The Syracuse Journal, Volume 7, Number 8, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 18 June 1914 — Page 4

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TInlE faE OF dJEME IBIWE By MARY ROBERTS RINEHART Copyright. 1913, by the Bobbs- Merrill Company F tried - to~say tfiat~i~woul<in’t have him, but the old habit of the ward asserted itself. From taking a bottle of beer or a slice of pie to telling one where one might or might not live the police were autocrats in that neighbor — M Isl Lu/ j bXhIIIbI I mv/Hn Q - 1 II t 111 nffl nBl # •ISI ; <» "Look anything like this?” he asked. I hood, and, respectable woman that I j am, my neighbors’ • fears of the front office have infected me. “All right, Mr. Graves,” I said. He pushed the parloi - door open and looked in, whistling. “This is the ' place, isn’t it?” “Yes. But it was upstairs that he”— “I see. Tall woman, Mrs. Ladley?” “Tall and blond. Very airy in her manner.” He nodded and stood looking in and whistling. “Never heard her speak of I a town named Horner, did you?” I “Horner? No.” I “1 see.” He turned and wandered * out again into the hall, still whistling I At the door, however, he stopped and I turned. “Look anything like this?” he I asked and held out one of his hands I with a small kodak picture on the I palm. It was a snapshot of a children’s I *rolic in a village street, with som< I nlookers in the background. Aroum ■ one of the heads had been drawn a cirI cle in pencil. I took it to the gas jet I and looked at it closely. It was a tall I woman with a hat on, not unlike Jen- * nie Brice. She was looking over the crowd, and 1 could see only her face. . and that in shadow. 1 shook my head. “I thought not,” he said. “We have I a lot of stage pictures of her, but. what ► with false hair and their being re- | touched beyond recognition, they don’t I amount to much.” He started out and stopped on the doorstep to light if cigar. “Take him in if he comes,” he said. “And keep your eyes open. Feed him well and he won’t kill you!” I had plenty to think of when I was copking Mr. Reynolds’ supper—the chbnce that I might have Mr. Ladley again and the woman at Horner. For it had come to me like a flash as Mr. Graves left that the “Horn—” on the paper slip might have been “Horner.” «•*•••• After all, there was nothing sensational about Mr. Ladley’s return. He came at 8 o’clock that night, fresh shaved and with his hair cut, and, although he had a latchkey, he rang the doorbell. I knew his ring, and 1 thought it no harm to carry an old razor of Mr. Pitman's with the blade open and folded back on the handle, the way the colored people use them, in my left hand. But I saw at once that he meant no mischief. “Good evening,” he said, and put out his hand. I jumped back until 1 saw there was nothing in it and that he only meant to shake hands. t I didn’t [ do it I might have to take him in and make his bed and cook his meals, > but I did not have to shake hands with him. 1 “You, too!” he said, looking at me I with what I suppose he meant to be a • reproachful look. But he could no I more put an expression of that sort 1 in his eyes than a fish could. “I suppose, then, there is no use asking if I - may have my old. room—the front room. I won’t need two.” I didn’t want him. and he must have seen it But I took him. “You may n have it, as far as I’m -concerned,” I II said. “Bnt you’ll have to let the pa--11 per hanger in tomorrow." q “Assuredly.” He came into the hall U and stood, looking around him, and I _ fancied he drew a breath of relief. “It isn’t much yet” he said, “but it’s bet- * ter to look at than six feet of muddy | water?’ i “Or than stone walls," I said. | He looked at me and smiled. “Or j than stone walls,” he repeated, bowt ing, and went into his room. | So I had him again, and if I gave S him only the dull, knives and locked 9 up the breadknife the moment I had finished _with it whb <Sdi blamh .mb?

I took' all the precSuflonTT could think of—had Terry put an extra bolt on every door and hid the rat poison and the carbolic acid in the cellar. Peter would not go near him. He hobbled around on bls three legs, with the splint beating a sort of tattoo on the floor, but he stayed back in the kitchen with me or in the yard. It was Sunday night or early Monday morning that Jennie Brice disappeared. On Thursday evening her husband came back. On Friday the body of a woman was washed ashore at Beaver, but turned out to be .that of a stewardess who had fallen overboard from one of the Cincinnati packets. Mr. Ladley himself showed me the article in the morning paper when I took in his breakfast “Public hysteria has killed a man before this.” he said when I had read it “Suppose that woman had been mangled or the screw of the steamer had cut her head off! How many people do you suppose would have been willing to swear that it was my—was Mrs. Ladley?” “Even without a head I should know Mrs. Ladley,” I retorted. He shrugged his shoulders. “Let’s trust she’s still alive, for my sake.” he said. “But I’m glad, anyhow, that this woman had a head. You’ll allow me to be glad, won’t you?” “You can be anything you want as far as I’m concerned,” I snapped and went out Mr. Holcombe still retained the second story front room. I think, although he said nothing more about it. that he was still “playing horse.” He wrote a good bit at the washstand, and, from the loose sheets of manuscript he left. I believe actually tried to begin a >lay. But mostly he wandered along the water front or stood on one or another of the bridges, looking at the water and thinking. It is certain that he tried to keep in the part by smoking cigarettes, but he hated them, and usually ended by throwing the cigarette away and lighting an old pipe he carried. On that Thursday evening he came home and sat down to supper with Mr. Reynolds. He ate little and seemed much excited. The talk ran on crime, as it always did when he was around, and Mr. Holcombe quoted Spencer a great deal—Herbert Spencer. Mr. Reynolds was impressed, not knowing much beyond silks and the National league. “Spencer,” Mr. Holcombe would say —“Spencer shows that every occurrence is we inevitable result of what has gone before and carries in its train an equally inevitable series of results. Try to Interrupt this chain in the smallest degree and what follows? Chaos, my dear sir, chaos.” “We see that at the store,” Mr. Reynolds would say. “Accustom a lot of women to a silk sale on Fridays and then make it tooth brushes. That’s chaos, all right” Well. Mr. Holcombe came in that night about 10 o’clock, and I told him Ladley was back. He was almost wild with excitement, wanted to have the back parlor, so he could watch him through the keyhole, and was terribly upset when I told him there was no keyhole, that the door fastened with a thumb bolt Qn- learning that the room was to be pfipered the next morning he grew calmer, however, and got the paperhanger’s address from me. He went out just after that Friday, as I say, was very quiet Mr. Ladley moved to the back parlor to let the paperhanger in the front room, smoked and fussed with his papers all day, and Mr. Holcomt>e stayed in his room, which was unusual. In the afternoon Molly Maguire put on the striped fur coat and went out, going slowly past the house so that I would be sure to see her. Beyond banging the window down, I gave her no satisfaction. At 4 o’clock Mr. Holcombe came to my kitchen, rubbing his hands together. He had a pasteboard tube in bis hand about a foot long, with an arrangement of small mirrors in it He said it was modeled after the something or other that is’used on a submarine, and that he and the paperhanger had fixed a place for it between his floor and the ceiling of Mr. Ladley’s room, so that the chandelier would hide it from below. He thought he could watch Mr. Ladley through it, and as it turned out he could. “I want to find bis weak moment,” he said excitedly. “1 want to know what he does when the door is closed and he can take off his mask. And I want to know if he sleeps with a light.” “If he does,” I replied, “I hope you’ll let me know, Mr. Holcombe. The gas bills are a horror to me as it is. 1 think he kept it on all last night 1 turned off aH the other lights and went to the cellar. The meter was going around.” “Fine!” he said. “Every murderer fears the dark, and pur friend of the parlor bedroom is a murderer, Mrs. Pitman. Whether he hangs or not he’s a murderer." The mirror affair, which Mr. Holcombe called a periscope, was put in that day and worked amazingly well. 1 went with him to try it out. and 1 distinctly saw the paperhanger take a cigarette from Mr. Ladley’s case and put it in his pocket Just after that Mr. Ladley sauntered into the room and looked at the new paper. I could both see and hear him. It was rather weird. “Gee, what a wall paper!” he said. CHAPTER VIT. r IHAT was Friday afternoon. [ 1 | All that evening and most of Saturday and Sunday Mr. [SeJOJ Holcombe sat on the floor with his eye to the reflecting mirror and his notebook beside him. 1 have it before me. On the first page is the “dog meat—s 2” entry. On the next, the description of what occurred on Sunday night, ' March 4, and Monday morning, the sth. Following that came a sketch, made with a carbon sheet of the torn paper found behind the washstand: —ls you can’t find the wall-paper you want in' our stock, vou can i select it from our large sample books. Quick delivery. Quality I Drug Stote. J. ! -

And then came the entries for Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Friday evening: 6:30— Eating hearty supper. 7— Lights cigarette and paces floor. Notice that when Mrs. P. knocks he goes to desk and pretends to be writing. 8— Is examining book. Looks like a railway guide. 8:30—It is a steamship guide. B:4s—Tailor’s boy brings box. Gives boy 50 cents. Query; Where does he get money now that J. B. is gone? 9— Tries on new suit (brown). 9:3o—Has been spending a quarter of an hour on his knees looking behind furniture and examining baseboard. 10— He has the key to the onyx clock. Has hidden it twice—once up the chimney flue, once behind baseboard. 10:15—He has just thrown key or similar small article outside window into yard. 11— Has gone to bed. Light burning. Shall sleep here on floor. 11:30—He cannot sleep. Is up walking the floor and smoking. 2 a. m.—Saturday. Disturbance below. He had nightmare and was calling “Jennie!” He got up, took a drink and is now reading. 8 a. m.—Must have slept He is shaving. 12 m.—Nothing this morning. He wrote for four hours, sometimes reading aloud what he had written. 2 p. m.—He has a visitor, a man. Cannot hear all—word now and then. “Llewellyn is the very man." “Devil of a risk.” “We’ll see you through.” “Lost the slip.” “Didn’t go to the hottel. She went to a private bouse.” “Eliza Shaeffer.” Who went to a private house? Jennie Brice? 2:3o—Cannot hear. Are whispering. The visitor has given Ladley roll of bills. 4—Followed the visitor, a tall man with a pointed beard. He went to the Liberty theater. Found it was Bronson, business manager there. Who is Llewellyn, and who is Eliza Shaeffer? 4:ls—Had Mrs. P. bring telephone book; six Llewellyns in the book; no Eliza Shaeffer. Ladley appears more cheerful since Bronson’s visit He has bought all the evening papers and is searching for something. Has not found it 7—Ate well. Have asked Mrs. P. to take my place here while I interview the six Llewellyns. 11—Mrs. P. reports a quiet evening. He read and smoked. Has gone to bed. Light burning. Saw five IJewellyns. None of them knew Bronson Or Ladley. Sixth—a lawyer—out at revival meeting. Went to the church 'and walked home with him. He knows something. Acknowledged he knew Bronson. Had met Ladley. Did not believe Mrs. Ladley dead. Regretted I had not been to the meeting. Good sermon. Asked me for a dollar foi missions. 9 a. m.—Sunday. Ladley in bad shape. Apparently been drinking ai: night. Cannot eat. Sent out early foi papers and has searched them all. Found entry on second page, stared al it, then flung the paper away. Have sent for same paper. 10 a. m.—Paper says: "Body of woman washed ashore yesterday at Sewickley. Much mutilated by flood debris.” Ladley in bed. staring at ceiling. Wonder if he sees tube? He is . ghastly. , That is the last entry in the note book for that day. Mr. Holcombe called me in great excitement shortly aftei 10 and showed me the item. Neithei of us doubted for a moment that it was Jennie Brice who had been found. He started for Sewickley that same afternoon, and he probably communicated with the police before he left, for once or twice I saw Mr. Graves, the detective, sauntering past the house. Mr. Ladley k ate no dinner. He went out at 4, and I had Mr. Reynolds follow him. But they were both back In a half hour. Mr. Reynolds reported that Mr. Ladley had bought some headache tablets and some bromide powders to make him sleep. Mr. Holcombe came back that evening. He thought the body was that of Jennie Brice, but the head was gone. He was much depressed and did not immediately go back to the periscope. I asked if the head had been cut off or taken off by a steamer. He was afraid the latter, as a hand was gone too. It was about 11 o’clock that night that the doorbell rang. It was Mr. Graves, with a small man behind him. I knew the man. He lived in a shanty boat not far from my house, a curious affair with shelves full of dishes and tinware. In the spring he would be towed up the Monongahela a hundred miles or so and float down, tying up at different landings and selling his wares. Timothy Senft was his name. .We called him Tim. Mr. Graves motioned me to be quiet Both of us knew that behind the parlor door Ladley was probably listening. “Sorry to get you up. Mrs. Pitman,” said Mr. Graves, “but this man says he has bought beer here today. That won’t do. Mrs. Pitman.” “Beer! I haven’t such a thing in the house- Come in and look!" I snapped. And the two of them went back to the kitchen. “Now,” said Mr. Graves when I had shut the door, “where’s the dog’s meat man?" “Upstairs.” “Bring him quietly." I called Mr. Holcombe, and be came eagerly, notebook and all. “Ah!” he said when he saw Tim. “So you’ve turned up!” “Yes, sir.” “It seems, Mr. Dog’s—Mr. Holcombe," said Mr. Graves, “that you are rightpartly anyhow. Tim here did help a ' man with a boat that night”— “Threw him a rope, sir,” Tim broke in. “He’d got out in the current, and what with the ice and his not knowing much about a boat he’d have kept on to New Orleans if I hadn’t caught iwriwnent • • > <——*

Um—or kingdom come.* * . "Exactly. And what time did you ■ay this was?” “Between 3 and 4 last Sunday night —or Monday morning. He said he, A ' ill 'I ' “Threw him a rope, sir,” Tim broke in couldn’t sleep and went out in a boat, meaning to keep in close to shore. But he got drawn out in the current" “Where did you see him first?” “By the Ninth street bridge.” “Did you hail him?’ * “He saw my light and hailed me. 1 was making fast to a coal barge aftei one of my ropes bad busted.” “You threw the line to him there?” “No, sir. He tried to work in to shore. I ran along River avenue to below the Sixth street bridge. He got pretty close in there, and I threw him a rope. He was about done up." “Would you know him again?" “Yes. sir. He gave me $5 and said to say nothing about it. He didn’t want anybody to know he had been such a fool." They took him quietly upstairs ther and let him look through the periscope. He identified Mr. Ladley absolutely. When Tim and Mr. Graves had gone Mr. Holcombe and I were left alone in the kitchen. Mr. Holcombe leaned over and patted Peter as he lay in his basket “We’ve got him, old boy," he said. “The chain is just about complete. He’ll never kick you again.” But Mr. Holcombe was wrong—not about kicking Peter, although I don’t ■ believe Mr. Ladley ever did that again, I but in thinking we had him. > I washed that next morning. Moni day, but all the time 1 was rubbing I and starching and hanging out my I mind was with Jennie Brice. The I sight of Molly Maguire next door at i the window rubbing and brushing at the fur coat only made things worse. I At noon when the Maguire young- ! sters came home from school I bribed , Tommy, the youngest, into the kitchen with the promise of a doughnut. I “I see your mother has a new fur ; coat,” I said, with the plate of doughnuts just beyond his reach. “Yes’m.” “She didn’t buy it?” I “She didn’t buy it. Say, Mrs. Pitman, gimme that doughnut.” “Oh, so the coat washed in!” “No’m. Pap found it down by the point on a cake of ice. He thought it was a dog, and rowed out for it.” Well, I hadn’t wanted the coat, as 1 far as that goes; I’d managed well 1 enough without furs for twenty years 1 or more. But it was a satisfaction to ‘ know that it had not floated into Mrs. : Maguire’s kitchen and spread itself at ’ her feet as one may say. However, ■ that was not the question after all. 1 The real issue was that if it was ; Jennie Brice’s coat and was found across the river on a cake of ice, then ; one of two things was certain: Either ’ Jennie Brice’s body wrapped in the 1 coat had been thrown into the water ' out in the current, or she herself, hop- ’ Ing to incriminate her husband, had ’ flung her coat into the river. . I told Mr. Holcombe, and he inter- ’ viewed Joe Maguire that afternoon. ■ The upshot of it was that Tommy had ■ been correctly informed. Joe hadwit- • nesses who had lined up to see him rescue a dog, and had beheld his re- ■ turn in triumph with a wet and soggy 1 fur coat At 3 o’clock Mrs. Maguire, ‘ instructed by Mr. Graves, brought the coat to me for identification, turning it 1 about for my inspection, but refusing • to take her hands off it • “If her husband says to me that he r wants it back, well and good,” she said. ’ “but I don’t give it up to nobody but I him. Some folks I know of would be 5 glad enough to have ft” I I was certain it was Jennie Brice’s > coat, but the maker’s name had been ’ ripped out With Molly holding one arm and I the other we took it to Mr. Ladley’s door and knocked. He opened . it, grumbling. “I have asked you not to interrupt . me,” he said, with his pen in his hand. ’ His eyes fell on the coat “What’s | j that?” he asked, changing color. . t “I think it’s Mrs. Ladley’s fur coat,” I said. > He stood there looking at it and . thinking. Then: “It can’t be hers,” be » said. “She wore hers when she went away.” _ , . j (To be continued—) 1 —The Mexican product problem is difficult to solve, but the flour problem is easy—GERBELLE and . NEVER FAIL. > —Underwear for every member of the family. A. W. Strieby & , Son. J. W. ROTHENBERGER I : Undertaker : j | SYRACUSE, : : IND. I

STATE BANK OF * -pita! $250 )0 Surplus $60(0 We pay 3 per cent b erest on Certificrtes of D posit The Wino a i Inicrurban R . Go. Effective Sunday Jut 29, ’l3. Time of arrival a, 1 departure of trains at Milfi d Junction, Ind. SQUTH N( RTH *7:19 a. m. 6:0 a. m. 7:52 “ 7:5 “ 9:00 “ 10:0 “ 11:00 “ *11:3 “ *1:00 p. m. xl:0( p. m.« x 12:00 “ 2:0 “ 3:00 “ 4:0 “ 5:00 “ 1-5:0 “ x 16:00 “ 6:o' “ ‘7:00 “ 7:o' “ 9:32 ' “ 8:0 “ 11J5 “ *10:l» “ t Winona Flyer throi ;h trains between Goshen and Iml mapolis. * Daily except Sunday x Runs to Warsaw onh W. D. STANSIF :R G. F. & P. A War aw, Ind EARNEST RICEA.RT ' A ■ / PUBLIC AUCTION R A worthy successor to L oln Cory See Geo. 0. Snyder at th Journal office for dates. Horse an 1 Automobile I very Good equipages f r every occasion. Reasonable rices for drives any.where. Hat service to the depot Fare 10 Gents Eat i wag HENRY SNOBfi IGER Barn on Main Street Phone 5 M. MANL f, WARSAW, IND XNA Abstracts of Titles to i sal Estate. You can i .ve money by sending me your orders. Orders May Be L> ft at Syracuse Stale B ink J. H. BOWSER Physician and Sur{ eon Tel. 85—Offiice and E isidence Syracuse, Ind. D. S. HONT Z Dentist All branches of work usually practiced by the prol tssion. Investigate our new tiling material. i AUCTIONEER I Cal. L. Stuc tman Phone 535, Nappan. e, Ind. You can call me dp without expense. BUTT & XAN; ERS Attorneys-at-La Practice in all Courts oney to Loan. \Fire Insura; e. Phone 7 SYRACU£ 1, IND. J-M. Shaff r, Chiropractor Consultation and Examina 1 Freo Chiropractic adjustments N! lay and Thursday of each week at N Landis* residence on Harrison street. SYRACUSE, ’ INDIANA L