Evening Republican, Volume 23, Number 197, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 August 1920 — The House of Whispers [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The House of Whispers

By WILUAM JOHNSTON

■tatrattMcby IK WIN MYERS

OnmMM >y LllUe. BN*n * On. . CHAPTER XlV—Continued. —l7— "I have,** she answered, looking at him steadily In the eye, but speaking with a slight tremor in her tones. 1 wondered to what it might be due. Was it because she feared the consequences of the revelation as to her identity, or was it that she feared she might be trapped by his questions? “Now tell me, Mrs. Moore,” he shot at her explosively, “who really murdered Daisy Lutan?” "Henry Kent,” she answered quickly, before the district attorney had time to stop her. "What’s this?" exclaimed the judge. "What did you say?” "Object! object!" vociferated the district attorney, striving in vain to catch the attention of the Judge presiding. McGregor, apparently well satisfied with the results of his question, stood there, smiling assurance at me. "Young woman,” directed the Judge, "will you kindly repeat your last statement —louder. Who did you say killed Daisy Lutan?” The girl turned to face the judge. Her lips were set as if she had determined to carry out some fixed plan, cost what it might “Daisy Lutan," she repeated, “was murdered by Henry Kent, who owns the Granddeck. He’s really Orville Granders, the bank president who got away with eight hundred thousand dollars'and was sent up for seventeen years.”

There was a commotion In the rear of the courtroom. A dapper little old gentleman with neatly trimmed white whiskers rose hastily and made a dash for the door. Gorman, who had been sitting behind him, sprang after .him and pinioned him by the arms: “Nothing doing, Granders. I’ve got you.”

Wick, sitting up near the counsel table, at the same time showed evidence that he, too, was contemplating hasty flight, but a husky chap whom I suspected of being one of Gorman’s aides, seized him, too. "Your honor,” cried my counsel, “I demand the issuance of warrants at once for Orville Granders, alias Henry Kent, and his confederate, James Wilcon, alias James Wick and ‘Stuffy Jim,’ on the charge of having murdered Daisy Lutan and Rufus Gaston. I further urge the immediate release of my client, Mr. Spalding Nelson, In my custody. Testimony that we already have obtained will establish that he was an innocent victim of the dastardly plots of these two ex-con-victs.”

The reaction that came from this sudden clearing of my name left me in a puzzled daze from which I hardly recovered until late that evening, when, once more free, I found myself in the Gaston apartment Grandeys, his tool. Wick, and practically every employee of the Granddeck were under arrest, and warrants were out for other members of the band whose identity had been revealed by the former telephone girl. And there in the apartment with me were my mother, Gorman. McGregor—and to my surprise-and delight. Barbara Bradford. After her sister's wedding, it appeared, Barbara's mother had gone away for a brief rest, leaving her alone In the apartment with the servants. She had welcomed the opportunity to work undisturbed on the mystery that had landed me behind the bars. Thinking that at Rufus Gaston’s funeral she might pick up some clue that would be of service in unraveling the tangled skein that held her and me together, she had gone thither, aad seeing my mother there, and suspecting at once whb she might be, had introduced herself. Quickly they had become good friends and she It was who had informed my mother of my plight.

Present also with us, despite the lateness of the hour, was the district attorney and two of his aides, and Nellie Kelly, or as she much preferred to be called, Mrs. Moore. The girl was technically a prisoner, but her services In bringing the real criminals to book had been so exceptional that she had been released on her own recognizance. Hither she had been brought that the district attorney might check up with her the marvelous tale of criminal conspiracy that she had unfolded to my counsel in the brief recess of the court that day. . Orville Grandees, it appeared, had been the master-mind that had directed all the plotting. A score of years before he had been president of one of the metropolis’ biggest banks. He had been discovered to have embezrJed nearly a million dollars. He had been tried and sentenced to seventeen years’ Imprisonment, but no one ever had been able to find what he had done with the money, so safely bad be hidden ft away. la his long years to prison, associating daily with criminals of the worst sari, and listening to their plans for

further crime on their release, his own criminal Instincts, already dejgloped. had grown stronger, and be had spent his time planning a new system of crime of which he was to be the head, using as his confederates certain evildoers with whom he had become acquainted In prison. When he bad been released he had slipped quietly away to the West and lived in close retirement until he had been forgotten. The white whiskers he had grown so changed his appearance, too. that be had little fear of being recognized. Recovering such part of the stolen money as was left to him, he had come to New York In the guise of a prosperous Western Investor and. purchasing a plot of land, had erected the Granddeck apartments, designed for the occupancy of the wealthiest class of tenants.

In this building, sitting like a little white spider in his web, he planned to prey secretly on all who came to live there. Every attendant In the building was either a criminal or an associate of criminals, reporting to him daily all that went on, and obeying his orders implicitly. A special switchboard in, bls apartment enabled him to listen In at will on aH- telephone conversations that went on. Every letter delivered at the Granddeck went through his hands before reaching the tenants. For every wall safe in the building he held a master combination and his pass-key would unlock every door there was. And in addition to all this — HE HAD BUILT A SECRET PASSAGEWAY. We found it that night and explored it, familiarizing ourselves with all its exits, greatly to the amazement and confounding of Gorman. Connecting with the service elevator by a masked opening, it ran along the hall of each apartment, with entrances concealed in wall panels. It enabled Granders to wander at will through the apartments at night, leaving mysterious notes to terrify his tenants, prying Into the secrets hidden in their wall safes, listening when he chose to theTr most private conversations, examining the contents of their pockets. As he had planned from the beginning. he gained In this way much information that he was able to utilize to his financial profit without arousing suspicion. He had discovered, Mrs. Moore said, secret stock market movements one of his tenants was planning and had made a small fortune out of the advance Information. Several injudicious women he had successfully blackmailed, turning over to agents who never came near the Granddeck the secrets he learned from letters he opened and telephone conversations he had listened to. In the case of Rufus Gaston, he had plotted to steal the Gaston pearls, Mrs. Moore explained, first terrifying the old couple into leaving the apartment. the whlbpers that had been beard coming of course from the secret passageway.

“But I can’t understand,” I said, “why, after he had once got hold 'Of the pearls in Mr. Gaston’s absence, he should have restored them to their hiding place.” “He had a duplicate made of phony pearls," explained Mrs. Moore. “It was part of his plan not to have any of the tenants discover the thefts for a long time after they occurred.” “If he was so cautious,” said the district attorney, “I am puzzled as to why he killed Miss Lutan and Mr. Gaston. He must have realized that both murders would be thoroughly Investigated.” “Both were accidents, so to speak,” the girl explained. “Each of them surprised him in their apartment, and

he had to kill them to make his getaway. I suppose he had been roaming around so much he had got careless.” “How about the revolver?” asked Gorman. “How did he come to plant it in Nelson’s room?” “He was puzzled by Mr. Nelson butting in on the Bradford case, and it made him sore. I heard him and Wick talking about it one day, and he said that he’d teach Mr. Nelson not to interfere. ’How 7 asked Wick. Til frame him for the goat if anything happens.’ ” “And was it he who had me discharged from my office?” I asked, eagerly. “Sure It was. He wrote a note on Mr. Gaston’s stationery saying that you had forged a check after he had befriended you. He wrote in the letter that he was not going to prosecute you because of your mother, but that he felt that you were unworthy of employment anywhere.” "I believe," said the district attorney, “that that clears everything up, except for one thing—why. Mrs. Moore, did you aid him and Wie* to all these crimes?"

“He promised that If 1 would help him be would get Eddie out.” she cried. "I was desperate, rd do anything to get my busbSnd back.” • Gorman add the district attorney exchanged meaning glances. While nothing more was said, 1 felt sure as they departed that both were thinking that this brave young woman who bad solved the mystery for them certainly deserved some reward, and I think we all realized that the only reward life ever could hold for her was the freedom of her husband. Presently they went and left us alone, Gorman, my mother, Barbara, and L “There are still two things I cannot understand,” I said, as we sat talking It over. “The first is”—and I turned to Barbara—"what wW your sister doing In this apartment on* the night of the first murder? When I came up from the Lutan apartment I caught her Just coming out of my door. I could not help wondering If they had made her plant the revolver.” Barbara started up, blushing. “Oh, no,” she cried, “It was nothing like that You remember a few moments before you and I had been in your room, looking at the secret pas-

sageway. Claire Just then had come Into my room looking for me. She was puzzled by my absence, and the only solution that came to her was that I must be in your rooms. Alarmed at what she considered my Imprudence, she had slipped out Into the hall, and seeing your door open, had investigated. Of course she did not find me, for I had returned by way of the window ledge. She told me about it the night before she was married. I don’t wonder, though, that you suspected her.” “I didn’t suspect her,” I cried. “I just wondered what she had been doing there.” “That’s right,” said Gorman. “He wouldn’t believe for a minute that she had had anything to do with it.” “But what puzzles me most,” I went on, “is how you ever persuaded the telephone girl to give Granders away. It must have been done after she had given her first testimony. How did it happen that she' changed so suddenly over to our side?” As I looked from one to the other for an explanation, Gorman burst out laughing. “You’ll have to ask Miss Bradford about that,” he said. “She did it all.” I turned again to look at Barbara, expecting her to speak, but she merely blushed and was silent ’ “Go on, tell me? I urged her. “Well ” she said hesitatingly, “as I heard her testifying, I had an Inspiration. I beard her say that she loved her husband, and that she did not care who knew it —and—and —and —all at once I realized that love was the strongest influence in the world, so I had Mr. McGregor ask for an adjournment ®nd then —” She stopped in confusion, the rosy blushes once more mantling her cheeks. “Go on,” I Insisted. "I can’t tell it,” she cried. “You must tell,” I urged. “I have a right to know it. What did you do?" “I managed to see her alone.” Again she hesitated. “What did you say to her?” I demanded. “I just told her,” she faltered, lowering her eyes as she spoke, “that—that I loved you just as much as she • loved her husband, and I begged her for love’s sake not to help send you to the chair, and she broke, down and told everything.” “Oh, Barbara, my Barbara!” I cried, springing up l and clasping her in my arms. “If only I had something to offer you besides my love—” “I wouldn’t worry about that Just now, Spalding,” interrupted my mother’s voice. “They found your greatuncle’s will tbday. He made you his sole heir.” . But Barbara and I hardly heeded her good news. We were too busy telling each other the world-old story. [THE END.]

He Had Built a Secret Passageway.

"If Only I Had Something to Offer You Besides My Love!"