Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 4 — page 39: what you’re looking at

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

HOW MANY CARDS? remonstrance. .“ Think well what you are doing. If Eugene were really—er—mur- dered I am sure the inspector is fully capable of finding the guilty man. These private detectives are always looking for press notices, and the notoriety will be hideous. Do you realize?” ‘I realize everything, Uncle George, and my mind is made up,” Mrs. Creveling re- plied with a quiet finality of tone whioh brooked no further opposition. “I do not imply that the police department is inca- pable of handling this—this crime, but I want to feel that I myself am leaving no stone unturned to discover by whose hand my husband came to his death. If the in- spector will give you his number I wish you would go and call up Mr. Terhune yourself “for me. Tell him to name his own price, anything, but to come immediately as I am anxious to consult him. When Mr. Alexander, accompanied By the inspector, had retired to the study upon his reluctantly assumed mission, McCarty stepped forward, with one eye still on the valet, and coughed deferentially. ‘‘ 1’m the special deputy Inspector Druet put on this case with himself, ma’am. McCarty’s my name. Is there any one else you want sent for? Any relative or friend, I mean?” | Once more Mrs. Creveling shook her head. “Neither Mr. Creveling nor I have any relative beside my uncle, Mr. Alexander,,’ she responded. ‘‘ My maid will follow on the next train from Long Island, and the butler and cook will probably return at . any momeént now, as I was expected home this morning, in any event. I do not want my friends about me. I want to be alone, to think.” ; To think, but not to grieve. One look at that stern countenance, as immobile as that of some goddess carved in marble, would have shown to-far less astute eyes than McCarty’s that Myra Creveling would permit no breakdown, no unleashing of her emotions until her dominating purpose was achieved. That she had jumped so hastily to the conclusion her husband had been murdered pointed to the probability that she also strongly suspected the identity of 3A 545 the murderer, but it would be futile to question her on that score at the present moment. “Of course that’s only natural, ma’am.” McCarty spoke soothingly. “Still, I’m sure you'll be wanting to give us all the help you can, and every minute counts now. In a case like this, where we’ve got practi- ‘cally no clue and nothing to go on, we'll have to find out what we can from Mr. Creveling’s friends. I believe you said that Mr. Waverley was not at Broadmead last night. Were any other of your friends there? Mr. Alexander mentioned a Mr. and Mrs. O’Rourke, a lady named Culp or Kip—” ‘Oh, they are in our set, of course, but none of them were at Broadmead,” Mrs. Creveling interrupted. ‘“‘ There was no house party; I was just visiting there quietly for a few days.” “Where was Mr. Waverley last night? Was he expected out at his home?” “No, he was at one of his clubs, I sup- pose. He telephoned out before dinner that he would be detained in town over night. Mrs. Waverley and I were alone at Broad- mead with the servants.” She paused and then spoke in a quickened tone. “ Mr. McCarty, you said just now that you had ‘no clues. If my butler and cook have been away since yesterday, who was the man who summoned my uncle and the woman who telephoned to me? If those calls could be traced I should think you would have a very real clue to :material witnesses at least.” . McCarty nodded gravely. ‘We may be able to learn their identity, ' though ’twill be no easy matter; they might have phoned from pay-stations, you know, ma’am. ‘Tis unlikely that either of them was the murderer, if murder was done. Mr. Alexander must have been‘called up after four o’clock, and you say the message came to you a little before five. Now, Mr. ,Creveling’s body was discovered a few minutes past two, and, according to the opinion of the medical examiner, he must have been dead an hour before that; plenty of time, you see, for the murderer to have got clean away. Does the Waverley’s but- ler know your cook?” Orion ginal fro eo! G O STATE L =) THE OH NOOK CO