Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 6, 1923 — page 70: what you’re looking at

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

892 “T do not know—” “What do you mean by accenting know —that vou suspect or conjecture?” She nodded. “What gave you a hint as to the nature of his private conference?”’ “Mr. Cunningham rang for me just be- fore five.” ‘For what purpose?” “He asked me to witness Mr. Caven- dish’s signature.” “On what?” “Hadn’t you better ask Mr. Cunning- ham that?” ‘“‘T shall, and he will answer just as you must do now. What was the paper upon which you witnessed Mr. Cavendish’s sig- nature?” “It was a will.” “How do you know it was a will?” “IT know the blank form Mr. Cunning- ham keeps in his office.” “* Are you prepared to swear that it was a will?” The girl hesitated. ‘‘I—I am sure it was, but perhaps I ought not to swear.” Nancy nodded in approval. Margaret Seavers was acquitting herself well, very well. Her story was straightforward, con- vincing. “Did any one else witness that signa- ture?” ce Ves.” ‘Who was the other person?”’ ‘Mr. Winters was the other witness.” Just then a little tap came on the door. ‘“‘ That’s all now,”’ Nancy dismissed Mar- garet Seavers. As the girl left the office she was replaced by the little Frenchman, the department expert in criminal faces. “T am here, mademoiselle,”’ he an- nounced with all the politeness of the na- tive Parisian. “Please. M. Renaud,” Nancy enlight- ened him directly, “ go to an elevator and ring a bell. This is, of course, a mere sub- terfuge to cover your real reason for walk- ing by the settle. That reason is to study the first man on the right settle who is shabbily dressed and wears broken rubbers. His cap is pulled over his face. After you get a good look at him, you will apparently ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. think better of ringing for an elevator, ap- pear to change your mind and come back here. I want to know if you recognize the man.” Astutely the little Frenchman bowed and withdrew, closing the door behind him carefully. Nancy walked back and forth in the room. She was trying to get some order in her mind, there were so many things run- ning through it. The affair was a maze al- ready. There were the dying words of the man, seeming to confess to suicide; there was the extraordinary hatpin clenched in his left hand, and betonging to his daughter; there was Dr. Bainbridge’s testimony that Cav- endish was right-handed, and his further suggestion that the blow that ended his life very probably could not have been dealt with his own right hand. This presup- posed the hand of another, and thereby threw out the man’s dying words! Yet in the history of crime as in natural death, dying words are held solemnly true. But the man had scarcely entered the building, his chauffeur had hardly turned his back when Cavendish fell, mortally wounded. According to Billings the skulk- ing man had certainly had no time to enter the building after Mr. Cavendish, and then run back again to his peering position by the door. The body lay fully twenty feet from the door. What had happened had happened in the space of moments. Yet Billings, wheel- ing about at the sound of the muffled fall, had seen nothing suspicious—no sign of any one in the deserted corridor. At least, that was what he declared. Could there be any reason for his concealing something which he might have seen? His statement was yet to be corroborated by the stranger whom Nancy had not yet Interviewed. But throwing out for any reason as question- able the testimony of both the chauffeur and the unknown Graham, who could have had time to efface his presence so quickly, so effectively? Now, added to all these curious contra- dictory happenings, was intruded the sus- picious conduct of Miss Greenwood, the dead man’s sister-in-law, who had by her EO OO MMU (©