Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 232, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 September 1912 — THE MAXWELL MYSTERY [ARTICLE]

THE MAXWELL MYSTERY

(Copyright, The Frank A Munsey Co.) O \ CHAPTER X. Circumstantial Evidence. Further investigation only served to strengthen the case against Gilbert Crane. t It was discovered that he owned a 38-calibre pistol. When found, this pistol was properly cleaned and loaded. It was not rusty, and had every appearance of having been used recently, but how recently, who could say? And so, on tye day after Philip’s funeral, Gilbert was arrested and held lor trial. Mildred Leslie was frantic with grief and indignation. She declared that, although the intruder might have worn Gilbert’s coat, it was positively not Gilbert Crane himself. She vowed she would know Gilbert Crane in any circumstances and in any disguise, and she was sure the -man who shot her was a stranger to hes, although apparently well known to Philip Maxwell.

Irene Gardinfer seemeu uncertain as to the justice of the arrest. She viewed the whole matter from a stern, judicial standpoint, and seemed unable to take a personal view of it. I felt sure that she had never liked Mr. Crane, and, feeling equally sure that Mildred was very much in love with him, I could easily understand the different attitudes of the two girts. I was conscious myself of a growing regard for Irene, and, while I could wish for a little softer and more sympathetic feeling toward the prisoner, yet I couldn’t help admiring het splendid appreciation of law and justice. Resolved, if possible, to find some spot in Hunt’s diagnosis of the case, I obtained permission to visit Gilbert Crane in 'his cell. I found I did not' know Gilbert Crane. Instead of appearing dejected, he rose to greet me with an expectant look, and held out his hand. “Will you take it?” he said impulsively and eagerly. You need not hesitate. It is the hand of an honest man. I am no more guilty of Philip’s death .than is Philip himself. Quite aside from his words, there was honor and truth in the sound of his voice and the look in his eye. lam very sensitive to deceit, and in every fiber of my being I felt at>that moment that an innocent and honest man stood before me. / Acting in accordance with this conviction I grasped his hand heartily, and said: “I am sure of it! I admit, and you must admit yourself, that the circumstantial evidence against you is pretty bad. But even before your denial I could not think you guilty, and now you have removed any lurking doubt I • may have had.*’ “Thank you,” said Crane simply. “And now I wonder if you can help me.” “Here I am, arrested for the murder of a man who was one of my best friends. I didn’t murder him, and yet circumstances are such that I cannot prove that I did not.” -v “Since you are speaking frankly," I said, “will you tell me if you touched the pistol that Miss Leslie held?” Gilbert looked at me gravely. “I Will,” he Said. “I ought to have been more straightforward about that, but I didn’t mention it, because I thought it of absolutely no importance. “When I saw the bodies, I thought that Philip was dead, but that Miss Leslie was still living. I went nearer to look, and on an impulse I sfhrted to take the pistol from her hand. But I at once realized that'it would be better to call Dr. Sheldon before I touched anything, and I did so.” ‘You didn't pause to pick up the bronze horse?” I asked. ; .. "Certainly not,” was the surprised reply. “That horse and inkstand play a moat mysterious part in the matter. But there must be some explanation for them, and we must find it.” "It will be made clear,” said Gilbert, “if you do what I ask.” “I am more than willing to do your bidding," I said. "Tfcdn send for Stone. He is a New York detective, and though I do not know him personally, I know enough about him to feel sure he can unravel th\a tagle as no one else can.” "I certainly will,” I replied, “and do all In my power to help him.” “Fleming Stone won’t need much help,” said Gilbert, not ungratefully, but decidedly; "he is a wizard. lie can see right through anybody or anything.” i. for us, and I’ll "Perhap*," waid Crane, “It would be Wiser not to let it be generally known that he Is a celebrated detective” "All right,” 1 replied; "but the MaxW «1I« will have to know it, because I want to put Mm up at the Hail. They’ll

be willing, I know. Indeed, Mr. Maxwell has himself suggested that we should get a city detective down.” “I know it,” said Gilbert; “but I wish you’d act as if he were just a friend of yours who has a taste for detective work!” “Very well, i’ll fix it that way, then. But I hate to have you staying here, even for a few days.” “That can’t be helped,” said Gilbert, “and mustn’t be considered. If you can only get Fleming Stone to come down here I am as good as released.” I then went away, prepared to go at once on Gilbert’s errand. That very day I went to New York In search of Fleming Stone. I found him, and after some persuasion I induced him to return to Hamilton* with me in the interests of Gilbert Crane. As to personal appearance he was a fine-looking man without being in any way remarkably handsome. He was large and well formed, between 40 and 60 years old, with iron gray hair and a clear, healthy complexion. His eyes Were his chief charm, and their attraction lay largely in their expression, and in their surrounding dark lashes and brows. Mr. Stone had a kindly smile, and his face in repose seemed to denote an even temper and a gracious disposition. He was possessed of great personal magnetism, and the liking which I felt for him the first moment I saw him grew rapidly into admiration. On the way down, at his request, I fold him everything I knew about the Maxwell mystery. He was intensely interested; and I was secretly filled with joy when he expressed a decided approval of the methods H, had used in discovering the red ink. When we reached Maxwell Hall it was nearly dinner time. „ At the dinner table slr. Stone gave no hint of his profession either in manner or apeparanee. He was simply a well-bred, well-dressed gentle-

man, with irreproachable manners and a talent for interesting conversation. I noticed that Mr. Maxewll looked at him with occasional furtive glances, and seemed to be mentally weighing the man’s professional ability. Either he was satisfied with the result of his scrutiny or^the 1 ' charm of Mr. Stone appealed to him, for he distinctly showed a liking for his new guest before the close of the meal. As Mildred Leslie was not yet allowed to leave her room, the Whitings and Miss Gardiner made up the rest Of the dinner guests. Edith Whiting and her husband were always to be depended upon for a correct demeanor of any sort that the situation might require, but I was anxious to see what attitude Irene would assume toward the newcomer. To my surprise she showed an intense interest in him. She seemed fairly eager lest she lose one word of his conversation, and her brilliant cheeks and shining eyes proved her vivid enjoyment of the occasion. After dinner there was music and Mr. Stone seemed to" enjoy it very much. Though quite content to leave matters in his hands, I couldn’t help wondering when he intended to begin his detective work. But almost as if in answer to my thought, Mr. Stone remarked that if it met with the approval of them all, he would ask for a short but absolutely private interview wijth each one. “I assume there are no secrets among us,” he said, in his winning way, “and as I understand the situation, from what Mr. King has told me, I think we are all earnestly anxious to discover the person who took the life of Philip Maxwell.” Then Miss Maxwell said, in her gentle voice: “I trust I am not tod revengeful in spirit, but I own I would be glad to see the slayer of my boy brought to justice.” Asking Hiss Maxwell to go with him to the study, Fleming Stone escorted

her from the room with an air of courtly grace that sat well upon him. After not more than 10 minutes Mr. Stone brought her back, and asked that he‘ might have a few words with Mr. Maxwell. .'When Mr. Maxwell’s short interview was finished the others were taken in turn, and I was somewhat surprised to notice that Mr. Stone detained Tom Whiting far longer than any of the rest. Later that evening Fleming Stone and I had a short conference in the library. I showed him the horse and the inkstand; described the exact position of Philip and Mildred when they were found; showed him where the bits of yellow down were discovered; and pointed out how the balcony floor had been marked by signs of an apparent scuffle. “I do not deduce from the scratches that there was a, scuffle,” said Mr. Stone. “That is, t pot in the sense of there having been a struggle between two persons. I see no reason for thinking that these marks were made by more than one pair of feet.” “Mr, Stone,” I said, “perhaps I have no right to ask, but have your suspicions fallen in any direction as yet?” “I will tell you,” he said, “for I know you will not betray my confidence, that I am positively certain who the criminal Is; that it is not Gilbert Crane; and that it is a person upon whom I can lay my hand at any moment.” To be Continued.)

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