Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 148: what you’re looking at

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

138 Homes jumped to his feet with a nod. ‘IT want to say this much more to you, sheriff. Vrooman is a sick man. He faint- ed when I showed him I knew just what he had done. He collapsed twice while he was making his confession and went completely to pieces when he came to the end. I sent for his physician, and waited for his report. He told me Vrooman wouldn’t live a week; that his heart was in very bad shape. The man has been under a terrific strain for some time, fearing Sands’s power over him, while discovering Sands dead when he got to Brookmeadow pretty nearly shocked him to death. Now, with the knowledge that he is liable to be arrested—well, I don’t know. You better go to his physician first, I think. No telling, he may be beyond the law even now.” CHAPTER: XXY. THE ADDRESS ON THE ENVELOPE. RATON never stopped for dinner. He drove straight to Brookmeadow, sent in his card, and was with Mrs. Sands for half an hour. From Brook- meadow he drove to Marsh’s apartment, and an hour later was at his own rooms again. His face was set and hard now, such a Jook as. was seldom seen upon his features, He flung himself down in front of his desk and began to write. When he found he had finished he rang for his servant and dispatched him with a letter. Then he turned to the telephone. Three minutes later he was speeding away from the city in his car. When he drew up in front of the ram- bling old house by the winding lane Des- ton was watching for him, in response to Craton’s telephone call. “Well?” questioned Deston as Craton went into the room on the right of the little hall. He saw something vital was impending. There were harsh lines in Craton’s face, a look in his eyes that was anything but pleasant. Craton was never theatrical. He sat down quietly and looked at Deston. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “Have you any idea who killed Willet Sands?” he demanded. Deston shook his head. “ And yet you haven’t been frank with me,” growled Craton. ‘““T wasn’t at first. In the end—” “You were not in the end. You held back certain essential points. Deston, I am going to tell you. You can let Miss Thurston know. I’m not going to see her or Mrs. Sands again.” “What do you mean?” Slowly, painstakingly, Craton explained how James Sands met his death, giving in detail the facts confessed to by Vrooman and ended the statement with: “ He is dead—heart failure—died this afternoon.” Deston sat as if carved in stone, He had no words to utter and, too, he felt more was coming and he dreaded, somehow, the whole truth. Craton drew a deep breath. “TI told a man to-day that I knew the murderer. I told him how I made the discovery, al- though it wasn’t the truth. I said that the murderer came here in a car with nobby tread tires and that three of the nobs were gone from the tread of one of the rear tires. I had sneaked into his garage and sliced off three nobs. No harm if he wasn’t the one— the quickest way to make him confess if he was. “Inside of half an hour after I told him these facts he had changed the tires on his car. He gave himself away by that move. And yet I had enough to prove him guilty. I wrote him a letter, Deston. I had no right, but I had my own reasons for wishing to give him—”’ The telephone rang. Craton picked up the instrument. He listened for a moment and his eyes closed slowly as he answered: “I understand.” He hung up and sat down. that shot Willet Sands, Deston, is beyond the sheriff. He got my letter and he has made the one move. I hadn’t the right to give him that chance, but I did it.” His manner changed a little. “ Marsh called me into the case because Willet Sands had left instructions that if anything hap- pened to him I was to be retained. Did you know that?” oO GOMIGIOOKSECO “The man ©