Jasper County Democrat, Volume 23, Number 30, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 July 1920 — THE MAN WHO WASN'T HIMSELF [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE MAN WHO WASN'T HIMSELF

By ROBERT AMES BENNET

chapman. II

SYNOPSIS. CHAPTER I.—Alighting irom a train at Denver a well-dressed traveler in familiarly accosted by a man about his own age. The traveler ignores the advance. A few minutes later he is greeted as “Will” by an elderly lady and gentleman, who stop their auto to speak. He imagines it a case of mistaken Identity and announces himself as Clinton," on his way to the coast. The couple appear greatly surprised, and learning he Is to be in town untilmidnight, the lady, Introducing herself as Mrs. Kirkland, and her husband as Doctor Kirkland, invites him to dinner, explaining the action by his truly remarkable resemblance to a triend of theirs. He accepts. At the Kirkland home he meets a young lady who greets him as her fiance. She is Ellen Kirkland, and plainly is greatly hurt by his assertion that he is "Richard Clniton." CHAPTER 11. —At dinner “Clinton" learns that his host is a medical specialist and that he is believed to be Will Lowrie, a young man who had been suffering from a nervous breakdown and had gone east for medical treatment. Lowrie had had in his possession bonds of the Value of SIOO,OOO, belonging to the bank Where he was employed, which have disappeared and of which he has no recollection. . With Dr. Kirkland “Clinton" Soes to the Lowrie home, the doctor beig satisfied that Amy Lowrie, Will’s sister, will convince “Clinton” he Is really Lowrie, suffering from loss of memory. CHAPTER lll.—Amy declares at once he is her brother, and insists on treating him as such, to his great embarrassment. CHAPTER TV.—Doctor Kirkland arranges to send a telegram to the sanitarium where Lowrie is undergoing treatment, inquiring as to his whereahputs. I CHAPTER VI. Propinquity. When the bland vice president bowed Clinton out the latter’s draft had been cashed. Bemm introduced the first assistant cashier, who, smiling curiously at Clinton, handed him his'money. The owner thrust the packpt of bills into his wallet and declined an invitation to be seated. “Time to go, eh, what?” said Bemm. “Needn’t remind me. You’re not the only one made hungry by patching these laboring slaves of Mammon. We’ll stroll up to the club for a bite of lunch.” “The club?” Inquired Clinton. “To be sure —the club. That’s one on you, old man. It’s rich taking you as a guest to one of your own clubs. »Come and be Introduced to some of your fellow members.” Clinton responded with the quizzical look that indicated a decided streak of waggery in his present personality: “All right. I’m with you.” The answer put Bemm into the best of>umor. His geniality became rather forced, however, when at luncheon Clinton not only refused wine but persisted in talking on impersonal topics. This last may have been due either to the reticence of good breeding or to a consciousness of guilt, or to an antipathy toward Bemm. When they left the club Bemm suggested that they stroll over to the Athletic club. They entered the dressing room, where Bemm signed to the attendant in charge. “Open Mr. Lowrie’s locker, will you, Jones? He has forgotten his key.” “Lowrie?” muttered Clinton. “Saves an awkward explanation, yTmow,” replied Bemm. “You’ll need only the shoes; but it’s as well for you to stow your coat and hat In the locker they think is yours.” A few minutes later the two, stripped to their sleeveless undershirts, were facing each other in one of the boxing rooms. The instructor, who had greeted Clinton as “Mr. Lowrie,” was even quicker than had been Bemm to note his splendid muscular development. Bemm paused a moment after Clinton took position. The latter edged closer to him. Bemm dropped his bands. “Wait!” he said sharply. ‘That mark on your arm.” Clinton twisted the arm around. "What do you mean? I see no mark.* “Nor do I. That’s Just It,” rejoined Bemm. “It’s not there now. You know, Red —the brownish blotch — birthmark.” “Sure,” agreed the instructor, staring curiously. “Have you been to a beauty doc, Mr. Lowrie?” Clinton looked at the two with a quizzical smile. “You say I used to have a birthmark on my arm?” “Size of a dollar, on the outside, ‘three inches below the elbow,” concisely stated Bemm. “And now it is not there,” remarked Clinton. He held the arm out to the Instructor. I “That’s a slick job, Mr. Lowrie,” the *--10 commented. “No scar; no sign Awas ever there. How’d you do it?” the first time since midafter■p/on the shadow of doubt in Clinton’s eyes gave place to a twinkle. “It’s a process not yet fully understood,” he answered. “In a few days, however, I may be able to explain it.” “A very few days, I added Bernd. He put up his hands in response to Clinton’s resumption of boxing position. and they began a lively round of

sparring. He started a trifle slow, as if his thoughts were not entirely cen tered on the contest. This was succeeded with a burst of speed that would have disconcerted even some professional boxers. Clinton met it with a cool ring generalship that frequently put his more agile adversary at a disadvantage. At the end of the round, provoked that he had come out second best, Bemm called for another. Clinton shook his head. “I am warm enough already,” he said. “Very well,” assented Bemm. “We’ll call it off for this time. How about a swim?” “Just a shower,” said Clinton. “I wish to go out and learn if Doctor Kirkland has heard.” X Bemm nodded and took his companion back to the dressing room, where they shifted into bathrobes. Clinton was first ready, and Bemm waved the attendant to take his towels in to the shower bath. “Go ahead, old man,” he said to Clinton. “I’ll be along in half a minute.” Clinton followed the attendant. The door closed behind him. Bemm was alone in the dressing rom. The Lowrie locker was next to his own. With a calculated swiftness that lost no Instant in unnecessary movements he opened the locker and began search-

ing the pockets of his companion’s suit. Everything that he drew out he examined with quick but minute scrutiny and then carefully replaced it. There was one exception. Almost the last article that he found was A key such as is used for safe deposit boxes. This he did not replace in the deep Inside pocket of the waistcoat from which he had taken It. After a single keen glance he thrust it into one of his bwn pockets, closed both lockers, and hastened to the shower-bath room. The companions returned to the dressing room together, but Bemm was the first dressed. “Soryy, old man,” he said. “I have an engagement that I cannot break. You might kijl time in the smoking room. I’ll come back in my car and take you up home.” Clinton hunted up the nearest telephone booth and called the Kirkland residence. Mrs. Kirkland responded In a tone that rendered n'eedless her statement that she was delighted to be talking With him. “You dear boy!” she cooed. “It’s like your own real self to be so thoughtful, calling me up.” «Has that telegram—?” he asked. “Not yet. When my husband left his office he ordered it delivered at your house? We dine with you and Amy this evening, so—” “I regret that I —am not quite ready hesitated Clinton. “May I ask— You see, on account of Miss Kirkland, I would rather wait until —” “Wait? The telegram may not come until dinner time. Surely you’ll be home to dine?” “Well —I am not quite —” “Toil will not fail us?” “Very well; ydu may count on me. Good-by.” Hastily he hung up the receiver. I Less than ten minutes later a taxicab brought him to the Lowrie house. As old Tillie opened the 'door she peered up the street and grunted with satisfaction: “Huh! You’re all getting home.all right, Mr. Will. There comes Miss Amy with Miss Ellen.” He Jumped past her . into the halt “Don’t tell them —that is, say Fm in Mr.— in my room, very busy.”.

•tTs shaving set lay before him on the dresser. He looked from it to the carefully arranged evening clothes. The collar, tie, studs and links bad all come from his suitcase. His forehead gathered in a puzzled frown. “It certainly was locked,” he murmured. As he entered tlye parlor Tillie announced dinner. Ellen looked at him in tefider expectation. He Hushed, glanced at Amy, hesitated and stepped across to offer his arm to Mrs. Kirkland. “Since all of you Insist that I am Ihe host. I shall do my duty as such,” he smilingly remarked. “Prim, prudent and precise," mocked Amy, and she transferred her hand from Bemm’s arm to Doctor Kirkland’s. “We stand corrected! Chawles, you may take in Miss Kirkland.” Clinton avoided Ellen’s pitiful gaze. “The telegram has not yet come?” he asked the girl’s . “Not yet. ... We expect it any minute.” “Should have come hours ago,” added the physician. r “They’re such slow pokes!” complained Amy. Ellen sighed audibly. Even Bemm looked grave. The suspense of waiting for the delayed telegram was making every member of the party uneasy. Bemm may have had additional causes of worriment, for his gravity deepened almost into moroseness. Old Tillie, still red-faced from her culinary operations but neat and fresh as any young housemaid, brought in her last course. As she entered; the tl.ngle of the electric bell rang sharply through the open doorway. “Land sakes! and me with my hands 4 full!” she muttered. “I’ll go!” cried Amy. “It must be the telegram.” Impetuously she rose and flew Into the front hall. In a few moments she came darting back, calling over her shoulder: “Hurry, please! please hurry!” A blase messenger boy, with enp cocked over one ear, appeared in the dining room doorway. Amy waved him to the physician. “This way! This is Doctor Kirkland.” Doctor Kirkland handed the receipt book to the boy and caught up the telegram. He tore open the envelope and read the message. A frown creased his usually smooth forehead. “O-o-oh, papa!” sighed Ellen. “Bad news!” “H’m,” he cleared his throat, “Listen. Th s is the answer to my inquiry: ‘Regret superintendent away. On return he will wire full particulars.’", (TO BE CONTINUED.)

Began Searching the Pockets of His Companion’s Suit.