Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 290, Indianapolis, Marion County, 15 April 1930 — Page 14

PAGE 14

[ .By Anne Auttin copyright ay nea sm/a.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE “T>HYLLIS BENHAM?” the prisJL oner echoed blankly. “I’ve never known a girl named Phyllis Benham.” “Phyllis Crosby?” Dundee suggested "Never heard of her,” Conway retorted. “Kin to that guy I was hired to work for?” "His dead wife. You stole her miniature,” Dundee replied quietly. "I took everything that was in a jewel box, without bothering to open some of the cases,” the prisoner explained frankly. "Doris Matthews told one of the maids that she had seen you somewhere before,” Dundee told him, trying anew tack. "Yes. In the dining room of the Stuart house Thursday night,” Conway answered promptly. “She was having dinner with a man. I met him Friday night at the servants’ dinner. Arnold, the chauffeur, he was. "He didn’t see me Thursday night, because his back was toward me, but I nearly got the girls goat staring at her. She was a peach. Os course I had on my glasses and my i%'ir was parted in the middle, not on the left side as it was Friday night. But I saw it had her bothered —where she'd seen me before.” “And you weren't taking any chances, w’ere you, Conway?” Strawn cut in savagely. “You knew the girl might remember and give you away. That’s why you killed her! Didn’t I tell you so yesterday, Dundee?’’ “I didn’t kill her!” Conway retorted. with amazing calm. “And I can prove it!” "Alibi, eh?” Strawn sneered. “It’ll take some alibi to get your neck out of this noose, may my man!” “4nd I've got it,” Conway assured him coolly. “Dont you think I knew from the papers when she was last seen alive? Listen: I finished my job at the Berkeley house before 10 o’clock. I could have stowed the junk in my pockets, but I took that black pigskin bag of Crosby’s just to throw dust in your eyes.” “What did you do with it?” "Chucked it on my way to the interurban stop,” Conway grinned. “If you can find out who owns a big coupe parked at the curb in front of 4318 Fairview road Friday night and will tell him to lift the back seat he’ll find the bag, unless he’s found it already and has been afraid to turn it in. “It’s got Crosby's tennis shoes in it. as well as the velvet boxes that all the loot w ? as kept in.” a a a CHECK on it, Sergeant Turner!” Strawn flung at his subordinate and Turner left the office on the run. “That was about 10:15,” Conway continued coolly. "By that time I’d put on my own shoes, which I'd carried out in the bag, buttoned up my topcoat to the collar, put on my glasses and parted my hair in the middle, like I always wear it. “I strolled on to the shed where passengers wait for the interurban and in about six minutes a car came along, just as I knew it w’ould. because I’ve been catching the interurban at that stop off and an for six months and I know the schedule.” “So you’ve been planning the haul that long, eh?” Strawn growled. “No. This was a jumped-up affair. But I’ve got a girl friend that lives not a million miles from the Berkely house. I take her home in a taxi, but I hop the interurban back to town.” “What’s her name?” “I’m not telling that,” Conway retorted, and meant it. “But the conductor and motorman who were on last night have seen me often enough the last six months to feel pretty well acquainted. “Friday night, on the 10:22, there was only a handful of passengers and I stood up front, talking to the old boy who runs the car. Motorman No. 65,” he supplied obligingly. “Got it all down pat, haven’t you?” Strawn commented sourly. “Yes.” Conway agreed. “He told me Friday night he had a fallen arch that was hurting like the devil and he’d be glad to pull into Hamilton and turn the car over to the motorman that was to relieve him at 10:46. The old boy usually goes off duty at 11:56. but he'd arranged for relief an hour ahead of schedule Friday night, because of his swollen foot.” “Check it, Payne!” Strawn flung over his shoulder at the detective lolling in the window. “Well, what's the rest of your yam?” he snarled at his prisoner and Dundee felt a surge of genuine sympathy toward his chief, who had counted so heavily upon “Johnson” to solve the murder. “I left the interurban at the Stuart house corner at 10:42.” Conway went on calmly. “I asked for my key and chatted a while with the night clerk —” "Get hold of* the night clerk of the Stuart house,” Strawn wearily

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ordered Detective Bums, who was also listening in on the confession. “The night clerk looked at the clock and asked me if my girl and I had a row, since it was so early,” Conway went on cheerfully. “Well, I went up to my room and stayed there till Saturday morning. I carried the jewelry in my pockets while I made my rounds of the shops Saturday, but this morning I stowed it away in my sample case, because I was afraid some of it might drop out of my pockets on the golf course. I was planning to call on the trade as usual all day Monday, then to leave Monday night for Chicago, per schedule. I aimed to ged rid of the stuff there, through a fence who's been bothering me to go back to the old racket.” a a a "TirHY didn’t you get rid of the W shirt and necktie?” Dundee “Just try to think up some way of getting rid of an incriminating bundle and see if you wouldn’t have done what I did,” Conway retorted reasonably. “I thought of a dozen ways, each more dangerous than the last, and finally I just left ’em around, as if they didn't mean a thing in my young life.” “Good psychology, which didn't happen to work this time,” Dundee sympathized. "The chambermaid brought them in this morning.” “You can’t crack a safe without taking a chance,” Conway shrugged. “But if I’d tried to sneak out and chuck ’em in an ash can, the chance would have been ten times bigger and as it turns out later, if I’d left the hotel I wouldn’t have had an airtight alibi on this murder business. “I didn’t even know a murder had been committed out there until I saw r an extra Saturday morning and at that time you didn’t know there'd been a burglary, so we were quits!” “And when you did learn of the murder?” Dundee prodded. “God, I nearly lost my head!” Conway admitted, with a shudder. “But I knew I had an alibi if worst came to worst and Hubert Cartwright was connected with Harvey Johnson, so I kept right on with my program of acting natural and taking orders for silk stockings.” “You say this Berkeley job was a jumped-up affair,” Strawn began sourly, after a long minute of silence. “What’s the yarn?” a a a “Friday morning nothing was further from my mind than to try the old racket again,” the prisoner answered earnestly. “But when I was showing my line to a buyer in a shop on Grand avenue I heard Mrs. Berkeley talking to Mrs. Lambert. “Shooting off her mouth to impress people, I guess. I heard her say, “Dear Mrs. Lambert! Don’t let me forget to go to the safe deposit vault for my jewels and right after w’e’ve had a bite of lunch, you must dash over to the employment bureau and try to get a valet for dear Mr. Crosby.”’ Even Strawn grinned appreciatively at the excellent imitation of Mrs. Berkeley's gushing speech and manner. “Well, I needed sudden money and it was me that ‘dear Mrs. Lambert’ hired as a valet,” Conway continued. “I had some references, but there’s no use asking me where I got 'em.” For nearly an hour Captain Strawn hammered away at his suspect, eliciting a very full and interesting confession of the burglary, but Dundee paid little attention. His mind was occupied intensely with more vital matters.

a a a AT the end of the hour every detail of Harold Conway’s alibi had been checked and verified. The owner of the coupe joined with the night clerk and with the interurban motorman in clinching the thing, for he promptly volunteered the information that he had left No. 4318 Fairview road at 10:55. And Doris Matthew’s was alive at that time. While Brede, the stenographer, was preparing a statement for Conway’s signature. Dundee drew’ Captain Strawn aside and asked in a low voice: “Well, what next, chief?” “Right back where we started from.” Strawn admitted bitterly. “DistrV Attorney Sherwood blew in here this morning and told me he’d take a hand himself if Johnson proved a washout on the murder business. I'll have to call him now and tell him the bad news.” He put in the call, w’ith such reluctance that Dundee felt sorry for him. When he hung up, he rejoined his young subordinate and told him gloomily: “Sherwood wants to see the notes you took yesterday. Got ’em with you?” a a a “Yes," Dundee admitted, drawing the packet of folded sheets from his pocket. He removed the final page, however, and returned it to his pocket. “Nothing—just some stuff I jotted down,” he hastily answered the suspicion in Strawn's eyes. “The stories are all complete

and I hope Sherwood has the grace to thank me.” “Catch him thanking a dick!” Strawn spat disgustedly. “I’ve got to wait here for that big bag of wind, then we’ll go out to Hillcrest together, I suppose, to have another shot at digging up the truth.” “Telephone for you, Dundee,” Payne interrupted. "Hello, Bonnie Dundee!” Gigi’s unmistakable voice shrilled over the wire. “I’m dying for news. Has Johnson confessed?” “To the burglary’, yes,” Dundee replied. “But he h*s an ironclad alibi for the murder. You’re not to tell any one though and I mean that, young woman! Where is everybody?” “Playing bridge,” she answered promptly. “That is, dad and Dick, Clorinda and Mrs. Lambert are playing. Abbie says she’s too nervous to play, but she’s kibitzing. As sure as dad bids two spades ” “I’ll be right out,” Dundee cut her short. “Remember, you’re honor bound not to spill the news till I get there.” “I’ll keep out of sight of the bridge fiends till you get here,” she promised. “Can you spare me Payne and a car?” Dundee asked his chief. “We’ll need him later anyway and he might as well be on hand . . . Thanks!” Detective Payne liked and admired Detective Dundee, but on the ride out to Hillcrest he found his young associate very poor company. “Park here, Payne,” Dundee ordered, as they slowed down outside" the gates of the estate. “Stop anybody that tries to leave the grounds.” He walked slowly to the house, wrestling with anew theory. Fifteen feet from the southwest corner of the house, however, he stopped short, as his nostrils were assailed with the overpowering odor of benzine. Who the devil coud be cleaning clothes on the Sunday afternoon? But before he tore down to the basement, from the open window: of which the fumes were pouring, Dundee was sure he knew the answer. (To Be Continued) HEARINGS ON FLOOD CONTROL TO START Study of Protective Measures to Be Made by House Group. By Scripps-Hoxcard Newspaper Alliance WASHINGTON, April 15. A series of important flood control hearings will start before the house flood control committee Wednesday. Chairman Frank R. Reed (Rep., 111.) expects to hear a report from a subcommittee on control of flood waters on the St. Francis and Missouri rivers. This report will be the basis from which a policy will be worked out to govern all legislation affecting tributaries of the Mississippi. Legislation to be discussed includes bills calling for protection of land threatened by construction of levees on the opposite side of the Mississippi river. In particular, levees have been constructed on the west side of the river opposite Tennessee and neighboring states are seeking protection for land that thus would be flooded on the east bank when the river rose. NEW DEVICE IS USED TO CHECK ENGINEER Instrument Records Speed, Stops on Run of Locomotive. By Science Service NEW YORK, April 15.—As clocks punched by watchmen indicate that the rounds have been made at the right times, so the tactograph, a new instrument used on railway locomotives, tells whether the engineer properly has driven his iron horse over the run. Did he exceed the safe speed trying to make up time? Were the curves taken too fast? Were delays the fault of the time allowance, roadbed or rolling stock? What was the average speed for the run? These are some of the questions answered by the tell-tale tacto- : graph. The instrument is mounted in the cab of the engine and is geared to ! the axle similar to an automobile speedometer, the American Machinj ist explains. Speed at any time, ! length or stops and slippage are | shown on a record sheet. Tardieu Faces New Crisis Bv United Press PARIS. April 15. —An elastic system of pensions for retired French ; government officials provided Premier Andre Tardieu with another j potential ministerial crisis today, upon his return to domestic politics.

THE SON OF TARZAN

The tree was but a few paces away. A limb hung ten feet from the ground, and as the boy leaped for it the lioness leaped for him. Like a monkey, he pulled himself up and to one side. A great forepaw caught him a glancing blow at the hips—just grazing him. One claw hooked itself into his pajama trousers, ripping them off as the lioness sped by. . . . Half naked the lad drew himself to safety as the beast again leaped for him.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUT OUR WAY

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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SALESMAN SAM

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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Akut, from a nearby tree, jabbered and scolded. The boy threw dead twigs and branches at the upturned face of Sabor, just as his father had done twenty years before when he, too, had taunted and tantalized the great cats of the jungle. The lioness fretted about awhile and finally stalked majestically away into the underbrush. Freed from danger, the boy and Akut came to the ground to take up their interrupted journey once more.

—By Williams

The old ape scolded the boy in the language that was their common heritage. “It is a lesson. If you would live, use your ears and eyes, but most of all your nose after this.” That night the son of Tarzan was colder than he ever had been. The pajama trousers had not been heavy, but they had been heavier than othing. And the next day he roasted in the hot sun. for again their wpty led them across the treeless plains. *

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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By Edg-ar Rice Burroughs

For a month the two wandered on, the boy learning rapidly the laws of the Jungle, his muscles adapting themselves to the’ new mode of life- thrust upon them. He found it came quite naturally to him to swing through the trees. Even at great heights he was never dizzy, and when he had caught the knack of swing and the release he could hurl himself through space from branch to branch with more agility than Akut could.

APRIL 15, 1930

—By Ahem'

—By Blossei;

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Mar