Newspaper Page Text
Mazaroff
Mystery
J.S.Fletchei-yj&ij
“She’ll liuvn to be sought for, air,’’
an Id Oorkerdale. He nudged Man
ners. “We'd better be doing some
thing, I think,’’ he murmured. “The
hotel first, eh?’’
Maythome turned to Bcdeshare.
"I suppose you're on the telephone?”
he said. "Just so!—let us ring up
Short’s and find out If Mrs. Elphin
stone has returned there.”
He went out Into the hall with Ec
cleshare; the rest of us waited until
tlielr return a few minutes later. May
thorne shook Ids head.
“No news!” he answered. “They
haven’t been back there —up to now.
But —as they set out from there 1
suppose that's the best base from
which to conduct operations?”
“We’re going there, anyway,” said
Corkerdale. “Mrs. Elphlnstone’s got
to he found! Perhaps Mr. Elphlnstone
will come with us?—we may hit on
some clew from something that’s been
left.”
We left the house. Outside, across
the street, Johnson was still loafing
about. He caught Maythome’s eye;
what Maytliorne did in the way of
signaling to him I did not make out,
hut Johnson loafed away, and still
further away, and faded out of sight.
“No need to keep that clmp hanging
round,” observed Maythome. “Now
for Cottlngley—l think I shall put Cot
tingley onto the track of Mrs. Elphin
stone —he’ll find her a lot quicker
than any professional police will.”
“Where’s he going to pick up a
clew?” inquired Crole, sarcastically.
“Leave that to Cottlngley!’’ retorted
Maythome. “He’ll see a clew where
no one else would. All he wants is
clear —and concise—instructions to
start out on.”
We found Cottlngley at the top of
the street. He was eating an apple,
in supplement to his lunch of bread
and cheese. Phlegmatic as ever, he
turned with us townrd the nearest
cab-rank, Maythome talking to him as
we went along.
“What next?” asked Crole as we
reached Edgware road again.
"I’m just, going round by Short’s
hotel,” answered Maythome, “to hear
If those chaps have made anything
out, and to give Cottingley a start.
Better come, both of you.”
“I won’t,” said Crole. “I must get
back to my office. I can do no good at
Short’s, and you can ring me up If
you’ve any news. Oh, by-the-bye,” he
added, as Maythome signaled to a
taxicab driver, “I forgot to mention it
before. Holt. Armlntrade’s check duly
arrived this morning. So that’s all
right, and I suppose we’ve finished
with his part In all these mysteries."
“Finished with nothing, Crole!” ex
claimed Maythome. “The curtain is
still up—well up!—on everything.
* Coming, Holt?—you’d better.”
I went with him. I was not so much
concerned about Mrs. Elphlnstone as
f about Sheila. That some new and
i very serious situation had arisen when
Sheila called on tier mother the pre
vious evening there could be no doubt
—nothing else, I was sure, could have
occasioned the strange departure and
disappearance of which Mr. Elphin-
Btone had told us. What was it?
It took little time to run round to
Short’s, a famous, if somewhat old
fashioned hotel In the West end, great
ly in favor with country family peo
ple. While we rode there Maythorne
occupied himself in posting up Cot
tingle.v in all our doings that morning,
and especially about the disappear
ance of Mrs. Elphlnstone. Cottlngley
soaked it all in without saying a word;
he was still eating apples, and he
munched them steadily while his em
ployer talked. But as Maythorne
made an end Cottlngley also finished
his last apple, and tossing the core
out of the cab window, rapped out a
word or two.
“Steamship offices I’’ he said. “Like
liest place, first.”
“flood!” assented Maythorne. “There
may be something in that. All right!
—you get on to it. But first, we’ll
see if anything’s turned up here.”
We left the cab a little way from
Short’s, and walked along towards the
principal entrance. Manners and Gor
kerdale were just coming out as we
reached it —I thought 1 saw in their
manner that they had heard some
thing.
“Well?" asked Maythorne ns we
joined them. “Any news?”
“Nobody’s returned,” replied Corker
duie, "and there's nothing in Mrs.
Elphinstone’s or the maid . rooms to
suggest why they > ver t away.
But we have heard a bil tl the old
gentleman hadn't found out when he
set off to you this morning.”
"What's that?” asked Maythorne.
“Odd circumstance, to ho sure!” nn
swered the detective. “I’d like to know
wiiat it means. ;;.>t it fi .ho under
hall • >ricr. lie s; • the\ o little
time after Mr. and Mrs. .. 'tinstone
and the in- i-1 ; ,1 last night—lie
knows all three well enough, lie says.
as they come there two or three times
a year—a man came into the entrance
hall and asked him if they—naming
them —were stopping there? lie said
they were, and he believed they were
then having dinner. The man went
away. But this under hall porter also
says that he noticed the same man
lianging about the hotel front after
that, and that he was there, as if
watching when Mrs. Elphlnstone and
her daughter and the maid went out—
in fact, he’s positive that the man fol
lowed them down the street and round
the first corner. And—that's all!”
“And a good lot!’’ remarked May
thorne. "Could he describe the man?”
“Oh, yes! A little, thin man, about
thirty or so; slight brown mustache,
wore spectacles; very respectably
dressed; wore a Trilby hat —looked
like a clerk or commercial traveler
something of that sort,” replied Cor
kerdale.
“Did he say anything to the under
hall porter ns to why he wanted i'.
Elphlnstones?" asked .Maythome.
“No —the man asked him if lie could
take up any message,” said Corker
dale. “He replied no—lt didn’t mat
ter: he wouldn’t disturb them i” tiiey
were at dinner; he’d look !n again.”
“And he didn’t look in again?”
“No—the last the under hall porter
saw of him, he was following the
three women down the street.”
Maythome remained silent for a
minute or two.
“Well,” he said at last. “I suppose
you’ll follow things up in your own
way. If I can be of any help, let me
know. If I hear anything, I'll let you
know, Corkerdale. May as well help
each other.” He turned away, Cot
tingley and I following him. After go
ing a short distance, lie motioned to
t lie clerk.
“Try your line —the shipping offices,
Cottingley,” he said. “May be some
good.”
Cottingley went off, and Maytliorne
and I walked on in silence for a
while.
“Tliis is a queer business, Holt!” he
said after some time. “That Mrs.
Elphlnstone is either guilty or is privy
lo somebody else's guilt seems dead
certain! But —where on earth has site
disappeared to? And when and where
are we going to get news of her?”
I got no more light on that problem
for more than two days. Nobody
heard anything, nobody discovered any
thing. I called continually at Short's;
Mr. Elphinstone, after being at his
wits’ ends, settled down to a sort of
philosophic calm, waiting. And noth
ing happened, until, on the third night
after the disappearance, Maytliorne
rushed up to my rooms and thrust an
evening newspaper before me.
“For God’s sake, Holt 1” he ex
claimed excitedly. “Read that!”
CHAPTER X
We Know That Man!
I snatched at the newspaper eagerly
enough: there was that in Maythorne’s
manner which showed me that here
was news of importance. I saw it at
sc*.$ c*. .fdPi
I Saw It at Once—There It Was, in Big
Letters in the Stop Press Space.
once—there it was. in big letters in
tiic stop-press space:
“About half past four this after
noon Mr. Kilthwaite, grocer of 623 x
Harrow road, having occasion to visit
a yard at tlie back of his premises,
in search for some crates stored
amongst a quantity of similar odds
and ends, came across the dead body
of a man which had evidently been
dragged across tlie yard through the
rear entrance and partly concealed by
loose timber. He at once summoned
EARLY COUNTY NEWS. BLAKELY. GEORGIA
the police, and on examination It was
found that the man had been mur
dered by repeated blows on the head
with some heavy instrument. He is a
man of presumably thirty years of
age, small of stature, of slight build,
wearing spectacles, the lens on the
right being shattered; he is respect
ably dressed, and a new trilby hat
was found lying beneath the body. He
had evidently been robbed after being
struck down, as there was nothing on
him in the way of money or valuables,
nor were there any papers that could
lead to identification; everything, In
fact, of this sort had been carefully re
moved, and the only articles found in
the clothing were a fountain pen and
two recently pointed lead pencils.
New Scotland Yard was at once com
municated with and detectives are
making a careful investigation. Any
one recognizing the dead man from
the foregoing description should at
once communicate with the police au
thorities.”
I laid the paper down and stared
inquiringly at Maythome. He slapped
his hand heavily on the paragraph I
had Just read.
“Holt!” he exclaimed. “That’s the
chap who followed those three women
away from Short's hotel the other
night! A million to one on it!”
“You think so?” I srld, incredulous
ly. “But —there are lots of men who'd
correspond to that description.”
“That’s the man! —I'll lay any
thing!” he declared. “And this thing’s
getting more of a mystery than ever.
Look at it! —Mrs. Elphinstone, her
daughter, and her maid, without a
word to Elphinstone, suddenly clear
out of Short’s late at night. They are
seen to he followed by a man who had
previously inquired if the Elphin
stones were staying at Short’s. They
never return, the women; from that
moment to t 4 his —all this time having
eiasped—seventy-two hours! nothing
whatever lias been heard of them.
And then this discovery is made —the
man who was seen to follow them is
found murdered —head battered to
pieces—and robbed! Now —why?”
“If he is the man!” I exclaimed.
“It'll surprise me more than I've
been surprised, so far,” he retorted,
“if lie isn’t the man. But we’ll soon
settle that. Come along—l’ve got a
taxi outside. We’ll go round by
Short’s, get hold of that under hull
porter, and go up the Harrow road.”
“To see —him?” Tasked.
“What else?” he answered. “Come
on!—you don't know what depends on
it. Nor—where those women are. In
danger, for anything we know.”
I went willingly enough, then.
Somehow, it had not struck me up to
that time that 'Sheila might be in real
danger: I had fancied, rather, that
she was probably assisting her mother
in flying from justice, or, at any rate,
from distasteful inquiries.
We rode round to Short’s, and after
some slight delay, carried off the un
der hall porter. Once in the cab again,
Maythome showed him the newspaper
description of the murdered man.
“Does that answer to the man you
saw following Mrs. Elphinstone three
nights ago?” he asked.
The under hall porter, a sharp-eyed
fellow, nodded.
“I should say it did, sir, myself,”
he answered. “Yes. it’s a good de
scription of him, taking it altogether.
It doesn’t mention that he’d a slight
brown mustache, though. If this dead
man has—”
“We shall soon see that,” said May
thorne grimly. “A few minutes —”
Mr. Kilthwaite’s grocer’s establish
ment was away up at the poorer end
of the Harrow road—a very modest
establishment, too, catering for a hum
ble class of customers. But when we
got out of our cab and walked towards
it, we found that for once at any rate
it was a center of vast interest, if not
of trade. The pavement outside was
thronged with people, and a posse of
policemen was engaged in getting them
to move away or move along, not over
successfully: two policemen stood at
the shop door, evidently with orders
to admit none but bona tide customers.
A word from Maythome procured us
instant admission, however, and we
entered —to find Manners and Corker
dale standing inside, in conversation
with the grocer, an excited and volu
ble person who was obviously retell
ing his story for the xth time. Cor
kerdale nodded significantly as May
thome advanced on them.
“Have you seen the man?” asked
Maythome.
“We haven’t, yet,” replied Corker
dale. “He’s at tlie mortuary, of course.
We’ll go round there. Well,” he con
tinued, turning to the grocer, “we’ll
look in again when we’ve been to the
mortuary, and perhaps you’ll show us
the premises where you found him?”
“Anything you please, Mr. Corker
dale,” replied the grocer, rubbing his
hands. “Always glad to assist the
police, sir. These gentlemen, I sup
pose, are in your line, too?”
“Bit that way,” answered Corker
dale, with a smile at Maytliorne.
“Well,” he went on, motioning us to
follow, “we’ll just step round —it’s
not far.”
He led us along the dismal road to
a still more dismal, if more spick-and
span building, the gloom and somber
ness of which was accentuated by its
air of officialism and formality. We
trooped one after the other, under the
guidance of a police constable, into a
whitewashed chamber. There, on a
center table or slab, was laid out,
stiffly evident under a white covering,
wlmt we had come to see. The police
constable began to turn hack the
sheet: Maytliorne motioned the un
der hall porter to go nearer.
"Look well! —see if you can identity
him,” whispered Maythome.
But the identifies.’cn did not come
from the under hall porter.
We had all crowded close to the
still figure; we all looked steadily at
the dead man’s face. And In that In
stant .Manners and 1, after a single
glance at it, turned sharply on each
other; a look of mutual understanding
flashed between us, and we let out the
same simultaneous exclamation.
“We know that man!”
The others turned on us, then, ques
tioningly.
“You know him—both of you!” ex
claimed Maytliorne. “Then, who Is
he?”
"Newspaper reporter from up our
way,” answered Manners. “Name of
Bownas. I don’t suppose you ever
saw him when you went up there —his
work was more to the other side of
Gilchester. But Mr. Holt here knew
him. That’s Bownas, right enough!”
“He came to see me, at the Wood
cock, with Manners, after Mazaroff’s
disappearance,” I said. “I saw him,
just once, afterwards —In Gilchester.
But that is Bownas, without doubt!”
“And murdered here in London!”
muttered Manners. “Good Lord! —
what's it mean! There’s more in
tli is—”
“A moment!” interrupted Maythome.
He turned on the under hall porter.
“Don’t make any mistake!” he said.
“Is that the man who came to Short’s
hotel, and whom you afterward saw
following Mrs. Elphinstone and her
daughter and the maid? Look well
at him, now!—be sure!”
But the hall porter shook his head
as much as to imply that all the look
ing in the world wouldn’t make him
surer.
“Oh, that’s the man!” he exclaimed.
“I knew him at once. There’s no doubt
about it! Recognized him as soon as
I set eyes on him. Os course, he’s
lost his color, but —”
We went out of the mortuary, and
into an office where there were more
officials. They evidently knew Cor
kerdale, and after a few minutes’
whispered conversation with him they
produced some clothing. Oorkerdale
immediately placed his finger on a
label with in the Triiby hat.
“That wasn’t mentioned in tlie news
paper account,” he said. “See —Bor-
der Clothing company, Carlisle. New,
too. Let me have a look at his other
things.” I stood by, watching curi
ously while Oorkerdale and Manners
and Maythome went through tlie dead
man's garments. They found but one
thing of any note —a tailor’s label
sewn within tlie inside breast pocket
of the coat, showing that the suit had
been made in Newcastle. It iiad a
date and a number on it, and Corker
dale remarked that there was a clew
to identification, if necessary.
“it’s not necessary,” remarked Man
ners. “I know the man well enough.
Bownas —reporter of the Tweed &
Border Gazette at Gilchester. And I’d
like to know what he was doing here!”
“What was he doing at Short’s
hotel?” suggested Maythome. “That’s
more like it Manners! But that’s ob
vious—he was after Mrs. Elphinstone.
He followed her, too, when she went
out. Where? Now, then, did she, and
her two companions, come to this
quarter of the town? If they did—
why? And where are they?”
“Let’s go back to tlie grocer’s,” said
Corkerdale.
We went out again into the gloomy
road. The under hall porter, having
done what was required of him was
anxious to go back to the hotel. May
tliorne sent him off in a taxicab: the
rest of us returned to Kilthwaite’s
shop. Maythome and I walked side
by side —at first in silence.
“What do you make of this, May
thorne?” I asked at last.
“God knows!” lie answered. “It
seems evident that the poor fellow
we’ve just seen followed the Elphin
stones —Mrs. Elphinstone, of course! —
to London, tracked them to the hotel,
went after Mrs. Elphinstone when she
went out that night, but —as to the
rest —”
“Do you think he followed them —
here?” I suggested. “If so, what could
they want in this neighborhood?”
“Shabby and sordid enough for any
thing, hereabouts, isn't it?” he an
swered, with a shrug of his shoul
ders. “Again I say—who knows?—
who knows anything? Let's have a
look at the place where lie was found,
however —we may get some idea of
something.”
The grocer took us through his shop
into his back yard. It was a dismal
place, all tlie more dismal because
that was an unusually fine spring eve
ning. It seemed to be a sort of dump
ing ground for boxes, barrels, chests,
old tins, crates, all tlie refuse of a
chandlery shop; and it was of some
extent, running from the back of the
premises to a high wall in which
there was a crazy door.
“Here’s where I found him!” whis
pered Kilthwaite in a half-awestruck
whisper. “I wanted some planking
out of this pile of old wood: I pulled
some r —frrm mere was a imnrs
arm! And then —well, then I found
the rest. I saw signs of a struggle.
But.” he added, “some of your people
that have been here already, Mr. Cor
kerdale; they say that there are clear
indications that he’d been dragged in
here, across the yard, from the door
there.”
“What’s outside that door and the
wall?” asked Corkerdale.
We all went to look. There was a
narrow, stone-paved lane there, run
ning from a side street between the
backs of the Harrow road houses and
those of some street or terrace set,
further back. It was fenced in by
high walls for all its length: there
were only two feeble gas lamps to
light it; it was dark, silent.
“One of your men says there are
bloodstains on the stones —just there!”
whispered the grocer. “Os course,
you know, I never heard anything—
and I’ve not heard, either, of any
body who did so far.”
We went back to tlie shop and stood
discussing the matter and its proba
bilities for some little time. Then the
grocer’s telephone hell rang. He went
to answer it, and looked round at us.
“If one of you gentlemen’s Mr. May
thome,” he said. “He’s wanted.”
Maythome crossed over and took
up the receiver. A moment Inter, he,
too, turned on us.
“From the under hall por’;er!” he
exclaimed. “Mrs. Elphinstone and
Miss Merchisou are back!”
(continued next week.)
CITATION.
GEORGIA —Early County:
To all whom it may concern:
S. G. George having in proper form
applied to me for Permanent Let
ters of Administration on the estate
of Maria Gilbert, late of said county,
this is to cite all and singular the
creditors and next of kin of Maria
Gilbert to be and appear at my of
fice within the time allowed by law,
and show cause, if any they can,
why permanent administration should
not be granted to S. G. George on
said estate.
Witness my hand and official
signature, this 2nd day of June,
1930.
H. H. GRIMSLEY, Ordinary.
CITATION.
GEORGIA —Early County:
To whom it may concern:
Mrs. Ruby Lee Justice, of said
county, having applied to me for
letters of administration with the
will annexed, on the estate of Mrs.
Fannie Barnett, deceased, this is to
cite all persons interested to be and
appear at the July term, 1930, of
the Court of Ordinary of said coun
ty, to show cause, if they can, why
letters of administration with the
will annexed, should not be granted
to said Mrs. Ruby Lee Justice on
said estate.
This June 3rd (term), 1930.
H. H. GRIMSLEY, Ordinary.
No. 1 can Tomato Juice 10c
No. 2 can Fancy Asparagus i 25c
1 lb. Dried Peaches, Apricots, Apples 20c
Distilled Vinegar, 1 gallon 35c
Pickling Spices, all kinds 10c
Fresh Vegetables Daily Lettuce, Cel
ery, Tomatoes, Corn, Green Peas,
Squash, Beets, Cucumbers, Carrots,
Turnips, String Beans, etc.
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Blakely Chapter 44
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at 8 o'clock. Visiting
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