Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 13, 1923 — page 78: what you’re looking at

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

The official raised his eyebrows, but did not appear to be overwhelmed by this star- tling announcement. “Are you giving yourself up on that charge, by a voluntary confession? Because in that event [I must warn you that what- ever you say may be used against you as evidence.” “Yes, I know. that perfectly. And cer- tainly I am not making a confession of mur- der. I say | may have done it, but if I have, I have no recollection of such a— such a monstrous act. I had left my ciga- rette case behind and went back to fetch it. It was probably my ring which the butler heard. The dead woman, who was known to me as the Marchesa di Trevi, came to the door herself. I remember speaking to her. J have now a vague rec- ollection: that she asked me to wait while she went upstairs to fetch my case. Inch by inch my memory has crept back to that point. The next thing | remember is being on the Thames Embankment at dawn, with a damaged head.” He went on, gaining a little confidence as he proceeded. The secretary took it down, and it seemed to Dick Ardell that the sound of his own voice, challenging the silence of that gruesome room, was a terri- ble thing. _ Every now and then Inspector Lewis in- terrupted with a question. ‘You believe that somebody picked your pocket?” “Yes. I can account for the loss of the pendant in no other way.” ‘““Yet you have it here?” _ Dick had produced the jeweled cross, to- gether with the case it had acquired and his own visiting card. _ He told how it had come back into his possession. _ “Somebody sent it te Miss Harland,” he said. ‘“ She thought it was I. I let her believe that it had been sent by mis- take. In fact, she jumped to the conclusion that I had really intended it as a present for some one else. You see, it is my visit- ing card.” ‘And your handwriting?” the inspector _asked. “You must judge of that for yourself,” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Ll will Dick replied. “ Or experts must. copy down what is written.” He did so, and was pleased to observe that his hand did not tremble perceptibly. Inspector Lewis examined the two speci- mens and pursed his lips. “This is a very characteristic fist, Mr. Ardell,” he observed. Curious that he should have hit upon that word. ‘At my school—Clavering—it was called the Ledbury fist,” Dick explained nervous- ly. ‘ Ledbury, our old housemaster, inaug- urated the style, but no one ever quite achieved his precise perfection.” “You mean that quite a lot of other men have adopted this method? It is more like printing than ordinary handwriting.” “Yes. It was old Ledbury’s theory that modern handwriting had degenerated, and that legibility should be the first aim of chirography. His own writing had almost a Greek form—I mean as regards neatness. It was very small. My own, if you notice, is smaller than the writing on my card. Mr. Creigh, who was also at Clavering, writes even more loosely than this forgery.” ‘Oh, Mr. Creigh was at your school?” c¢ Yes.”’ “I see. And you say that Mr. Creigh can corroborate some of this evidence?” “Yes. He was present when I found the pendant had been taken from my pocket, and he was also present when I got it back from Miss Harland.” ‘And Mr. Creigh made up the story of how you were injured?” ‘“ Well—yes. You see, I was not myself at the time—”’ ‘““A Dr. Thatcher you mentioned, who at- tended you?” <4 Ves.”’ ‘“ Was he your own doctor?” “No. Mr. Creigh’s.” “IT see. And you have no idea, Mr. Ar- dell, who put the pendant into your pocket, who took it out again, and who sent it, with your card and an inscription, to Miss Harland?” “ No, I haven’t.” ‘You cannot account for this case, or for the card?” “ No, J cannot.” EORMNICLOOOKS (E@)