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FRIDAY. JANUARY 23.
The Mystery of the Boule Cabinet
PROLOGUE.
If a literary miner were to ap
praise this story he would say
of it:
“ft pans out a big percentage
of thrills."
There's "pay dirt" in this mys
tery story for every lover of an
exciting tale and an interesting
plot. It is one of the master
pieces of its author, who is a rec
ognised leader in the field of the
detective story.
Round a beautifully inlaid cab
inet dating from the days of
Louis XIV. which stands in a
Fifth avenue mansion weaves a
story of plot and counterplot,
mystery, suspense and surprise.
Jim Godfrey, shrewdest of re
porters, and the detective bu
reaus of New York and Paris are
trying to unravel the intricately
entangled clews. And the read
er, too, wtll go along with them,
breathless and absorbed, getting
now a hint, again coming up
against a blank wall, until, like
them he comes to the amaxing
exp'anatinn. And the one who
ba/f.es reporters, detectives and
readers is Crochard, the invinci
ble. a creation m detective fic
tion.
(Continued from Yesterday)
"I cot Roger* to hod. sir,” he said
"He'll he all rlcht in the morning
But he’s a queer duck.”
"How lone have yoh known him.
Parks?"
"He's been with Mr. Vantine about
five years. I don’t know much about
him. He’s a silent kind of fellow,
keepinc to hisself a good deal and
sort of brooding over things. But he
did Ills work all right, except once In
a while when he keeled over like he
did tonight.”
“Parks." 1 snid suddenly, “I'm going
to ask you u question. You know
that Mr. Vantine was u friend of mine,
and 1 /..ought a great deal of him.
Now. what with this story Rogers tells
and one or two other things, there is
talk of a woman. Is there any foun
dation for talk of that kind?”
“No, sir.” said Parks emphatically.
”I’ve been Mr. Vantine’s valet for
eight years and more, atod in all that
time he has never been mixed up with
a woman in any shape or form. 1 al
ways fancied he’d loved a lady who
died.”
“Thank yon. Parks,” T snid with a
aigh of relief. “I’ve been through so
much today that I felt I couldn’t en
dure that. And now”—
"Beg pardon, sir,” said a voice at
my elbow. “We have everything
ready, sir."
1 turned with a start to see a little,
clean shaven man.
“The undertaker's assistant, sir,” ex
plained Parks, seeing my look of as
tonishment. “He came while you and
Mr. Godfrey were In the music room."
“Where shall we put the body, sir?”
asked the man.
“Why not leave it where It is?” 1
asked impatiently.
“Very good, sir,” said he, and pres
ently the undertaker and his assistant
took themselves off, to my Intense re
lief.
“And now, Parks," I began, “there is
something I want to say to y*u. Let
go somewhere and sit down.”
“Suppose we go up to the study, sir
You're looking regularly done up. If
you’ll permit me to say so. sir.”
A few minutes later we were sitting
opposite each other In the room where
Vantine an 3 1 had sat not many
hours before. I liked Parks, and I felt
he could be trusted. At any rate. 1
bad to take the risk.
"Now. Parks,” I begnn again, "what
I have to say to you is very serious,
and I want yon to keep it to yourself.
I know that yon were devoted to Mr.
Vantine 1 may as well tell you that
be has remembered you In bis will. I
am sure you are willing to do any
thing in your power to help solve the
mystery of his death. 1 have a sort of
Idea how his death came about. The
mystery, whatever It Is. Is in the ante
room where the bodies were found or
In the room next to It where the furni
ture is. Now, 1 am going to lock up
those rooms, and 1 want you to see
that nobody enters them without your
knowledge."
"Not very likely that anybody will
want to enter them, sir.” and Tarks
laughed a grim little laugh.
“1 am not so sure of that." 1 dis
sented. speaking very seriously. "In
fact. 1 am of tlie opinion that there Is
somebody who wants to enter those
rooms very badly. 1 am going to make
It your business to keep him out and
to capture him If you catch him trying
to get lu."
•Trust me for that, sir.” said Parks
promptly. "What is it yon want me
to do?"
j l want you to put a cot In the ball
wny outside the door of the anteroom
and sleep there tonight. Tomorrow 1
will decide what further precautions
are necessary." _
■ By Burton E. Stevenson I
Copyrighted 1913 by Burton K Stevenaon.
"Very Rood, sir." said Parka. “I'll
Ret the cot up at once.”
••There 1* one thlnp more." I went
on. "1 have Rivet) the coroner my per
sonal assurance that none of the serv
ant* will leave the hoti*e until after
the Inquest. I suppose 1 can rely on
them?"
“Oh. yea. sir. I’ll see they under
stand how Important It Is.”
"Rogers, especially," I added. looking
at him.
"1 understand, air." said I’nrka.
“Very well. And now lef na ro
down and lock up those rooms.”
They were still ablaze with llßht. but
both of us faltered a little. I think, on
the threshold of the anteroom, for In
the middle of the floor stood a stretcher,
and on It was an object covered with a
sheet. Its outlines horribly suggestive.
But 1 took myself In hand and en
tered. Parka followed me and closed
the door.
The anteroom had two windows, and
the room beyond, which was a corner
one. bad three. All of them were
locked, but a pane of glass seemed to
me an absurdly fragile barrier against
any one who really wished to enter.
“Aren't there some wooden shutters
for these windows?" I asked.
“Yes, sir; they were taken down yes
terday and put In the basement. Shall
1 get them?"
“I think you'd better," I said. "Will
you need any help?"
“No, sir; they’re not heavy. If you’ll
wait here, you can snap the bolts into
place when 1 lift them up from the
outside."
“Very well.” I agreed, and Parks hur
ried away.
1 entered the Inner room and stop
ped before the Boule cabinet. There
was a certain nlr of arrogance about
It. as It stood there In that blaze of
light: something threatening, too:
something sinister and deadly—
There was a rattle at the window,
and 1 saw Parks lifting one of the
shutters into place. I threw up the
sash, and pressed the heavy bolts care
fully Into their sockets, then closed
the sash and locked it. The two other
windows were secured in their turn,
and with a last look about the room.
I turned out the lights The anteroom
windows were soon shuttered In the
same way. Then, before extinguish
Ing the lights 1 approached that silent
figure on the stretcher, lifted the sheet
and looked for the Inst time upon the
face of my dead friend. It was no
longer staring and terrible, but calm
I Pressed the Heavy Bolts Carefully
Into Their Bockete.
and peaceful ns in sleep—almost smil
ing. With wet eyes aud contracted
throat. 1 covered the face again, turn
ed out the lights and left the room.
A sudden thought occurred to me.
“Parks,” I said, “Is It true that there
Is a burglar alarm on all the win
dows?"
“Yes. sir It rings a bell In Mr. Van
tine’s bedroom and another In mine
and sends In a call to the police.”
"Why didn’t It work when I opened
those windows Just now?" I demanded
Parks laughed.
"Because I threw off the switch, sir,”
he explained, "when I came out to get
the shutters The switch Is In a little
iron box on the wall Just back of the
stairs, sir. It’s one of my duties to
turn It on evjry night before 1 go
to bed.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Is It on again now?”
“It certainly I*. sir. After what you
told me I’d not be likely to forget it.”
"You'd better have a weapon handy,
too." I suggested.
“I have u revolver, sir.”
"That's good. And don't hesitate to
use it I’m going home. I’m dead
tired."
"Shall I call a cab. sir?”
"No: the walk will do me good. I’ll
see you tomorrow."
The walk uptown did me good. It
was long past midnight when 1 finally
turned In at the Marathon. Higgins,
the Janitor t was just dosing the outer
doom, and he joined me In t"he elevator
a moment Inter
"There's a gentleman waiting to see
you. sir," he said as the car started
upward. "Mr. (lodfrey. sir. He came
in about len minutes ugo He said
yon were expecting him, so I let him
Into your rooms."
I found Godfrey lolling In an easy
chair, and he looked up with u suille
at my entrance.
"How do you keep It up, Godfrey?"
I naked, sitting down opposite him
"You don't seem tired ut all "
"1 am tired, though." he said, "a lit
tie But I've got a fool brnin that
won't let my body go to sleep so long
as there Is work to l»e done Besides.
I have a thing or two to tell you."
"Go ahead." I said.
"We had a cable from our Paris of
flee Just before I left. It seems that
M. Theophlle D'Aurelle plays the fiddle
In the orchestra of the C'nfe (le Paris
He played as usual tonight, so that It
Is manifestly Impossible that he should
also be lying In tin- New York morgue.
Moreover, none of Ills friends, so far
as he knows. Is In America. No doubt
be may be able to Identify the photo
graph of the dead man. and we’ve nl
ready started one on the way. but we
can't hear from It for six or eight days.
But my guess was right—the fellow's
name isn't D'Aurelle.”
“You say yon have n photograph?"
"Yes; I had some taken of the body
this afternoon. Here’s one of them
Keep It You may have a use for It"
I took the card. and. as 1 gazed at
the face depicted upon It I realized
that the distorted countenance I had
seen In the afternoon bad given me
no idea of the man's appearance. Now
the eyes were closed and the features
composed and peaceful, but even death
failed to give them any dignity. It
was a weak and dissipated face, the
face of a hangef on of cases, of a loit
erer along the boulevards.
“1 don’t see what business he could
have had with Philip Vantine.” 1 said.
“Neither do I; but no doubt we can
establish this fellow's identity In time
—sooner than we think, perhaps, for
most of the morning pnpers will run
his picture, and if he is known here in
New York at all, it will be recognized
by some one. When we find out who
be Is, we can probably guess at the
nature of his business with Vantine.
We can find out who the woman was
who called to see Vantine tonight—that
Is Just a case of grilling lingers: then
we can run her down and get her se
cret out of her. We can find why Rog
ers Is trying to shield her. All that Is
comparatively simple. But we don't
want to know these things. What we
want to know is how Philip Vantine
and this unknown Frenchman were
killed. And that is Just the one thing
which, 1 am convinced, neither the
man nor the woman nor Rogers nor
anybody elße we have come across In
this case enn tell us. There’s a per
sonality behind all this that we haven’t
even suspected yet. and which, T am
free to confess. I don’t know how to
get at"
“Godfrey,” T said, “what lam about
to tell you is told In confidence, and
must be held In confidence tiutll I give
you permission to use It Do you
agree?”
"Go on,” he snid, his eyes on my
face.
“Well, I believe I know how these
two men were killed Listen."
And I told him in detail the story of
the Boule cabinet 1 repeated Van
tine’s theory of its first ownership; I
nnmed the price which be was ready
to pay for it; I described the difference
between an orlglnul and a counterpart
and dwelt upon Vantine's assertion
that this was an original of unique and
unquestionable artistry.
“Beautiful!” Godfrey murmured from
time to time. “Immense! What a
case It will make, Lester!" he cried
“Then you see It too?” I questioned.
"See It?” and he dropped into his
ehnlr again "A man would be blind
not to see It But nil the same, f.ester,
I give you credit for putting the fncts
together.”
CHAPTER VI.
Guesses at the Riddle.
are the facts of our
B—Jj case." and Godfrey checked
them off on Ills fingers.
"The cabinet contains a se
cret drawer. This Is Inevitable If It
really belonged to Mine de Montespan.
Any cabinet made for her would be
certain to have n secret drawer. That
drawer must be adequately guarded,
and therefore a media rilsm was de
vised to stab the person attempting to
open It and to Inject into the wound a
poison so powerful ns to cause Instant
death. Ami right so far?"
"Wonderfully right.” I nodded. “I
bad not put It so clearly even to my
self. Go ahead.”
"We come to the conclusion, then.”
continued Godfrey, "tbnt the huslni-*s
of this unknown i'rencbinan with Van
tine In some way concerned this cabi
net ’
“Vnntine himself thought so.” I broke
In. "Fie told rue afterward that It was
because he thought so He consented to
see him.”
(Tc bp Confirmer* Tomorrow.)
Why are there twice as many
widows as widowers In the United
States?
THE AUGUSTA HERALD, AUGUSTA. GA.
His Daughter, His Dinner— The Child in His Factory
Many a man proud
of himself and his
money in this country
would be the centre of
a swarm of childish
ghost-faces if he had
his deserts; he would
neither eat nor sleep
nntil it came his time
to visit the graveyard
permanently.
If the Exploiters of Child Labor Had Imagination or Heart Their Peace of Mind Would Often Be Disturbed by a Ghost
Like This at the Dinner Table. (See editorial.)
Other Ghosts Than Banquo’s
Ought To Be Written
Into Plays
The Man Who Turns the Lives of Children Into Money,
Dresses His Wife and Dauqhter With the Lives and
Blood of Other People’s Children. Is More a Murderer
Than Macbeth, and He, Too. Should Be Haunted.
Copyright 1914 by Star Company.
The Government of the United States is wondering
whether or not it will stop murders in Mexico.
When will the Government of the United States make
up its mind to stop the murdering of children iN AMERICA
IN BUSINE3S, IN THE NATIONAL GAME OF EARNING
DIVIDENDS AND PILING UP MILLIONS?
We ought to interfere in Mexico, of course. Wc ought
to stop the murders of men and women and children.
Probably we shall do so.
But when shall we stop the murders here at home?
When shall we make it illegal for a man to do with
machinery and fines and early hours and heartbreaking
work and high-speed machines MURDER BY WHOLE
SALE?
We attract your attention today by the picture on this
page of a working child appearing as a ghost at the din
ner table of a child-exploiter.
You know the famous scene of Banquo's appearance at
the feast.
Macbeth has just had him murdered, and sit 3 down to
enjoy himself with his wife and courtiers. - 1
But the whost of Banquo leaves the corpse thrown
into the ditch and appears at the table before Macbeth’ a
eyes. It is no longer a pleasant dinner for Macbeth.
What a pity that the ghosts of murdered children could
1.4; v:f. |
rnmmi I ' ■
M|f 1 H
not do for their employers— THEIR MURDERERS—what
Banquo’s ghost did for Macbeth.
You may see in restaurants, in splendidly furnished
houses, men with money, their wives and families well
dressed, polite servants waiting upon them—and if the
ghosts of the children they have murdered in their divi
dend earning could appear you would see thousands and
thousands of thin, white faces, faces of children driven
into the grave before they were old enough to know life’s
meaning.
Many a man proud of himself and his money in this
country would be the centre of a swarm of childish ghost
faces if he had his deserts; he would neither eat nor sleep
until it came Mm time to visit the graveyard PERMANENT
LY. *
It is atrocious to permit men in Mexico to murder
othc. men.
It is horrible that brute force should take helpleßS
creatures, stand them up against a wall and shoot them
down in dozens.
But is it not infinitely worse, in our own country,
without the pretext of war or hatred, to permit one power
ful man to ute his money, his foremen and his machines to
deprive children of air, of 3 unlight, of hope, of oppor
tunity?
When will murders for profit be stopped in the United
Stater? How long will it be before that which is nobody’s
business shall become everybody’s business?
How long will it take the Government that forbids dog
fights and bull fights and cruelty to other animals TO
FORBID MATCHING THE STRENGTH OF A DELICATE
CHILD AGAINST THE SPEED OF A MACHINE, AND
WEARING OUT THE LIFE THAT HAS HARDLY BEGUN?
That prosperity nn l Immorality »: >
together Ih the surprising statement
inuile by the Central South London
Kr<e t'hurch Council In the annual
report of ltn aoelal purity rescue and
temperance sections.
JOW LONG WILL it
I take the govern
ment that forbids dog
fights and bull fights
and cruelty to other
animals to forbid the
matching the strength
of a delicate child
against the speed of a
machine, and wearing
out the life that has
hardly begun ?
Ml ’s Belle Keirney, of Mississippi,
hijh that there are 011,000 more whits
women In the South than there are
colored persons of both sexeß. There
fore, no one need be ufrald that the
colored woman's vote will dominate
thlnga Ui the South.
FIVE