Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 31, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 February 1910 — The Quest of Betty Lancey [ARTICLE]

The Quest of Betty Lancey

By MAGDA. F. WEST

; CHAPTER YIII. Th® warrant was served on the Hafcourts that morning at six o'clock. Out of consideration for Mrs. Hhrcourt, whom her husband claimed was delicate, and who really looked A(as fragile as a piece of porcelain, Harcourta were not removed to the jail, but a cordon of sleuths was appointed to patrol their apartments. The hotel management was sorely wroth, ai\,d tried to Insist upon the departure of the Harcourts. but Harcourt camb down handsomely with an enormous amount of cash, and the mollified management became less censorious. Ear* ly that afternoon, Mrs. Harcourt fell very ill with a seemingly malignant fever an outgrowth of their long residence in India, so her husband said. There was a brief preliminary hearing at 2:30 in the Harcourt apartments. “My name is Harold Harcourt, and I live in the Hill-district, in India,” tested the witness, when called. I am 35 years of age and have been married to my wife for the past six years. She is 24, and we have been traveling for her health during the past taro years, following the accidental drown—ing of our baby son. My wife’s mind has never been perfectly clear since the harrowing moment when she pulled our dead son- out of the clutches of a treacherous pool, not fifty feet from her bedroom window. At the advice of physicians, wo have gone from country to country, seeking novelty and change, hoping to restore her to her normal state. My occupation? Why, I have none. I receive a large income from inherited properties, so does my wife, and jointly we own several -rich -diamond mines. We‘never saw the young woman, Miss Lancey, I believe her tigme is, at all. lam positive my wife never did until last evening. Why we should be held like incomprehensible to me. On this card you will find the names of a number of London, and Calcutta firms, who will give you any references of me you maycleaire.

“The night of the murder_of Gerlsse "Wayne we were in Milwaukee as our hotel bills" and receipts will ahow. The following afternoon late we arrived and went to the Directory Hotel; That evening I-was trying to explain to my wife some changes I was contemplating in my Indian estate and was sketching the plans with the idea of keeping her amused, as she had been particularly fretful and nervous all day. The room was close, and insufferable with the smell of steam pipes, So we had raised the window wide and flung high the shade. I drew out my wallet to get a memorandum'and in doing so pulled out by accident a little photograph of my wife that I always carry With me, and some important passports. The wind sent the curtain flying and whisked these papers out of my hanfi. I hurried to the window and say them light on an opposite fire escape and tried to recover them. As the hotel clerk has probably told you the papers were not recovered.” "Now, I trust, gentlemen, that my wife and I will be allowed to proceed without any further reference or entanglement in this most undesirable affair.”

"Wasn’t there a letter dropped out of your wallet?” asked Larry Morris, stepping forward. “If you please, I’d like to submit two exhibits, in evidence.” He produced the picture'and the letter that had been fished from the Are escape and proceeded to relate how they had been acquired. Harcourt’s face flushed with pleasure at sight of the photograph. When the letter was handed to him he paled, whether with fright or with anger, was Indistinguishable. "This is an insult,” he hissed. ‘ "What's your wife’s name, Mr. Harcourt?” asked the court. “My wife? Her name? Mrs. Harcourt, of course.” “Her first name?’ _ "Narclsse.” “Did you ever see this letter before?’ The hotel register was brought Into the room, and as expert testimony went to the effect that the signature qfl the register tallied with the conformation of the writing not only on the letter that had been picked up in the court-room, but with those found in the Wayne death chamber, Mr. Harcourt was requested to make copies of the documents and hand them to the court. Jle didfcthls with great trepidation, but the results were very unlike the originals. A movement was Begun to prove that Ms. Harcourt had painfully disguised his writing and the matter was thrown to the experts again. The man’s garter Johnny Johnson had picked up in the closet of Mrs. Wayne’s room, and a second one, only too plainly its mate, in the same gold emerald and amethyst design, marked with the initial “H,” that he had found Inside the threshold of the Flanders house at 94 Brlarsweet place, were shown to Harcourt. He disowned these emphatically and declared he had never seen either of them before. Larry Morris, sworn next, told of the the reasons for Betty’s visiting the .Harcourt apartments—displaying several photographs and sketches that had been made of the late Mrs. Wayne, remarking o* the great similarity between the appearances of the two women, and begging the court to see for itself. -■ ... ;■ a comparison between the living woman and the photograph was made. Mrs. Harcourt was in a comatose state and as she lay prostrate on the wide bed,

death pale and with her hair half unbound, the Inquest of the preceding day rose like a mirage! The quick and the dead seemed one. Harcourt was bound over till the fall term of court. No count was found against his wife. . ' r— ■■■£*, " U CHAPTER IX. When, two days later, Mr. Henry •'D. Franz, of Franz, Doubleday & Co., Bankers, San Francisco, California, arrived,, the Wayne murder mystery and the unaccountable disappearance of Betty Lansey were still in a chaotic and unsolveable state. Likewise the Man-Aperilla. His going was like his coming—unseen by man, unknown andall untraceable. Hamley Hggkleye, too, the strahge lessee of 94 “ Briarsweet place, was not to be found. The milkman, who claimed he had been paid for a month’s wares - in -advance, continued to leave a daily allowance of milk and cream on the back stopp, and the accumulation of bottles on the Flanders doorstep was waxing large. Cables from London brought word that Hackleye. was a younger son of the late Sir Walter Hackleye; that for four years past he had been conductirfg tropical explorations, and that he was possessed of ahMmmense private fortune. The immediate family, an aged mother and widowed sister, and two brothers, both unmarried, lived in England for years, and had heard nothing of Hamley that bore upon his life with any degree of definiteness. He was a bookish sort of fellow; imaginative and fond of original research, quiet,,and of no bad habits so far as they knew, agreed all reports. Nb photographs of him sinee he was a plump little codger of six were to be had. A copy of one of these so ran the message, was being made in London, and would be forwarded immediately upon completion.

Johnny Johnson felt that he had drawn a blank in his sleuthing expedition through the house at 94 Briarsweet Place, where the death chamber visitor had*vanished. The rooms smelled musty and the house bore the stamp of the unoccupied save for several suits of clothes, wearing the imprint of a Plcadiliy tailor, hanging in the closet of one of the bedrooms. These must have fitted a man of <*- medium height and build. There were no personal memoranda around, - and to all Intents *the house was the same as when Attorney Flanders had let it, nearly a week previous. The ggrter Johnny had found on the threshold was a woeful aggravation. “If the owner had only lost one of them," soliloquized Johnny, "1 might have traced him by matching the pair. As it is now, there’s no chance at all!" Mr. Franz, who was a plump little German, a alkde too well-tailored, a whit too urbane, had fetched with him a picture of Cerisse Wayne that tallied exactly with the portrait that had blown from Harcourt's window. That the same negative had permitted both prints was manifest. Then they led him into the presence of Mrs. Harcoqrt. She whs sitting in the shadow of the window wrapped in a wadded gown of poppy red silk. She was very listless and had not spoken a word for hours. Harcourt declared that this had been her wont at intervals si/iee the death of the baby. They sent Franz into the room a litof his escort. "Mrs. Wayne,” ejaculated the banker, letting fall his little black valise. “Why, they told me you were dead!” He advanced a few steps, and reached forth his hand, but the moment he glimpsed Mrs. Harcourt’s eyes he dropped his outstretched arm and stepped back.

“It —Is—It—is—not—the—Same,” he murmured, studying closely the faoe and flgpre before him. Mrs. Harcourt dropped her eyes in a terrified fashion and raised them again to find the soft, calm gaze of Philip Hartley fixed steadily upon her. For a full moment she looked sharply, composedly at Hartley, then from him to her husband, and then again to Franz. Springing from her chair, with the terror of a child, she flung aside her wrappings, and throwing herself upon Hartley! clung to him, screaming: "Oh, can’t .you save me from them;' save me, take me away; they kill me with those awful drugs!” •Franz paled and turned his horrified gaze out of the window. "The delirium again!” cried Har. court. "Poor girl, poor girl.” Harcourt strove to take his wife away, but Bhe would-not loose her grasp upon the arm of the reporter, and there was no gainsaying the clasp of those cold and tautly Interlocked fingers. Hartley, thetender, coaxed the frightened woman Into the bedroom, ind despite Harcourt’s expostulations ■ sent'for a doctor., Harcourt swore they would kill her and declared himself a better man of medicine than half the* practitioners in -the town. Every time he approached his wife, however, .she broke into frightful screarhs, and kept her eyes constantly averted from her husband’s gaze. The sight of Franz appeared to have broken some chain, have forged some link In her mind that bore directly upon this mystery—unfolding mystery. == _•. ™_. —While they anticipated th»~ jfidCfor the examination of Henry Franz went *tn- -It Was disappointing in Its in lnQf result. . ' 'L:I " V "T - But tho body us Certsse Wayne had been taken from the vault where it la/ pending identification by Mr. Franz, so froip Mrs. Harcourt's rooms they led him to the body. (Then the coffin

Ud was loosened anA the shrouded figure of the dead woman was revealed. She was more the Image of Mrs. Harcourt than Mrs. Harcourt herself. For Mrs. Harcourt, when they left her, was sunk in a de&dlyx'oma, and the'nivor of death seemed reflected on her countenance. Cerisse Wayne lay there,, calm, quiet, and all at ease, like sleeping marble. “Wonderful, wonderful! The likeness,” commented Mr. Franz. He scrutinized the face and hands ot the corpse closely and said slowly: “I am positive that this is the woman that our firm knew as Cerisse Wayne. Who the woman at the Directory Hotel may be, the woman who so closely resernbte*\ser, I cannot say. All I know of Mrs. Wayne is that her deposits with us have been coming, as I wrote yo_u, for some time. When we had notice of her death we delayed opening her safety deposit box till we had a court order. Within wevfound the moet gorgeous collections of jewels imaginable—here are photographs of • them—necklaces, stomachers, all of them trinkets for the of woman. Also copies concerning trans_of—various property Interests In Central Africa, particularly ln> the regions mapped as .unexplored. Several > of these make mention, Indefinitely, of diamond mines of great value, apparently. One typewritten letter was in the box, addressed to Mrs. Wayne and signed, ‘Your Fond Father.’ Here is a copy of it.” -My Dear Daughter—lt is with great despair that I urge upon you again* the necessity for finding your brother Francis, and securing from him the route to the Tiougaley Mines. He is the only living soul who has this knowledge. His refusal to divulge the information to itTS is but another proof of his unnatural and unfllial altitude. I must insist that you find Francis and make him tell you the location of the lost fields. Cease seeking your will o’ the wisp ideal —your foolish “love. Find Ff&ricls instead and having found him return home to Hackleye as -soon as possible... He is growing uncontrollably jealous of you, and not only threatening your life, but mine, and that of the children, too. They are both well, but Paula has had much trouble with her throat since the rains begp.n. I’m afraid she will never be well in this climate. Do not misunderstand me. Hackleye is where you cannot trifle with him any longer, and the Remands op our moneys have been so gi'eat that unless we get hold of the new fields, we will be povertystricken at the end of the year. I wish you would quit your gaming. Ido not mean less wealthy, mind you, but practically poor. Reflect what this means. Cerisse, seek out Francis, find him if possible, anfi by all means make him draw you a chart or map of those fa-’ mous and almost fdrgottep fields. Take care of yourself, my daughter. With much ldve, —- ’’Your Food Old Father.** “That straightens it all out Tor us nicely now,” chattered Hank Smith’s voice on the air. “Hamley is Cerisse Wayne’s husband, and Wayne must have been her-.maiden name. Evidently she didn’t love Hackleye, anil she ran away to love somebody else and to find her brother Francis, and to learn, about those diamond mines. Now If the whole bunch of them lived in Africa, I’d believe that the Man-Aperilla is a trained ape, a sort of body servant that followed along after the husband. He traced her here to the Desterle house, leased the Flanders home, and then called on her surreptitiously. I don’t believe Hubby ever went to murder'his little wife, but they got into a family row because Wifle didn’t want to go home with Hubby, and in the fracas that followed wifle got the worst of it, and, by the way”— here Hank’s voice sank to a whisper—“l wonder if she really was dead or only drugged? And have any of you noticed the similarity between the names ‘Hamley Hackley’ and ‘Harold Harcourt?’ ” “You reason like a woman. Hank,” growled Larry Morris. “You’re contradictory from the start” “Perhaps.” (To be continued.)