Jasper County Democrat, Volume 22, Number 26, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 June 1919 — GREEN FANCY [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

GREEN FANCY

by GEORGE BARR McCUICHEON

k Author <?/■ "THE V 'HOLLOW OF HER HAND." THE < PRINCE OF GRAUSTARK.” ETC

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SYNOPSIS.

CHAPTER 1-Thoman K. _ Bam* wealthy New Yorker, on a walking, trip through New England, Is caught In a storm miles from his destination. At * crossroads point he meets a girl In the same plight While they discuss the situation an automobile, sent to meet the girl, arrives and Barnes is given a lift to Hart's tavern, while the girl Is taken on to her destination, which she tells Barnes Is a place called Green Fancy. ~ CHAPTER IT—At the tavern ’Barnes falls in with a stranded troupe of "barnstorming" actors, headed by Lyndon Rushcroft, and becomes Interested In them. CHA PT m TH—As the storm grows, Barnes finds himself worrying over the safety of the girl, traveling over the mountain roads at what he considers dangerous speed. He learns tnat Green Fancy Is something of a house of mystery. Two mounted men leave the tavern in a manner which arouses Barnes’ curiosity. CHAMFER TV—He meets “Miss Thackeray," leading lady of the stranded theatrical troupe, who Is acting as chambermaid. That night he is aroused by the bringing of a dying man to the tavern, one of the two who had ridden away a short time before. They tell of finding the dead body of the other man. Both had been shot

CHAPTER V. The Farm-Boy Tells a Story and an Irishman Enters. Barnes stared. “What do you mean?" he demanded sharply. “I mean just what I said. What do you know about this business?" “How should I know anything about It?" “Well, we don’t know who you are, nor what you’re doing up here, nor what your real profession is. That’s why I ask the question." e “I see," said Barnes, after a moment. He grasped the situation and he admitted to - himself that Jones had cause for his suspicions. “It has occurred to you that I may be a detective or a secret service man, isn’t that the case? Well, lam neither, Did you know any more about these two men, Mr. Jones, than you know about me?", “I don’t know anything about ’em." “What was their business?” “Mr. Roon wa» lookin’ for a place to bring his daughter who has consuihptlon. He didn’t want to take her to a reg’lar consumptive community, hb said, an’ so he was lookin’ for_a quiet place where she wouldn’t be associatin’ with lungers all the time. That was his business, Mr. Barnes, an’ I guess you’d call it respectable, wouldn’t you?” “Perfectly. But why should he be troubled Uy my presence here if —’M Miss Thaclfteray put an-*end to the discussion in a most effectual manner. “Oh, for the Lord’s sake, cut it out! Walt till he’s dead, can’t you?” she whispered fiercely. “You’ve got all the time in the world to talk, and he hasn’t more than ten minutes left to breathe unless that rube doctor gets here pretty soon. I think he’s going

now. Keep still, all of you. Is he breathing, Mr. Barnes? That awful cough just now seemed to*—'” Her eyes jvere fixed on the still face. “Why—why, how tightly he holds my hand! I can’t get It away—he must be alive, Mr. Barnes. Where Is that silly doctor?”** Barnes unclasped the' rigid fingers of the man called Andrew Paul, and, shaking his head sadly, drew her away from the improvised bier. He and the shivering Mr. Dilllngford conducted her to the dining room, where •a single kerosene lamp gave out a feeble, rather ghastly’light. “Would you like a little brandy?” inaulred Barnes, as she sat down limp-

ly in the chair he pulled out for her. “I have a flask upstairs in my— ’ l “I never touch it," she said. 'Tm all right. My legs wabble a little but— Sit down Mr. Barnes. I’ve got something to say to you and I’d better say it now, because It may come in pretty handy for you later on. Don’t let those women coipe in here, Dilly. “This afternoon I walked up in the woods back of the tavern to go over some lines in a new piece we are to do later on—God knows when! I could see the hoqge from where I was’ sitting. Roon’s windows were plainly visible. I saw Roon standing at a window looking toward the cross-roads •with a pair of field-glasses. Every once in awhile he would turn to Paul, who stood beside him with a notebook, and say something to him. Paul wrote It down. Then he would look again, turning the glasses this way and that. Suddenly my eyes almost popped out of my head. Paul had gone away from the window. • He came back and he had a couple of revolvers in his hands. They stood there for a few minutes carefully examining the weapons and reloading them with fresh cartridges. Just as I was about to start down to the house —it was a little after six o’clock, and getting awfully dark and overcast —Roon took up the glasses again. He seemed to be excited and called his companion. Paul grabbed the glasses and looked down the road. They both became very much excited, pointing and gesticulating, and taking turn about with, the glasses.” "About six o’clock, you say?" said Barnes, greatly Interested. . “It was a quarter after six when I got back to the house. I spoke to Mr.„ Bacon about what rd seen and he said he believed they were German spies, up to some kind of mischief along the Canadian border. Then about half an hour later you came to the tavern. I saw Roon sneak out to the head of the ktalra and listen to your conversation with Jones when you registered. That gavp mejgn Idea- .It waß Uiey were watching the road for.” Barnes held up his hand for silence. '“Listen," he said In a low voice. “I will tell you who they were looking for.” As briefly as possible he recounted his experience with the strange young woman at the crossroads. “From the beginning I have connected this tragedy with the jllace called Green Fancy. I’ll stake my last penny that they have been hanging around here waiting for the arrival of that young woman. They knew she was coming and they doubtless knew what she was bringing with her. What do you know about Green Fancy?” He was vastly excited. Ills active imagination was creating all sorts of possibilities and.complications, deptedations and Intrigues. Bacon w’as the one who answered. “People live up there and since we’ve been here two or three men visitors have come down from the place to sample our stock of wet goods. I talked with a couple of ’em day before yesterday. They were out for a horseback ride and stopped here for a mug of ale. “Were they foreigners?” Inquired Barnes. “If you want to call an Irishman a foreigner, I’ll have to say one of them was. He had a beautiful brogue. The other was an American, I’m sure. Yesterday they rode bast here with a couple of swell-looking women. I saw them turn up the road to Green Fancy.” The arrival of four or five men, who stamped into the already crowded hallway from the porch outside, claimed the attention of the quartette. Among them was the doctor who, they were soon to discover, was also the coroner of the county. A very officious deputy sheriff was also in the group. Mr. Jones called out from the doorway: “Mr. Barnes, you’re wanted in there.” “All right," he responded. The doctor had been working over the. prostrate form on the tables. As Barnes entered the room, he looked up and declared that the man was dead. “This is Mr. Barnes,” said Putnam Jones, indicating the tall traveler with a short jerk of his thumb. “I am from the sheriff’s office,” said the man who stood beside the doctor. The rest of the crowd evidently had been ordered to stand back from the tables. “Did you ever see this man before?’? “Not until he was carried in here an hour ago." “What’s your business up here, Mr. Barnes?” “I have no business up here. I just, happened to stroll in this evening.” “Well,” said the sheriff darkly, “I guess I’ll have to ask you to stick around here till we clear this business up. We don’t know you an’ —■ Well, •we Can’t take any chances. You un- ' dcrstand, I reckon.”

“I certainly fall to understand. Mr. Sheriff. I know nothing whatever of this affair and I Intend to continue on my way tomorrow morning." , “Well, I gdess not. You got to stay here till we are satisfied thag you don't know anything about thia business. That’s all."

"Am I to consider myself under arrest, sir?" "I wouldn’t go so far ns to say that. You just stick uround here, that's all I got to say. If you're all right, we’ll soon find It out. Whnt’s more. If you nre nil right you’ll be willin' to stay. Do you get tne?" “I certainly do. And I can now assure you, Mr. Sheriff, that I’d like nothing better than to stick around here, ns you put it. I’d like to help clear this matter up. In the meantime, you may readily find out who I am and why I am here by telegraphing to the mayor of New York city. This document, which experience has taught me to carry for just such an emergency as this, mny hnve some weight with you." He opened his bill folder and drew forth a neatly creased sheet of paper. "Read It, please, and note the date, the signature, the official seal of the New York police department, and also the rather Interesting silver print pasted in the lower left hand corner. I think you will agree that It Is a good likeness of me. Each year I take the precaution of having myself certified by the police department at home before venturing into unknown and perhaps unfriendly communities.” “Yes,” said the sheriff dubiously; “but how do I know It ain’t a forgery?" “You don’t know, of course. But in case it shouldn’t be forgery and I am subjected to the indignity of arrest or even detention, you would have a nasty time defending yourself in a civil suit for damages. I shall remain here, as you suggest, but only for the purpose of aiding you In getting to the bottom of this affair.". Standing on Jim Conley’s front porch a little after sunrise, Barnes made the following declaration: “Everything goes to show that these men were up here for one of two reasons. They were either trying t<< prevent or to enact a crime. The latter Is my belief. They were afraid of me. Why? Because they believed I was trailing them and likely to spoil their gome. Gentlemen, those fellows were here for the purpose of robbing the place you call Green Fancy." “What’s that?” came a rich, mellow voice from the outskirts of the crowd. A man pushed bls way through and confronted Barnes. He was a tall, good-looking fellow of thirty-five, and It was apparent that he had dressed in haste. “My name Is O’Dowd, and I am a guest of Mr. Curtis at Green Fancy. Why do you think they meant to rob his place?” “Well,” began Barnes dryly, "It would seem that his place is the only one in the neighborhood that would, bear robbing. My name is Barnes. Of concpe, Mr. O'Dowd, It Is mere speculation on my part.” “But who shot the man?” demanded the Irishman. "He certainly wasn't winged by anyone from our place. Why, Lord love you, sir, there Isn’t a soul at Green Fancy who could shoot a thief if he saw one. This is Mr. De Soto, also a guest at Green Fancy. He will, I-think, bear me out in upsetting your theory.” A second man approached, shaking his head vigorously. He was a thin, pale man with a singularly scholastic face. Quite an unprepossessing, unsangulnary person, thought Barnes. “Mr. Curtis’ chauffeur, I think it was, said the killing occurred just above this house,” said he, visibly excited. “Green Fancy Is at least a mile from here, isn’t it? You don’t shoot burglars a mile from the place they are planning to rob, do you?” “I’ll admit it’s a bit out of reason," snid Barnes. “The second man could only have been shot by some one who was lying In wait for him.” “Bedad,” said O’Dowd, “it beats the devil. There’s something big In this thing, Mr. Barnes —something a long shot bigger than any of us stispects.” “You’ll find that It resolves itself into a problem for Washington to solve,” said De Soto darkly. “Nothing local about It, take my word for It. These men were up to some International devilment. There’ll be a stir In Washington over this, sure as anything.” '• “Whht time was it that you heard the shots up at Green Fancy?” ventured Barnes. “Lord love you.” cried O’Dowd, “w 1 ©

didn’t hear a sound. Mr. Curtis, who has insomnia the worst way. poor devil, heard them and sent some one out to see what all the racket was about. The man. It seems, made such a devil of a racket when he came home with the news that the whole house was up in pajamas and peignoirs.” “I think I have a slight acquaintance with the chauffeur.” said Barnes. “He gave me the most thrilling motor ride I*ve ever experienced. Gad, I’ll never forget it" The two men looked at him, plainly perplexed. “When was all this?” inquired De Soto. "Early last evening. He picked up your latest guest at the corners, and she insisted in his driving me to the tavern before the storm broke. I’ve

been terribly anxious about her. She must have been caught out In all that frightful—" “What’s this you are saying, Mr. Barnes?” cut In De Soto, frowning. “No guest arrived at Green Fancy last evening, nor was one expected." Barnes stared. “Do you mean to say that she didn’t get there; after all?” “She? A woman, was It?" demanded O’Dowd. “Bedad, If she said she was coming to Green Fancy she was spoofing you. Are you sure ft was old Peter who gave you that Jolly ride?” “No, I gm not sure,” said Barnes uneasily. “She was afoot, having walked from the station below. I met her at the corners and she asked me If I knew how far it was to Green Fancy, or something like that. Said she was going there. Then along came the automobile, rattling' down this very road —an ancient Panhard driven by an old codger. She seemed to think It was all right to hop in and trust herself to him, although she’d never seen him before.” “The antique Panhard fits in all right,” said O’Dowd, "but I’m hanged if the woiflan fits at all. No such person arrived at Green Fancy last night. ’ “J)ld you get a square look at the driver’s face?” demanded De Soto. “It was almost too dark to see, but he was old, hatchet-faced, and spoke with an accent.” “Then it couldn’t have been Peter, said De Soto positively. “He’s old, right enough, but he is as big as the side of a house, with a face like a full moon, and he Is Yankee to his toes. By gad, Barnes, the plot thickens 1 A woman has been added to the mystery. Now, who the devil Is she and what has become of her?" • (TO BE CONTINUED.)

“I Think He’s Going Now,” She Whispered.

“Bedad," Said O'Dowd, "It Beats the Devil."