Jasper County Democrat, Volume 8, Number 43, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 January 1906 — The Yellow Holly [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Yellow Holly

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. CHAPTER I—George Urendoti, a young Londoner, visit* hl« friend. Leonard Train, who has lodgings in the boarding house kept by Mrs. Jersey. Among the boarders Is an elderly maiden lady. Miss Bull. Mrs. Jersey is stat tied by a piece of yellow holly worn by George. ll—George, whose reel name is Vane, tells Train the story of his life. He is an orphan and the grandson of Lord Herrington, but the latter refuses to recognize the marriage of George’s father (Lord Herrington's son), who had eloped. Brandon desires to establish his position as Lord Herrington’s heir In order to marry Dorothy Ward. The place of marriage of George’s parents is known only to Mrs. Jersey, formerly maid to George’s mother. His mother died at his birth, and his father had been murdered in Ban Remo, Italy, years before. Ill—ln the night Mrs. Jersey Is killed with a stllleto by an unknown person. IV—Miss Bull takes charge of the house In behulf of Margery, ueloe of the murdered woman. The house has been leased from Lord Derrihgton. V—Mrs. Ward, a heartless society woman, mother of Dorothy, is opposed to Dorothy's marriage to Brendon. The yellow holly had been given to Dorothy by her mother aud by the girl to George. Vl—Mr. Ireland, George's former guardian, tells him of his mother’s marriage and death and his father's murder. The latter was killed after leaving a masked bail in company with a w r oman--a blue domino—who wore a sprig of yellow holly. VII— George, seeking a confession known to have been left by Mrs. Jersey, visits Miss Hull and learns that the dead woman received an annuity from Lord Herrington. George saves a Mr. Bawdsey from death and learns that the latter lives in the Jersey house. Vlll—Lola Velez, adancer. is in love with George and is loved by Bawdsey. Lola's parents lived in Ban Remo at the time of the murder of Hreudou's father.

“Ah, now I remember, Mr. Brendon. Quite so. It was that Amelia square murder.” “You have a good memory, Lord Derrlngton.” “In this case you flatter me, Mr. Brendon. There Is no difficulty in ray remembering the especial case, as Mrs. Jersey was a tenant of mine.” George was not supposed to know this and displayed suitable surprise. “Indeed,” he said; “then you have lost a good tenant.” “Possibly,” replied Derrlngton, rather grimly. “She always paid her rent regularly. You saw her?” “Yes. My friend, Mr. Train, was stopping in the house”— “That young man.” Derrlngton cast a look in Leonard's direction. “I did not know he was there on that night" “He was a witness also,” said Brendon significantly. “I can’t remember all the names, sir. Well?” “I stopped for the night with Mr. Train and during the night Mrs. Jersey was murdered.” “You heard nothing—saw nothing?” “I was sound usleep the whole time,”

said Brendon calmly. “Humph!” Derrington pulled at his gray mustache lu the very same way as George did when he was reflective. “What a pity. You might have discovered the assassiu.” “I don't think the assassin will ever be discovered.” “That’s lucky for the assassin,” rejoined the old lord cynically. “You appear to be very certain, Mr. Brendon.” George shrugged his shoulders. “No more certain than the police are,” he replied. “They examined every one in the house. and no one could be accused —there was absolutely no evidence.” Derrington for some reason appeared to be rather relieved. “I read all that lu the papers,” he said roughly. “You are telling me nothing new. But there, you didn't say you would. By the way, do you kuow a Miss Bull?" George nodded. “She told my fortune,” he said. “She told Mrs. Jersey’s fortune also, and a very true fortune did she tell," said Derrington grimly. “What did she prophesy about you?” “There were trouble and enemies and the promise that I should get my wish,” said Brendon, with a quick look. Derrington laughed. “What is your wish ?” “If I tell it I won’t get it," replied George, also laughing, “but I dou't believe in fortune telling. It Is rubbish.” “It wasn’t In Mrs. Jersey’s cuse,” said the other, who appeared to be a trifle superstitious. “Oh, that was a mere coincidWice. But you asked me about Miss Bull, sir. Do you know her?” Derrington nodded. “She came to me on behalf of Mrs. Jersey's niece and wished the lease renewed. I heard her story and consented. I dure say the niece will be quite ns good a tenant as the auut." This conversation was all very well, but there was nothing to be learned from it on either side. Brendon could not discover if his grandfather kuew to whom he wus speaking, and Derrington found it impossible to learn if George could tell him anything of the case which had not been reported in the papers. For some reason Derrington wished to know what had transpired, and Brendon felt convinced that this anxiety was more than that of a landlord for the loss of a good tenant. He wondered if Derrington knew that Mrs. Jersey had written out a confesllon and that it was missing. He would have liked to find out, but since jke could not reveal himself as Derrlngton’s grandson there was no chance of getting this Information. Besides, Derrington appeared to grow weary of discussing the murder. “It is worn threadbare,” he said. “All the papers have been talking about it I agree with you, Mr. Brendon, that the assassin will never be discovered. However, there are pleasanter subjects to talk of. What about yourself—jpur aims,, your, ambitions, your

By FERGUS HUME,

Author of “The Mystary of a Hansom Cab, M Etc. A A

chances of success?” “Are those pleasant subjects?" laughed Brendon. “To an old tnan such as I am,” nodded the other. “I like to hear of the castles in the air which youth builds.” “I am afraid my castles will never turn to bricks and mortar,” said Brendon, with a sigh. However, he was not averse to showing his grandfather that he was no fool, but a man with a head on his shoulders. George had a quick brain and a strong will and a considerable fund of Information. He had taken a good degree at Oxford, and his literary articles always received praise from the public and from his brethren of the press. Moreover, George was fond of politics and could converse excellently on that fascinating subject. He laid himself out to please Derrlngton, knowing that the old tyrant was disappointed In the languid Vane, who was chattering commonplace to Mrs. Ward. In a short time Brendon and Derrlngton were engaged In a discussion about Ireland and Irish home rule. “You ought to be In the house, Mr. Brendon,” said the old lord. “I have no one to help me to such a goal.” Derrlngton was about to speak and i fastened his little eyes on the keen, . handsome face of the younger man, but he suddenly changed his mind and turned away to talk to Mrs. Ward. Brendon knew that he had succeeded in pleasing the old gentleman and was glad that so much was accomplished. If Derrlngton found that he was clever and presentable and likely to add luster to the family name It was not Improbable thutr be would recognize the marriage. But by this time George had it In his mind that Derrlugtou knew who he was and had been talking advisedly under the cover of pretended ignorance so as to see what manner of man Ills unacknowledged grandson was. “Well,” thought Brendon, “he has learned that I am no fool, at all events.” Mrs. Ward came across to George and left Derrlngton talking to Dorothy, for whom he professed a great admiration. He knew that Dorothy liked Brendon, as Mrs. Ward had told him so, and he frankly acknowledged to her that Brendon was a clever man. “I wish my grandson had his brains,” said Derrlngton regretfully. “Do you like Brendon?” Dorothy did not see why she should conceal her feelings. “I love him,” she said quietly and firmly. “Ha!” replied Derrlngton, showing no surprise. “Mrs. Wurd hinted ut something of that sort, but I thought that Walter”— "Please say no more, Lord Derrlngton." “Well, then, I won’t” Derrlngton's eyes rested wnithfully on the withered young man he called grandson. “I don't wonder at your choice, my dear. What Walter requires is a nurse.” “That Is a profession I have not taken up,” said Dorothy, laughing. Derrington said no more about Brendon,

but Dorothy noticed that his eyes were rarely off the face of her lover. Meantime Vane Joined Mrs. Ward, and Dorothy, seeing that Leonard was alone, beckoned him to npproach. Derrington was not particularly pleased at having his conversation with a pretty girl interrupted, but he was polite, and, on learning that Train knew Brendon intimately, he began to ask him about his friend. “But really, you know, slie is a great artist,” Mrs. Ward was saying to Brendon. "There is something so original about herT’ They were speaking of Lola Velez, and it was Vane who had introduced the subject. George, to whom the subject was distasteful, tried to avoid the discussion, but Mrs. Ward would return again and again to the topic. “They say you know her very well,” she declared. "I am not sorry to put you right on that point,” replied Brendon, his eyes hardening. “Many false rumors are about, to one of which you alluded the other day, Mrs. Ward. This is another. What I know of Sencra Velez and how 1 know her enn be put iu a nutshell.” And George quietly related bis rescue of the dancer. “Then you did make her the success she is?” cried Mrs. Ward when he ended. “Oh, yes, it's no use denying it. You picked a Jewel out of the gutter and gave it a chance of shining.” “Petliups 1 did that much. But she made a success by her genius.” “I hope she is grateful," murmured Vane, with a malicious smile. Brendon turned on him sharply. “1 don’t know what you mean by gratitude,” be said deliberately. “Well,” drawled the little dandy, “she is pretty and”— “She is not at all pretty, Mr. Vane, and were she as lovely as Cleopatra it would not matter to me. My connection with her ceased when she made her success.” George quite forgot the presence of Mrs. Ward and spoke vehemently. “Can’t you understand that a man may do a kind action without being biased by the beauty of a woman?” “Some men can,” said Mrs. Ward politely, “and I am sure you are one, Mr. Brendon. But suppose the woman”— “J don’t suppose anything. Mrs. -S'* , 4

Ward. I know. Senora Velez was poor. I helped her to attain to the position she now holds because I endeavor to follow the preaching of Christ, and she is to me a grateful friend. There Is no more and no less to be said,” and, a trifle ruffled, George turned on his heel to Join Dorothy. “Well, I’m sure,” murmured Mrs. Ward, “and in my own house too!” Vane sniggered. “There must be something in It,” he said. “She’s too pretty.” So these two scandal mongers talked on, and George had only made matters worse by his explanation. However, he believed that he had nipped the scandal In the bud, and strolled into the next room with Dorothy to quiet his mind. Behind them they left Derrlngton’talking to Train and rather enjoying himself. “Do you think Lord Derrlngton knows who you are?” asked Dorothy as she and George seated themselves on a divan. “I am not sure,” replied George, who did not want to tell her what he knew lest he should have to Introduce the name of Lola Velez. “I have an idea that he does.” Dorothy shook her head. “I don’t think so. If he knows you h« must be aware that you know him, and about the relationship, and would not speak so freely. I think he Is token with you. George.” “Well, he has been putting me through my paces. I only hope that our chance meeting of tonight may bear fruit. What Is Train doing here? Your mother only had him in her house once befoUo, and she does not like him.”

“I can’t make out why she asked him,” said Dorothy. “He Is a dull young man, though harmless enough. But my mother made a point of asking him to dinner.” “Humph! I wonder what that’s for,” said Brendon, wrinkling his brows, for he knew well that Mrs. Ward did nothing without expecting an equivalent return. Then he recollected her questions about the crime and wondered if she had invited Leonard so as to pump him. And that is what she was doing at the very moment. Almost as soon as the lovers had disappeared Into the yellow boudoir Lord Derrlngton had taken his departure. He insisted that Vane should accompany him home, and they left together. This was an excellent opportunity to find out what Mrs. Ward wanted to know. Taking Leonard’s arm, she led him to a chair some distance from the door of the boudoir. “Now let us have a nice long talk, dear Mr. Train,” she said. “We can renew our pleasant conversation.” "I don’t think it was very pleasant,” said Train unwillingly. “What an ungallant thing to say!” “I mean to talk about crime”— “Is most amusing—l mean lilstructive. Oh, yes. I have read many of those novels—what do they cull them? —detective novels. I have often thought how nice it would be if one could really try to find out who killed u person. Now, In this case, Mr. Train. I am sure you heard something or saw something”— “Upon my word, I neither saw nor heard,” protested Leonard. “I was in bed all the time.”

“But you must have heard the fall of the body or the shutting of the door as the—ah!” Mrs. Ward saw from the expression of Leonard’s face that she had touched upon something. "You did hear”— “No, no!” he stammered, wondering how he was to get out of confessing about the opening of the front door without appearing rude. “Nonsense! Confess! Confess, you silly man!” But Leonard was too loyal. To lead her away from the point he asked a question. “Mrs. Ward, that yellow holly?” “Yes. What about it?” She leaned forward eagerly. “Did you give a sprig of it to any one else?” “No. I only gave a bit to my daughter, and she”— “She gave it to Brendon. Yes, I know. But did Miss Ward give any of it to a third person ?’’ “Certainly not. To do so she would have had to get it from me. But be-

"You arc accusing Mr. Brendon." yon d the sprig which was given, and which Mr. Brendon had, no holly went out of this house.” “It Is very rare, is It not?” “I believe bo. I dare say there wasn’t another bnneb In London on that particular night Of course there might have been; still—but why do yon ask all this?” "Well,” aald Leonard, “It Beems to me that the yellow holly has something to do with the crime.” Mrs. Ward drew a long breath, but fajd no word. He was speaking half

to himself, and she did floT wIiSTo Interrupt bis train of thought But she listened with all her ears- Leonard continued: “I found a berry in the room where she Was killed- Yes. They took us in to see the body, and a horrid Bight It was. I turned my eyes to the floor, and there I saw—Just by the table—a kind of amber bead. I dropped my handkerchief so that Quex might not suspect and I picked It up. When in my own room I examined It It was one of the yellow holly berries.” Mrs. Ward threw herself back with a kind of unholy triumph. “Do you know what you are saying, Mr. Train?” she said In a half whisper. “You are accusing Mr. Brendon”— “No, no!” Train started to his feet Mrs. Ward polled him down again and pointed with her fan toward the boudoir. “Hush! He might come out,” she whispered. “But can’t you see? Brendon were the sprig in his coat on that night He must have been in the room and have dropped the berry. What was he doing there If it was not to”— “No,” said Train hoarsely. “I half thought of that myself, but It Is quite impossible, I tell you. He could not have got out of his room unless he hod come to me.”

“How do you mean?” “I locked the door of the sitting room, which was between his bedroom and mine. There was no exit from his bedroom, and to get out and down the stair he would have had to open the sitting room door. Now, the key was under my pillow, and the door was locked in the morning. No, Mrs. Ward, Brendon is Innocent.” “He might have stolen the key while you slept." Train shook his head. “Impossible. I sleep very lightly, aud on that night I hardly slept at all.” “Why? Was anything wrong?” “I can’t tell you that, Mrs. Ward, without violating the confidence of my friend. Indeed, I have said too much. Promise me you will not speak of what I have told you.” “I prodMse, but I am quite sure that the holly berry was dropped by George Brendon and that he was in Mrs. Jersey’s sitting room on that night He is the criminal.” “i tell you he is not, Mrs. Ward.” “Don’t excite yourself, Mr. Train. Here are Mr. Brendon and Dorothy.” She sailed toward them with open hands. “Finished your talk? We must say good night” And to herself she murmured, while smiling, “I’ve got you at last—l’ve got you at last!” And Brendon shook hands with Madame Judas, quite unconscious of her premeditated treachery. [TO BE CONTINUED-!