Newspaper Page Text
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mamm
j When Cupic
Says—"1 Will Return”
NELL BRINKLEY ^assassess*
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS
One of the Greatest Mystery Stories Ever Written
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By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN. ™. conclusion reached, action lm-
(Copyright, 1913, by Anna Katharine
Green.)
TO-DAY’S INSTALLMENT.
Nell Brinkley Says
B ESIDE you stretches a flannely bundle
swathed like a small mummy. Only
the face that ornaments the top of the
bundle is not the black and gold, slant-eyed,
baffling face that gazes above the mummy
case. Here is a pink face, the color of crum
pled, pal«, pink roses, crumpled a bit like
them, too, you must admit, topped on its
smooth head with a marvelous fine down of
feathery hair.
It is your dear delight to caress with the
->alm of your hand that exquisite golden
fuzz. You like to hang above it, too—brood
ing with dove’s eyes and cooing with dove’s
voice. One slim hand hound about on its
third finger with a golden ring rests and
moves tenderly on the hard, shirted shoulder
jf the man who sometimes comes to kneel
>eside the bed—to put his big chin on his
olded fist and gaze and smile and whistle
soft at the tiny face of his baby girl.
Your face bended down—his tilted up—-
you study and yearn over and incessantly
watch tlje atom between you. Sometimes,
then, you raise your eyes to look deep and
long into one another’s. Sometimes, then,
you kiss and your hand steals closer about
the man’s neck with the same curving,
cherishing line it has whe.n you slip it be
neath your baby’s head.
And while you brood and wonder there is
one who tiptoes over from the door, looks
breathlessly at the blue-eyed, blossom-
mouthed thing between you and then draws
back with a smile. Sometimes in the man’s
eyes dawns a look that signals he is aware
in a dim fashion of the presence of that One.
And he looks rather violent then—for a fa
ther has a fashion of getting ferocious over’
the idea that Love must come some dim day
to his Nmall baby girl. ~
Under the blue curtain at the door Love
turns and grins.
”1 will be back,” he says, exulting, ‘‘in
ANOTHER EIGIITEEEN YEARS! She
doesn’t look like much material now. She
has no hair to speak about, no teeth to smile
with—no neck. Her cheeks fit right onto her
shoulders. She has so little intellect that, she
is intensely amused for long hours with her
ten toes! She makes hubbies with her mouth
all day long. And murmurs and holds forth
to herself in a language no lover could un
derstand. BUT WAIT! I know these little
atoms AND I WILL BE BACK IN EIGH
TEEN YEARS!”
The Begum
A Tragedy of the East
T HE Bogum Allah Vlsaya, heavily
veiled, left her house and
stopped for a moment at the
officers’ Casino.
As she was about to mount the
steps the sentry stopped her and
asked her what she wanted. At the
same time a messenger in red uni
form came out of the door.
"I want to speak to Captain Bon-
aonby.” » •
Then he asked: “What do you want
to see the captain for? And who are
you, anyway, to come here with such
a demand?”
At this moment the sentry was
called away by an officer The lady
took ten silver rupees from her bag:,
handed them to the messenger boy
and said: "These are yours, if you
will take me to the sahib.”
The boy did not hesitate, but led
her into the house straight into the
xnessroom of the non-commissioned
officers, where he found the captain’s
Mohammedan servant, who announc
ed h**r to his master.
Captain Bonsonby was a Jovial
Irishman, who had been on the In
dian frontier only a short time and
who knew nothing of its many dan
gers. He let her come In and re
ceived her In his most amiable man-]
ner even before she had thrown back i
her veil and revealed that she was a!
woman of wonderful beauty. Th« I
captain offered her a chair and asked
what he could do for her.
She blushed, stammered and then
said:
A Warning.
"Do you khow, captain, that last
' >.,ir a: this time an officer of youi
jjj^^^egiment was murdered here by an
merely because he was a
m..i, *\*
a l. •
captain looked at her insur-
prlse.
"Don’t be afraid of me,” she said
with a smile. “I have only come to
warn you.”
“No, I never heard of the murder,”
said the captain. “1 have Just come
here to Barren direct from England.
I have been told many strange tales.
But against whom do you want to
warn me?”
"Whom they have chosen for the
deed I do not know'. 1 only know
that he comes from the same prov
ince as the man who committed the
last murder.”
"And you can tell me nothing else?
How do you happen to know any
thing about the plot?”
She blushed even deeper than be
fore and whispered almost lnaudibly:
“A native officer named Mahoob
All ”
”1 know him."
Fearsome Thoughts.
“ has found a snapshot I took
of you as you rode past my house. He
loves me, and Jealous as he Is, he
has sworn that you must die, and he
has hired a native to kill you.”
"And when is it going to happen?"
"To-night at dinner."
He looked at her as If to see If she
were mad, but her face convinced
him that she knew what she was do
ing He took her hand."
"Are you a friend of the English?"
"Not of all of them," she whispered
and blushed again.
"I thank you most heartily. And
your name?”
"Begum Allah Vlsaya.”
"Oh, now I recognize you,” he ex
claimed. "You live in the big house
at Sarra-Zam ('anal with the big
fig trees in front."
A few' moments later she left the
building, heavily veiled as before.
So he was to be murdered at the
table in less than half an hour! That
was quite certain, and he thought
Mahoob All capable of anything. But
who w'as to murder him? And at
what particular moment?
He shuddered and asked himself
what he had better do. If he stayed
away from the dinner the murderer
would strike him down some other
time when he was not prepared. He
put his revolver into his coat pocket
and went into the dining room.
He looked sharp at the three na
tive servants and ran his eyes over
their clothing to see if any of them
had any weapon concealed In It, but
he could see nothing suspicious.
During the meal he was unusually
silent and watched every movement
of the servants. Ten times rather
would he have galloped into the jaw's
of death than sit in this dreadful sus
pense.
Suddenly his right hand sought the
revolver. Had not the big fellow'
made a suspicious effort t6 take
something out of the folds of his
dross?
He jumped to his feet. Everybody
stared at him in surprise, but he had
already caught the servant by the
throat \vith his left hand while his
right was breaking the wrist of the
native in a grip of steel. A dagger
dropped on the floor. *
"The guard’” the captain cried, and
a moment later the man, pale a$
death, was led out of the room. Then
the captain sat down and told his
story without giving the name of the
veiled woman. Everybody admired
his calmness and courage.
Bate in the evening he started out
to thank Allah Vlsaya. As he passed
the caravan he met Mahoob All, who
seemed very ill at ease to see the
captain, but who saluted politely.
Bonsonby had a strange feeling of
uneasiness as he hurried on. He en
tered Allah Visaya’s house. Every
thing was still as death and not a
soul in sight.
A Tragedy.
He W'ent upstairs and entered Allah
Visaya’s room, which was flooded
with ‘ moonlight. A zither was lying
on the floor and next to It. her clothes
covered with blood, lay Allah Vlsaya
with a dagger In her heart.
Dr. Cameron advanced. “Ah, I see,”
he observed. The window opened on to
the roof of a piazza.
“This room has not been entered since
that night," resumed Mr. Gryce. “Yet
thjs window, you observe, is unlocked.
Now if any of the other windows open
ing upon this roof were also unlocked,
it would require only a little climbing
for her to pass Into the romn adjoin
ing and so by way of the hall to the
back stairs."
“It Is so," assented the doctor.
“We may regard that matter as set
tled, then," proceeded Mr. Gryce. “But
what is still to be decided Is w'hy this
veil of Miss Farley's, which I hold in my
hand, should have been found by me
under the heap of clothing at our feet.
If Mrs. Cameron can explain this as
easily as I can the method of the girl’s
departure. I shall be much obliged, for
I own it seems inexplicable to me."
Dr. Cameron turned and looked at his
wife. She had not followed them into
the alcove but* stood In the center of the
main room, with her eyes fixed, not on
him, but on the heap of clothing to
which Mr. Gryce had pointed.
An Explanation.
“Do you hear, Genevieve?*’ he asked.
“Mr. Gryce wants to know if you can
account for this veil of Mildred Farley’s
being found under this pile of cloth
ing.”
She tore her eyes from the spot where
they were looking and fixed them upon
him.
“How does he know It was Mildred
Farley’s veil? By thj? color? I had one
of that same color myself But let me
see it; I can soon tell If it is mine or
not.”
She held out her hand. Mr. Gryce left
the alcove and laid the veil In it. She
gave it a cursory glance and tossed It
back.
“It Is not mine,” Raid she. “It must
be hers. As for its being found where
you say, there is nothing so strange
about that. I was dressing and I want
ed an article of clothing. I had diffi
culty In finding it, and being nervous
and in hasle, I tore down half the
dresses in my closet and flung them on
the floor. When Mildred Farley came,
she carried them into the alcove to get
them out of the way. Her veil must
have dropped off her hat as she stooped
over them.”
How simple! ‘ Dr. Cameron’s head rose
In complete relief. Mrs. Gretorex ap
peared satisfied and swept from the
room; only Mrs. Cameron looked fa
tigued, harassed and half Indignant.
The detective saw It, but allowed him
self to put one more question.
“And was the light gray veil which
was found on Miss Farley, yours?"
. “I do qot know. I bought so many
things about that time that I can not
remember what I had. I only know I
found no suitable veil when I came to
put on my hat,"
There was no more to be said. Mr.
Gryce again thanked her for her kind
ness and politely took his departure.
He had no sooner left the house than
Mrs. Cameron sought her mother.
“I came this morning to look over my
things with you,” she declared. “But
this man has so tired me with his end
less questions that I am no longer fit
for It. Won’t you take your own time
and Just dispose of the things your
self? I am sure I shall be perfectly
satisfied with whatever you decide to
do with them. I don’t seem to have any
heart for it.” And without waiting for
a response, she took her husband’s arm
and drew him down the stairs. “Shall
I ever make my peace with you?” she
murmured.
He smiled a happy smile.
“We are too young to make mountains
out of molehills. Since your sins ar%
only those of an ordinary fashionable
woman, I will try and forget them, es
pecially as I have confidence you will
never repeat what you know gives me
palm”
She stopped at the foot of the stairs
to kiss him.
“O how I love you!” she murmured.
"And how true and devoted a wife I
will be If you will only let me.” And
her eyes gleamed and her face looked
as if it had been dipped in dew. so
bright was the change w'hich his kind
words made.
As they stepped Into their carriage
they saw' the portly figure of Mr. Gryce
disappearing around the comer.
A Sudden Release.
I T was evident that Julius Moles-
worth must go to prison. If Mil
dred Farley had been murdered, he
was the man to whom her death was
due. If she had not—but that was a
question for the Grand Jury to deter
mine; the duty of the police lay In ar
resting him. To be sure, the case was
not as strong against him as it had
been against some criminals Mr. Gryce
had known. But then a case of poison
ing Is always more impenetrable than
one in which the knife or pistol is used;
for whereas the wound made by knife
or bullet usually tells Its own tale and
determines either by its direction or
character the all-important question as
to whether or no the death was self-
inflicted, poison keeps its own secrets,
and only by the surrounding circum
stances can we Judge whether the vic
tim raised the glass to his own lips or
had It forced upon him by another.
But here were circumstances of a
direct and telling nature which pointed
to murder; for upon what other theory
than a skillfully premeditated plan to
conceal his crime can we account for
the story told by Dr. Moles worth of
his finding the girl in a dying condition
on a certain stoop, when the real facts
of the case show that she perished
in his phaeton and that the bottle was
flung out and broken on the sidewalk
merely to give color to the statement
he intended to make? Only a coward
of the basest stamp or a man conscious
of being subject to the law would re
sort to such a lie and such an action;
and I>r. Molesworth had no appearance
of being a coward. On the contrary,
he had every sign of being a deep
thinking. strong-acting and self-reliant
man. To prison, therefore, he must go,
and without further delay; the explana
tions given by the only other person
who was known to talk with MHdred
t night merely served to show the
necessity of it.
sent
to complete the arrest, and by 2 o’clock
in the afternoon he and the doctor made
their appearance at police headquarters
on their way to the magistrate. But
here a delay occurred. For no sooner
had Mr. Gryce stepped through the
doorway than a man grasped him by
the arm and an eager voice whispered
-in «his ear:
“I’ve got her. She’s here. It’s been
a hard chase for she is frightened about
something and tried to keep out of
the way. But I found her at last, and
it only remains for you to make her
talk.” •
Mr. Gryce’s pale cheek took on a
little color. Peering hastily about, his
glance fell on the shrinking form of a
young woman pressed up against the
wall nearby.
“That is all right,” he declared. And,
turning to Dr. Molesworth. he informed
him that he would have to give him up
to other hands for a few minutes, as
he had some important business to
transact. Then he disappeared with the
girl into the inspector’s office.
He was gone some time, and when
he came back the girl was not with him.
But the inspector was, and it was he
who stepped up to the doctor and in
formed him that the suspicions against
him had been proved unfounded and
that he was at liberty to depart.
In the Hospital.
D R. CAMERON’S office offered a
great contrast to that of Dr.
Molesworth Instead of gloom
there was cheer; instead of bareness
there was a tasteful display of rich fur
niture and valuable works of art. Yet
the man sitting there possessed as
strong a soul and held as firm a grip
on his profession as his less self-indul
gent and less prosperous rival. His
prospects of success were brighter, too,
for not only had he every advantage of
wealth and station to assist him, but he
had* also that genius for plunging at a
glance to the bottom of things which
Molesworth lacked; the latter being
forced to earn every step of his way by
the severest study and the most intense
mental effort.
Dr. Cameron was meditating upon all
this that same night, as he waited for
his wife, when he was expecting home
from an entertainment where he had
been obliged to leave her in order to at
tend an urgent case. He was medi
tating upon it and thinking of her, for
she mingled with all his thoughts now,
as the perfume of a flower we have fas
tened in our breast mingles with each
breath that we take. She was so fair,
so tender, so baffling. There was such
love ill her look, such haunting music
in her voice. He did not know that a
woman’s glance and tone could affect
him so. He had been surprised into
love; and she who had performed this
miracle was hi^ own wife, the woman he
was bound to love, cherish and sustain
unto the end!
The next morning Mrs. Cameron asked
her husband if he had any patients on
the East Side. He answered that he
had a few, but thaf he mainly rode
over there to visit Dr. Molesworth’s pa
tient at the hospital.
“Who is doing well?” she inquired.
"Who is doing very well.”
“Would you mind”—she spoke timid
ly—“if I sometimes went with you when
you go to visit the poor? I should like
being with you and I should like to see
the people you help.”
“You would?” A new light visited
his face. It had been a dream of his to
have a wife who would take an interest
in his work.
"You shall go with me this very day,”
said he, and hurried her upstairs to gel
ready.
They drove to the hospital first. En
tering the ward where Bridget Halloran
lay, the woman whose case had been
transferred to Dr. Cameron by Moles
worth, they passed down through the
two lines of cots, where Genevieve at a
glance beheld more suffering than she
had ever seen before in hr life, and
came out into that part of the room de
voted to the use of this apeci&l patient.
As they did so. Dr. Cameron paused and
so did Genevieve, for seated beside the
poor woman was a man whose back,
turned toward them, roused in both a
strange feeling of surprise and bewilder
ment.
“Is it “ she whispered. But here the
gentleman rose and turned. There was
no longer reason for hesitation or doubt.
The face and form were those of Dr.
Molesworth.
Dr. Cameron stepped briskly forward.
“This is an unexpected pleasure," said
he. “How long ” But here he dis
creetly paused and gave his sentence
another turn, “have you been able to
be out?”
“Since yesterday,” was the brief re
ply. Here he bowed to Mrs. Cameron.
"You take an interest In our patient?”
he remarked.
"This is my first visit,” Bhe replied.
“I hope you are satisfied with her con
dition.”
Julius Molesworth let his grave gaze
rest on the fair face of his interlocutor
for a moment. Then he shook his head
and answered:
“The case Is mysterious, and I do not
altogether understand its secret work
ings, but I hope all will go well. My
greatest anxiety is that no mistake is
made behind my back. I <k> not allude
to you, doctor, you know that, but to
the woman. I shall, however, pursue
undeviatingly the line I have marked out
and I hope Dr. Cameron still agrees
with me that It is a wise one.”
He looked at his coadjutor as he
spoke, and that gentleman at once
bowed.
“She is doing well,” he remarked. “I
do not seew how you can expect any
thing more.”
Dr. Molesworth smiled, and waved his
hand toward the patient.
"Have your little talk with her?” he
suggested; "the good w*oman misses it.
She says you do so set her up with your
bright looks.” And he stepped {Aside to
another cot where he remainea for a
few minutes, while Dr. Cameron and his
wife talked to Bridget. But the moment
they turned to go, he was back again,
and. holding out his hand to Mrs.
Cameron, observed. “There are limita
tions to all our self-sacrifices; though
Dr. Cameron has done so well in my
absence, I can not say that 1 am sorry
to be at liberty again to take care of
my own patients.”
The Mistakes of Jennie .:. By hal coffman
Being a Series of Chapters in the Life of a Southern Girl in the Big City
Asking if he might not help her home.
CHAPTER XXVI.
T OM Anally prevailed on Jennie’s mother to ac
cept the little money he had saved up and
take Jennie with her and go down t» the
beach somewhere and have a good rest and fresh
air.
Tom told Jennie to try to "stick It out” at the
place where she was working until the end of the
week, when she got paid, as he was afraid the man
she was working for would not pay her at all ff
she told him she was leaving at once. This Jen
nie did, and Saturday, when she got her Ave dol
lars, she didn’t say a word to the man about leav
ing, for she was fearful of another "scene” like
the one they had had before.
Jennie and Tom went down to a little, inexpen
sive place at the beach to try to And a house for
Jennie and her mother to live In, which they Anally
succeeded In doing. It was a cheap, cozy little
place, that made Tom exclaim: “Jennie, girl. I
wish this was OUR house and we were married
and were just coming to spend our honeymoon.”
But'Jennie evaded the subject and talked of other
things.
After they got Jennie’s mother moved down
which they did with a great deal of trouble, as Jen
nie’s mother was very sick, Tom went back to town
and work, saying he would be down whenever he
could.
That night Jennie went down to the small store
to get some groceries and, coming back, dropped
one of the packages, which a very handsome young
man In a yachting suit plcke’d up for her, asking If
he might not help her home with her bundles.
—BAL COFFMAN.
(To Be Continued.)
Animal Tragedies That Have Helped Science
By GARRETT P. SERVISS.
T HE photograph accompanying: this
article has a significance that
does not appear on the surface.
As you see it, it is the picture of half
a dozen huge whales that have become
stranded and have died in the shallow
waters of Penzance Bay, England. It
excites interest because of the great size
and power of these creatures which be
long to the animal species which pro
duces the largest Individuals that are
now known to inhabit the earth. There
have been larger animals than elephants
on the land, but It is thought that the
ocean has never contained monsters su
perior in size to the w’hales of to-day.
The spectacle of a single stranded whale
draws crowds of curious and wondering
onlookers, but to see five or six of them
that have perished together is a sight
worth traveling far to look upon.
But there is a deeper source of inter
est in this scene than that awakened by
the gigantic size and power of the vic
tims of the accident that produced it.
Those whales have been destroyed Just
because they were too large and too
heavy to get out of the labyrinth of
sand spits among which a high tide had
tempted them. That same kind of acci
dent has been happening to the inhabit
ants of this earth for milions of years,
and but for such accidents we should
have known far less than we do of the
strange creatures that dwelt upon our
planet ages ago.
They May Exist.
If the skeletons -of those stranded
whales were allowed to lie In Penzance
Bay. undisturbed, becoming gradually
burled deeper and deeper in the sand,
they would In time become changed Into
fossils, and then, a hundred thousand,
or a million, years in the future some
cmious geologist of another age, when
living whales had become extlnot. might
dig them up, or suspend them, in mu
seums as object lessons in the animal
wonders of a long-past time.
We do the same thing to-day. The
most interesting and gigantic fossils of
extinct animals that our museums con
tain would never have existed but for
the occurrence of accidents similar to
that which put an end to the lives of
those whales In Penzance Bay.
The great mastodons whose remains
have been discovered in the United
States, which they inhabited, perhaps,
when the earliest men were Just begin-
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ning to chip flints into the form of knives
and arrow-Jieads were all mired in
marshes, where the" perished miserably
because their weight sunk them deeper
with every struggle. We do not find the
remains of the thousands and thousands
of mastodons that died a natural death,
becgqse they left their bodies where the
regular processes of decay and disin
tegration could rapidly dispose of them.
There is an animal of past time called
the Iguanodon, a prodigious creature
feet long and 14 or 15 feet tall, which
was evidently very common on the con
tinent of Europe many millions of years
ago. But huge as were the bones of
the iguanodons, they have almost all
disappeared except in places where the
animals became the victims of accident
which left them in such a situation that
they could be Apidly covered up with
sand, clay • or mud, which, thickening
and solidifying for ages, gradually in
cased them as in a preservative cement.
A wonderful accident of this kind, mil
lions of years ago. overwhelmed a whole
herd of Iguanodons in that part of Eu
rope which is now Belgium, near a place
called Bernissart. It Is believed from
appearances that a tremendous storm, a
cloudburst it may be, overtook them,
and swept them, all together, into a
deep ravine where they were swiftly
buried by inpouring mud, which after
ward solidified into rock. Then, while
they lay there, the great Coal Age came
on and made another deposit above their
burial place. At last came man, dig
ging for coal to burn, using his brains
to revolutionize life oh earth, and found
the buried skeletons of such creatures
as he had never seen, and read their
story with his intelligence as clearly al
most as If he had been present looking
on when that Infinitely ancient storm,
swept the Iguanodon herd to swift de
struction.
A Death Trap.
Mr. Pyoraft, an Engllah naturalist,
calls attention to what ho call* "th«
most awful death trap In the world.”
This exists fn California. It Is the as
phalt lake at Rancho la Brea.
For ages an unceasing series of ani
mal tragedies has been In progress on
Its treacherous shores. Here, too. the
stories of the death struggles of the In
numerable victims can be read. Such
animals as camels—camels In California
—came to the edge of the water to drink
and found themselves caught In the
sticky asphalt. Then saber-toothed ti
gers pursued them, seized their prey,
but, Instead of carrying It triumphantly
off, became themselves the victims of
the black clinging slime. Wolves and
even eagles have been caught In tills
trap, and are caught there to-day.
A Hint.
"Oh, Mr. Muttonleigh, Tm so glad to
have ruij across you, I am giving a
beach party next Monday evening and I
want you to come.”
"Thank you, I shall be delighted.”
"And wear clothes, please. The police
are becoming awfully particular.”
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