Judge — January 9, 1926 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

as best I might at the Bump of Ratiocination. An eerie cry tore through thenight, followed by a thud. “My God!” I cried. “Lights, McGrouch, lights!” Yet even as McGrouch leaped to obey, I realized it was too late. The smell of fresh blood swept pungently to my nostrils. Gibbering, I leaped to a corner—covering my horrified face with my hands. Instead of the Bump of Ratiocination, I had hit the Great Man’s nose! To my relief, however, Glumph’s attention was focused not upon me, but upon the upflung right knee of the murdered body. In a flash, I saw it all. In his agony the Great Man had doubled up violently, spas- modically, and in so doing had rapped | the patella sharply with his hawk- | like chin, And that chance blow— guided as if by the hand of fate—had touched a hidden spring. | “A secret passage!” I cried, awed. | “Look, Glumph, there—in her right knee—the secret... .” But my friend was already through the open door, and half-way up the spiral staircase, mounting, mounting, till McGrouch and myself were hard put to it to keep up with him. At | last Glumph paused, and I knew we must be opposite the point immedi- ately above the heart. Slowly he drew aside the purple hangings, thrust out his arm to its fullest extent and triumphantly drew forth—the | stiletto! The mystery was a mystery no longer. “And the murderer?” I gasped. For answer, Glumph pointed si- | lently to the floor beneath our feet where, clearly outlined in the dust as though etched by the hand of a master craftsman, showed the foot- prints of the assassin. The dainty, | footprints of the | French-heeled | woman herself! “So,” remarked McGrouch at last, when we had regained the pure air of the room outside, “it was nothing but suicide after all?” “Nothing but suicide,” replied the | “And yet, | Great Man dreamily who knows?—is not suicide perhap: after all, nothing but murder back- wards. The Lord giveth... .” For awhile he stood wrapped in | speculations so deep, so sheer, that neither McGrouch or I could follow | him, At last, with a sigh of resigna- | tion, he turned to me. “My boy,” he said kindly, “it looks like snow.”” “It is snow,” I replied. sniff.” And as he raised the white dust to his twitching, hawk-like nose— “Have a “Cuckoo!” said the little dust- | shrouded clock, “cuckoo! Cuckoo!” Gardner Rea ‘om == The Future of the Telephone It was fifty years ago that Alex- ander Graham Bell invented the telephone, and yet this anniver- sary is but a milestone in the progress of telephone develop- ment. As the giant oak with its complicated structure grows from the acorn, soa nation-wide system has grown out of Bell’s single telephone instrument. The interconnection of millions of telephones throughout the land, regardless of distance, has not come about easily. It has resulted from a series of scientific discov- eries and technical achievements embodied in a telephone plant of vast extent and intricacy. Great economies have already been gained by such technical im- provements and more are sure to follow for the benefit of teleplione users everywhere. There are still to come many other discoveries and achieve- ments, not only in transmission of speech, but also in the material and construction details of every part of the network of plant. The future of the telephone holds forth the promise of a ser- vice growing always greater and better, and of a progress—the end of which no one can foresee. AMERICAN TELEPHONE AND TELEGRAPH ComPANY AND AssocIaTED ComPANIES IN ITS SEMI-CENTENNIAL YEAR THE BELL SYSTEM LOOKS FOR- WARD TO CONTINUED PROGRESS IN TELEPHONE COMMUNICATION SOLD! REAL ESTATE NUMBER JUDGE AT ALL NEWSSTANDS oe NEXT WEEK ‘comicbooks.com