her, doffed his hat and waited respectfully respect-fully for the corpulent lady to catch her breath. "Pierre," she managed at last, "I have just made the most dreadful discovery! I found the gate unlocked un-locked and what do you suppose! v There's a chalk mark on the sidewalk side-walk in the lane beyond." j "I beg your pardon, ma'am?" i "A chalk mark, idiot! A cross-made cross-made with a piece of chalk. Have you no idea what that means? Pierre, it means this house . is marked! Marked, I tell you!" "Marked, ma'am? By whom?" ' "Gangsters, of course!" Mrs. De-Wolfe De-Wolfe was becoming fairly exasperated. exasper-ated. There had been a stirring account ac-count of the chalk mark method in the morning paper. "Don't you understand? un-derstand? Gangsters. They have picked our home as a likely prospect to rob. They know that Mr. DeWolfe is away for the week. They place a sign on the walk. Pierre, we are about to be robbed, possibly murdered!" mur-dered!" Mrs. DeWolfe eyed Pierre angrily, yet she would not be deterred from lending a bit of drama to the moment. mo-ment. "Pierre," she said with an expansive gesture, "hurry at once and warn Arturo. Tell him to arm himself and guard the gate with his life. After that you had better warn the remainder of the servants." ' Mrs. DeWolfe started briskly up the walk. Pierre replaced his hat, sighed deeply, shook his head and shuffled off in search of Arturo, the chauffeur. Pierre found the chauffeur polishing polish-ing the hood of Mrs.'DeWolfe's limousine. lim-ousine. "The old lady's at it again," he said, sitting down at the running board and tugging a pipe from his hip pocket. Pierre sighed and tamped tobacco into his pipe. "Oh, she found a chalk mark on the sidewalk outside the west gate. Thinks it's a sign put there by gangsters, and we're all to be murdered and robbed." "Well, of all the dumb, crazy, halfwitted, half-witted, notions I " Arturo stood erect and placed a hand on either hip. "Say, she's nuts!" "Oh, I dunno," Pierre struck fire to his pipe. "I dunno, Artie. Maybe May-be it's because we don't understand her. She's one of them kind of folks who likes exciting things; likes to be dramatic. Romantic, I guess you call it. And nothin' ever happens around here. Nothin.' Not a dang thing to satisfy that cravin' in her." Midnight came and went. The lights in the house had long since been extinguished. There was only stillness now, broken by the scarcely audible rustle of a gentle wind through the hedges. Suddenly Mrs. DeWolfe, watching from her darkened bedroom window, win-dow, emitted a gasp. She had seen near the west gate the skulking figure fig-ure of a man. The figure disappeared. disap-peared. Then abruptly the still night air was shattered by a shout. It was followed by the sound of running feet, the west gate opening, a revolver re-volver shot, a scream, a curse . . . silence. Thrilled beyond her wildest dreams, Mrs. DeWolfe rushed below stairs and flung open the west terrace ter-race door. A moment she stood there, breathing heavily. Pierre, his face streaked with blood, suddenly emerged into the circle of light, stopped at sight of her and doffed his hat, "Pierre! What happened?" "It was a gangster, ma'am. Arturo Ar-turo and I trapped him. He got away, but I don't think he'll come back right off." Mrs. DeWolfe clutched at her throat. "Pierre, you brave man! Tell me " her voice was soft and gentle, " are you hurt, Pierre?" "No, ma'am. Cut up a little. I'll go back to my room now an' wash up, if you don't mind, ma'am." Out in the gardener's cottage Pierre, too, was smiling. He washed the streaks of catsup from his cheeks and sighed contentedly, the sigh of a man whose duty has been well performed. per-formed. He sighed again and smiled, thinking of the account of the chalk mark method he had read in the morning paper. |