Judge — April 19, 1919 — page 19: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE BEST STORY OF THE WEEK FROM ‘ABROAD HERE was a soft, hurried knock- ing at the front door. It well past cleven, and I wondered who I drew the bolts and chains, and the it was. as soon as the door was opened, knocker whispered “Let me in, Paul! Bathurst!” He slid in like a shadow and shut the door quickly. hank Heave he sighed. “Can you put me up for the night, old man? [ll explain why. I’m sorry to trouble you.” He dropped a shabby hand-bag he was carrying, came into my room walked over to the fire. “B-r cold!"” he said Then I looked at him, and gasped in amazement. His boots were broken; his greenish overcoat was almost buttonless; his trousers were frayed; he had a dirty IV's Jack—Jack it’s white muffler round his nec nd dirty gray socks round his ankles; his hat— well, it wasn’t “But, my dear boy! I never knew you had had trouble. The last I heard of you was that you were a captain in the Kents, and had been seen at Armen- tid ‘s. “Twas,” he said. “I got invalided out in 1917. But I will have to explain. Can you give me some whisky? And can I stay here to-night? They’re after me and I am tired of being pursued. If any- one knocks at your front door let me out by the back garden—for Heaven's sake, as an old friend!” He gulped a bubbling glass of whisky and soda, and then suddenly clapped his hand on my shoulder, and said: “Look here, Paul. I'll tell you some- thing, if you'll swear, as an old Jacobean, not to tell a living soul! “Well!” she said, “have you heard of the Man with the Black Beard?” “Have I heard?” I answered, and picked up an evening paper and pointed out the headline. ‘Who hasn't? He was scen at Hoxton to-night, and was nearly caught, the brute! He takes ri though; he’s got some nerve.” “Bring in my bag, and look inside,” said Jack. I brought it into the room and opened it. Inside were two untidy parcels and a wisp of black hair. I pulled the latter out, and saw that it was a black beard and mustache combined. THE SECRET MINISTRY By Brewster Paut “What mean?” asked, frantic “Yes! Jam the Man with the Black Beard. 1 am the brute,” he said, smil ng. “Oh! Don’t look like that; I have seen that expression so often during the [ll tell you all about it. Yes, I am the M.B.B. I did murder John Dawlish—and—this'll bowl you over Tam John Dawlish, too. I'l explai “Last year, when I invalided out, I got an official envelope marked M.M. “Tt was a request from an old adver- tising friend of mine to call and see him. I called. He wanted my assistance. M.M. stood for a secret ministry, the Ministry of Morale. It was being worked in conjunction with theatrical managers, what, do you last week was A Blue Outlook La Mucca—Brutto ladro, guarda come ri- duce il prodetto delle mie fatiche. The Cot-—Wretch! He's ruining my repu- tation!—II 420 (Florence). the humorous press, the moving-picture world, and the vaudeville stage. Its high officials met all great heads of these businesses, and with them controlled the enterprises which brought a good morale to the public. That wasn’t enough. He wanted more ideas! “During the next few days I had a sud- den idea. I called to see him. He jumped at it “My scheme was this: What only thing that grips the public est, the only thing that really gets them going and excites them—which makes a peer and a policeman, a bishop and a barber, pals? What is it? A big murder There have been hardly any since the beginning of the war—I told him. Why not organize some? “Think of it.” I told him. “If we worked a good idea out, we will time it to swamp the depression caused by a German advance, or a series of air-raids! We will make the public think of Cam- berwell, instead of Cambrai—of ‘Hell fire Harry’ instead of Hindenburg. (Do you remember ‘Hell-fire Harry’? He is drinking your whisky, and soda now!) We will get such a mystery going that, while it is in the papers, the fall of Paris will be in the bottom right-hand corner under ‘Jottings.’ “And it worked! Do you remember Madame de Campaux and the House h the Green Shutter? Do you remem- ber how her body vanished, and Danny Spencer escaped from Brixton Prison? I went to a dance at the Albert Hall that night, with Lola de Campaux—my wife! The police were in it! The judges were in it! A few editors were in it! It worked wonderfully. Do you remember when that affair went wrong out in France, and General Stanton got killed? You don’t remember very well? No! We arranged that you shouldn’t. As soon as we had the advance news of it through the War Office, Lord Dover transferred all inter- est from it by getting arrested on sus- picion of having arranged the abduction of Muriel Walsh from the Trafalgar Theatre between two acts! Lord Dover was a sport, so was the girl! And how she played up to it! “The Mansion House case, the New- castle Green Lantern mystery, were ours! This man with the Black Beard is now being run in connection with the strikes! (Continued on next page) is the inter- comichooks.