Newspaper Page Text
THE GEORGIANS MAGAZINE, PAGE
“Initials Only” * By Anna Katherine Green
A Thrilling Mystery Story of Modern Times
(Copyright, 1911. Street & Smith.)
(Copyright, 1911, by Dodd, Mead Co.)
TODAY’S INSTALLMENT.
Mr. Gryce Finds an Antidote for Old Age.
■ I thought I should make you sit up.
I really calculated upon doing so, sir.
Yes. I have established the plain fact that
pt therson was near It, if not in the ex
act line of the scene of the crime in each
of these extraordinary and baffling cases.
.A very odd concidence, is it not?” was
the dry conclusion of our eager young
detective. . . .
odd enough if you are correct in your
statement. But I thought it was con
ceded that the man Brotherson was not
personally near —was not even in the
building at the time of the woman s death
In Hicks street; that he was out. and had
been out for hours, according to the jan
itor.''
And so the janitor thought, but he did
not quite know his man. I'm not sure
that I do. But I mean to make his ac
luaintance and make it thoroughly be
fore I let him go. The hero-*-well, I
will say the possible here of two such
adventures —deserves some attention from
one so interested in the abnormal as
myself.”
Sweetwater, how came you to discov
er that Mr. Dunn, of this ramshackle ten
ement in Hicks street, was Identical with
the elegantly equipped admirer of Miss
i t alloner?” z
"lust this way: The night before Miss
ci illoner’s death 1 was brooding very
deeply over the Hicks street case. It had
so possesesd me that I had taken this
street on my way from Flatbush; as if
staring at the house and its swarming
courtyard was going to settle any such
question as that! I walked by the place
and looked up at the windows. No in
spiration. Then I sauntered back and en
tered the house with the fool intention of
crossing the courtyard and wandering
into the rear of the building where the
crime had occurred. But my attention
was diverted and my mind changed by
seeing a man coming down the stairs be
fore me, of so fine a figure that I invol
untarily stopped to look at him. Had he
moved a little less carelessly, had he
worn his workman's clothes a little less
naturally, I should have thought him
some college bred man out on a slumming
expedition. But he was entirely too much
at home where he was, and too rincon
s' ous of his jeans for any such con
clusion on my part, and when he had
pissed out I had enough curiosity to ask
who he was.
"My interest, you may believe, was in
no wise abated w’hen I learned that he
was that highly respectable tenant whose
window had been open at the time when
half the inmates of the two buildings
had rushed up to his door, only to find
a paper on it displaying these words:
Gone to New York. Will be back at 6:30.
Had he returned at that hour? I don't
think anybody had ever asked; and what
reason had I for such interference now?
But an idea once planted In my brain
sticks tight, and I kept thinking of this
man all the way to the bridge. Instinc
tively and quite against my will, I found
myself connecting him with some pre
vious remembrance in w’hich I seemed to
see his tall form and strong features un
der the stress of some great excitement.
B'i ; there my memory stopped, till sud
tir’ily as I was entering the subway, it all
came back to me. I had met him the day
I went with the boys to Investigate the
ease in Hicks street. He was coming
Awn the staircase of the rear tene
ment then, very much as I had just seen
him coming down the one in front. Only
the Dunn of today seemed to have all his
w s about him, while the huge fellow
who brushed so rudely by me on that oc
casion had the peculiar look of a man
struggling with horror or some grave ag-
A CHANDLER
LADY TESTIFIES
Makes a Few Plain State
ments Regarding Past
Troubles, Which Are
Very Interesting.
•
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B hen I first wrote you for advice I
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I hardly know how to thank you for
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If you think that the publication of
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itation. This was not surprising, of
course, under the circumstances. I had
met more than one man and woman in
those halls who had worn the same look:
but none of them had put up a sign on
their door that they had left for New
York and would not be back till 6:30.
and then changed their minds so suddenly
that they were back in the tenement at
3. sharing the curiosity and the terrors
of its horrified Inmates.
But the discovery, while possibly sug
gestive. was not of so pressing a nature
as to demand instant action; and more
immediate duties coming up. I let the
matter slip from my mind, to be brought
up again the next day. you may well be
lieve. when all the circumstances of the
death at the Clermont came to light and
I found myself confronted by a problem
very nearly the counterpart of the one
then occupying me.
"But I did not see any real connection
between the two cases until, in my
hunt for Mr. Brotherson, I came upon
the following facts: that he was not al
ways the gentleman he appeared; that
the apartment in which he was supposed
to live was not his own, but a friend's;
that he was only there by spells. When
he was there he dressed like a prince and
it was while so clothed he ate his meals
in the case of the Hotel Clermont.
"But there were times when he had
been seen to leave this apartment in a
very’ different garb, and while there was
no one to insinuate that he was slack
in paying his debts or was given to dis
sipation or any overt vice, it was general
ly conceded by such as casually’ knew’
him that there was a mysterious side to
his life which no one understood. His
friend —a seemingly candid and open
miflded gentleman—explaJned these con
tradictions by saying that Mr. Brotherson
was a humanitarian and spent much of
his time in the slums. That while so
engaged he natureJly dressed to suit the
occasion, and if he was to be criticised
at all it was for his zeal, which often
led him to extremes and kept hint to his
task for days, during which time none
of his uptown friends saw him. Then this
enthusiastic gentleman called him the
great intellectual light of the day’, and
—well, if ever I want a character I shall
take pains to insinuate myself into the
good graces of this Mr. Conway.
"Os Brotherson himself I saw nothing
He had come to Mr. Conway’s apartment
the night before—the night of Miss Chal
loner’s death, you understand—but had
remained only long enough to change his
clothes. Where he went afterwards is
unknown to Mr. Conway, nor can he
tell us when to look for his return. When
he does show up, m.v message will be
given him. etc I have no fault to find
with Mr. Conway.
"But I had an idea in regard to this
elusive Brotherson I had heard enough
about him to be mighty sure that to
gether with his other accomplishments he
possessed the golden tongue and easy
speech of an orator. Also, that his
tendencies were revolutionary and that
for all his fine clothes and hankering
after table luxuries and the like, he cher
ished a spite against W’ealth which made
his words under certain moods cut like a
knife. But there was another man. known
to us of the precinct, who had very
nearly these same gifts, and this man
was going to speak at a secret meeting
that very evening. This we had been told
by’ a disgruntled member of the Asso
ciated Brotherhood. Suspecting Brother
son. I had tills prospective speaker de
scribed. and thought I recognized my
man. But I wanted to be positive in m.v
identification, so I took Anderson with
me. and —but I’ll cut that short. We
didn't see the orator and that 'go' went
for nothing; but I had another string to
my’ bow in the shape of the workman
Dunn, who also answered to the descrip
tion which had been given me; so I lugged
poor Anderson over into Hicks street.
"It was late for the visit I proposed,
but not too late. If Dunn was also the
orator who. surprised by’ a raid I had not
been let into, would be making for his
home, if only to establish an alibi. The
übway was near, and I calculated on his
using it, but we took a taxicab and so
arrived in Hicks street some few min
utes before him. The. result you know
Anderson recognized the man as the one
whom he saw washing his hands in the
snow outside of the Clermont, and the
man. seeing himself discovered, owned
himself to be Brotherson and made no
difficulty about accompanying us the next
day to the coroner's office.
"You have heard how he bore himself;
what his explanations were and how com
pletely they fitted in with the precon
ceived notions of the inspector and the
district attorney. In consequence. Miss
Chailoner's death is looked upon as a sui
cide —the impulsive act of a woman who
sees the man she may have scouted but
whom she secretly loves turn away from
her in all probability forever. A weapon
was in her hand—she impulsively used it,
and another deplorable suicide was added
to the melancholy list. Had I put in my
oar at the conference held in the coro
ner's office; had I recalled to Dr. Heath
the curious case of Mrs. Spotts, and then
identified Brotherson as the man whose
window fronted hers from the opposite
tenement, a diversion might have been
created and the outcome been different.
But I feared the experiment. I'm not
sufficiently in with the chief as yet, nor
with the inspector. They might not have
called me a fool—you may, but that's
different —and they might have listened,
but it would doubtless have been with an
air I could not have held up against,
with that fellow's eyes fixed mockingly
on mine. For he and I are pitted for a
struggle, and I do not want to give him
the advantage of even a momentary
triumph. He's the most complete master
of himself of any man I ever met. and it
will take the united brain and resolu
tion of the whole force to bring him to
book if he ever is brought to book, which
I doubt. What do you think about it?"
"That you have given me an antidote
against old age,” was the ringing and
unexpected reply, as the thoughtful, half
puzzled aspect of the old man yielded
impulsively to a burst of his early en-
. liuslasm. "If we can get a good grip
on the thread you speak of. and can
work ourselves along by it, though it be
by no more than an inch at a time, we
shall yet make our way through this
labyrinth of undoubted crime and earn
for ourselves a triumph which will make
some of these raw and inexperienced
young fellows about us stare. Sweetwa
ter. coincidences are possible. We run
upon them every day. But coincidence
in ctlme! that should make work for a de
tective. and we are not afraid of work
There's my hand for my end of the busi
ness.”
"And here's mine "
Next minute the two heads were closer
than ever together, and the business had
begun.
To Be Continued tn Next Issue.
The Ten Ages of Beauty * Vo 7 The Girl of Mystery
Illustration from Good Housekeeping Magazine for September,
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This Picture by Nell Brinkley Is Reproduced by Permission and Accompanies an Article by Oc-
• tave Uzanne on “The Story of Furs and Muffs.” fl I’ W
By MARGARET HUBBARD AYER.
IS she your favorite type of feminine
beauty?
Anything that is mysterious at
tracts attention.
When all other lines of advertising
fail, the would-be theatrical star
shrouds herself in some sort of a mys
tery, or is carefully enveloped in one
by’ the fantasy of her press agent.
The mystery may be a we t ird tale of
tragedy and crime, or the more ob
vious one of being photographed wither
mask on, and only’ appearing on the
street heavily veiled.
These eccentricities set every one to
wondering, and that is what the mys
terious person is after. You don't have
to admire her, you don't have to love
her, but she must occupy’ your thoughts,
and to that end she is carefully and
systematically’ mysterious in her ’ ac
tions and her dress.
The famous prisoner in the iron mask
has occupied the mind of millions of
people, because of the mystery attach
ed to him. And what every woman
knows is that she can keep all men and
Up-to-Date Jokes
Little Madge contracted appendicitis
and had to be sent to the hospital to
have an operation performed. She bore
it all very coolly’ and pluckily.
When she became convalescent, the
surgeon came to remove the stitches
that had been put in the wound. The
child’s idea of dignity was very much
upset, and she demanded, indignantly:
“Do you s'pose I come here to be all
stitched up and then unpicked again?"
Fond Parent—“ What key do you
think suits my daughter’s voice best?”
Gruel Teacher —“My dear madam,
your daughter's voice is so thin I
should suggest a skeleton key."
The Singer (with feeling)—"Will you
miss me—”
Voice (from back of the hall)
"Gimme a gun and I'll try not to!”
"I want you to tell me plainly, doc
tor.” said the man with the fat govern
ment position, “what is the matter with
me."
“Well, sir." answered the old doctor,
leaning hack in his chair and looking at
his beefy, red-faced patient, “you are
suffering from underwork and over
pay."
"It's ridiculous for a young man to
get married »« soon as he comes of
age!” said the elderly bachelor.
“Think so, do you?” said Henpeck,
languidly
"Os course! Why, he's scarcely old
enough to be his own master.”
"Well, he isn't If he gets married."
Salesman "Now, here, madam, Is a
piece of goods that speaks for Itself
I—”
Customer (interrupting)—"Then sup
pose you keep quiet a moment and give
it a chance.”
"What makes that fellow so popu
lar?”
"He'll listen to a funny story with
out Insisting on telling another."
“Father." asked little Andy, "what’s
a leading woman?"
An’, woman," replied father, "who
is married."
women guessing if she will only shroud
herself in some kind of a mystery.
The girl in the picture wears a mask,
and I know you are crazy to see what
she looks like. As she trips on her
rvay, every man she passes is filled with
curiosity, with wondir and Interest. If
she were the greatest beauty in the
world she w’ould not attract as much
attention as she does by hiding or veil
ing her charms.
The girl who can be mysterious, and
lots of them are, has an extraordinary
power over people, for she lingers in
their thoughts and exercises their im
agination.
Lots of girls cultivate this air of
mystery, and you see in their faces the
deep, wonderful, brooding expression
that makes you believe they are think
ing of unfathomable things.
Mystery is the refuge of the stupid.
If you try hard enough you can al
ways look and act as if there were
worlds of meanings behind your sim
plest glance.
Sometimes a girl Is born to look mys-
j ffli
IYI W
wa I fTilssl?i $
Spaghetti Night
is Guest Night
V?'OU cannot show your friends more
generous hospitality than to invite
them to join the family circle the night
you serve
FAUST
BRAND
SPAGHETTI
It’s a delightful dish —and so full of whole
some nourishment. Made from glutinous
Durum wheat, in clean, bright, sunny
kitchens. Make Faust Spaghetti the chief
dish for dinner once a week and invite
your friends to enjoy it.
All good grocers sell Faust Spaghetti—sc
and 10c a package. Write for free book
of recipes.
Maull Bros., St. Louis, Mo.
terious; such a one was the fair Edna,
one of the most beautiful girl? I have
ever seen. She had broivn eyes as big
as teacups, and while she hardly ever
said anything, she looked unutterable
things. You would feel those big. brown
eyes gazing at you even when your back
was turned, and as if drawn by some
wonderful magic you would ask. “What
is ft?” trying to fathom the mystery
behind that deep, searching glance of
hers. But she always answered, “Noth
ing."
Edna married a very rich man. She
is still marvelously beautiful and in
her face is the mystery of the Sphinx.
She never mars this impression, for
she seldom says anything Her hus
band adored her until he found out that
behind this wall of mystery there was a
perfectly vacant brain, a thing which
we could have told him before his mar
riage.
They are divorced now. and she is
about to marry No. 2 who lias also
succumbed to the charm of the silent,
mysterious looking beauty.
The Manicure Lady s e
Beother Wilfred's Idea of a Wedding Gift
By WILLIAM F. KIRK.
{{TXTILFRED bought a dog th.
yy other day.” said the Manicure
Lady. “It was one of them
Boston bulls. The poor boy didn't have
no sugar to give his bride except that
gift, so he thought he might as well
make her a present of that, as long as
he got it for nothing from a gent that
he knew when he was a kid.
"1 don't like the idea of dogs in the
■city. George. They ain't no good for
nothing. What's the use of having
them for watch dogs when you ain't got
anything in the flat to watch? Tht
only place for a dog is the country
anyway, and the more I see of a city
George, tire more it seems to me that
the country is as good a place for hu
man beings as it is for dogs, and maybe
betfe r.
"This dog that Wilfred bought was
a kind of funny looking, sad little cur.
like one of Wilfred’s poems. It looked
kind of hopeless, 1 mean. The poor
boy thought that his bride would like
it, but I knew better. Three days' ac
quaintance with her taught me, Georg;
that she wasn't in the mood to like
anything, and never would be in the
mood.
"That's why 1 felt kind of sorry sos
poor brother when he asked rne to go
over to his fiat with him while he
made the presentation speech. He had
a poem all wrote out Io say when he
gave the mutt to the girl that he had
took’for his wife, and between you and
me, George, the poem was as bad as
the dog. This is how it went”—
“Don’t start it. please," said the Head
Barber. "The poems that your brother
writes gives a man tile creeps. Lay off
on it, and let's talk about the weather.
Let's talk about anything—but no poems
wrote by your brother."
"Rut I must tell you this one, George,"
said the Manicure Lady. "The name ol
it alone struck me kind of funny—'A
Poem to a Pup.’ Fancy that, George!
I have heard a lot about poems to
ladies and poems to their fiats and their
fans, and poems to dark eyes and to
blue eyes, but that was the first time 1
ever heard a poem to a pup. Listen.
George-
“Poor little pup that shiverest,
Poor little pup, with nerves that
quiverest;
Poor little pup that needs my strong
arm's protection.
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"That is the cheesiest poem that I
ever heard," declared the Head Barber.
"What did the bride do when sho heard
it?"
“She cried,” said the Manicure Lady.
"Well, it won't be the only time she
ever cried or ever will cry,” said the
Head Barber.
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