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THE QEOBOrIAWS MAGAZINE PAGE
4 Initials Only By Anna Katherine Green
A Thrilling Mystery Story of Modem Times
(Copyright 1911, Street & Smith.)
(Copyright, 1911, by Dodd, Mead & Co.)
TODAY’S INSTALLMENT.
Mr. Gryce; nothing new. It’s the
?ame old business. But, If what I sus
ne,'t - rue. this same old business offers
opportunities for some very interesting
s n<l unusual effort. You’re not satisfied
with the coroner's verdict in the Chai
loner case?”
••X,, rm satisfied with nothing that
paves all ends dangling. Suicide was
~l t proved. It seemed the only presump
tion possible, but it was not proved,
"hpr, was no blood-stain on that cutter
point "
■ X"F any evidence that it had ever
been there.”
"X,, I’m not proud of the chain which
la. Ks a link where It should be strongest.”
■\\> shall never supply that link.”
I quite agree with you.”
"That chain we must throw away.”
"And forge another?"
Sweetwater approached and sat down.
"Yes; I believe we can do it; yet I have
only one indisputable fact for a starter.
That Is why I want you to tell me whether
I'm growing daft or simply adventurous.
Mr Gryce. I don’t trust Brotherson. He
has pulled the wool over Dr. Heath’s
eyes and almost over those of Mr. Chal
loner. But lie can’t pull it over mine.
Th' :gh he should tell a story ten times
more plausible than the one with which
he has satisfied the coroner's jury, I
would still listen to him with more mis
giving than confidence. Yet I have caught
him in no misstatement, and his eye is
steadier thun my own. Perhaps it is sim
ply a deeply rooted antipathy on my part,
or the rage one feels at finding he has
jjae-'u his finger on the wrong man.
Again it may be— *'
"What. Sweetwater?"
"A well-founded distrust. Mr. Gryce,
I'm g' ing to ask you a question.”
"Ask away. Ask fifty If you want to.”
"No; the one may involve fifty, but It
is lug enough In itself to hold our atten
tion for a while. Did you ever hear of a
case before, that in some of Its details
was similar to this'.’’'
"No. It stands al te. That's why it is
so puzzling.”
"You forget. The wealth, beauty and
social ' onsequence of the present victim
has blinded you to the strong resemblance
whi, h her case bears to one you know,
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in which the sufferer had none of the
worldly advantages of Miss Challoner. 1
allude to—” ‘
"Wait! the washerwoman In Hicks
street! Sweetwater, what have you got
up your sleeve? You do mean that Brook
lyn washerwoman, don’t you?”
The same. The department may have
forgotten it, but I haven’t. Mr. Gryoe,
there s a startling similarity in the two
cases if you study the essential features
only. Startling, I assure you.”
”Yes, you are right there. But what if
there is? We were no more successful
In solving that case than we have been
In solving this. Yet you look and act like
a hound which has struck a hot scent.”
The young man smoothed his features
with an embarrassed laugh.
”1 shall never learn.” said he, ’’not to
give tongue till the hunt is fairly started.
If you will excuse me, we'll first make
sure of the similarity I have mentioned.
Then I’ll explain myself. I have some
notes here, made at the time it was de
cided to drop the Hicks street case as a
wholly inexplicable one. As you know, I
never can bear to say ‘die,’ and I some
times keep such notes as a possible help
in case any such unfinished matter should
come up again. Shall I read them?”
“Do. Twenty years ago it would not
have been necessary. I should have re
membered every detail of an affair so
puzzling. But my memory is no longer
entirely reliable. So fire away, my boy,
though I hardly see your purpose or what
real bearing the affair in Hicks street
has upon the Clermont one. A poor
washerwoman and the wealthy Miss Chal
loner! True, they were not unlike in
their end.”
"The connection will come later,”
smiled the young detective, with that
strange softening of his features which
made one at times forget his extreme
plainness. "I’m sure you will not con
sider the time lost if I ask you to con
sider the comparison I am about to
make, if only as a curiosity in criminal
annals.”
And he read:
“ ‘On the afternoon of December 4,
1910, the strong and persistent screaming
of a young child in one of the rooms of
a rear tenement in Hicks street, Brook
lyn, drew the attention of some of the
inmates and led them, after several in
effectual efforts to gain an entrance, to
the breaking in of the door which had
been fastened on the inside by an old
fashioned door button.
” ’The tenant whom all knew for an
honest, hard-working woman, had not
infrequently fastened her door in this
manner, in order to safeguard her child
who was abnormally active and had a
way of rattling the door open when It
was not thus secured. But she had
never refused to open before, and the
child’s cries were pitiful.
" ’This was no longer a matter of won
der, when, the door having been wrenched
from its hinges, they all rushed in. Across
a tub of steaming clothes lifted upon a
bench in the open window, they saw the
body of this good woman, lying inert and
seemingly dead; the frightened child tug
ging at her skirts. She was of a robust
make, fleshy and fair, and had always
been considered a model of health and
energy, but at the sight of her helpless
figure, thus stricken while at Work, the
one cry was ‘A stroke!’ till she had been
lifted off and laid upon the floor. Then
some discoloration In the water at the
bottom of the tub led to a eloser exami
nation of her body, and the discovery of
a bullet hole in her breast directly over
the heart.
" 'As she had been standing with face
towards the window, all crowded that
way to see where the shot had come from.
As they were on the fourth story It could
not have come from the court upon which
the room looked. It could only have come
from the front tenement, towering up be
fore them son e twenty feet away. A sin
gle window of the innumerable ones con
fronting them stood open, and this was
the one directly opposite.
'■ 'Nobody was to be seen there or in
the room beyond, but during the excite
ment, one man ran off to call the police
and another to hunt up the Janitor and
ask who occupied this room.
“ ‘His reply threw them all Into con
fusion. The tenant of that room was the
best, the quietest and most respectable
man in either building
" 'Then he must be simply careless and
the shot an accidental one. A rush was
made for the stairs and soon the whole
building was in an uproar. But when this
especial room was reached, It was found
locked and on the door a paper pinned
up, on which these words were written'
Gone to New York. Will be back at S:30!
Words that recalled a circumstance to the
janitor. He had seen the gentleman go
out an hour before. This terminated all
Inquiry in this direction, though some few
of the excited throng were for battering
down this door just as they had the other
one. But they were overruled by the
janitor, who saw no use in such wholesale
destruction, and presently the arrival of
the police restored order and limited the
Inquiry to the rear building, where it un
doubtedly belonged.’
“Mr. Gryce” (here Sweetwater laid by
his notes that he might address the old
gentleman more directly), "I was with
the boys when they made their first of
ficial Investigation. This is why you can
rely upon the facts as here given. I
followed the investigation closely and
missed nothing which could In any way
throw light on the case. It was a mys
terious one from the first, and lost noth
ing by further inquiry into the details.
To Be Continued in Next issue.
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The Ten Ages of Beauty > 6 ~" The Byron (; ! rl
Illustration from Good Housekeeping for September.
f£f V'wH '
'WhJv * 7- MF -
This picture, by Nell Brinkley, is reproduced by permission and accompanies an article by
Octave Uzanne, entitled “The Story of Furs and Muffs.”
By MARGARET HUBBARD
AYER.
THE most wonderful thing about
girls la the remarkable way in
which they can adapt them
selves to a new type or style of beauty.
About every twenty years, in modern
times, the popular type of beauty seems
to change, and straightway the girls
model themselves after that particular
type.
Some years ago—about fifteen, to be
accurate—the streets were thronged
With Gibson girls; they were tall and
stately, and for the most part blond, but
where is the Gibson girl today? You
don't see her
The girl of today is small and svelt,
with big inquisitive eyes and a little
nose that curls up, and a full-lipped
tnouth that turns up at the corners,
and bunches of curls over each ear,
and she peers at you from under such a
reminiscent little hat that' you know
you are quite familiar with her, for, of
course, she is the Brinkley girl.
Almost a hundred years ago the fem-
Daysey May me and Her Folks
By Frances L. Garside
A LITERARY TRIUMPH.
Mrs. lysander john apple
ton had all the seriousnew
and importance of the drummer
of a country band.
It Beemed In some vague way to Ly
sander John that she looked larger. He
had the feeling that he was In the pres
ence of a woman who, mentally and
physically, wore larger sizes than she
wore when he left the house that morn
ing.
There was a note of triumph about
her; a spirit of achievement that he
could not define, yet could not deny.
"Well?" he Baid, in a man's way.
"Well, what?” she said, in the pro
voking way of all women.
He had asked a question. He felt
Do You Know—
Over 150,000 native troops are in
cluded in the Indjan army.
In England and Wales the average
death rate per thousand head of the
population la fifteen; In Germany it Is
just over eighteen, and in Russia thir
ty-one and a half.
Fortune tellers in England are liable
to be punished as rogues and vaga
bonds by acts of parliament passed in
1743 and 1824.
Turnip seeds have been known to be
dormant for seven years through being
planted too deep, and after that time
to sprout.
The stew'ard of a Chicago hotel has
invented a machine which will wash
and dry 18,000 dishes or plates in an
hour.
The best rubber glovis for the use
of electricians are tested to resist a
current of 10.000 volts.
As many as three million tulips have
ben grown in a single field in the
Lincolnshire fens.
iiiine world was going wild over Lord
Byron’s poems, and no matter what
they looked like, or how nature really
made them, somehow, with the extraor
dinary adaptability of the sex, they
transformed themselves into living
portraits of the poet’s heroines.
Lord Byron, though he Utterly dis
dained such things, started innumer
able fashions, some for men, but most
s>f them for women. One of them we
still have with us—the Byron collar—
which is fashionable again this year,
but in those days there were mantles
a la Byron, curls named after the fa
mous man, thick and gorgeous mate
rials which had his sanction and bore
his name. All Lord Byron had to do
was to admire some famous lady and
straightway every girl in town tried to
look as much like het as possible.
Being a famous heart-breaker, he
kept changing the fashions in beauty
all the time, but oilt of all these tragic
love affairs and Ideals there developed
the Byron girl, whose pictures you see
here —a born flirt, beautiful, daring, co
quettish, made to walk upon the hearts
that if she didn’t want to answer it
made np difference to him. He didn’t
want to know, anyway.
Seeing that he no longer cared to
know, she became anxious to tell.
"I was elected,” she said, in tones of
triumph.
Lysander John is so accustomed to
his wife’s election as a member of
lodges and clubs and other organiza
tions that he looked bored. Her news
was of no Interest.
"To the Women’s Press club!” with
her voice in high G.
Then Lysander John woke up.
"But you can't be a member of THAT
club," he said. "You have never worked
on a newspaper; you have never writ
ten a book. Why,” his voice increas
ing with indignation at what he be
lieved must have been a fraudulent
claim, "you have never written ANY
THING.”
”1 have, too” she exclaimed, bristling
for a fight. "Who are you to question
my literary achievements?”
"But you haven’t written a THING:
you can’t write!” persisted Lysander
John.
His wife smiled, and her smile was
one of cold scorn. It was the smile of
the winner just before he produces the
winning card.
"I told them what I had written,"
she said, "and they elected me unani
mously.”
"But—but—”
She knew what he was trying to
ask.
"I told them,” she continued, "that I
once wrote a recipe in a friend's cook
book.”
"THE VICTOR" |
of men, and the great-grandmother of
the Brinkley girl today.
Rhe wore side curls a la Byron, and
adapted modern Greek garments,
which do not resemble classic Greek
clothes in the least, to her needs, as
soon as she heard that her idol had de.
termined to fight for the Independence
of Greece.
Indeed, the Byron girl a fright
ful time changing her wardrobe to suit
the passing fancy of the poet. One
moment she wanted to look Spanish
and again the Italian beauties set the
example.
Probably in her heart of hearts,
though she mourned the great poet in
tensely, she was rather glad to wattle
down to early Victorian prose, after
his death.
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:: A Privilege Usurped ::
By Beatrice Fairfax
STRAIGHTFORWARD DISCUSSIONS
OF LEAP YEAR PROPOSALS.
(( TA UT though I loved you well.
I) 1 woo'd you not;
And yet, good faith, I wish’d
myself a man:
Or that we women had men's privilege
Os speaking first.”
—Shakespeare.
M. 6. R. writes:
"This being Leap Year, 4 proposed to
a young man with whom I had been ac
quainted for a long time, and whom I
dearly love. He accepted me and seem
ed to love me.
“Later I found that my dearest girl
friend had proposed to that same young
man and he had accepted her also. I
am not pretty or stylish, and my friend
is both, but I love him in away of
which she is not capable at all. Do you
think that he was joking with her, ot
with me?”
With both of you. my dear! What in
your vision is a serious thing has prob
ably become to him the rarest of jokes.
If he accepted you, of course, he ac
cepted the other girl. It might prove an
embarrassment of riches if he regarded
the proposals seriously, but he doesn't.
And no man will. When a woman
asks a man to marry her, she steps out
of her own province, and is very likely
to be misjudged and misunderstood.
She offers her heart and hand to a man
He becomes the hunted when every
custom, right and tradition have made
him the hunter.
If he went to the woods to kill a deer
and the deer chased him for the pur
poses and desire o_t being killed hunting
would become a huge joke.
Courtship, though a more delicate
matter than going into the woods with
a gun, alike loses its zest and its joy If
the girl becomes the pursuer. It is a
jump from the sacred to the profane.
Designed as the rarest of all joys, it be
comes the rarest of all jokes.
Women have argued since the world
was young that they should have the
privilege of proposal, and there is much
to prove their contention.
Ih the first place, no man knows what
is good for him. When he is very young
no one expects wisdom, and the older
he grows the less he displays. When
he is old and needs a nurse to care for
him, he picks out a wife who makes a
good dummy on which to display pretty
clothes.
Not one man in twenty has good
marrying sense. The women claim that
if they could be the choosers there
would be more happy marriages. That
is a question time may settle, but the
time is not now.
Surely, the writer of this letter knows
that no one person can change an es-
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tablished order of things and expect
anything but chaos to result.
The fact that it is Leap Year will
make no change in human nature. Leap
Year will never be recognized seriously
so long as only the women regard it in
that light. They may begin in January
and propose till December, but so long
as man regards the year as a joke year,
designed to placate the women, the
proposals will receive less serious at
tention than an invitation to dine.
There is only one thing left for this
girl to do: She must break the “en
gagement.”
That, under the circumstances, will
Be easy. She can tell him she knows of
his perfidy, and ask for the return of
iter ring. 1 am taking it for granted
that she observed all the little niceties
of courtship, and gave him one.
Then, 1 beg. with the ring in her pos
session. she will wear it as a reminder
of her folly. If ever again she feels
that she must ask a man to marry her,
let her rub the ring to invoke the mem
ory of the humiliation her first proposal
cost her.
When the right man comes along let
him do the proposing. The men are
very jealous of their rights, and the
right of courtship is one they will never
surrender.
If a girl wants to win a man, let her
study his likes and dislikes. Let her
give him flattery in just such amounts
his nature craves, and administer it so
delicately he doesn’t know it is flattery.
Let her appeal to ills superior wisdom
in all things, and win him by tact and
subtlety. A bold proposal of marriage
is like a knock-down blow compared
with tlte thousand other means nature
has provided every woman for winning
the man she loves.
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