Evening Republican, Volume 23, Number 193, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 August 1920 — The House of Whispers [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The House of Whispers

By WILLIAM JOHNSTON

CHAPTER Xl—Continued. | —-14— > While I was debating the situation p my cell, a keeper opened the door. wante d downstairs." he an- * “What is It?" I asked, wondertngly. * “You’ve got a visitor." 1 “Who?" I Questioned eagerly. Could R, I wondered, be Barbara? Had my Rernly repressed longing to see her m some way communicated Itself to jpr through the ether and impelled her to throw caution to the winds and to the prison to 'see me? don’t know," the keeper answered. “It’s a man. I don’t know who be Is." a man. Who could It be? In all jhe monotonous time I had been behind the bars, only two men had come Id see me, German and McGregor. It fould not be either of them, for both well known to the prison attendints. As I hastened down the long eorridor past the dismal row of barred doors. I was revolving in my mind the Possibilities of my caller’s Identity. £ Who could it be? Spurred on by iy curiosity, I hastened into the counfei room. There sat my great-unde t He looked'tn much better physical Condition than when I had last seen more vigorous and healthier. His Skin was browned from exposure to the sun and wind, and his eyes were Clearer and brighter. As I studied his face I could trace no vestige there of the terrible fear that had seemed to obsess him on the last occasion of our meeting. * For a moment we eyed each other Without speaking. I was wondering—and well I think I might—whether the suspicions I had at times In regard to him had been wholly without foundation. Could it be possible that the crafty, miserly old chap was the master mind at the bottom of all the mystery and plotting? As my previous suspicions came up in my mind I determined to be wary in what I said to him. The fires of anger toward him began to kindle within me as I looked at him. I felt that it was his fault that I was locked up here.

Meanwhile he had been studying me. His keen old eyes had surveyed me from head to foot, returning to rest fixedly on my face, as though he was trying to read my thoughts. I wondered what was passing in his mind. Was he inwardly chortling at the plight in which he found tte? Was he distressed to see a blood-relative behind the bars? Did he believe that I was guilty of the murder of Daisy Lutan? How had he learned of my arrest? What was his purpose in coming to see me? But his expression was unfathomable, so far as I was concerned. w He was the first to speak. “So —you didn’t do It, did you?" “Of course not," I retorted indignantly. “Did you suspect that I was a murderer?” He shook his head disparagingly, smiling an inscrutable smile. “The evidence against you certainly looks convincing.” “I don’t care,” I exclaimed with beat. ‘Tm as innocent of the killing of Daisy Lutan as” —I hesitated —“as you are.” He nodded his head approvingly. "There, there, boy, don’t get excited. Of course I know you are innocent, you’re of the Gaston blood, and there never was a Gaston that was a murderer or a lawbreaker. I never suspected you for a single second. I was off in the Maine woods twenty miles from a railroad. I didn’t see a newspaper until day before yesterday evening. My eye just happened to catch a paragraph about the Granddeck. It was about your trial for the murder of Miss Lutan being set for next week. That was the first I had heard about it J traveled all night to get to you.” My feelings toward him underwent a sudden revulsion. There was every evidence of sincerity in his manner. The knowledge that he believed in me yas the most welcome news I had heard since my incarceration. k 1 “We'll soon have you out of here,”

he went on, “now that I am here to help you. I got you into this, and PH get you out of it if it takes every cent ’ I possess. There’s more than one fight left in old Rufus yet. Now start at the very beginning and tell me everything that has happened since I have been away." What a relief it was to talk freely ! With my mind once and for all cleared of all suspicion toward my old great-uncle, I began my story. Somehow the tie of blood is strong in time of trouble. I found It vastly easier to talk with my aged relative than it lad been with either Gorman or my I began with my chance • meeting oHth Barbara Bradford in the park as tie blackmailers awaited her there, i told everything that had followed jfhe utmost detail, even to such matters as my first meeting with Wick and the undue curiosity had exhibited as to my acqualntwith the Hrwdftwda I recited the story of my unaccoutable dis-

and told of Gorman's unavailing efforts to learn the reason. “The day I was discharged," I went on. "I had drawn out from the savings bank all my money with the purpose of sending it to my mother to whom I was in debt I still had it with me when I arrived home at the apartment and I decided to put it in the wall safe, to which, you recall, you had given me the combination. Out of mere curiosity”—l made this confession with a blush of shame—“l had inspected the contents of the safe the day of my arrival and had examined the two caskets. The minute I opened the safe this second time I saw that it had been looted." “What," exclaimed my great-uncle, starting from his seat, “not the pearls I" I nodded. “Everything. The casket with the pearls was gone. The other with the trinkets was undisturbed.” “Good heavens I” he exclaimed. “My wife’s pearls stolen! Why, boy, I paid a hundred and fifty thousand dollars for that string. Tell me everything about it—everything, at once." I could only repeat what I had told him already. When I had opened the safe on Sunday the pearls were there. When I had opened it again on the following Saturday the pearls were gone. “Of course you told the police at once." I explained to him why I had not done so, and my reason seemed to satisfy him. “Go on with your story," he calmly directed. He seemed to have himself well In hand again. After the first shock at hearing of the loss of the pearls he showed no sign of emotion or displeasure. He listened intently as J told him of my second meeting with Barbara Bradford when I had learned that the Bradford wall safe had been looted, too, and the papers abstracted concerning the annullment of Claire’s first marriage. He nodded his head slightly wheq I told him of the anonymous notes found on the floor In both apartments.

“Did you hear the whispers, too?” he questioned. “Yes,” I answered, “I heard them several times. Barbara has heard them, and the laundress, too.” A look of unspeakable relief came over his face. “I’m glad to know that others have heard them besides myself. When a man gets old his nerves sometimes play film strange pranks. The whispers seemed so unreal and Incredible that I feared that I was suffering from the hallucinations of old age. Now that I know that the whispers are real, there Is nothing to fear." “And,” I observed, “I believe, I am almost positive, I can explain the origin of the whispers.” “Tell me,” he cried, his manner now entirely changed. He seemed elated at discovering that his brain was still dependable. It was as if a burden had suddenly been lifted from him. Here was my Gorman had utterly refused to credit my story of a secret passage and had ridiculed it. There had been no way that I could prove it, nor was it possible for Gorman to have investigated the walls of the Gramfdeck, even if he had placed any credence in my story. With my great-uncle it was different. As the occupant of the apartment he would have every right and opportunity to explore and verify my statements. I told him how, while speculating as to the origin of the whispers, I had observed the discrepancy in the measurements of the apartment and had verified my deduction that there was space enougn for a passageway big enough for a man to traverse in the wall between the' room I had occupied and the long hall. He listened intently as I described the plan of the rooms In detail and nodded his approval. “And what is more.” I added triumphantly, “Barbara Bradfcmi and I had just discovered an opewg into it by pushing the wall panel in my room back and then sliding it along. We were inspecting it when we heard the shot in the apartment below. I closed the panel and ran downstairs and have had no opportunity since to investigate. but I am sure the passage is there. lam convinced that It was the sound of voices there that made the whispers. I suspect it was used by whoever left the anonymous notes in the room, and that the person or persons who looted the safes entered and escaped by that means. I would not be surprised If it was not by means of this passageway that the murderer of Miss Lutan escaped, after he had left his revolver in the drawer of my dresser.” My great-uncle shook his head perplexedly. “It sounds Improbable —too much like a romance. They do not build modern apartment buildings with ...secret passageways. Space is far too valuable, and besides, all plans have to be filed with the city's bureau of Jywildings." “But it’s there." I cried desperately. “I saw it Barbara Bradford saw it" “Well," he comforted me, “we will

soon find out about it I have many matters to attend to today, but tomorrow I shall go up tp the apartment, and if there is such a passageway I shall find it and see where it leads.” "Then you are not staying In the apartment?” “No, I shall remain at a hotel until my wife returns.” At this juncture a prison attendant approached and Informed him that the time of his visit was up. Imperiously my great-uncle waved the man away. Somehow the possession of great wealth carries with It a manner of expecting obedience from every one that generally is successful. The man withdrew, muttering to himself and left us undisturbed. “Now' tell me about the murder,” Mr. Gaston directed. Concisely I stated the facts as I knew them. It was a shock to him to hear that at least two of the trusted attendants at the Granddbck, Wick and the telephone girl, were of the criminal class. “Tut. tut, tut,” he exclaimed. “Just think of it! That’s the worst of living in a big city. You never know what sort of people there are about you. I’ll call up Mr. Kent, the owner of the building, this afternoon and have him get rid of them at once." “Please don’t,” I cried. “Gorman and I are both convinced that Wick and the girl know something about the murder. Don’t do anything to let them know that they are under suspicion. So long as they are employed at the Granddeck we know where to lay hands on them when we want them.” ■ "That’s so,” he admitted. “I’ll say nothing for the present As I won’t be living there until after this is

cleared up, It can make no difference. But, look here, young man, why doesn’t this Bradford girl come forward and clear you of this charge? She was with you at the time. She knows you didn’t do it.” “Because I will not permit her to do so,” I replied with heat “I love Barbara Bradford!” “That’s it, is it?” he commented, giving me a quizzical glance from under his bushy white eyebrows. “I wouldn’t for all the world,” I continued, “have her mixed up in this. Her sister is to be married tomorrow, and the scandal might stop the wedding; and besides I’m not going to have it known that she was there alone with me that night In my rooms. I love her too well for that Some day I am going to ask her to be my wife.” He raised his eyebrows. “And on what do you expect to marry?” he inquired. “Of course I have said nothing as yet,” I hastened to explain; *Tve nothing to offer her.” “No,” he agreed, “you’ve nothing to offer her” —and then with a meaning glance he added a little word that in spite of my predicament made my heart sing with joy and stirred my expectations mightily—“you’ve nothing to offer her —yet “But cheer up,” he advised as a parting word of counsel, “Til get in touch with Gorman and your lawyer as soon as I leave here today, and tomorrow we will find out about that secret passage you think you have discovered." Compunction that I ever had doubted the integrity of his purpose toward me smote as he departed. I tried to think of something to say to express my gratitude to him, to let him know how much I appreciated his coming at once to my aid, but the only thing 1 could think of slipped from my lips: “I am sorry about the pearls.” “So am I,” he answered grimly, and went his way. One thing now I certainly was sure of—his was not the master-mind that had planned all the criminal deeds, but the mystery of the Granddeck was still as much of a mystery as ever. CHAPTER XII. It was the second day after this—the. day set for Claire Bradford's wedr ding—that In the morning, much earlier than customary, Gorman came to the prison to see me. ;

I met him jubilantly. My uncle’s .unexpected return to the city and his generous and convincing offers of aid had filled me with new hopes. I trusted, too, that old Rufus' keen eyes quickly would discover the secret passageway now that I had Indicated to him where to look for IL I was confidently expecting that the resulting developments quickly would free me from even the suspicion of being a murderer. The minute, however, that I laid eyes on Gorman I knew that something had gone wrong. “What is it?” I cried. “What’s the matter now?” “You’re a wonderful liar, you are,” was his surly greeting, “with your pipe dreams about secret passageways and stolen pearls.” “What do you mean?” I replied. I had not the least idea what he was getting at “You almost had me believing you," he said savagely. “If it wasn’t that I knew that Wick and that girl up there were crooks I would wash my hands of the whole affair.” “I don’t understand,” I answered Indignantly. “Every statement I have made to you has been the absolute truth." “Yes;tthas!” he sneered. ‘ Ordinarily I would have resented anyone talking to me in this manner, but I felt that under no circumstances could I afford to quarrel with Gorman. He was the only friend I had in the whole city that I could rely on, excepting of course my great-uncle. I contented myself with merely reasserting: “I tell you it is all true —every word of It.” “The old man’s home—old Rufus,” he responded irrelevantly. “I know,” I replied. “I saw him for a few minutes day before yesterday. He promised to (io everything in his power to free me as speedily as possible. After talking with him I am confident that he had nothing whatever to do w’lth any part of the plot Have you seen him?” “Yes,” said Gorman, significantly, “I’ve seen him. He looked me up yesterday and we went over thfe ’case together. He suggested that we go up to the Granddeck and look over the apartment, and we did. The minute w r e got in he went to the wall safe and opened it up and —” . Gorman stopped short and looked at me. It seemed to me that there were doubt and distrust in his expression.

“Go on,” I cried, “what did you find?” “We found,” he said, speaking slowly and putting special emphasis on his third w’ord, “two jewel boxes there, the one with the pearls and the other one.” “What,” I cried, aghast at this incredible bit of news, “two Jewel cases!” “Sure we did,” he announced triumphantly. “And the pearls were there as safe as when the old man went away. Now what have you got to say to that?” What could I say? I knew as positively as I knew that I was alive that on that Saturday when I had opened the wall safe to put away my money there had been but one of the jewel boxes there. I had taken it out and had examined its contents again. With the aid of a lighted match I had explored every corner of the steel-lined receptacle. The box containing the pearls and the .rest of the valuables in the Gaston collection was gone. Now the pearls were safely back there again. HoW could that be explained? The mystery was too much for me. There was not the slightest reason for me to believe that Gorman was lying to me now. I had found him in all our dealings straightforward and candid. If he said he had seen greatuncle Rufus find the pearls there it must be so, but how could they have got there? Could it be possible, I wondered, that subconsciously, burdened with the responsibility of the custody of such costTy gems, I might have risen in my sleep and in a somnolent state removed the pearls to some other hiding place. No, I decided, ■ that theory was too preposterous and absurd for even a moment’s consideration. If I had done that in my sleep I must also have restored them to the safe again in my sleep. It was far more likely that the thief, becoming alarmed over the publicity brought to the Granddeck by the murder, had been afraid to attempt to dispose of gems so well-known as the Gaston pearls and had restored them in the same mysterious way that he had abstracted them. I suggested this theory to Garman. CTO BE CONTINUED.)

“You’re a Wonderful Liar, You Are," Was Hia Surly Greeting.