Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 16: what you’re looking at

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486 the noted detective. Pending Mrs. Sands’ s arrival I shall authorize him to investigate the case.” “Glad to meet you, : anited Craton, holding out his hand. « Nasty business, a thing like this. It shakes a man to the very core.” Deston nodded as he regarded Craton searchingly. His face was plainly haggard and deep lines had come to mark his fea- tures. He looked old. “When did Mr. Sands’s son arrive here?” questioned Craton. “I gather that he doesn’t live at Brookmeadow.” ‘No, he doesn’t. As to when he ar- rived I can’t say. I was away, up at the main house. I got back here and went directly to my room in the rear, entered by the back door. I was up there when I heard the shot.” _ “How long were you away?” Deston frowned at the clock. ‘‘ It must have been an hour or more. Yes, surely all of that.” | Craton turned to Marsh. “ You'll want to speak with the physician, I suppose. Will you take him up, Mr. Deston?” Marsh comprehended Craton’s wish to have the room to himself, so signed to Deston. As they passed into the front hall, clos- ing the door behind them, Craton stepped into the middle of the room. With chin up, eyes narrowed, nostrils slightly dilated, he studied the scene slowly, carefully. _ In front of him was a large, flat topped mahogany desk with usual appointments in- cluding telephone. Beyond the desk was an open fireplace of magnificent proportions. To the right of the fireplace stood the davenport back of which lay the body of James Sands. Beyond the body was a door, standing open. _- The library was a corner room with win- dows looking out upon the grounds and ~ lane which passed quite close to the house. To the left of the fireplace a door opened into a narrow hall from which two other _ doors opened; one to the dining room, the other to the side veranda. In the right wall—besides the door be- hind the davenport—was a third door epen- ing into the front hall. - ARGOSY- ALLSTORY WEEKLY. The furnishings were rich but in exceed- ingly good taste; the pictures quite excel- lent, the books on the shelves worthy. _ A quick sweeping glance on Craton’s part gave him these facts. He turned to a more careful and minute consideration of James Sands’s body. Rising at last to his feet, he dropped the covering and turned to an examination of the room in detail. A pearl handled re- volver, with one side of the pearl inlay cracked, lay on the,mantel over the fire- place. Craton broke the weapon and saw that but one chamber had been fired. Placing it to his nostrils, he drew a deep breath. — He went on about the room searching carefully for any signs which might aid him. At last he dropped into the chair before the desk, and, drawing the telephone to him, moved the hook up and down slowly. He failed to secure any response. Replacing the receiver, he drew open one desk drawer after another, and his brows contracted with the faintest expression of satisfaction. The contents of the drawers were in a disorderly condition showing that they had evidently been searched by some one. As he moved again about the room his searching glance noted a broken bit of plaster not a foot above the floor and be- tween the fireplace and the door leading into the side hall. He was down on his knees instantly. When he arose jhe passed about the davenport and paused on the threshold of the doorway behind it leading into a closetlike room some twelve feet in diam- eter, Just inside the door and to the left stood a small safe. To the right was a hand basin. On the farther side and beyond the basin stood a double-walled telephone booth more than twice the usual size. Craton’s glance once encompassing the room, he swung back the door to the booth. With a shrug he noted the large spring hinges which held the door closed and re- quired an unusual amount of strength to throw it open. — The booth contained a small table, upon which stood the instrument, and a chair. Gomicbooks=co