Indianapolis Times, Volume 40, Number 232, Indianapolis, Marion County, 15 February 1929 — Page 18

PAGE 18

CHAPTER XIV (Continued ) "Going, Dr. Nielson?” the detective broke off to inquire, as the medical examiner stepped softly toward the door. "You can tell the chief just how stupid McMann is, :;nd ask him to prepare a warrant for the arrest of Ruth Lester. My only hope is that she gets as able a lawyer as Colby Lester to defend her.” . a b u JACK HAYWARD lunged toward McMann, trying to free himself of Ruth's convulsive embrace, but a mild, diffident voice halted him. "Before you arrest any one, especially Miss Lester, my dear Sherlock,” Dr. Nielson spoke from the doorway, "I advise you to interview the woman who cleaned these offices Saturday afternoon. She, at least, would have no reason to conceal the murder. "The chaps from the morgue will be here any minute now, and I’ll phone you a report of my findings after I complete the autopsy. Good day—and step softly, McMann.” Ferber. the finger print expert, shouldered his camera and picked up his kit. “I’ll amble on, too, McMann. I’ll develop these negatives and send you copies in an hour or so.” As the two men were leaving, Coghlan, superintendent of the building, pushed his way in. “About through with my boys, chief? My elevator service Is crippled.” McMann had risen and was pacing the office, from the airshaft window to the desk and back to the window again. “Get substitutes!” he shouted irritably. “I’m not through with them and won’t be any time soon. ... By the way, Coghlan,” he demanded suddenly, stopping at the raised window and peering out of it, “who has the office directly opposite?” The superintendent made a wide qfetour to avoid the thing that lay on the floor. “Let's see,” he considered, scratching his head. “This murder’s got me so upset I can’t think right clear —” Ruth had feared that question and its inevitable answer so long that she had no power now to feel more fear as Jack Hayward interrupted, his voice quiet and matter--of-fact: “That Is my office. McMann.” McMann looked from the corpse upon the floor to the window near which it lay, then, squarely facing the window, he stood for a moment, before staggering backward. A choked scream checked his toorealistic pantomime of the falling of a mortally wounded body. “Stupid, eh?” he gasped, as he righted himself, without a glance at the dead man whose last movements he believed he had imitated. “Moran! At what time did Hayward return to his office?” “He didn't—so far as I know!” Micky Moran retorted. McMann was nonplussed only for i moment. His pointing finger aimed itself at Otto Pfluger, who had been leaning, silent and sullen, against the wall during the entire time he had been in the room. “You, there, tow-head! You run the car nearest Hayward’s office, don’t you? What time Saturday afternoon did you bring him up?” Ruth did not scream again. Now

Common Bridge Errors AND HOW TO CORRECT THEM BY W. W. WENTWORTH

44. FAIIIXG TO PLAY SO AS TO FORCE MASTER CARDS North (Dummy) AQ 8 ? 08 7 4 4.J9 s e West— • EastLeads V 3 South (Declarer) — AA K 5 VJ 7 5 OAS 33 AA K Q The Bidding South bids notrump and all pass. Deciding (he Piay—West leads 3

THE NEW Saint'Sinnor ByJlmieJiustin CI92BTNEA.saMa.WC

At 0 o'clock that Thursday moramg Harry Blaine gathered up a handful of typewritten sheets and lurched wearily to his city editor's desk. •‘Here's the yarn, Chet. I'm going to beat it over to Darrow now and get a follow up on the poor kids condition." “All right. Better stop at the shack and see if you can pick up anything else. I've got an expert at work figuring the size of the shoes the kidnaper wore, from the footprints he left. "Shoes had been hall-soled, luckily. If the police find those boots, their owner may swing for murder if the girl doesn't pull through," the city editor added. "I'm afraid they won't find 'em.* Harr}' Blaine answered, with apparently regretful pessimism. But as he ran down the stairs to where he had parked Nils Jonson's car—there had not been time to return it yet—he was assuring himself jubilantly: "I'll say they won’t find those shoes! Not unless they drain the lake below Marlboro dam!" As he burned up the road in his haste to reach Darrow. however, the city editor's last words whined like a fire siren in his ears: "If the girl doesn't pull through." Surely the poor kid had been punished enough, the boy argued angrily with the fear that made his heart pound heavily. Why, she wasn't bad! Just a foolish, kid that

that the inevitable had happened strength and courage came to her from somewhere, possibly from the thought that whatever Jack had done, he had done for love of her. VHAPTER XV OTTO PFLUGER hunched his shoulders and rammed his hands deeper into the pockets of his uniform. “I dunno—about two o’clock. I guess. I ain't kaepin’ tabs on them that’s got a right to come and go.” “Isn’t there a register record for Saturday afternoon, Coghlan? You require every one to sign in and out, don’t you?” Coghlan shook his head. “Not until 4 o’clock Saturdays. Too many tenants coming and going before then.” “I can tell you almost to the minute when I returned and when I left the builuing,” Jack HaywarS settled the question matter-of-factly. “Miss Lester and I went to lunch at the Chester hotel, and just before dessert was served I discovered that I had left the theater tickets on my desk. We were going to a matinee. I looked at my watch, found that it was ten minutes to two, and walked rapidly from the Chester to the Starbridge building—a distance of only two blocks. “I didn't have to wait for the elevator, so it must have been not later than five or six minutes of 2 when I got off at the seventh floor. I went to my office .and—” “Just a minute!” McMann interrupted. “I’d just a little bit rather have Otto's story before you have a chance to tell him what he remembers. And you might unclench that fist of yours, Hayward. I’m afraid you’ll sprain your fingers, and that would be too bad. . . . “Now% Otto, how long was Mr. Hayward in his office” before he went back down again in your car?” “I ain’t saying he w r as in his office at all,” Otto denied sullenly. “Oh!” McMann pounced. “So you saw him head toward this wing of the building when he left the elevator, did you?” Otto Pfluger shrugged, and slouched lower against the wall. “Naw, I ain’t sayin’ he w ? as in his office or he w r asn’t in his office, because I didn’t follow him—see? I 'tended to my business and that was runnin’ my elevator.” “And right now, young man. your business is to answer my questions,” McMann retorted. “I may not give you a tip to keep your mouth shut, as Mr. Hayward evidently did, but I can give you a free pass to the jail if you don’t open up and spili what you know.” “Mr. Hayward didn’t give me no tip Saturday naw, nor this mornin’ neither! He tips us boys regular the first of the month, like most of the other tennant do . . . Aw, all right! I'm tellin’ you, if you’ll let me! “It was about 10 minutes after T took him up before I took him down again, I guess, because I sent my kid brother, what was hangin’ around in the lobby, over to the drug store across the street to get me a cup of-coffee, right after I'd took Mr. Hayw'ard up and I’d drunk it before he rung for me to take him down.”

of hearts. What card should be piayed from Dummy? The Error—Queen of hearts is played and game is sacrificed. The Correct Method Dummy should play 4 of hearts and if East wins this trick with either ace of hearts or king of hearts he will return a heart which South will cover with jack of hearts, forcing West’s highest card. The result is that queen of hearts is established and game is made. T :, e Principle—Whenever holding queen and two minor cards in Dummy, and jack and thgee minor cards in the closed hand, or vice versa, avoid leading the suit; when led up to, play low unless an honor is led thaf you can cover, and a trick will always be made in that suit. tCopvrlght. 1529. Ready Reference Publishing Company!

had had a tough break all along the line, and had taken a crazy way out of her troubles. She hadn't meant any harm, really. Hadn't she risked her life to make sure that she could not be asked to identify any possible suspect as her kidnaper? “Lord!” Harry Blaine groaned aloud. Then, to himself: “I can just see her—standing up there on that table, screwing up her nerve to hurl herself down on that log! “I bet not one girl In a million would have had the guts to do that. Confessed the whqle thing to me, too. thinking I'd put it all in the papers! . . . Lord!” he breathed again, aloud, but this time the ejaculation was almost a prayer. "Ready to face the fling squad, she was. If anybody else had found her —!” But that would not bear thinking about. "Hope to heaven she won't hate the sight of me when she gets well, because I know the truth about it all. Got to prove I’m proud of her and that I understand.” he told himself. “If I can help it, that poor kid's not going to be so lonely in the future that she'll have to invent mysterious suitors’ and then have to kidnap herself to get out of the mess. "Not if T can help it!” and he rodded fiercely. . . . Then, with a frown. “Wonder if she was really in love with that Mexican boy, or just infatuated?” (To Be Continued)

McMANN grinned crookedly as he made rapid notes of the boy's story. “You didn't have any other passenger during those ten minutes, Otto?” “Naw.” “And when Mr. Hayward left, did you notice anything peculiar about his behavior?” McMann suggested. Otto glowered. “Naw.” Ruth could have kissed the sullen young towhead for his failure to mention a fact which might yet assume vast importance—that Jack Hayward had returned to his office empty-handed and left it with a heavy brief case. “Who else rodfe in your car between 2 and 4 o’clock Saturday?” McMann prodded the unwilling witness. “I ain't been taking no memory course,” Otto Pfluger shrugged. "But as far as I remember I didn't take down no passengers from the seventh floor after Mr. Hayward left.” McMann scowled, then turned upon Micky Moran, who grinned cheerfully. “How about you, Moran? Who were your passengers for the seventh floor after Miss Lester’s and Mr. Hayward’s second trip?” Micky scratched his thatch of red hair. “First I brought up Benny Smith, the kid that works here.” “Benny!” Ruth exclaimed. “Why he left for the day at exactly 1 o'clock!” “Well, he come back,” Micky grinned. “Said he'd forgot something. I took him back down three or four minutes later. . . . And say. I guess ’at lets Miss 1 jester out, all o. k. If the kid had found his boss dead he wouldn’t a-rode back down whistling, would he?” Ruth smiled gratefully at the boy who was so obviously anxious to lift suspicion from her. “If the boy came back for something he'd forgotten, it w r as undoubtedly in the outer office,” McMann pointed out. “And the door w-as closed between the two offices after Borden W’as killed, according to Miss Lester’s own story of her discovery of the body. "But you stick to your own story, Moran, and let the office boy tell his when he comes in—if he ever gets here,” McMann added curtly. “Who else came to the seventh floor Saturday afternoon?” “That lady I heard you call Mrs. Borden,” Micky answered sullenly. “Gees! I didn’t know the sheik was married!” he added, brightening. “He sure didn't let it cramp his style none.” McMann frowned. “Keep your opinions to yourself until they’re called for, Moran! When did you bring Mrs. Borden up?” nan MICKY stuck out his lower jaw pugnaciously and seemed about to go into a stubborn silence. Then, “I dunno! Pretty soon after I took Beeny down, I guess. After halfpast one, anyway.” “Did you notice her manner? Anything unusual?” McMann rapped out. “I didn’t pay no attention to her. She didn’t mean nothing in my young life,” Micky retorted. “She just got in the elevator and I took her up—that’s all.” “And when she came down?” McMann was having hard work to restrain his anger and impatience. “Was she upset? Crying? Pale?” “Gees! I didn't give her a second look, after I seen it was the same lady I’d took up,” Micky protested disgustedly. “I ain’t got no time for dames her age.” McMann looked as if he could cheerfully have clouted the impudent youngster over the head, but he limited the expression of his anger to a black scowl. “Any one else?” “Sure. A frail that was here Saturday morning, and two or three times before then,” Micky answered sulkily. “Looked like a chorus girl.” “Rita Dubois!” Ruth cried. **T thought she was to meet Mr. Borden at the station—” “Just a minute,’’ McMann silenced her peremptorily. “Describe the girl, Moran—hair, eyes, clothes, anything you can remember.” “Black hair, black eyes. Kinda tall and slinky, like a movie vamp.” Micky obliged. “I didn’t notice her clothes, ’cept she had on a swell fur coat with a real live white orchid pinned on the collar.” McMann looked at Ruth, who i nodded an eager confirmation of the \ girl’s identity. “All right, Moran. When did you bring her up and what happneed, that you know of? Did you talk with her?” “Not when I brought her up.” Micky answered the last question first. “She was looking so sore, tapping her foot and acting so impatient. that I kept my mouth shut.” “When was this?” McMann pounced. , “Gees, T dunno! ’Bout half an hour after Mrs. Borden left, I reckon. I ain't got no way of telling the time each party come up. I let her off at the seventh floor and then I went back down. While my car was down, the telephone in the booth started ringing and I answered it. The starter goes off at half-past one, and "-hey wasn't anybody else but me down there.”’ “Yes? What of it?” McMann demand impatiently. “How long before Miss Dubois rang for the elevator?” “ ’At's what I don't know—not exactly,” Micky' admitted, flushing. “It—'at was my girl on the phone, and I made a date with her for Sunday, and—and kidded her along awhile, ’nen when I got back in my car the seventh floor red light was on.” v a a a “TMVE minutes? Seven minutes? X 1 Ten minutes?” McMann suggested impatiently. “Maybe ten minutes, maybe more.” Micky admitted, his flush deepening. “This Rita dame looks sore because I've kept her waitin’, and I jolly her up a bit. I says to her. “sorry if I kept you waitin,’ miss. I was makin’ a date with my sweetie,’ I says. Nen she says, ’well, be sure you don’t stand her up, old dear. (To Be Continued)

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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PRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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THE BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE

Pwr Sir Patrick Hume, disguised as a peasant, made his way to London and secured passage on a ship which took him to the Continent. His estates were now declared forfeit to the crown, and the family was left without means. Grizel and her mother rent to London, and pleaded for support- They were £ anted $750 a year out of the estate. I _ THraufhSpacjal PtraitMan and of Th Soatr 8> KfWwUdQ- CoprW l *-

Bv Ahern

Sir Patrick was not Idle in the meantime. He' joined with others in an invasion of Scotland. This was defeated and he had to retire to Ireland.,

OUT OUR WAY

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When Sir Patrick took his family to Ireland, one daughter was left in Scotland, so Crizel alone. braved the dangers of the unhappy country to rescue her.

SKETCHES BY BESSEY. SYNOPSIS BY BKAUCHEB

Crizel was the little mother of the family. took them to Holland where she relieved her mother of many of the cares of the household and helped in every way to keep the wolf of poverty from the door during the bleak years. She had grown into a beautiful young woman and many handsome young men sought her hand in marriage. (T® Bo Continued) Sketches v* Cjpyrigt-t. 1927, TS® Gr*4:-r S*c*".y. Ky

FEB. IS. IS™

—l3y WtlliaiDi

—Bv Martin

Bv Blower

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By Small

By Cowan