Evening Republican, Volume 23, Number 164, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 July 1920 — Page 2

The House of Whispers

OeggitgM by Uttiv, Brown a O»-

“LEFTY MOORE'S WIFE."

Synopsis —Spalding Nslson receives an invitation, 1 to dinner from bls groat-uncle,' Rufus -Gaston. On the way he meets Barbara Bradford and renders her a service. She lives in the same apartment building as the Gastons. They go there together. Gaston and his wife are ~ going tn Mtipfi for a trip and ask Nelson to live in their apartments. Ho accepts. The Gastons tell him of mysterious noises about the apartment—"whispers” and noises that have scared them. Going to the apartment ■ a few days later Nelson again meets Barbara, his accidental acquaintance. Nelson meets the building superintendent, Wick, and instinctively dislikes him. In a wall safe he finds a necklace of magnificent pearls. Next day Nelson finds the pearls have disappeared from the wall safe. His first idea of informing the police Is not acted upon because of peculiar circumstances. He has been discharged from his position without adequate explanation or reason, and feels himself involved in something of a mystery. He .decides to conduct an Investigation himself. That , night Barbara signals from the window of her apartment, which Is opposite his, and they arrange a meeting for next day. In th* morning he finds a note In his room, asking hire why he had not informed the police of the loss of the jewels. Barbara tells Nelson her sister fislre had some years before made a run-away marriage with an adventurer, from whom she was soon parted, and the marriage had been annulled. Claire Is engaged to bo married and someone, knowing of her escapade, has stolen documenta concerning the affair from the Bradford apartment and la attempting to blackmail the Bradfords. Nelson and Barbara exchange confidences about the “whispers,” mysterious notes and other queer doings, which are much alike in both apartments. Nelson encounters more mysteries. He takes Miss Kelly, the telephone girl, to dinner with the idea of pumping her.

CHAPTER VI. —7— Left alone for a moment by my companion, I sat there at the table in the crowded restaurant, idly watching the beautifully costumed women all about me, listening dreamily to the music of the orchestra, observing with Interest the graceful gyrations of the occasional couple who sought the dancing floor in the center, when suddenly I was brought to myself by hearing a gruff voice saying: “What’d you bring that crook in here for?" "What do you mean?” I gasped in astonishment, looking up at a squareshouldered man with a neatly trimmed black mustache who was standing beside my tablet “It’s you I mean,” he announced. “Don’t you know you can’t bring that kind of people in here?” As explanation for my presence there in the White room of the fa-

moos Hundredth hotel, let me say that my investigations into the perplexing chain of mysterious circumstances in which Barbara Bradford and I seemed to be each day becoming more firmly Involved, had finally led me to deduce three different theories, each more or less plausible, and each involving an entirely different set of persons. There were certain happenings and circumstances that made me sometimes wonder if the whole thing were not a base plot on the part of my great-uncle Rufus, perhaps influenced by a desire for revenge or perhaps led on by an insane greed for still greater wealth. Yet, on the other hand, there were those entries in his diary about the mysterious voices. Apparently, too. his wife and Mrs. Burk£had heard them. Did it not seem more likely that the arch plotter was Claire Bradford’s exhusband? This theory seemed far more tenable. While the Bradfords had heard nothing from him for several years, the publication of Claire Bradford’s engagement might have attracted his notice and inspired him to an attempt at blackmail. Yet how could he gain access to the wall safe where the divorce papers were kept, or how could ha bo dropping notes on the floor of Barbara Bradford’s bedroom? How could he have stolen the Gaston pearls? It seemed Incredible but still my thoughts kept returning to the pesaihiUty of his directing Claire Bradford’s actions through hypnotic control. Once he had had Influence over her sufficient to make her give up family, friends, home, everything, to marry him. Had he, in some way unknown to Barbara Bradford, regained Mo control over her sister and; waa he using her as the unconscious tool for his villainies? She could have gained access to my room by diking along the lodge when all the house was still. Yet this theory explained neither the theft of the pearls, my groat-unde’s peculiar actions, my own discharge, nor the mysterious nataoa in the apartment. I had still Suppose a band of criminals was loeutod in the apartment house on the floor above the Bradfords and me?

By WILLIAM JOHNSTON

Access to either apartment would not be difficult By short rope ladders they could easily reach either set of rooms. They would be so located that there would be little difficulty for them to devise mysterious sounds for terrifying th® people in the apartments below. I recalled that In every case the voices and the footsteps seemed to come up near the ceiling. Of course It seemed preposterous that a criminal band would find lodging in a luxurious apartment house like this, yet, why not? Tenants In these buildings knew little about each other and cared less. There was no exchange of neighborly visits. Once having gained access to such a building by forged references, so long as they paid their rent promptly, no one In the building would bother his head about the character of any of the other tenants. This last theory seemed the most plausible. Besides it was the easiest to work on. It ought not to be difficult to ascertain who lived in the two apartments above. Undoubtedly my best source of Information would be Nellie Kelly, the telephone operator. Perhaps, too, she might be able to inform me of my great-uncle’s whereabouts. More than likely he had left a forwarding address for his mall with her. With a letter I had written to my mother, I descended to the main floor and began a conversation with Miss Kelly by asking where was the nearest place that I could buy stamps. As we chatted I began complaining how lonely it was in the apartment and wound up by inviting her to dine with me that evening.

I had anticipated a ready acceptance of my Invitation and was amazed to find it firmly refused. In a much confused manner she advanced a dozen reasons, or rather pretexts. She did not go out with the people of the house. Her mother would not like it. She did not know me well enough. Mr. Wick would discharge her If he heard about It. From an unexpected source, though none the less unwelcome, I found an ally. Mr. Wick himself bobbed up from somewhere, apparently having overheard enough of our conversation to know what It was abut. ' “Why, of course, Mr. Nelson," he began In an Ingratiating manner that was most repellent to’ me, “Miss Kelly’ll be glad to go to dinner with you. It’s part of her business to make things pleasant for the tenants.” It seemed to me that the girl’s eyes flashed defiance at him and that she was still inclined to refuse, and I was about to explain resentfully that my invitation was not Issued on a business basis, when into Wick’s face came an ugly look, something almost threatening.

“Of course Miss Kelly will be glad to gtT wlth you," he repeated sharply. “Certainly," said the girl quickly, before I had a chance to speak, “if Mr. Wick thinks it is all right; I will be glad to go." Her acceptance did not ring true. I was convinced that It was unwillingly given under some sort of compulsion from the odious Wick.

I met her, at her suggestion, in the parlor of one of the less pretentious hotels. In the hour that had elapsed since she left the apartment, she had exchanged her neat black working suit for more modish clothes. After one quick glance at her transformed appearance my mind was quickly made up as to what sort of a restaurant to take her. It was manifest that she was of the type that would enjoy tp the utmost the costly whirl of the fashionable case of the moment It was my purpose to give her such a delightful evening that she would be wishing to spend others in the same way, for I felt certain that she, perhaps better than anyone else, could supply me the information I wanted about the tenants in the building. I was sure it would be well worth my while to win her good graces, cost what it may. Calling a taxi. I bade the chauffeur take us to the “White Room," the very jatest fashion in restaurants, where hordes of hectic pursuers of pleasure were wont to assemble to dine and dance. I observed the gleam of satisfaction that came into her eyes as she heard me mention our destination.

At first we talked/ in Broadway fashion, of the theaters and restaurants, of the place we were in, of the people at the tables about us, but gradually I led the conversation to Miss Kelly herself and to her work in the apartment. “It was funny, wasn’t it,” I said, “about Mr. Wick insisting on your coming with me? I had a notion bp didn’t like me." Hitherto my companion had beet? most vivacious, chatting merrily, flashing back at my sallies with clever bits of that slangy repartee of which most of the metropolitan business girls are such clever mistresses. At my last remark a quick change came over her facd. It was as If a mask had been set up between us behind which she was hiding from me. “I guess he likes you,” she answer-

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND.

ed guardedly. “I never heard him say one way or the other.” “While we’re talking about the apartment,” I went on, “did my great uncle happen to leave a forwarding address with you? There are some things I want to send him —some pearls they left behind —and he has not written me yet where his address will be.” I had not Intended to mention the Gaston pearls. I had slipped that phrase in on the spur of the moment, but little was I prepared for the astounding effect my words had upon her. “The pearls!” she gasped, turning white. “You’re going to send him the Gaston pearls!” There was a note of amazement, of incredulity in her tone. “Excuse me,” she said, rising unfexpectedly, “I gotta telephone.” Before I could gather my wits together she had vanished, leaving me sitting there, staring after her in dismay. What did she —the telephone girl—know about the Gaston pearls? How could she possibly know that they were missing? I had told no one —no one except Barbara Bradford — about the rifled wall safe. How could her excitenfent and perturbation be accounted for except by the fact that she knew of their loss? I was Sitting there, puzzling over her mysterious conduct, when I became aware that a man was standing beside my table, glaring down at me. I looked up, expecting to see the waiter, or head

"You’ve Got Your Nerve," He Sneered at Me.

waiter. Instead it was a man in a dinner jacket, a stocky, broad-shoul-dered chap with a close-cropped gray mustache. ''“You’re got your nene," he sneered at me. “Bringing a woman of that sort here.” “A woman of what sort?” I asked eagerly, surprised to find someone in a place Of this sort who knew the Granddeck’s telephone girl. “Why, Lefty Moore’s wife, of course.” “I don’t understand,” I replied, *Tm here with Miss Kelly.” “Oh, she told you that was her name, did she?” “I know it’s her name. She’s the telephone girl in the apartment where I llve —the Granddeck.” I could see his manner toward me change at the mention of my abode, but he was still insistent about the identity of my companion. “How well do you know her?" he asked. “Well" —I am afraid I colored, as I realized that my acquaintance with the girl was limited —'Tve been living there for a week or so, and I’ve talked with her two or three times and —” •I thought so,” said my Inquisitor. “There’s nothing to it. She’s Lefty Moore’s woman all right. If rd seen you come in with her, you’d never have got a table in this place.” “What is the matter with her? Who is Lefty Moore?” An expression of amazement came into the man’s face. “Did you never hear tell of Lefty Moore, the cleverest three-time burglar there is in or out of Sing Sing? Fourteen years he got the last time, and It was quite a write-up the papers gave me for catching him.” It began to dawn on me then who the man was. He must be an ex-po-liceman employed as the restaurant bouncer or house detective. “You’re sure Miss Kelly and Lefty Moore’s wife are the same person?” “I’ve reasons for not forgetting her. She was with him that time when I took him. Tve got the marks of her nails in my face yet. It’s her all right, even if she has gone to work as Miss Kelly while Lefty’s doing his stretch. She’s a bad one, she is.” “Is she a crook, too?” I asked excitedly. .1 was trying to measure up the importance of this astounding bit of information. Already my deductions had convinced me that some band of criminals was in collusion with someone in the apartment who was carrying out their plots against the Bradfords and me. I had been thinking of an apartment surreptitiously tenanted bl a criminal gang.

How much more likely that an employee of the place was in the pay of the plotters! And now to learn that the telephone girl was, if not a criminal herself, at least the associate of criminals. "* — “She’s got no record that I know of,” the detective admitted, “but she couldn’t be Lefty Moore’s wife without being a crook herself.” “That helps explain things,” I said more to myself than to him. “Explains what?” he asked suspiciously. “Look here,” I said with a new determination. “There have been some mysterious happenings in the Granddeck, and I brought this girl here to try to pump her. I asked her a question or two, and she became much embarrassed and confused. She jumped up and said she was going to the telephone. Do you suppose that she saw you and recognized you?” “Not a chance,” said the detective. “Well, I’d like to find out to whom she telephoned. Can you find out for me?” “Sure I can, but you got to get her out of here.” “All right,” I replied. “As soon aa slie returns to my table. I’ll pay my check and we’ll leave. I’ll be back by and by and see If yoq’ve learned anything.” “Here she comes now,” said the detective, hastily taking his departure, but I noticed that he had stationed himself behind some palms where he could watch the girl without being seen.

“Who was the fellow talking to you as I came up?” asked Miss Kelly curiously. She was cool and collected now. Her telephone message—if she had been really phoning—seemed in some way to have fortified her. “Oh, that fellow,” I replied with assumed carelessness, “that was the manager of the place.” “What’d he want?” “Nothing In particular. He just asked if everything was all right. Why?’ “He looked to me like a bull —like a detective I used to know,” she hastily corrected herself. Her slip m using the thieves’ slang phrase served to aid in convincing me that my informant had been correct In his Identification. I was as anxious now as the house detective to get her out of the restaurant and summoning the waiter I hastened to pay my check. “Let’s stay for a couple of dances,” she suggested. “Sorry,” I said, “but I can’t dance” —mentally adding the words, “with you.’ “Let’s go then,” she said disappointedly, and to my surprise on the way out she renewed the subject of Mr. Gaston.

“You were asking if the old gentleman left a forwarding address. He didn’t leave any with me. If you find out where he is. will you let me or Mr. Wick know? Mr. Wick wants to get in touch with him.” Something told me then it must have been Mr. Wick she hid telephoned to. Probably she had Informed-him I had been asking about the Gastons’ address and had consulted him as to what answer to give. Putting the girl Into a taxi I paid her driver to take her home and hurried back into the hotel. I found the house detective — James Gorman, I learned his name was —waiting for me In the lobby. “Was it to the Granddeck she-tele-phoned?” I asked eagerly. “It was 0909 Plaza. That’s a private number. I called up information, and she wouldn’t tell me where it was. I’ll find out tomorrow, though. There’s other ways besides through ‘information.’ ” “If you find out you'll phone me right away, won’t you?” I asked him, giving him my card. “And have Lefty Moore’s wife listening in,” he suggested. “Nothing doing, son. You’d better call me from a public pay station.”

A night visit from a beautiful ghost.

* (TO BE CONTINUED.)

Word to the Women.

It may not beget undue attention, but 240,162,943 needles were made In the United States last year. It would be pleasant mental recreation for a long evening to figure how many hours of labor, based on the proverb that a stitch in time saves nine, would have been saved the women ot the nation if all these needles had been applied at the psychological moment.

First Gun of the Civil War.

On the 9th of January, In 1861, the steamship Star of-the West was sent by the federal government from New York with supplies and re-enforce-ments for Fort Sumter, In Charleston harbor. When the Star of the West reached Charleston she was upon by Confederate batteries from the town and was obliged to turn back. This was the first actual gunfire of the Civil war.

SETTLED QUESTION OF HAIR

After Experience With Kerosene, Captain Hopkins Had Not Any Further Worry About IL Baldness is a condition the threat of which will frequently stir men of even the most dormant vanity. Hair tonics have netted fortunes for their inventors and there are countless remedies of the old housewife, sdme of which, such as the application of kerosene, make the writer, at least, feel that the disease might be preferable to the cure. The sea captain John D. Whldden tells of in his “Ocean Life in the Old Sailing Ship Days,” certainly discovered to his sorrow one of the possible results of such a “cure.” Captain Hopkins was giving a dinner to some of the other ship captains and their wives who were in the harbor of Bahia at the same time with him. As the cabin of the captain’s brig was small, the table was laid under awnings on top of the cabin. The guests arrived and dispersed about under the awnings to enjoy themselves until dinner was served. Captain Hopkins, who was a general favorite, after a few minutes went below, “pre-sumably--to put a few finishing touches to his appearance.” The captain, who was “a small man, with a quaint, seamed, whiskerless face,” was troubled about his thinning hair and, after trying all sorts of tonics, some one had told him that “kerosene, oil, well rubbed in, would cause a healthy growth when everything else had failed.” Captain Hopkins tried it and came to have great faith in it, going around with his head glistening, and an odor distilling from him like a Pennsylvania biT derrick.” Down in his cabin, now, he proceeded to give a fresh application of the kerosene. Suddenly the people ‘on deck were startled by a yell, “and the next instant the head of old Hopkins appeared above the companionway, blazing like a giant candle. The ladies screamed, while one or two captains caught up buckets and, dipping up salt water over the brig’s side, deluged the captain’s head, extinguishing him in a moment, but leaving him as bald as an egg, although beyond a few blisters he was not seriously hurt.” Captain Hopkins, it turned out had lighted a lamp and somehow brought the match in contact with his head.

Concentration of Wealth.

In substantiation of the contention that very much of the national wealth is finding its way into a few private hands, Congressman Henry T. Rainey, In the house of congress, made the following statements, based on statistics of the federal income tax bureau : “There.are two men in the United States whose income last year was over $16,000,000. There are five men in the United States whose income last year was over $5,000,000 apiece. In 1914, before the war started, there were 60 men whose annual Incomes were over $1,000,000 apiece. Last year there were 248 whose Incomes were over $1,000,000 apiece. In 1914 there were 114 men whose incomes were between $500,000 and $1,000,000 apiece. Last year there were 405 men whose incomes reached this Immense sum. In 1914 there were 147 men whose incomes were between $300,000 and 400.000 apiece. “Today there are 400 men who enjoy- that In 1914 there were 130 comes exceeded $250,000, $300,000. Now there are that income. In 1914 233 men with an income between $200,000 and $250,000. Now there are 750 men who are enjoying that income. In 1914 there were 406 men whose incomes exceeded $150,000 and was under $200,000. Now there are 1,300 men who enjoy that income.’*'

A Wilderness Establishment.

Sam Cook is the keeper of a stopping place at Rocky Lake on the main winter trail in from the Pas in Manitoba to the Fl in Flon mining country. He supplies shelter for man and beast—but no provender. Horse and dog teams transport their own feed. For the human travelers the Cook establishment provides dishes, water and fire only, the visitors doing their own cooking. If there is any food left, the travelers usually leave it for their host. Cook keeps a set of books of a sort and these show that since November last 1.600 freight teams, that is, horse-drawn outfits, and 1,500 dot teams have passed his place, and 932 men used bis roof as shelter overnight. Cook collects 25 cents for each traveler that uses bls cooking utensils. He says that business is looking so good as the result of the mining development that he is going to erect a much larger stopping place this summer, Including a stable capable of giving shelter to 100 horses.

He Came Back.

I am employed in an attorney’s office. One afternoon he was leaving for his golf club and not wantng to miss his train by waiting to lunch, sent me for some sandwiches, writes a correspondent. When I returned the switchboard operator told me he had left and apparently forgot the sandwiches. So I ate them. I had just finished eating them when he returned for his sandwiches. What followed was my most embarrassing moment.

Does Anybody Know?

7 “Fishing season is open now.” “Yep. but rm afsald to think of it" “Why?" "t feel certain that when I start In to get my tackle in shape they’ll tell me there’s a scarcity of fish hooka and fish Unes." ' -

IN ANOTHER KEY

COULDN’T FOOL THIS KID.

Johnny paid his first visit to a farm the other day. All his life he had lived in the heart of a great city, and when he suddenly came in sight of a haystack, he stopped and gazed Earnestly at what appeared to him a new brand of architecture. “Say, Mr. Smith,” he remarked to the farmer, pointing to the haystack, “why don’t they have doors and windows in it?" “Doors and windows!” smiled the< farmer. “That ain’t a house, Johnny, that’s hay.” “Don’t try to josh me, Mr. Smith!” was the scornful rejoinder. “Don’t you suppose I know that hay don’t grow in lumps like that?”

YOUNG PHILOSOPHY.

“D’ye know, I think teacher c’n see behind her.” “Well, she said her eyes was go-' ing back on her.” Smile and Sneer. A smile Is like a blossom tossed Upon the path of Spring; A sneer is like the sudden frost That leaves it withering. Could Be Worse. “Cook, I don’t like to mention it, but the food disappears rather quickly in the kitchen!” “Well, mum, I admits I eats ’earty, but no one could call me gorgeous.” Rough on Them. “He’s always bpasting of his ancestors.” “Yep. ToO bad his grandchildren aren’t going to have any ancestors worth boasting about.”

Just in Time to Escape. Elsie: “What do you mean by saying that Doris is ‘more or less’ pretty?” Harry: “Well, she’s more pretty than most girls, but less pretty than you are I” —Stray Stories. No Life! No Life! Oil-Well, how did you find the old town when you went back? Can—All right, but it was unconscious.—Nebraska Awgwan. Logical Process. “My boat was arrested by the Incoming waves." “Then why- didn’t you bail her out?” The Better Way. Tom—Shall we live with your par* ents after we are married? Ethel—The question Is, can we live without them ? —London Answers.

BOTH CAN’T BE AHEAD. “His wife dresses right up to the minute.” “Yes, but she keeps him. throo i months behind on his bills. Something Learned. Appearances deceitful are We’ve come to understand— One cannot judge of a cigar By the gold upon the band. > The Reason. “I came within .an ace of winning the game.” "Then why didn’t you?” “Because the other fellow had thw ace.” Different Times. “The rich old coot doesn’t kick his son out in the snow as much as hs used to in the old doys.” “Well, today the son wouldn’t starve/ to slow music. Any rich man’s soot could qualify as a chauffeur.” Suspicious. Hubby—Yes, dear, bronze la * very tough and lasting material Why du you ask? Young Bride—Nothing, only Farmer Jones writes that he. is sending u» one of his finest bronze turkeys. j