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30 chapters
TO GRAHAM B. NICHOL AS A LITTLE TOKEN OF MY ADMIRATION AND AFFECTION
TO GRAHAM B. NICHOL AS A LITTLE TOKEN OF MY ADMIRATION AND AFFECTION
CHAPTER I. Strangled CHAPTER II. " Something Big in It " CHAPTER III. The Ruby Ring CHAPTER IV. Two Trails CHAPTER V. The Husband's Story CHAPTER VI. Morley Is in a Hurry CHAPTER VII. Miss Fulton Is Hysterical CHAPTER VIII. The Breath of Scandal CHAPTER IX. Women's Nerves CHAPTER X. Eyes of Accusation CHAPTER XI. The $1,000 Check CHAPTER XII. The Man with the Gold Tooth CHAPTER XIII. Lucy Thomas Talks CHAPTER XIV. The Pawn Broker Takes the Trail CHAPTER XV. Braceway Sees a Light CHAPTER XVI. A M
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STRANGLED
STRANGLED
When a woman's voice, pitched to the high note of utter terror, rang out on the late morning quiet of Manniston Road, Lawrence Bristow looked up from his newspaper quickly but vaguely, as if he doubted his own ears. He was reading an account of a murder committed in Waukesha, Wisconsin, and the shrieks he had just heard fitted in so well with the paragraph then before his eyes that his imagination might have been playing him tricks. He was allowed, however, little time for speculation or doubt.
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"SOMETHING BIG IN IT"
"SOMETHING BIG IN IT"
Before the question was answered the coroner arrived. While Chief Greenleaf told him the circumstances confronting them, Dr. Braley telephoned for a trained nurse for Miss Fulton. In the absence of anybody else to perform the unpleasant task, the doctor went back to take up with the bereaved girl the matter of telegraphing to her family and the details of preparing the murdered woman's body for burial as soon as would be compatible with the plans of the coroner. "I wonder, Mr. Bristow," suggeste
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THE RUBY RING
THE RUBY RING
Although it was Chief Greenleaf who opened the door, it was to Bristow that Morley turned, as if he instinctively recognized the superiority of the lame man's personality. Greenleaf, of average height and weight, had nothing of command or domination about him. With his red, weatherbeaten face and mild, expressionless blue eyes, he looked like a well-to-do farmer. He was suggestive of no acquaintance with Tarde, Lombroso or any other authorities on crime and criminals. "Won't you sit down?" invit
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TWO TRAILS
TWO TRAILS
"I'm afraid," said Bristow, after the policeman had hurried out, "we made a mistake in permitting Morley to talk to Miss Fulton just at present." "I can go down there and interrupt them," Greenleaf volunteered. The lame man reflected, a forefinger against the right side of his nose, the attitude emphasizing the fact that this feature was perceptibly crooked, bent toward the left. "No," he concluded. "We'd probably be too late." Then he added, "And we didn't find out Morley's employment or profes
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THE HUSBAND'S STORY
THE HUSBAND'S STORY
Mr. Bristow, however, was not allowed to rest half an hour. Instead, he was called upon to consider a phase of the Withers murder more amazing than any of those so far uncovered. Barely ten minutes after his conversation with the clerk of the Brevord, Mattie announced that two gentlemen were waiting to see him, one of them being the chief of police. When Bristow stepped into the living room, Greenleaf introduced the stranger. He was Mr. Withers—Mr. George S. Withers, husband of the murdered woma
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MORLEY IS IN A HURRY
MORLEY IS IN A HURRY
Bristow looked at his watch. It was nearly half-past two o'clock. "Hear anything about Perry?" he asked. "Yes," Greenleaf informed him. "My man found him. They've got him down at headquarters. I phoned from Number Five and got this. He'd been drinking. I gather that he's about half-drunk now." "Good! If he'll talk at all, it will be easier for you to get the truth out of him that way than if he were cold sober. Suppose you see him and Douglas Campbell; and later on this afternoon you and I can t
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MISS FULTON IS HYSTERICAL
MISS FULTON IS HYSTERICAL
The chief and his assistant were received by Miss Kelly, the trained nurse. Bristow wasted no time in what he considered to be the crucial search for more evidence. In speaking to her he exercised all his persuasiveness, all the suggestion of power and authority that he could force into his voice and expression. And yet, he gave her, as he had given Mrs. Allen, the impression that he deferred to her and prized her opinions. "Isn't there something you can tell us?" he asked, holding her glance wi
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THE BREATH OF SCANDAL
THE BREATH OF SCANDAL
A telegraph messenger laboured up to the hill on his bicycle and climbed the steps to the porch of No. 5, displaying in his hand several telegrams. Two other boys had preceded him within the last hour. Friends of the Fulton family, having read of the tragedy in afternoon papers throughout the country, were wiring their messages of sympathy. This was no little local, isolated affair, Bristow reflected. The prominence of the victim in Washington and in the South, together with the mystery surround
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WOMEN'S NERVES
WOMEN'S NERVES
Lucy Thomas in a cell in the Furmville jail sat on the edge of her cot at midnight, staring into inky darkness while she tried to remember the events of the night before. She was not of the slow-witted, stupid-looking type of negro women. The thing against which she struggled was not poverty of brain but the mist of forgetfulness with which the fumes of liquor had surrounded her. Questioned and requestioned by the police during the afternoon and early evening, she had been able to tell them only
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EYES OF ACCUSATION
EYES OF ACCUSATION
Bristow, at his early breakfast, devoted himself, between mouthfuls, to the front page of The Furmville Sentinel . It was given up entirely to the Withers murder. "Murder—murder horrible and mysterious—was committed early yesterday morning," announced the paper in large black-face type, "when the beautiful and charming Mrs. Enid Fulton Withers, wife of George S. Withers, the well-known attorney of Atlanta, was choked to death in the parlour of her home at No. 5 Manniston Road. The most heinous c
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THE $1,000 CHECK.
THE $1,000 CHECK.
A few minutes after eight o'clock that morning Mr. Illington, president of the Furmville National Bank, had called at the Brevord to see Mr. Withers, who, still holding his room there, was waiting for the delayed morning train. Mr. Illington was of the true banker type, fifty years old, immaculately dressed, thin of lip, hard of eye, slow and precise in his enunciation. He had, apparently, estranged himself from any deep, human feeling. The long handling of money had hardened him. His fingers we
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THE MAN WITH THE GOLD TOOTH
THE MAN WITH THE GOLD TOOTH
Mr. Fulton's arms trembled as he put his hands on the arms of a chair and seated himself with the deliberateness of his years. In his face the lines were still deep, and once or twice his mouth twisted as if with actual pain, but there was in his eyes the flame of an indomitable will. He was by no means a crushed and weak old man. Neither the terrific blow of his daughter's death nor the reverses he had suffered in his business affairs had broken him. "What I have to say," he began, looking firs
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LUCY THOMAS TALKS
LUCY THOMAS TALKS
Lucy came slowly into the room and stood near the door. She was of the peculiar-looking negress type sometimes seen in the South—light of complexion, with hard, porcelain-like blue eyes and kinky hair which, instead of being black, is brown or brownish red. After her first startled glance toward Bristow she stood with her head lowered and with an expression of sulky stubbornness. "Sit down!" he ordered after a few moments' silence, indicating a chair near the wall. She took her seat while he ste
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THE PAWN BROKER TAKES THE TRAIL
THE PAWN BROKER TAKES THE TRAIL
Frank Abrahamson, pawn broker and junk dealer, responded at once to Braceway's warm smile. The Jew had his racial respect for keenness and clean-cut ability. He liked this man who, dressed like a dandy, spoke with the air of authority. "The fellow with the gold tooth?" he replied to Braceway's request for information. "Was there anything peculiar about him? Why, yes. He was clothed in peculiarities." The pawn broker, thin, round-shouldered, with a great hook-nose and cavernous, bright eyes, spok
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BRACEWAY SEES A LIGHT
BRACEWAY SEES A LIGHT
Braceway had discovered long ago that the man who attempts good work as a detective must depend almost as much on his ability to make friends as he does on his capacity for sifting evidence. "I'm a good worker," he was in the habit of saying, "but I'm not half as good working alone as I am when I have the help of all the men and women who are witnesses in a case or connected with it in some other way. I need all the cooperation I can get." This was one reason why Roddy, when he entered Braceway'
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A MESSAGE FROM MISS FULTON
A MESSAGE FROM MISS FULTON
It was a little after three o'clock when Chief Greenleaf and Lawrence Bristow finished their "celebration dinner" and took their seats on the porch of No. 9. The host, accomplishing the impossible in a prohibition state, had produced a bottle of champagne, explaining: "Just for you, chief; I never touch it;" and the chief had enjoyed it, unmistakably. At Bristow's suggestion they refrained from discussing any phase of the murder during the meal. "All we have to do now," he said, "is to see that
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MISS FULTON'S REVELATION
MISS FULTON'S REVELATION
Prepared as he was for surprise, his emotion, when he was ushered into Miss Fulton's room, was little short of amazement. The girl was transformed. Instead of a spoiled child, with petulant expression, he beheld a calm, well controlled woman who greeted him cordially with a smile. Overnight, it seemed, she had developed into maturity. Wearing a simple, pale blue negligée, and propped up in bed, as she had been the day before, she had now in her attitude nothing of the weakness she had shown duri
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WHAT'S BRACEWAY'S GAME?
WHAT'S BRACEWAY'S GAME?
Braceway, keeping his promise to have another conference with Bristow, sat on the porch of No. 9 and watched the last golden streamers the setting sun had flung above the blue edges of the mountains. He still carried his cane. "What's your plan now, Mr. Braceway?" Bristow inquired. "You think you'll follow Morley to Washington?" "Not follow him," the detective answered smilingly. "I'm going with him. That is, I'll take the same train he does." "Greenleaf told you, I suppose, that he'd given Morl
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AT THE ANDERSON NATIONAL BANK
AT THE ANDERSON NATIONAL BANK
When the train pulled into Washington at eleven o'clock, Henry Morley, the first passenger to alight, shook off the red-cap porters who grabbed at his grips, and hurried toward the gates. Braceway, well hidden by shadows just inside the big side-door of one of the baggage coaches, observed how pale and haggard he looked under the strong glare of the arc-lights. "Hardly more than a kid!" thought the detective, with involuntary sympathy. "Why is it that most of the criminals are merely children? I
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THE DISCOVERY OF THE JEWELS
THE DISCOVERY OF THE JEWELS
Braceway returned to the lobby of his hotel, and, having bought half a dozen New York newspapers, settled down to wait for a report from Golson's bureau concerning Morley's movements. A little after eleven he was called to the telephone. "Your man caught the eight o'clock train for Baltimore." Golson himself gave the information. "Delaney also caught it. They got to Baltimore at nine. Your man took a taxi straight to the shop of an old fellow named Eidstein, reaching there at twenty minutes past
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BRISTOW SOLVES A PROBLEM
BRISTOW SOLVES A PROBLEM
Mr. Beale and Mr. Jones were, so far as their exteriors showed, nearly back to the normal iciness of their every-day appearance when Braceway found them in the president's office a few minutes after half-past five. He did not have to ask what they had discovered; their faces were frank confessions. He dropped into a chair and smiled. "How much?" Mr. Beale cleared his throat and moved his lips deliberately one against the other. "Before I say anything else, Mr.—er—Braceway, I want to express to y
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A CONFESSION
A CONFESSION
Bristow, satisfied now that he had fathomed Braceway's reluctance to accept as final the case against Perry Carpenter, had not been the only one mystified by the detective's course. Practically every other detective and police official in the country was wondering what secret motive had impelled Braceway to keep public attention focused on the tragedy after a flawless case against the real murderer had been established. They knew that he was in the employ of the husband and father of the murdere
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ON THE RACK
ON THE RACK
Braceway waved his hand carelessly, relinquishing the post of questioner. Bristow took command again. "What did you do after you saw the second man?" "At first, I sat still. After a while, not very long, it occurred to me that the two women in Number Five might be in danger. I say it occurred to me, but I didn't really think so. "I walked down to the bungalow, but I couldn't hear any noise, couldn't see any light. Finally, I went up to the head of the steps and listened, but there wasn't a sound
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MISS FULTON WRITES A LETTER
MISS FULTON WRITES A LETTER
As long as the public's morbid curiosity clamoured for details of the case, the newspapers provided them lavishly. This curiosity was intensified by two things: first, the search for a murderer after so much almost convincing evidence had been found against the negro, and, second, the duel between Bristow, the amateur, and Braceway, the professional, each bent on making his theory "stand up." The amateur had achieved far more celebrity than he had expected. It would have been hard to find two me
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A MYSTIFYING TELEGRAM
A MYSTIFYING TELEGRAM
Reaching Furmville early Sunday morning, Bristow went straight to his bungalow, where Mattie had breakfast waiting for him. "You is sholy some big man now, Mistuh Bristow!" she informed him. "Sence you been gawn, folks done made it a habit to drive by hyuh jes' foh de chanct uv seem' you." Before the day was over, he found that this was true. And he liked it. He spent a great deal of his time on the front porch, finding it far from unpleasant to be regarded as a second Sherlock Holmes. Late in t
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WANTED: VENGEANCE
WANTED: VENGEANCE
But the next morning was the crowded beginning of the biggest day in Bristow's life, and the trip to the library was delayed. The hired automobile was waiting in front of No. 9 when a second telegram came, a bulky dispatch, scrawled with a pen across several pages. Dated from New Orleans, it read: "Reward of five thousand dollars for discovery of my seven-year-old son within next six days. Kidnapped last Friday night. No clue so far. Am most anxious for your help. Will pay you two thousand dolla
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THE REVELATION
THE REVELATION
Braceway and Maria Fulton had upon their faces that expression which announces a happy understanding between lovers. The light of surrender was in her eyes, contented surrender to the man who, because of his love, had asserted his mastery of her. And his voice, as he spoke to her, was all a vibrant tenderness. He realized that he had found and finally made certain his happiness, had done so at the very moment of making public his greatest professional triumph. For his visit to her he had stolen
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CONFESSION VOLUNTARY
CONFESSION VOLUNTARY
Braceway leaned against the mantel, relaxed, swinging his cane slowly in his right hand, a careless, easy grace in his attitude. He addressed himself to Fulton and Greenleaf, an occasional glance including Abrahamson in the circle of those for whose benefit he spoke. Bristow listened now in unfeigned absorption, estimating every statement, weighing each detail. The tenseness of his pale face showed how he forced his brain to concentration. "Having decided that the bearded man and the murderer we
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THE LAST CARD
THE LAST CARD
He worked with surprising rapidity, tearing from the machine and passing to Braceway each half-page as he finished it. He wrote triple-space, breaking the story into many paragraphs, never hesitating for a choice of words....
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