Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 241, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 October 1912 — THE MAXWELL MYSTERY [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE MAXWELL MYSTERY

[Copyright, The Frank A Munsey Co.)

CHAPTER XIL From the Ups of the Dying. There was nothing to be said. I was silent, because I felt is if the earth had suddenly given way beneath me and all was chaos. Not for a moment did I doubt Fleming Stone’s statement; for his words compelled conviction. But in the confused mass of sudden thoughts that surged through my brain, I seemed to see clearely nothing but Miss Miranda’s placid face, and I cried out involuntarily: “Don’t let his sister know!” Hunt sat like a man stunned. His expression was positively vacant and I think he was trying to realize what Mr. Stone’s announcement meant. “I think that, without telling you of the various steps which led me to this conclusion, I can best prove to you that it is true by asking you to go with me while 1 lay the facts before Mr. Maxwell. I think his reception of what I have to say and the visible effect of my accusation upon him will prove to you beyond any possible doubt his connection with the crime. I am disposed to think he will make a full confession of his crime. Fleming Stone’s words sounded to me like a voice heard in a dream. “It will kill him,” I murmered. “He has heart disease.” When Mr. Sheldon arrived he came directly to us in the library and Stone told* him in a few words of the ordeal we had to undergo. The four of us then went down to Mr. Maxwell’s study. We all went in and Fleming Stone closed the door. He stood for a moment looking directly at Mr. Maxwell and his deep eyes were filled with a great compassion. “Mr. Maxwell,” he said, “we have come to tell you that we have discovered that Philip Maxwell died by your hand.” If any of us doubted Dudley Maxwell’s guilt, all possibility of doubt was at once removed. Instinctively I turned away, but almost immediately I heard Mr. Maxwell’s gasp and I knew that Fleming Stone’s expectations had been verified, and that Mr. Maxwell’s heart had not been able to stand the shock.

Dr. Sheldon sprang to his side, and, with the assistance of the others, laid the unconscious man on the couch. “He is not dead,” said Dr. Sheldon. “And he will soon rally from this, but I feel sure it is a fatal attack. I think he cannot live more than a few hours. As the doctor had surmised, Mr. Maxwell soon rallied and spoke. “Don’t let Miranda know,” he said; “don’t ever let Miranda know.” Fleming Stone stepped forward. “Mr. Maxwell,” he said, “if you will make a full confession in the presence of these gentlemen I will promise you on my honor that I will use every endeavor to keep the knowledge of your guilt from your sister.” “I am ready,” said Dudley Maxwell. “I must begin my story many years back.'' “But you must make it brief,” said Dr. Sheldon. “I cannot allow you to talk long at this time.” Mr. Maxwell proceeded, and Fleming Stone took stenographic notes of his statement. “Twenty-five years ago I lived in California and so did my brother, John. Though not partners, our business interests were closely united in many ways. My brother married, and about a year after Philip’s birth his wife died. Five years later John Maxwell died and left the whole of his large fortune with me in trust for Philip. Although it was supposed at that time that my own fortune was as large or larger than John’s, the reverse was true. I had lost much in speculation. I used this money to make good my losses, trusting to replace it with further gains of my own before Philip should come of age. I was always a cloth-mouthed man and Miranda knew nothing about John’s money. “I came east to live, and after some years the lawyer who was the only one besides myself who knew the circumstances died. My pride and ambition rebelled at giving up my entire fortune to Philip. “On his twenty-first birthday, instead of telling him the truth, I offered him a permanent home at Maxwell Hall and agreed to support him Indulgently and even extravagantly. • “We lived happily enongh for about three years, until one day about, a fortnight ago. That morning I wAs here In my study and had spread out before me the principal papers relating to the trust I had held for Philip. “Suddenly I was called to the telephone, and, thinking to return in a minute, left the papers on my desk. But I was detained at the telephone and when I returned, although there was nobody in sight, it seemed to me the papers had been disturbed. “From that time on Philip was a changed man. His manner toward me confirmed my suspicion that he had discovered my guilt No mention was made of the subject between us, but for more than a week Philip continued to act like a man crushed by a sadden disaster. “Last Monday he wrote a letter to me in which he told me that he had discovered the truth, and that he felt he was entitled to an explanation. This I knew I could not give, nor was I willing to face my nephew’s well-de-served condemnation and the exposure of my treachery to the public. “Monday evening I sat In my study and decided that the time had come. I had placed my pißtol in my pocket, and had intended to go up to my own room and there expiate my guilt toward my brother and his son. “At that moment Mr. King happened to come into my study, and mentioned

that Philip and Mildred were In the library. This strengthened my purpose, for I felt sure that Philip was even then telling Miss Leslie that he was in reality a rich man. “As I crossed the back part of the hall I felt an impulse to look once more on Philip’s face.'l knew I could step out on the balcony and look in at the library window unobserved. "It has always been my habit when going out into the night air to catch up any coat from the hatstand and throw it around me. I did this mechanically and it chanced to be Gilbert Crane’s automobile coat. “I went up the back stairs, putting the coat on as I went. Instinctively putting my hands into the pockets, I felt there the cap and goggleß. “It was then that the evil impulse seized me. I saw my beautiful home with its rich appointments, and like a flash it came to me that Philip should be the one to give up all and not I. “I realized, as by an inspiration, that tae gogles and a turned-up coat collar •would be ample disguise, and I thought the crime would be attributed to an outside marauder. “The rest you know. Philip recognized me. But Miss Leslie did not. That is all.” Mr. Maxwell fell back. But Fleming Stone leaned forward and said distinctly to Mr. Maxwell: “Wait—did you refill the inkstand?” “Yes,” said Mr. Maxwell, with a sudden revival of strength, “yes, I returned to the room late that night, picked up the inkstand, washed it, refilled it and replaced it. The bronze horse I picked up and replaced before leaving the room the first time.” Here Mr. Maxwell’s strength seemed to leave him all at once. On the verge of total collapse, he said again, “Don’t let Miranda know” —and then sank into unconsciousness. “He will probably not rally again,” said Dr. Sheldon. “I think his sister should be notified at once of his illness. Bnt we shall all agree that she must not know of his crime.” In justice to the innocent, Fleming Stone and I went at once to Inspector Davis and asked that Gilbert Crane be released. The order for release was sent immediately, and at last we were free -to ask Fleming Stone a few questions, “How did you do it?” cried Hunt, in his abrupt way. “How did you do it so soon?” cried I, no less curious. “It was not difficult,” said Fleming Stone, in that direct way of his, which was not over-modest, but simply truthful. “Mr. King’s statement, which was the first one I heard, showed me that, although Mr. Crane’s alibi from ten o’clock till half past ten depended entirely upon his own uncorroborated word, yet Mr. Maxwell’s alibi was equally without verification. “I had not talked with Mr. Maxwell ten minutes before I concluded he was a man with a secret I found the crumpled letter in the waste basket. This was addressed to Dudley Maxwell, and was probably begun and discarded for the one which Philip wrote and sent to his uncle. “The most convincing clue was given to me last evening by Mr. Maxwell. You remember, Mr. King, that I took each membir <qf the household to the study separately. When I interviewed Mr. Maxwell there I took care not to alarm him, but rather to put him at his ease as much as possible. “Noticing a well-worn foot-rest, I felt sure that it was his habit to sit with his feet up on it In hopes of his taking this position, I asked him to show me just how he was sitting when the news of the crime was brought to him.

“As I surmised, he sat down in his big armchair and put his feet upon the foot-rest. This gave me an opportunity to examine the soles of his shoes, and I discovered on one of them a large stain of a dull, purplish red. The stain made by red ink is indelible and of a peculiar tinge, so that I felt sure this was the man at whom the inkstand had been thrown, and who had unknowingly stepped upon a wet spot of red ink. “Owing to the awkward goggles he wore, and, too, the excitement of the moment, he probably did not notice the ink at all. When he returned later the spots had sunk into the crimson rug and partly dried. The shoes were light house shoes, and probably he did not wear them out of doors, for dampness or hard wear would have tended to obliterate the stain. “As it was, the color could plainly be seen. 1 am sure that a chemical test would prove it to be a stain of red ink.” Now my story Is all told —all but a little. Mr. Maxwell did that night, and Dr. Sheldon at once took Miss Miranda to his own home, and kept her there, safely out of reach of gossip, until she went to Colorado to live with her sister. Her nerves were shattered, and she begged so piteously that she might not be obliged to enter the door of Maxwell Hall again that her wishes were willingly respected. The rest of us remained at Maxwell Hall until the sister, Hannah, came to take charge and to take Miss Miranda home with her. “It is a case,” I said to Irene Gardiner, “which proves your theory—the murder of Philip Maxwell was brought about solely by opportunity. “My chance remark to Mr. Maxwell that the young people were in the library; the inadvertant snatching up of Gilbert’s coat; the fact that the goggles and cap were in the pocket; the fact that Philip’s uncle had a weapon with him—all these, things form tiny links in a strong chain of opportune ty.” “But the evil impulses must have been in his heart, or he would never have taken advantage of this opportunity,” said Irene, unconsciously refuting a theory she had herself ady&Dccdl “I would rather not think,” said Fleming Stone in his sweet, serious voice, “that opportunity creates a sinner, or even that it creates an evil impuse. I would rather believe—and I do believe—that opportunity only warms into action an evil impulse .that is lying dormant; and I do not believe that dormant evil impulse is in everybody." (The End.)