HASTINGS BRADLEY Copyright by D. Appletone Century Co, Ine, WNU Service SYNOPSIS Lella Seton, young and beautiful and An expert on paintings, is commissioned to go over the collection of paintings in the home of the wealthy Kellers in New York, where a party is In progress, From her window she witnesses a man in another room strike a woman. Short. ty after Mrs, Keller sends up word, ask- ing her to join the party at dinner. Leila hastily dresses and goes down. Bhe is seated between Mr, Deck, a critic, wnd Monty Mitchell, a noted lawyer. introductions follow. There are Mr. Harriden, Miss Letty Van Alstyn, Mrs. Crane, Mrs, Watkins and Prince and Princess Rancini, guests. Leila finds she is taking the place of Nora Harrl- den, Dan Harriden leaves the table, und Mitchell explains he has gone up to see how his wife's headache is, He returns shortly, Deck, saying he must put in a call, leaves. Upon his return, he begs Leila to secretly take a mes- mage to Nora “to take no steps until I see you." Lella consents. Leila finds the Harriden rooms empty and so in- forms Deck. Coming out she passes Letty, Harriden asks Princess Rancini to run up and see his wife, The prin- cess reports the absence of Nora. Har- riden admits that he had a row, and believes she Is spitefully hiding, Letty tells of seeing Leila come from the room. Leila accuses Harriden of having struck his wife, This Harriden denies. From the Harridens' window Lella sees what proves to be Nora's lifeless body. A ghastly head wound caused death. Dan says she was lying on her bed when he went to dinner, and when he ran up later the room was dark, Think. ing she was asleep, he left without see- ing her. Mra, Keller comes upon a pool of blood in the closet, A diamond chain is missing. Donahey, police inspector, questions the guests Harriden brands Lella’s story of seeing a man strike a woman a lie. Anson, a maid, tells of seeing Deck outside the Harriden door. Desk says he passed by In seeking a fost handkerchief, Elkins, a servant, tells of overhearing Deck threaten Mrs. Harriden earlier in the day. Deck ex- plains he was intoxicated and does not remember, That night Leila awakes with the impression of some one being In her room and then hears steps in the hall, Belleving she was mistaken, she does not report it. Later Donahey sends for Leila. She identifies the dress he has as hers, Pinned to it is a hand- kerchief containing the missing chain. Leila tells of her intruder, Mitchell tries to help clear her. Harriden ace cuses Leila of being Deck’s confeder- Rte, A large diamond is missing from the chain. The handkerchief which contained the diamond chain has one corner torn off and is stained, CHAPTER VI—Continued HI “Ah, there they differ. He thinks before—they think after. So think the Kellers. But people were drifting about so, that it's easy to overlook some one In the room. . . . I was next to the last. Or Deck was, we differ there. Letty Van Alstyn was the last. Now what about Letty?" “Well, what about her?” I echoed. “She's cuckoo over Harriden” he told me, “Harriden?” “Yep. She might have dropped In to see Nora and Nora twitted her about something—Nora knew all about Letty's pash for Dan, and Letty got in a rage and caught up something that was handy. , . .» I flung out, “But a girl couldn't have killed her—like that—" “Somebody killed her—Ilike that” “And dragged her, first to a closet, then to a window" “You can do a lot when you have to. Letty went up right after dinner,” he pointed out. “She wouldn't give a hoot in Hades what happened to any one so she got clear. Tagging the diamonds to you would be just her line.” “A sweet menagerie,” I commented. “I know all these people involved — except the Rancinis—and you don't— I'm not sure but that gives you the edge over me for you've no precon- ceptions. Except about Deck,” he add- ed, suddenly. “You think Deck is in- nocent, don't you?” Under the quizzical gleam of his eyes, 1 felt the weight of his look upon me, a shrewd, legal, estimating look, and a sudden cold doubt of his friendliness blew like a chill wind through my uncertain mind I bad a horrid thought. + What was his own share in this involved affair? At what time had he, him- self, come down to dinner? About the same time as Deck. Just before Letty Van Alstyn. He had never liked Nora Harriden; he had admitted it with a frankness meant, perhaps, to disarm suspicion. My look twisted away from his but not quickly enough. He rose, laugh- ing at me with a chiding note of rail lery. “Shall we go see If my hankles match?” I looked again and laughed with him; I felt horribly ashamed of my- self, CHAPTER VII Clancy had returned and his report three separate of handkerchiefs possessions of Harriden, and of Kel ler and of Deck. Donahey sat glowering over that bit of news, Mitchell urged the immediate exam- ination of the handkerchief and Dona- hey agreed, sending Clancy up with it to the picture gallery. But before I could join him with my case of mate rials I had to be subjected to a search both of my belongings and of my per son. I was told that this was a rou- tine matter that everyone was un- dergoing, In the effort to discover the missing pendant. After having seen that glittering chaln brought out of the hanky in- slde my dress I was really afrald they'd conjure the famous pendant out of my powder box or the toe of a slipper. That demon thief might have tucked it anywhere, I breathed a good deal easier when the ordeal was over. I was glad to be In the gallery again, where Clancy was waiting beside a card table that Elkins had set up. I was grateful to have the work on the handkerchief, grateful to Mitchell for trying to range me on the side of the investigators, There were three people, I thought, on whom suspicion might justifiably rest; there were the Prince and Prin- cess Rancinl and Letty Van Alstyn, but there was not a scrap of evidence against any of them. No, there were four. I had to be honest with myself; I couldn't pretend, There was Alan Deck. And against him was all the evidence they had. I wanted to see Deck. I wanted to talk with him. Not here, with Clancy at hand-—yes, here, even though we could say nothing that mattered. If I could see him again, I thought I could find an answer to that worrying um certainty in me. The testing was a difficult business, The handkerchief had been so thor oughly washed that I began to de spair of uncertainty In my experi ments, Not about the rust marks: those I did make sure of. Then, in one of the corners, close under the fold of the hemstitched hem, I found traces of stain that ylelded a blood reaction. “That's blood,” I sald, In the intervals of waiting and dry- ing I walked up and down the gallery. I found myself wishing to get at the records of these pictures to begin the real work for which I had come. For a few moments I forgot the night- mare of that murder. I grinned at a Magdalen, attributed to Titian, analo- gous to the one at Naples, and then I was caught by a lovely little Virgin whose suppliant, adoring curves and pure, poignant ecstasy made me yearn to prove her the creation of Angelico that she was labeled. As my mind bit on these familiar realities my nerves steadied, and when I went down with the policeman to make my report I was feeling more like myself. Alan Deck was with Monty Mitchell, and when he suw me he came forward quickly, with a “Good morning, accom. plice!” in his mocking way. Monty sald, “Find anything? And they both came with me while I had my moment of Importance, making my report to Donahey. I used all the words and technleal terms that I thought he would not know but the main facts were clear— blood in one corner, and five marks of rust, Donahey nodded, as if he had guessed it all the time, and I moved away with Deck. Mitchell stayed with the Inspector: I remember seeing him turn the handkerchief about very slow- ly In his hands Deck sald thoughtfully, “That blood rather disposes of the theory that the diamonds might have been put there by some one who just picked them up ~gfterwards.” And at my assent he sald, “Well, that's that!” In a bard voice. Grant now appeared before us, an- nouncing that a buffet luncheon was being served In the dining-room. As I went to wash my stained fingers 1 saw Miss Van Alstyn in the hall ahead of me. As she paused at her door, opposite that closed door behind which Nora Harriden was lying, | saw the maid, Anson, stop her, holding something In her hand, “Yes, I threw it away,” 1 heard Miss Van Alstyn say. “It's broken—throw it out™ “It's so pretty,” Anson murmured. “If you don't mind my keeping it—" “As you like,” sald Miss Van Al styn indifferently and disappeared into her room, Out of an Impulse of friendliness for that pretty Anson I turned and asked her what she had, “It's for the bhalr, miss, only the comb is broken,” she told me. “Maybe I could get another fixed on. It's so pretty" It was pretty — a sharp - pointed crescent about four or five inches long, glittering with bright brown stones, The comb, at right angles to the cres- cent, had been broken sharply off. 1 picked it up; it seemed a little large and too heavy for anywhere except the back of the head, above a froth of curls. It was of some solld brown metal and I thought another comb could easily be soldered on. “It's worth It.” I told Anson, and she sald she had been afraid to carry it away without asking, for fear it had fallen in the basket by mistake. I was reflecting that costume jew. elry, to Miss Van Alstyn, was not worth repairing, and then, staring at those hard, pointed ends, that solid metal If a woman had a thing lke this in her hands , , . If she struck ou: with it, furiously, . . . “When did you find this, Anson?" Last night, she told me. When she had been arranging the room for the night, “Were the broken pieces of the comb in the basket, too” “I did see some broken pleces. But they went with the trash. They couldn't have been fixed” “With the trash? Where did the trash go? “Why, In the Incinerator, Miss,” she answered, eyes widening at my ques tions, “And was the incinerator gol=g? “Last night, mise? I couldn't say. I know it hasn't been going this morn- ing for that policeman gave orders not to have anything burned.” I turned the crescent about, No sign of a blood film over any of its bright- ness—but blood could be superficially washed off in running water. A blow with it, a jab with one of those vi- clously polgted ends, would have bro- ken off the comb, , . , She might not have thought to wash off the pleces of the comb, . , . In Imagination I saw Letty Van Al- styn snatching this crescent from her hair, striking out recklessly. . . . Anson was staring at me; I hand. ed it back to her, saying something about my interest in imitations to ex- cuse my absorption In it. , , . Letty Van Alstyn came out of her room, passing down to luncheon, and in the vague smile she swept over us I felt a sharpening of curiosity. Scrubbing my stained fingers, brush- Ing out my hair, I tried to fit the pleces together in this pattern. . . . Suppose Letty were gullty—how about that scene at the window? Well, that could have had nothing to do with the actual murder—it might have been Deck, or Rancinl or Harriden for all his denials, , , . Suppose it had been Harriden. Sup- pose he had gone on down to din- ner, and Nora had been in bed, re- sentful, hysterical, when Letty had dropped in, on her way down. Nora might have surmised that Letty had The Prince Rancinl Walked By. been stirring up Dan's jealousy, so there was every reason for a scene between them. A terrific scene, In which Letty, in blind rage or In self protection had struck out with the first thing at hand. , , . I had to imagine her picking up one of Dan's handkerchiefs to wipe off the blood , , . thrusting Nora into the closet . . . waiting till she was sure the rest were down at dinner, then putting her out the window. Perhaps the blood - stained handkerchief had been a crumpled ball In Letty's brown bag and after dinner she had gone up to wash It out—that was when she had riden’s door. Perhaps the yellow diamonds had been In Letty's brown bag, too. And late that night-—or rather early in the morning--she had torn the initials out of the dried handkerchief and stolen up to my room. The pleces fitted together, I thought excitedly. But there was nothing in the world to sustain that wild sus picion but my vivid imagination-—noth- ing unless there should be blood upon the pleces of broken comb in the In I fairly raced down, then, to the buffet luncheon, eager to pour this out to Mitchell, Mitchell was busily filling a plate so I went over to him. His eyes looked darker and more alert than ever: his black hair, which began quite far back on his forehead was standing up In an excited crest. We sat down at a cor. ner of the table—he hated eating In his lap, he declared—and under my breath I poured out my conjecturings. Promptly he dashed my hopes. “In cinerator been going for an hour. Don- ahey let them start it up when he saw there weren't any rags there—just trash and garbage. Did you keep the crescent?” When I sald I hadn't, he advised me to get it and test it for blood. But he seemed a little detached. He even sald, “I think you're barking up the wrong tree.” “It was your tree,” I told him in. dignantly. “You thought she could be a guilty soul.” “Oh, a possibility—yes. But some how" He left it in dublety, hat and coat and, with Donahey's per mission, he took me outdoors and where cool wind and their tonic effect. some Internment camp, After we had passed each other twice to Join us. w Without his wife's presence he ex- panded Into galety:; he seemed to me a big, light-hearted pleasure-loving fellow, with a Continental's casual cynicism about life and emotional re- sponsiveness to beauty. He stopped us to show us a particularly lovely contrast of light and dark blue in the sea, pointing with his stick, and he told us of his swimming feats at Ca- pri and his skiing records at St. Mo- ritz and of his shooting triumphs in Scotland, For a time I was amused at this distraction; no one could have im- agined that we three people, prome- nading up and down those stately ave- nues, chatting of tournaments were three members of an isolated house- hold darkened by death and shadowed by suspicion, Mitchell sald very lttle — he had small chance against the prince ex- cept through Interruptions. But he created a diversion by suddenly trip- ping over a root and emitting a suc- cession of fervent damns as he hopped about distressfully. “It's this confounded ankle—strained it a year ago. May I borrow your stick? he asked the prince, I thought Rancinl passed it over rather reluctantly. At the time I im- agined he fancied It as part of his own costuming, Mitchell leaned on it as he walked along with us, refusing to return to the house, “Be all right in a second.” Then Rancini began telling about his palace in Rome that he was dolng over and about his efforts to collect the tapestries and furniture that be had previously sold. 1 gathered that he was doling all this with his wife's money. It was when we returned to the house, and Mitchell was passing back the cane, declaring himself complete- ly recovered, that he made a casual- sounding observation. “This is one of those trick things, isn't It, prince? Isn't there a spring I feel here—7" “But yes," sald Rancinl, without the slightest hesitation. “You press this— please take your hands away. I do it—I1 know this thing. So—llke that. And out comes this little toy” What came out was the point of a substantial looking knife, quite a stab- bing tool. “Another press and a bayo- net,” sald Rancini, laughing “Quite a toy,” Mitchell commented, eyeing It quizzieally. “And not such a toy at that. In Rome now, the streets are safe, but in Paris, when one is late—in the quarters of a little milliner, perhaps—" “With a jealous lover around the corner,” Monty Mitchell suggested, “81, si!” Rancinl laughed, then un- der his breath to me he murmured in swift Italian, “When the heart Is empty one must pass the hours.” and I smiled up at his smile and asked to see the knife again. I looked hard at it. The sharp, strong point seemed bright, unstained. CHAPTER VIII Mitchell sald very naturally, “A use ful thing, that! A pity Nora Harriden didn’t have one at hand when that fel low set on her.” Not a quiver of Rancinl's face, as far as I could see. Perhaps the fact that there wasn't a quiver, that his voice was blandly expressionless meant We were back In the house again, to tension and uncertainty strain of our own thoughts, Mitchell went off to Donahey, com- ing back just for a moment to report that no trace of the pendant had been found. When I went to Anson to get the crescent, with a little made-up speech about my Interest in imitation stones, she told me that Miss Van Alstyn had asked for it back, giving her instead a star of brilllants, immensely puzzled. den, surreptitious change? I tried, on the impulse, to find her but she wasn’t in her room; my mald at last located her IR the Keller sitting-room, with Mrs. Crane and the two Kellers, play- ing at bridge. “I don’t think they liked my barging in on them, and Miss Van Alstyn looked frankly wondering when I A young man went to Australia | against his father's wishes. In one letter home he wrote: “I have bought a car; first feather in my | cap.” In another he wrote: “Ihave bought a farm; another feather in my cap.” This went on for some time and always the son's letter finished with | “another feather in my cap.” Later the father received a letter which ran: “Dear dad, I am broke; please send passage home.” The father replied: “Nothing do- ing. Take the feathers from your cap, stick them on your back and fly home.” Miss Willing-—Sarah, if Mr. Simple calls while I'm out, hold him until I return. Sarah—Oh, miss, sure I wouldn't like to do that. Handy In a Mexican prison a convicted murderer was told by his wife that he was doomed to die unless he could get a pardon from the gov- ernor of the state. She asked: “How do you go about getting a pardon from the gover- nor?" “That's easy,” he replied, and raised his voice: ‘Hey, governor, how about a pardon?" “Sure,” was the reply. It came from the next cell. —Troy Times Record. Modesty Preserved Mrs. Blurb—They say that veils for women are coming in style. I wonder why that is? Mr. Blurb—I understand the wom- en are ashamed to show their faces when they go out wearing those clothes that they wear now.—Stray Stories Magazine. Melancholy Punster “We have squandered money with. out thought of a proper return,” said the student of economics. “Yes,” replied Mr. Dustin Stax. “1 fear we have proved one of those countries in which a profit is with. out honor." Waits for the Empty Space I was warning my little neighbor about being careful crossing streets, “Oh, don’t worry,” the child as | sured me. “I always wait for the empty space to come by."'—Royal Arcanum. Seemed to Fir Policeman (to motorist) — Why didn’t you slow down? Didn't you see the notice: Slow Down Here? Motorist—Yes but I thought it was | describing your village.—Stray Sto ries Magazine. i IN THE PICTURE “Strange, Ann should invite that | horrid grass widow to her wedding; | she has such a disagreeable past.” | “Yes, my dear, but she's rich | enough to furnish a very agreeable present.” More Convenient Woman-—No, I tell you I object to giving money at the door! Tramp-—-Well, ma'am, perhaps I'm not particular. — Pearson's Weekly. Couldn't Fool Him Dentist, open widel not going to hurt you. New Patient—Cut out the profes sional guff, old man. I'm a dentist myself, ~Stray Stories Magazine. The Main Requisite “Do you have to have talent to I'm ham.” Turning Point Squire to Villager—So you're Tom—Well, zur, I tuk a fancy When I heerd she was for seven CONDESCENDING COOK AR Mrs. Hatch: Did the cook Mrs. Smith: she didn't the trouble to leave. She simply notified us by telephone that she was going to stay away. 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