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By
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CHAPTER I.
A Strang* Death.
■■ U* room was the typical bedroom
at the! typical better-olas« boarding
hOBtte, furnished, so far as It was fur
nished at all, with a severe simplicity.
It eontalned two beds, a pine chest of
drawers, a strip of faded carpet, and a
amah stand.
All these things might have been
••eased at from the other side of the
Closed door. But there wbr that on
the floor which set this room apart
from a thousand rooms of the same
kind.
Flat on his back, one leg twisted
•Mly over the other, his hands
Clenched and his teeth gleaming
through his black beard In a horrible
grin, Capt. John Gunner stared at the
Celling with eyes that saw nothing.
Until a moment before he had had
the little room to himself. But now
two people were standing .lust inside
the door, looking down at him.
One was a large policeman, who
twisted his cap nervously in his hands.
The other was a tall, gaunt old wom
an in a rusty black dress, who gazed
With pale eyes at the dead man.
Her face was quite expressionless.
The woman was Mrs. l'ickett, owner
Of the Excelsior hoarding house. The
policeman’s name was Grogau. He
wus a genial giant, a terror to the riot
ous element of the Bong Island water
front, hut obviously 111 at ease ha the
presence of death.
He drew In his’brenth with a curl-
OOS*hlHHlng sound, willed his forehead,
end whispered: "Would you ’look at
his eyes, ma’am!”
Mrs. Pickett did not answer. She
had not spoken since she had brought
the polloemon Into the room.
Officer Grogan looked at her quickly
from the corner of his eyes. He was
•fraId of Mother rkkett, as was every-
hody else along the water front
Her silence, her pale eyes, end the
qplet formidableness of her personal
ity cowed even the tough old salts who
patronized the Excelsior. She was a
queen In that little community of
eellormen.
“You’ve phoned for the doctor,
■Ut’amt”
Mrs. Pickett nodded.
The breeze, blowing In through the
AgCB window, brought With It the
pound of noisy laughter. A cheerful
TOlce beHowed a popular sopg.
PThat’a Just how I found him,” said
Jim. Pickett. She did not speak loud
ly, but her voice made the policeman
m^Jart.
He wiped his forehead again.
"It might have been apoplexy,” he
hazarded.
Mrs. Pickett said nothing.
"Some guys drop in their tracks on
Account of a bum heart,” he went on.
"There’s no marks on him.”
The old woman did not answer, , .
T .ere was a sound of footsteps out
side. A young man entered, carrying
a black hag.
"Good morning, Mrs. Pickett. What’s
fhe~- Good heavens 1”
- Ha dropped to his knees beside the
(tody and raised one of the arms. He
lowered It gently to the floor and
Ahaok his bend.
"Been deutl for hours. When did
yon And him?”
"Twenty minutes hack," said the old
woman. ”1 guess he died last night.
Ha sever would be called in the morn*
iBf. JSnid he liked to sleep on. Well,
he's pot his wish.”
44 What did he die of, docW asked
the policeman.
•‘Impossible to «Fay without an ex-
pmiiffation. It looks, like apoplexy, but
It isn't. It npRlit be heart ’disease, hut
I happen to know the poor fellow’s
heart was as sound as a bell. He
colled in to see me only n week ago,
and I tested him thoroughly. Lord
knows whut it is! The coroner’s in-
guest will tell us.”
He eyed the body almost resent
fully.
4, It beats me," he said. “The man
had no right to drop dead like this. He
was a tough old sailor, who ought to
have been good for another twenty
years. If you ask me, though I can’t
possibly be certain till after the in
quest, I should say be had been poi-
foned.”
'’For the love of retel” exclaimed
Ofllcer Grogan.
"How would he be poisoned?” asked
lira. Pickett.
“That’s more than I can tell you.
There's no glass about that he could
hgve drunk It from. He might have
got It In capsule form. But why
gbould he have done It? He was al-
waya a pretty cheerful sort of old
•isn, wasn’t he?” •
•'Bure 1” said Officer Grogan. "He
had the name of being a champion
Josber In.these parts.. I’ve had guys
come to me all raw from being mixed
Up In arguments with him. He bad
A way with him. Kind of sarcastic,
though he never tried It on me.”
"This man must have died quite
early last night,” said the doctor.
"What’s become of Captain Muller?
If he shares this room he ought to be
Aide to tell us something about it”
"Captain Muller spent the night
with some friends at Brooklyn," said
lira. Pickett “Me wasn't here from
after supper.”
The doctor looked round the room,
frowning.
"i don’t like It. I can’t understand
It If this had happened In India I
should have said the man had died
from some form of snake-bite. I was
out there two years, and I've seen a
hundred cases of It. They all looked
Just like this. The thing’s ridiculous.
How could a man be bitten by a snake
In a water-front boarding house? The
whole thing’s mad. Was the door
locked when you found him, Mrs.
Pickett?"
Mrs. Pickett nodded.
"I opened It with my own key. 1
had been calling to him, and he didn’t
answer, so 1 'guessed something was
wrong.” —
The policeman spoke:
“You ain’t touched anything, ma'am ?
They’re always mighty particular
about that. If doc's right, and there’s
been any funny work here, that’s the
first thing they’ll ask.”
“Everything Is Jnst as 1 found It."
"What's that on the floor beside
him?"
“That’s his harmonica. He liked to
play It of an evening ln'his room. I’ve
had complaints about It from some of
the gentlemen; but I never saw any
harm, so as he didn't play too late.” _
"Seems as if he was playing It when
—It happened. That don’t look much
like suicide, doc.”
"I didn't say It was suicide.”
Officer Grogan whistled.
“You don’t think—’’
"I don’t think anything—till after
the inquest. All 1 say Is that It's
queer.”
Another aspect of the matter
seemed to strike the policeman.
"I guess this ain't going to help
the Excelsior any, ma’am," he said
sympathetically.
Mrs. Pickett shrugged her shoulders.
Silence fell upon the room.
* ”1 suppose I had better telephone to
the coroner,” said the doctor.
He went out, and after a momentary
pause the policeman followed him.
Officer Grogan was not greatly trou
bled with nerves, but he felt a decided
desire to be somewhere where he
could not see those staring eyes.
Mrs. Pickett remained where she
was, looking down at the dead man.
Her face was still expressionless, but
Inwardly she was in a ferment. This
was the first time such a thing as this
had happened at the Excelsior, and,
ns Officer Grogan had hinted, It was
not likely to increase the attractive
ness of the house In the eyes of pos
sible boarders.
However well established the repu
tation of a house may he for comfort
and the excellence of Its cuisine, if it
Is a bonse of tragedy, people, for a
time at any rate, will look askance
Mr. Snyder himself, in conmiou
with moat of his assistants, relied for
results on hard work and Plenty of
common sense. He had never been a
detective of the showy type. Results
had Justified bis methods, but he was
perfectly aware that young Mr. Oakes
looked on him ps a dull old man who
had been miraculously favored by luck.
Mr. 8nyder had selected Oakes for
the case In hapd principally because
It was one where inexperience could
do no harm, and where the brilliant
guesswork which the latter called bis
inductive reasoning might achieve an
unexpected success.
It was one of those bizarre eases
which call for the dashing amateur
Vather than the dogged rule-of-thumb
professional.
Hr. Snyder had, moreover, a kind
of superstitious faith In the luck of
the beginner.
Another motive actuated Hr. Sny
der Ip his choice. He had a strong
suspicion that the conduct of this case
was going to have the beneficial result
of lowering Oakes’ self-esteem.
If failure achieved this end, Mr.
Snyder felt that failure, though It
would not help the agency, would not
be an unmixed ill.
The door opened and Oakes en
tered tensely. He did everything tense
ly. partly from a natural nervous
energy, and partly as a pose. He
was a lean young man, with dark eyes
and a thin-lipped mouth, and looked
as like a typical detective as Mr.
Snyder looked like a comfortably pros
perous stock broker.
Mr. Snyder had never bothered him
self about the externals of his profes
sion. One could imsgine Mr. Snyder
in his moments of leisure watching a
ball game or bowling. Oakes gave the
Impression of having no moments of
leisure.
"Sit down, Oakes," said Mr. Sny
der. “I’ve got a Job for you.”
Oakes sank into a chair like a
crouching leopard and placed the tips
of his fingers together. He nodded
curtly. It was part of his pose to be
keen and silent.
“I want yon to go to this address”
—he handed him an envelope—“and
look around. Whether you will find
out anything, or whether there's any
thing to find out, Is more than I can
say. When the old lady was telling
me the story I own I was carried qway.
She made it convincing. She thinks
It was murder. I don’t know what to
think.”
“The facts?” said Oakes briefly.
Mr. Snyder smiled quietly to him
self.
“The address on that envelope Is
fit a boarding honse on the water
front, down In long Island. You know
Jhe sort Of place—retired sea-captains
and so on. . '
“All most respectable.' Don’fc run
BoardIng-Hnuee and du YetW Hit It
put things straight. I would suggest
that you pose ss a ship’s, chandler or
something of that sort. Yon wilt have
to do something maritime or they’ll
get on to you.
“And If your visit produces np other
results, it will at least enable you to
make the acquaintance of a very re
markable woman. I commend Mrs.
Pickett to your notice. By the way,
she says she will help you in your In
vestigations.”
Oakes laughed shortly. The idea
amused him.
"Don’t you scoff at amatenr as
sistance, my boy,” said Mr. Snyder In
the fatherly manner which had made
a score of criminals refuse to believe
him a detective until the moment
when the handcuffs snapped on their
wrists. "Detection Isn’t an exact
science. It’s a question of using com
mon sense and having a great deal
of special information. Mrs. Pickett
probably knows a great deal which
neither you nor I know, and lt’s’-just
possible that she may have some trivial
piece of knowledge which will prove
the key to this mystery."
Oakes langhed again.
“It Is very kind of Mrs. Pickett,
but I think I prefer to trust to my
•own powers of deduction.”
“Do Just what you please, but rec
ollect that a detective is only a man,
not an encyclopedia. He doesn’t know
everything and it may he Just some
small thing which he does not know
which turns out to be the misslog let
ter in the combination.”
Oakes rose. His face was keen and
purposeful.
“I had better be starting at once,”
he said. ’1 will mail you reports from
time to time.”
“I shall be Interested to read them,”
said Mr. Snyder genially. “I hope
your visit to the Excelsior will be
pleasant. If you run across a man with
a broken nose, who used to rejoice In
the name of Horse-Face Simmons
give him my hest. I had the pleasure
of sending him up the road some years
ago for highway robbery, and I under
stand that he has settled In those
parts. And cultivate Mrs. Pickett; she
is worth while.”
The door closed, and Mr. Snyder
lighted a fresh cigar.
“D d young fool,” he murmured,
and turned his mind to other matters.
CHAPTER III.
•t It- awav with the Idea that I’m sending
It was not the possible pecuniary}^ ^ melodram , t | C bell’a-klteh-
cn where the guests are drugged an<T
shanghaied on thq day of their arrival.
"As far as I ean gather, this place
Is a sort of male Martha Washington,
In all Its history nothing more sensa
tional has happened than a case of
suspected cheating at pinocle. Well, a
man has died there.”
"Murdered?”
"I don’t know. . That’s for ypu to
And out. The coroner left it open. I
don’t see how It could h^ve been mur
der. The door was locked; nobody
could have got In.”
’The window?”
•The window was open. But the
room la on *the first floor. And, any-
loas which was troubling Mrs. Pickett.
As far aa money was concerned, she
could have retired from business years
before and.lived comfortably on her
savings. She was richer than those
who knew her supposed.,
It was the blot on the escutcheon
of the Kxcelstof—tile Stain on the Ex-
Ceislor’a reputation—which was tor
menting her.
The Excelsior was her life. Start
ing mnny years before, beyond the!
memory of the oldest boarder, she]
had built np this model establishment,
the fame of which had been carried
to every corner of the world.
In saloons and places where sailor-
men gathered together from Liverpool!
to Yokohama, from Cape Town to 1
Marseilles, the reputation of Pickett’s
waa-ofipure gold. Men spoke of It as
a place where you were well fed,
cleanly housed, and where petty rob
bery was unknown.
Such was the chorus of praise from
end to end Of the world, that It is not
likely that much harm could come to
Pickett’s, from a single mysterious
death; but Mother Pickett was not
consoling herself with such reflections.
She was wounded sore. Pickett’s
had had a clean slate; now it had not.
That was the sum of her thoughts.
. She looked at the dead man with
pale, grim eyes. , From down the pas
sage came the doctor’s voice as he
spoke on the telephone.
CHAPTER II.
Detective Oakes.
The office of the Paul J. Snyder De
tective agency had growh in the course
of half a dozen years from a single
room to a palatial suite full of pol
ished wood, clicking typewriters, and
other evidences of success. Where
once Mr, Snyder had sat and waited
for clients and attended to those
clients on the rare occasions when
they’ arrived in person, he now sat in
his private office and directed a corps
of assistants.
His cap was no longer in his hand,
and his time at the disposal of any
who would pay a modest fee. He was
an autocrat who accepted or refused
cases at nis pleasure.
He-had just accepted a case. It
seemed to him a case that might be
nothing at all or something exceeding
ly big; and on the Jutter possibility he
had gambled.
The fee offered was, judged by his,
present standards of prosperity, small;
but the'bizzare facts, coupled with
something In the personality of the
client,- had. won him over; and he
touched the bell and desired that Mr.
Oakes should be sent In to him.
Elliott Oakes was a young man who
amused and interested Mr. Snyder.'
He was so intensely confident. He
had only recently joined the staff, but
he made Very .little secret of his In
tention of electrifying and revolution
Icing the methods of the agency.
Good All-Wool Suits and
Overcoats For Less
Than $50.00
(Says Bob)
way, you may-dismiss the window,
remember the old lady saying there
was a bar across It, and that nobody
could have squeezed .through.”
Oakes’ eyes glistened. He was In
terested. . -
“What was the cause of^eath?”
Mr. Snyder coughed.
"Snake-bite,” he said.
Oakes' careful calm deserted him.
He uttered a cry of astonlsliment.
“What 1"
“It’s the literal truth. The medical
examination proved that the fellow
had been killed by snake poison. To
be exact, the poison of a snake known
as the krait. In this Long Island
boarding house, in a room with a
locked door, this man was stnng by a
krait,. I.t’s a small snake, found prin
cipally In India.
“To add a little mystification to the
limpid simplicity of the affair, when
the door was opened there was no
sign of any snake. <
“It couldn’t have got out through
the door, because the door was locked.
It couldn’t have got np the chimney,
because there was no chimney. And
It couldn’t have got out of the window,
because the window wus-too high up,
and snakes can’t jump. So there you
have it.”
He looked at Oakes with a certain
quiet satisfaction. It had come to his
ears that Oakes had been heard to
complain of the Infantile simplicity,
unworthy of a man of his attainments,
of the last two cases to which he had
been assigned, and had said that he
hoped some day to be given a problem
which Bhould be beyond the reasoning
powers of a child of six.
It seemed to Mr. Snyder that be had
got what he wanted.
“I should like further details,”, said
Oakes a little -breathlessly.
“You had better apply to Mrs.
Pickett, who owns the boarding-house.
It was she who put the case in . my
handB. She convinced me that It is
murder. But, excluding ghosts, I
don’t see how any third party could
have taken a hand In the thing at all.
However, she wanted a man from this
agency, and was prepared to pay for
him, so I said I wopld send one. It'B
not for me to turn business away.
“So, as I said, I want you to go
and put up at Mrs. Pickett's Excelsior
Flat Up Against It,
A day later Mr. Snyder sat In his
office reading a typewritten manu
script. It appeared to be of a humorous
nature, for as he read chuckles es
caped him. Finishing.the last sheet,
be threw back his head and langhed
heartily.
The manuscript had not'bceu Intend
ed by Its author .for a humorous effort
Whnt Mr. Snyder had been reading
was the first of Elliott Oakes’ reports
from the Excelsior. It was as follows:
"I am sorry to be unable |o report
any real progress. I have formed sev
eral theories, which I ,wlll put forward
later, but up to the present I cannot
say that I am hopeful.
"Directly I arrived here I sought out
Mrs. Pickett, explained who.I.wss, and
requested her to furnish me with any
further information which might be
sf service to me.
“She Is a strange, silent woman, who
Impressed me 1 ns having very little
Intelligence. Your suggestlhn that I
should avail myself of her assistance
In unraveling this mystery seems more
curious than ever now that I have
se#n her.
“She is a hard-working woman, who
certainly conducts this boarding house
with remarkable efficiency, < but l
should not credit her with brains. She
never speaks except when-spoken to,
and even then is curt to the point of
unlntelllglbiltty. .
“However, I managed to extract
from her a good deal of Information,
which may or may not prove nsefnl.
“The jvhole affair seems to me at
the moment of writing quite inexpli
cable. Assuming that this Captain Gun
ner was murdered,, there appears to
have been no motive for the crime
whatsoever. s
“I have made careful inquiries
about him,, apd find that he was a man.
of fifty-five; "had spent nearly forty
years ofTtlSMIfe St- sea, the last dozen
in command of his own ship; was of
somewhat overbearing and tyrannous
disposition, though with a fund of
rough humor; had traveled all over
the world; and had been an inmate of
the Excelsior for about ten months.
. “He had a small annuity, and no
other money at all, which 1 disposes of
money ns the motive of tlfe crime.
"In my character of James Burton,
a retired ship's, clihndler, I have mixed
with the other boarders, and have
heard all they have to say about the
affair.
“I gather-that the deceased was by
no means popular. He appears to have
had a bitter tongue, and was not spar
ing in its use, and I have not met one
man who seems to regret his death.
“On the other hand, I have heard
nothing which would suggest that he
had, any active and violent enemy. He
was simply "the unpopular boarder—
there Is always one In every boarding
house—but nothing* more.
"I have seen & good deal of the man
who shared his room. He, too. Is a
sea-captain, by name-Muller. He is a
big, silent German, and it is not easy
to get him to talk on any subject.
"As regards the death of Captain
Gunner, he can tell me nothing. It
seems that on the night of the tragedy
be was away at Brooklyn with some
fviends. A11 I have got from him is
some Information as to Captain Gun
ner’s habits, which leads nowhere. The
dead man seldom drank except at
(Continued next week)
I am not going to recite
a poem or make a speech
—only proclaiming my
prices on All-Wool, styl
ish Suits and Overcoats.
If you are laboring un
der the impression that
you have to pay more,
then read my prices and
come to see me. “The
proof of the pudding is
the eating,” you know.
O V E RCOATS
and SUITS
$32.50, $35.00, $37.50, $40.00
$42.50 ana $45.00
NEW SHIPMENT OF
Derbies and Soft Hats
At $5.00 and $6.00
FURNISHINGS GALORE
Nifty Shirts, New Neckwear, new lot of Fancy Sox,
and Underwear that won’t scratch your back.
At Popular Prices
A little of your time will not be “Killed” in my shop,
but will make both of us money.
Bob BOB HAYES Himself
NINE PEACHTREE ST., ATLANTA, GA.
PIANOS
AND-
ORGANS
E STEY Organs and Pianos and
the Hobart M. Cable Piano
are the world’s standards in
musical instruments.
If you contemplate buying either
an organ or piano,-let me demonstrate
the merits of these first-class instru
ments to you.
V. M. LEATHERS
DOUGLASVILLE
A few good Second-hand organs at bargain prices.
,e broad-
GUARANTEE
If, after using en
tire content! of the
cso according to di
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-grocer will refund
the money you pe Id
for It.
EVERY POUND
SOLD IN AN AIR
TIGHT TIN CAN
, Read the
_ Luzianne guarantee.
StuchritMtis
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get your
you are not
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coffee
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