Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 205, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 August 1912 — THE MAXWELL MYSTERY [ARTICLE]

THE MAXWELL MYSTERY

(Copyright, The Frank A Munsey Co.)

CHATTER 111. A Life In the Balance. Although Dr. Sheldon was quick in his response to Gilbert Crane’s summons, I was quicker, and, dashing upstairs, I reached the library door first For I must admit, that beneath the horror and shock of the fearful thing that had I felt the promptings of the detective ifißtinct and I eagerly looked around to grasp the true facts of the case. Of course, Gilbert’s statement that they had shot each other was manifestly improbable, and was doubtless the irresponsible speech of frenzy. My first glance at the tragedy showed me Philip stretched out on the floor, apparently dead, and Mildred fallen in a heap, a few feet away. * In a moment Dr. Sheldon and several others came hastening in. I had expected to see the whole crowd, but, as I learned afterward, one of the mem with judgment and presence of mind had insisted on most of the guests remaining downstairs until more particulars of the accident, were learned. Dr. Sheldon gave a quick look at Philip, flung open his clothing, placed his hand on his heart, and after a moment, said gently: '‘He is dead.” Then he turned to Mildred, and stooping, took her Unconscious form in his arms. “She is not,” he said eagerly. “Telephone for my assistant, Dr. Burton, to come at once and bring my instruments. I think we can yet save her life. Tell him to fly. Tell him what has 1 happened, but don’t delay him.” (Dr. Sheldon, who was acting as rapidly as he talked, took the weapon from Mildred’s hand and laid it on the tahle. “Let no one touch that,” he ordered, “and let no one tohch 'Philip Maxwell’s body. Send for the coroner at once. -

"Mr. Crane, will you keep guard in this room? And, Mr. King, will you dismiss the guests and inform Mr. Maxwell and his sister what has happened? Mr. and Mrs. Whiting will assist me with Miss Leslie.” I suddenly thought of Irene Gardiner, and resolved to tell her first, thinking she could break the news to the dead old lady with a better grace than I could. I stepped out on the front balcony, wondering if I would find her around the corner where I had left her, but to my surprise she was seated near the front window, and was weeping violently. “Irene,” I said, as I touched her shoulder, "do you know what has happened ?” “What?” she said, still shaking with convulsive sobs. I told her, and her piercing shriek brought Miss Maxwell to her door. “What is it?” she cried, as she flung open the door. “What is the matter?” Suddenly Miss Gardiner grew calm, and with a return of her own tactful manner, she took the old lady in her arms, and told her the sad news. Miss Maxwell’s face turned white with grief and shock; she tottered, but she did not faint. Then her loyal heart prompted her to ask: “My brother! Does he know? Has he been told?” - “No,” I said, “but I will tell him.” I hurried downstairs and found Mr. Maxewll still alone and undisturbed in his study. It was the hardest task I had ever had to do in my life. “Mr. Maxwell,” I said, “I am the bearer of sad news. Philip has been hurt” “Philip has been hurt” I repeated, “shot” “Shot!” and the old man’s face grew ashy pale, as he leaned back in his chair.

He was very quiet, seemingly he was stunned by the news, and after a few moments his sister came into the room. I believe I never was so glad to see anyone, and feeling now that thfey were better alone, I left them. I went next to the music room, where Tom Whiting was dismissing the guests. Except those of us who were staying at the house, the doctors, and Gilbert Crane, all the guests went away, and immediately as ter the coroner and his naen arrived. " A trained nurse also came, who had been sent for by Dr. Sheldon, and she was taken at once to Mildred’s apartment. “Mysterious case,” said the coroner, after a long look at the room and its

contents. "Might be an attempt at a double suicide, or suicide and murder.” “Or double murder,” said I. The coroner gave me a quick glance. "We must work on evidence,” he said, “not imagination.” “What evidence do you see?” asked Gilbert Crane. .j - ■ “Very little, I confess,” replied the coroner, who was a frank, straightforward sort of a man, and whose name was Billings. “But,” he went on, “when a gentleman is found dead, and a wounded lady nearby, with a pistol In her hand, it doesn’ require an unusual intellect to deduce that she probably shot him. Unless, as I said, it is a double suicide, and he shot himself first, and then she shot herslf.” “Is Philip’s wound one that could have been self-inflicted?” I asked. “Without a doubt,” replied Mr. Billings. ‘'He is shot directly through the heart, and that could have been done by himself or another. “But, of course, we shall have medical evidence as to that.” How about the powder marks?” “How about the powder marks ” asked a quiet voice. It'came from Mr. Hunt, the detective, who had come in with the coroner, and had since been examining the room and taking notes, “It is difficult to judge,” answered Mr. Billings. "The shot went through both coat and waistcoat, and while the powder marks would seem to prove that the shot was fired from a distance of three or four feet, yet I cannot say so positively.” I felt a certain relief at this,~for while it was toad enough to think of poor Philip shooting himself, somehow it was worse to imagine Mildred shooting him. Soon Dr. Burton came into the library. He talked with Mr. Hunt and Mr. Billings and then said: “As soon as you have completed all the necessary investigations, Dr. Sheldon requests that the body shall be removed to Mr. Philip Maxwell’s room and laid upon the bed, in order that it may seem less shocking to his aunt and uncle.”

The coroner agreed to his suggestions, and later I saw Mr. Maxwell and Miss Miranda go together to the room where lay all that was mortal of their beloved nephew. Dr. Burton’s news of Mildred Leslie had been that she had been shot in the right shoulder, and the wound was dangerous but not necessarily fatal. She had not as yet uttered a word, for she had been placed as soon as possible under the influence of ether while the doctors probed for the bullet It had been successfully extracted and Was in Dr. Sheldon’s possession. Dr. Burton thought that Miss Leslie would soon regain consciousness, but deemed it exceedingly unwise to question her, or excite her in any way for sometime to come. Indeed, he said he was sure Dr. Sheldon would allow no one to see her for several days except the nurse and possibly her sister. At last Mr. Maxwell and Miss Miranda were persuaded to retire, and the rest of us were advised to do so.' But Gilbert Crane announced his intention of staying at the house all night. He said some one should be in general -charge, and as Philip’s best friend he considered he had the right to assume such a position. He established himself in Mr. Maxwell’s study and told the servants and doctors to call him in any emergency. Seeing that Mr. Hunt sat down there, too, with the evident intention of discussing the affair, I delayed my retiring and joined them. Soon Mr. Whiting and Irene came in, and we went over and over the mysterious details. “What were Mr. Philip Maxwell’s sentiments toward Miss Leslie?” inquired the detective. 'No one seemed inclined to reply, and as I thought it my duty to shed all the light possible on the case, I said: “I have good reason to believe that, at or about the time of his death, Mr. Maxwell was asking Miss Leslie to marry him.” "Did she ever favor his suit?” pursued Mr. Hunt

“No,” broke in Irene, “Bbe did not She told me so only this morning." “But that would be no reason for her shooting hitn and then shooting herself,” wailed Edith Whftin£ “Oh, I’m.sure Mildred never did it Or, at least not intentionally. “I’ve reasoned it all out and I think he must have been showing her his pistol, or explaining it to her, and it went off accidentally, and then, in her grief and fright, she turned the weapon on herself.”' “Was it Philip’s pistol?” asked Irene. “Yes," said the detective, “that is, it had P. M. engraved on the handle.” “Oh! it was Philip’s pistol,” said Gilbert Crane. “I know It well. And he always keeps it in the top drawer of that big table-desk they were standing by.” "How do you know they were standing by It?” spoke up the detective sharply. “Because,” said Gilbert quietly,

"these were no chairs near the desk. They both fell near the des£. Qhilip could not have walked a - step after that shot through his heart, aßd Mildred must have been standing near the desk to fall and hit her head on it Am I clear?” “Perfectly,” said Mr. Hunt. “Mildred never shot Philip intentionally,"' reiterated Mrs. Whiting. “She is a rattle-pated girl—a coquette, I admit— and she was not in love with Philip; but truly she was no more capable of a murderous thought or Instinct than I am. You know that, don’t you, Irene?” “I’m sure Mildred didn’t shoot Philip at all, Edith,” she said. “I think he shot himself and she tried to wrest the pistol from him, and in doing so wounded herself.” Gilbert said slowly: ~

“There could have • been no struggle after that shot entered Philip’s heart. If he shot himself, and Miss Leslie then took the pistol from him, it was after he had ceased to breathe.” “Was death, then, absolutely instantaneous?” I asked. “Yes,” said Mr. Hunt “Both doctors are sure of that” Just here Tom Whiting came downstairs and joined us in the study. His face wore a peculiar expression. One of awe and perplexity, yet tinged 'with a certain relief. “I think you ought to know,” he said, “that Mildred is coming out of the ether’s influence, and has spoken several times, but only to repeat the same things over and over. She continually cries: ‘“He shot me! Oh! to think he should - shoot meT“ r I tell yon this iir justice to my wife’s sister.” “I knew Mildred didn’t do it!” cried Edith, almost fainting in her husband’s arms. “I don’t care how black the evidence against her. I knew she never - did it.” ~ (To Be Continued.).