Decatur Daily Democrat, Volume 11, Number 22, Decatur, Adams County, 25 January 1913 — Page 4

A BUTTER AND EGG ACCOUNT A short time ago enterprising woman made SIOO. front selling butter and hold stove, she (aut it in a Bank Account. She added to it and to-day has in Bank $246.15. She is one of our 200 women depositors. You can open an account here for SI.OO You can bring it or mail it. May we help you accumulate money? FIRST NATIONAL BANK Decatur, Indiana.

rjsi icz,i EstOEsoim i i e=i 8 THE DAILY MARKET REPORTS jo yirr———fr^nr-rni— rt - iivy £T Corrected Every Afternoon ||

EAST BUFFALO. East Buffalo, N. Y., Jan 25—(Special to Daily Democrat) —Receipts, 6,400; shipments, 4,940; o;cial to New York yesterday, 9,030; hogs closing steady. Medium and heavy, [email protected]; Yorkers, [email protected]; pigs and lights, 17.75; roughs, $6.75@>6.85; stags, [email protected]; sheep, 6,200; steady; top lambs, $9.10; cattle, 450; slow. ♦ eamrNew ear corn 60 No. 2 Red wheat sl.Ol No. 2 White wheat 98c Oats 30c Sample stainew oats 26c Rye 55c Barley 40c@50c .Feeding barley .45c Alsike seed $10.75 No. 1 timothy hay $ll.OO No. 1 mixed SIO.OO No. 1 clover SIO.OO Rye straw $6.50 Oats straw $6.00 Whteat straw $6.00 Clover seed $9.50 Timothy seed $1.25 COAL PRICES. Stove and Egg, hard $8.75 Chestnut, hard $9.00 Pea, Hard $7.50 Poca., Egg and Lump $5.50 W. Ash $4.50 V. Splint $4.50 H. Valley $4.25 R. Lion $4.50

Among The Stars in the liquor world our whiskey stands out brilliantly from ordinary brands. It looks better, smells better, taste better and is better. To try a bottle is to stamp one’s gcod judgement of what is a good wholesome stimulant as well as the finest kind of beverage.

Berghoff Beer by the case. \ r V Corner of Sec n and ■ Madison streets.

LOST—Hand bag containing purse and glasses. Return to Mrs. Shaffer Peterson or to thta Office. 12t3 —o - — FOR RENT—A 95-acre fanr, three miles southeast of Decatur. Inquire of Mary J. Ray, or Jesse Ray, Pleasant Mills, Ind. 21t12

Old Adams County Bank Decatur, Indiana. Capital $129,000 ;•••• jis Surplus . $30,000 » C. S. Niblick, President ® I M. Kirsch and John Niblick Vice Presidents I ® | Cashier. I [ ' 1 DoqH i Farm loans I KeaQ a Specialty lies...— Resolve Collections b«/" no Made Head Off those Dolla”* STS. IT’S A FRIGHT | __ Hjw Quickly Every They Take Their Flight! A tion Com’ Change The Channel sistent Divert Them Here! banking And Count Your Gain E “ e a d At The End Os A Year To our Patrons We Pay 4 Per Cent Interest on 1 Year Time Deposits

Canneil sc.co ;J- Hill . I Kentucky 54 53 - Lurig |4 5 O KALVER MARKETS. ; Beef hides lOc 'Calf Tallow 5 C Sheep pelts [email protected]« Muskrats sc@4se > Skunk [email protected] 1 Coon [email protected] Possum 10c@70c Miak 25c©56.00 , HJLuErvKAMP'S. Eggs 30c j ; Butter 20c@25c l ard 8c NIEA.ICK 4 CO. Eggs 2)c : Butter 18c@25c H. Btrrt-iNGu 1 Spring chicks 9c Ducks 10c 1 Fowls 9c 1 Geese 9c ' Eggs 27c 1 Butter 19c Turkeys 1,5 c ■ Old roosta’s &c LOCAL PrtoCUCE MARKET Spring chicks 10c 1 Ducks t...... 10c i 1 Fowls ~...10c 1 Geese 8c ' 1 Eggs 18c ' Butter 18c ■ Turkeys , 11c • ■ Old roosts-« 5e

1 " / / > ;- 7\

GOOD LOT “OR SALE. / We offer a splendid lot for residence, cornel* Eighth and Adams streets, Decatur; easy terms, SSO or SIOO down. Balance to suit purchaser. ERWIN & MICHAUD, llt6 Real Estate Dealers.

THE THIRD DEGRI

THE THIRD DEGREE—gsntlnusd. •trala whtah the mm »m ua4«r In tAa sxMtssaeat he had fsrgotien about Haward'a praaaaoa oa the divan bekla4 tka screes. A Uateaar might kava dataatad tka heavy braatkiag of the sleejer, but even Allot* herself waa too praocoupied to notice it. Underwood extended hia arms pleadingly: “Aliota—tor the sake of auld lang syse!” “Auld lang syne,” she retorted. “I want to forget the past. The old memoriae are distasteful. My only object la coming here to-night was to make the situation plain to you and to ask you to promise me not to —carry out your threat to kill yourself. Why should you kill yourself? Only cowards do that. Because you are In trouble? That is the coward's way out. Leave New York. Go where you are not known. You are still young. Begin life over again, somewhere else.” Advancing toward him, she went on: "If you will do this I will help you. I never want to see you again, but I’ll ijii 1 lr \VA v / F e What Was the Good of Regrets? try not to think of you unxlndly. But you must promise me solemnly not to make any attempt against your life.” “I promise nothing,” muttered Underwood doggedly. “But you must,” she Insisted. “It would be a terrible crime, not only against yourself, but against others. You must give me your word." Underwood shook his head. “I promise nothing.” “But you must,” persisted Alicia. “I won’t stir from here until I have your promise.” He looked at her curiously. “If my life has no interest for you, why should you care?" he asked. There was a note of scorn in his voice which aroused his visltoa's wrath. Crumpling up his letter in her hand, she confronted him angrily. “Shall { tell you why I care?" she cried. “Because you accuse me In this letter of being the cause of your death —I, who have been your friend in spite of your dishonesty. Oh', it's des- j plcable, contemptible! Above all, it's a lie—” Underwood shrugged his shoulders : Cynically he replied:

"So it wasn't so much concern foi I ' me as for yourself that brought you i here.” Alicia's eyes flashed as she an swered: “Yes, I wished to spare myself this Indignity, the shame of being associated in any way with a suicide. 1 was afraid you meant what you said ’ "Afraid.” interrupted Underwooc bitterly, “that some the scandal might reach as far as thia arlstocrajir Mrs. Howard Jeffries, Sr;"!" Her face flushed with anger, Alicia paced up and down the room. The man’s taunts stung her to the quick In away, she felt that he was right She ought to have guessed his charge ter long ago and had nothing to de with him. He seemed desperate enough to do yet) she doubt ed if he had the'couragb to kill him self. She thought she would try more conciliatory methods, so, stopping short, she said more gently: "You know my husband has suffered through the wretched marriage of his only son. You know how deeply we both feel this disgrace, and yet you would add —" Underwood laughed mockingly. "Why should I consider your bus band's feelings?” he cried. "He dfdn’l consider mine when he married you.’ Suddenly bending forward, every nerve tense, he continued hoarsely: “Alicia, I tell you I’m desperate. I’tr hemmed in on all sides by creditors You know what your friendship—youi patrontfcg* means? If you drop mt now, your friends will follow—they'rt a lot of sheep led by you—and toher my creditor:? hear of me they'll be down on me like a flock of wolves I’m not, able to mata a settlement Prison stares me In the face.” Glancing around at the handsome ' furnishings, Alicia replied carelessly: I "I’m not re sensible foT your wrong ' doing. I want to protect my friends If they are of sheep, as yoi» sfly that is precisely why I should wan them. They have implicit confidence in me. You have borrowed their mon ey, cheated them at cards, stolen Iron: them. Your acquaintance with me has given them the opportunity. But now I’ve found you out. I refuse any long I er to sacrifice my friends, my self-re . spect; my sense of decency.” Angrily she continued: “Yon thought you could bluff .me. You've adopted this cow ard’s way of forcing me to receive you against my \will. Well, you’ve failed. I will not sanction your rob bing my friends. I will not allow you to sell them any more of your high priced rubbish, or permit you to cheat them at cards.” Underwood listened in silence. He siood motionless, watching her flushed I face as she he:ped reproaches on him. I She was practically pronouncing his death sentence, yet he could not help f thinking how pretty she looked. When •

•be hr. 4 ftwlsbed ba ssN setting. but, to Ms 4«eh, he apaaart a small drawer aad took etrt a ravelver. Alleia reoolled, frighteaad 'What are jkri getag to def" she cried. Uadafrwood aml led bitterly "Oh, don't'be afraid. I wouldn't do It while yon are here. In apite of all I you've «ald to ate, I still think tod much of you for that.” Replacing the platol tn the drawer, he added: “Alleia, If you desert me now. you’ll be sorry to the day of your death.” Hia visitor looked at him In silence. I Then, contemptuously, she said: "I don’t believexyou Intend to carry ■ out your threat. I should have known ' from the first that your object was to ‘ frighten me. The pistol display was highly theatrical, but It was only a bluff. You've no more Idea of taking your life than I have of taking mine. I was foolish to come here. I might have spared myself the humiliation of 1 this clandestine interview. Good- I night!” 1 She went toward the door. Under- I wood made no attempt to follow he* 1 In a hard, strange voice, which he scarcely recognized as his own, he merely said: \ “Is that all you have to say?” “Yes,” replied as she turned at the door. "Let It be thoroughly understood that your presence at my house Is not desired. If you force ■ yourself upon me In any way. you must take the consequences.” Underwood bowed, and was silent. ! She did not see the deathly pallor of his face. Opening the door of the \ apartment which led to the hall, she ag%in turned. ,f Tell me, before I go—you didn’t 1 mean what you said in your letter, did you ?" "I’ll tell you nothing," Underwood doggedly. X She tossed her head scornfully. “I don't believe that a man who Is I coward enough to write a letter like I this has the courage to carry out his ' threat.” Stuffing the letter back into j her bag, she added: “I should have ; thrown It In' the waste-paper basket, i but on second thoughts, I think I'll ! keep It. Good-night." “Good-night,” echoed Underwood , mechanically. He watched her go down the long ! hallway and disappear in the elevator. Then, shutting the door, he came slowiy back Into the room and sat , down at his desk. For ten minutes he i sat there motionless, his head bent I forward, every limb relaxed. There was deep silence, broken only by How- ! awl's regular breathing and the loud ticking of the clock. "It's all up,” he muttered to himself. “It's no use battling against the tide, i The strongest swimmer must go under some time. I’ve played my last card ■ and I've lost Death is better than 1 going to jail. What good is life any- I way without money? Just a moment's nerve and it will all be over." Opening the drawer tn the desk, he took out the revolver again. He turned . it over in his hand and regarded fear- ■ fully the polished surface of the In-

strument that bridged life and death. He had completely forgotten Howard's presence In the room. On the thresh- . old of a terrible deed, his thoughts were leagues away. Like a man who is drowning, and close to death, ha saw with surprising distinctness a kaleidoscopic view' of his past life. He saw himself an innocent, impulsive school boy’, the pride of a devoted j mother, the happy home where he spent his childhood. Then came the I association with bad companions, the | first step in wrongdoing, stealing out ■ of a comrade’s pocket in school, the death of his mother, leaving home—r with downward progress until he gradually drifted into hl j present dishonest way of living. What was the good of regrets? He could not recall his mother to life. He could never rehab- | ilitate himself among decent men and wothen. The world had suddenly become too small for him. He must go, and quickly. Fingering the pistol nervously, he sat before the mirror and placed it against his temple. The cold steel gave him a sudden shock. He won- , dered if It would hurt, and if there i would be instant oblivion The glare i of the electric light in the room disconcerted him. It occurred to him that It would be easier in the dark. Reaching out his arm, he turned the electric button, and the room was immediately plunged into darkness, except for the moonlight which entered through the windows, imparting a ghostly aspect to the scene. On the other side of the room, behind the screen, a red glow from the open fire fell on the sleeping form of Howard ■ Jeffries. Slowly, deliberately, Under* oud raised the pistol to his temple ami fired. » CHAPTER VIII. I , “Hello! What’s that?” Startled out of his Gargantuan slumber by the revolver’s loud report,; i Howard sat up with a jump and i j rubbed his eyes. On the other side of the screen, concealed from his ob- . servation, there was a heavy crash of a body falling with a chair—then, all was quiet. ; Scared, not knowing where he W’as, Howard jumped to his feet. For a moment he stood still, trying to collect his senses. It was too dark to discern anything plainly, but he could dimly make out outlines of aesthetic furniture and bibelots. Ah, he remembered now! He was in UndefT ' wood’s apartment. Rubbing his eyes, he tried to recall . how he came there, and slowly his befuddled brain began to work. He remembered that he needed 42,000, and that he had called on Robert Underwood to try and borrow the money. Yes, he recalled that perfectly well.

Than he *a4 VnberwoW get aud talking, and he had fallen aatoep lie sheught he bad heard a woiaaa s vetae —« vo4oe he knew. Perhaps that was oaly a dream. He m*M have been asleep some time, beeaaee the lights were out aad, seemingly, everybody had gone to bod. He wondered what the noise which started htzn sou Id have been. Suddenly bo board a groan He listened intently, but all was still. The silence was uncanny. Now thoroughly frightened, Howard cautiously groped his way about, I trying to find the electric button. He had no idoa what time it was. It must be very late. What an ass he was to drink so much! Ho wondered ! what Annie would say when be didn t I return. Ha was a hound to let her sit up and worry like that. Well, this , would be a lesson to him —it was the last time he'd ever touch a drop. Os course, he had promised her the same • thing a hundred times before, but this I time he meant it. His drinking was ' always getting him into some fool 1 scrape or other. He was gradually working his way along the room, when suddenly he stumbled over something on the floor. It was a man lying prostrate. Stooping, he recognized the figure. “Why—it's Underwood!” he ex claimed. At first he believed his classmate was asleep, yet considered it strange that he should have selected so un- ‘ J j/T-J /X ■Mw. The Persistence of His Stare Made Howard Squirm. comfortable a place. Then It occurred to him that he might be ill. . Shaking him by the shoulder, he cried: "Hey, Underwood, what's the matter?" No response came from the prostrate figure. Howard stooped lower, to see better, and accidentally touching Underwood's face, fonnd it clamI my and wet. He held his band up in ' the moonlight and saw that it was covered with blood. Horror-stricken, I he cried: “My God! He’s bleeding—he's ! hurt!” What had happened? An accident —or worse? Quickly he felt the man’s pulse. It had ceased to beat. Underwood WRR dead

wooa was aeau. For a moment Howard was too much overcome by his discovery to know what to think or do. What dreadful tragedy could have happened? Carefully groping along the mantelpiece, he at last found the electric button and turned on the light. There, stretched out on the floor, lay Uaderwood. with,a bullet bole in his i left temple, from which blood had flowed freely down on his full-dress ; shirt. It was a ghastly sight. The I man’s white, set face, covered with a crimson stream, made a repulsive spectacle. On the floor near the body was a highly polished revolver, still smoking. Howard’s first supposition was that burglars had entered the place and ■ that Underwood had been killed while I defending his property. He remembered now that in his drunken sleep he had heard voices in angry altercation. Yet why hadn’t he called for assistance? Perhaps he had and he hadn’t heard him. He looked at the clock, and was surprised to find It was not yet midnight He believed it was at least five o’clock In the morning. It was evident that Underwood had never gone to bed. The shooting had occurred either while the angry dispute was going on or after the unknown visitor had departed. The barrel of the revolver was still warm, showing that it could only have been discharged a few moments before. Suddenly it flashed upon him that Underwood might have committed suicide. Rut it was useless to stand there theorizing. Something must be done> He must alarm the hotel people or call the police. He felt himself turn hot and cold by turn as'he realized the serious predicament in which he himself was placed. If he aroused ' the hotel people they would find him here alone with a dead man. Suspl- ! cion would at once be directed at him, anjl-it might be very difficult for him , to establish his Innocence. Who would believe that he could have fallen | asleep in a bed while a man killed 1 himself in the same room? It sounded I preposterous. The wisest course for him would be to get away before anybody came. Quickly he picked up his bat and made for the door. Just as he was about to lay hand on the handle there was the click of a latchkey. Thus 1 headed off, and not knowing what to do, he halted in painful suspense. I The door opened and a man entered. 1 .. He looked as surprised to see Howard as the latter was to see him. He' was clean-shaven and neatly dressed, 1 yet did not look the gentleman. His appearance was rather that of a serv- 1 ant. All these details flashed before Howard's mind before he blurted out"Who the devil are you?” | The mal looked astonished at the' -Willi —«■> -'..-T—---1

tuaauea a*6 sv* l taSenoeuwr doMly, MJ U tn deubi m *> hie idenu >y. lu a ooekaag aoewt be sail -•nily; “1 aw Farrta. Mr. taderwM-d's mar air." duupiaoualy. u addad: "Ax,uu a friend oi Mr Uadarwood'A »ir?’ He well ask ike question, foi .loward's disbevulad appaaraacu am ghastly face, still distorted by terror was anything but reassuring. Taket by surprise, Howard did not knoa what to say, "hud like most people questioned at a disadvantage, he ai: swered foolishly: Matter? No. What make* you think anything is the matter?” Brushing past the man, he added "it's late. I'm going.” "Stop a minute!” cried the man servant. There was something in Howard’s manner that he did not like Passing quickly into the sitting room, be called out: "Stop a minute!" But Howard did not stop. Terror gave him wings and, without waiting for the elevator, be was already half way down, the first staircase when he heard shouts behind him. "Murder! Stop thief! Stop that man! Stop that man!” There was a rush of feet and hum of voices, which made Howard run all the faster. He leaped down four steps at a time In his anxiety to get away. But it was no easy matter descending so many flights of stairs. It took him several minutes to reach the main floor. By this time the whole hotel was aroused. Telephone calls had quickly warned the attendants, who had promptly sent for the police. By the time Howard reached the main entrance he was intercepted by a mob too numerous to resist. Things certainly looked black for him. As he sat. white and trembling, under guard in a corner of the entrance hall, waiting for the arrival of the police, the valet breathlessly gave the sensational particulars to the rapidly growing crowd of curious onlookers. He bad taken his usual Sunday out and on returning home at midnight, as was his custom, he had let hituself id with his latchkey. To his astonishment he had. found this man. the prisoner, about to leawe the premises. His manner and remarks were so peculiar that they at once aroused his suspicion He hurried into the apartment and found his master ly'ng ddad on the floor in a pool of blood. In his hurry the assassin had dropped his revolver, which was lying near the corpse. As far as he could see, nothing bad been taken from the apartment. Evidently the man was disturbed at his work and. when suddenly surprised, had made the bluff that he was calling on Mr. Underwood. They had got the right man, that was certain. He was caught redhanded. and in proof of what he said, the valet pointed to Howard's right hand, which was still covered with blood. “How terrible!" exclaimed a woman bystander, averting her face. “So young, too!" "It's all a mistake, I tell you. It's fi 11 a mfatalrza " —— j

nil a mistake, cried Howard, almost panic-stricken. “I'm a friend of Mr. Underwood's.” 'Nice friend!" sneered an onlooker. Tell that to the police," laughed another. "Or to the marines!" cried a third. “It's the chair for his n!"iopined a fourth. By this time the main entrance hall was crowded with people, tenants and passersby attracted by the unwonted commotion. A scandal in high life is always caviare to the sensa-, tipn seeker. Everybody excitedly inquired of his neighbor: What is it? What's the matter?" Presently the rattle of wheels was heard and a heavy vehicle driven furiously, drew up at the sidewalk with a Jerk. It was the police patrol wagon, and in It were the captain of the precinct and a half dozen policemen and detectives. The crowd pushed forward to get a better view of the burly representatives of the law as, full of authority, they elbowed their way unceremoniously through the throng. Pointing to the leader, a ! big man in plain clothes, with a square, determined jaw and a bulldog ace, they whispered one to another: "That's Capt. Clinton, chief of the precinct. He’s a terror. - It’ll go hard with any prisoner he gets in his clutches!” Followed by his uniformed myrmidons. the police official pushed his way to the corner where sat Howard, dazed and trembling, and still guard~b r tbe VRlet and elevator boys. What s the matter here?” demanded the captain grudy, and looking from Ferris to the white-faced How- , trd. The valet eagerly told his story: • “I came home at midnight, sir, and . found my master, Mr. Robert Und*rI 't?Tk IZIKB L dcad ln thfc apartment, i - hot through the head." Pointing to | Howard, he added: “This man was , m the apartment trying to get away. I You see his hand is still covered with i blood. '< C Cli ” ton cackled, and expandI it t h:s mighty chest to its fullest, licked bls chops with satisfaction. This was the opportunity he had been | looking for—a sensational murder in 1 a big apartment hotel, tight in the , ! , eart of hiß P re cinct! Nothing I U . ld be ? ore to his liking. It was a , rich man s murder, the best kind to attract attention to himself. The | sensaJonal newspapers would be full iof the case. They would print col- ' T e^ ry d&y ’ to ß®ther with 'of rJuhH i, That * as Just th ® klnd I of publicity he needed now that he ThL W l 7 ! fOr “ ‘“’Pcctcrshlp. S’sh a ? ugt the man " with tbu goods —that was very dear , Promised himself to attend to the I was what he was 1 “ 888 “**“ tricky lawyer , got the best of him. Concealing, as

*how us authZu. . bl ”* , “rkg oXul* "f t<x>k ouMßum* of situation. Tuhvt,„ £4 *. >oUc * »«««*« at hi. B i (1 , •Malanay, this UHow may have had « Take four offleer. wauh ev.ry exit from the hotel Ar «yb°dy attempting to leave the JulMln.. Put two officers to wa!ch 2: ‘” .”a O T E “ d “• ■“ ‘ Tee, air,’ replied the sergeant, a B he turned away to execute the order Capt. Clinton gave two strides, for ward, and catching Howard by the col lar. jerkad him to his feet y ,? ng fel,er ' you com « "Uh me Well go upstairs and have a look at the dead man." Howard was at no time an athlete and now, contrasted with the burly policeman, a colossus In strength he seemed like a pimy boy. His cringing frightened attitude, as he looked up tn ' the captain's bulldog face, was pathetic. The crowd of bystanders could hardly contain their eagerness to take In every detail of the dramatic situation. The prisoner was sober by this time and thoroughly alarmed. "What do you want me for?” he cried. “I haven’t done anything. The man’s dead, but I didn't kill hint." “Shut your mouth!” growled the captain. Dragging Howard after him he made his way to the elevator. Throwing hia prisoner into the cage, he turned to give orders to his subordinate. "Maloney, you eome with me and bring Officer Delaney.” Addressing the other men, he said: “You other fellers look after things down here Don't let any of these people come upstairs." Then, turning to the elevator boy. he gave the command: “Up with her." The elevator, with its passengers, shot upward, stopped with a jerk at the fourteenth and the captain, once more laying a brutal hand on Howard, pushed him out into the cor ridor. If it could.be said of Capt. Clinton that he had any system at all, It was to be as brutal as possible with every, body unlucky enough to fall into hihands. Instead of regarding his pris oners as Innocent until found guilty, as they are justly entitled to be regarded law, be took the di rectly opposite stand. He considered all his prisoners as guilty as hell until they had succeeded in proving themselves Innocent. Even then he had his doubts. When a jury brought in a verdict of acquittal, he shook his head and growled. He had the greatest contempt for a jury that wou'd acquit and the warmest regard for a ' :r---which convicted. He bullied an treated his prisoners because he firm ly believed In undermining their mor al and physical resistance. Wb.-n by depriving them of sleep and food, b? choking them, clubbing them ar ’ frightening them he had reduced them to a state of nervous terror, to the border of physical collapse, hknew by experience that thev wou’!

num mil no longer be In condition to wi-' • J his merciless cross-examinations r - moralized, unstrung, they would I t ■ mit the truth and so convict then> wives. The ends of justice woui l : be served. Capt. Clinton prided himself ’ ,v---thorough manner in which he ed these examinations of per a der arrest. It was a laborious but always succesful. He o h present position on the fore skill with which he browbeat ' oners into "confessions." V. "third degree" seances he arm ’ i results better and more quick!) in any other way. Ail his cor : ’ bad b?en secured by them. Th and meddling busybodies call, system barbarous, a revival of ’ !.• • T time torture chamber. What . ! b l care what the people said as long as he convicted his man? Wasn't b! what he was paid for? He was th. rt to find tttb murderer, and he was -o ing to do it. He pushed his way into the apartment, followed closely by Maloney an! the other policemen, *vho drag? along the unhappy Howard. Thman still lay where he had tai'Capt. Clinton stooped down, but no attempt to touch the corp ly satisfying himself that I'ndwas dead. Then, after a casual - rt of the room, he said to his ser. ■: “We won't touch a thing. till the coroner arrives. He'!! ! • any minute, 'and he’ll give tl. for the undertaker. You can c .'I headquarters so the newspa; ' ! get the story.” While the sergeant w4nt to phone to carry out these ord< Clinton turned to look at How thud collapsed, white and tremlli ' to a chair. "What do you want with me Howard appealingly. “I assi" had nothing to do with this. ' expecting me home. Can’t I "Shut up!” thundered the - His arms folded, his eyes fixed upon him, Capt. Clinton confronting the unfortunate ystaring at hlnj without saying a « The persistence of his star ’ Howard squirm. It was decidedly pleasant. He did not mind the ■ tlon so much as this man’s overi-t ing, bullying manner. He knew h - Innocent, therefore he had nothing fear. But why was this police cap staring at him bo? Whiehev- r " he sat, whichever way his eyes turn he saw this bulldog-faced polices staring silently at him. Unknot him, Capt. Clinton had already be?the dreaded police ordeal known the “third degree." CHAPTER IX. Fifteen minu'teß passed wlthoui: « fl Wjffd being spoken. There was (To be Continued)