Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 6, 1923 — page 77: what you’re looking at

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

MARKED DOWN. ‘“‘ Very well indeed. He is an old friend.” “Is he a stockholder in your bank?” ‘“‘ He is—as he is in several other banks.” ‘¢ When did you last see Mr. Cavendish?” “T don’t see the bearing of your ques- tions—” : ‘* Answer, please.” ‘“ Cavendish called on a business matter at my bank office on yesterday morning.” ‘And the nature of this business?” ‘He asked for a list of the most deserv- ing charities.” ‘Was he a philanthropist?” ‘““Why—er—not exactly. He had some charities, I believe.” “He did not confide to you the reason for his request?” “Certainly not. But won’t you have done with your questions and let me go?” “You have evidently forgotten that I said the building is under police surveillance —the building and those in it.” “ But I know nothing about what has happened. Mr. Kent can easily swear to that. Certainly you won’t detain me unless I can be held as a material witness.” “It won’t be necessary to detain you longer, now, Mr. Shoreham, unless—”’ “Well?” he asked sharply. “Unless there 1s something highly sus- picious about the nature of your business here—unless it seems to have some bearing on what has happened. I must examine these papers.”’ Shoreham popped up like a jack-in-the- box. But something in the expression of the girl’s face caused him to sit down again resoundingly. ‘“‘TIt’s an outrage,” he said thickly. “It is necessary. I must overlook noth- ing. If the papers have no bearing on the affair, you have my word of honor that their contents shall not go beyond me.” Somewhat mollified, he waited as she stooped over the document-laden desk. Alertly her eyes traveled over the strewn contents. Little vertical lines penciled themselves between her straight brows as she became cognizant of the nature of the business interrupted there. For on the desk she beheld deeds of property transfer to the extent of ten thou- sand dollars, made out to one Ivette Mig- 859 nonne. And the deeds of transfer in the medium’s favor were made by Dorothy Cavendish! ee a ee CHAPTER X. AT BAY. HE amazing facts seared themselves upon her mind. Here was the presi- dent of the city’s oldest and most reputable bank obviously acting as proxy for Dorothy Cavendish, the daughter of his dead friend. And the man who had died so suddenly had only the day before named Amos Shoreham as executor in his will. This in- stantly presupposed the dead man’s full confidence in his cited executor. Yet on the day that he died, at the very time and in the same building, this man is in mys- terious cabal with Mr. Kent at the instiga- tion of the girl whom Cavendish has just disinherited for some extraordinary reason. And as the girl’s aunt hovers in unan- . nounced impatience in the Kent waiting room, highly important and mysterious deeds of transfer are in process behind the shut doors. Most incredible of all, the re- cipient of this considerable property is none other than the unknown medium, Mile. Mignonne! What was the significance of these deeds? What was the connection between disin- herited Dorothy Cavendish and the strange mystic who had come so recently and so strangely to the impeccable old Temple Building? For connection there must be. How else could such an act be explained? Who and what was the mysterious Mlle. Mignonne, and how did her life cross and enter that of the Cavendish family? Shoreham was reaching for his hat. “Now that you have presumed to acquaint yourself with the nature of these papers,” he began stiffly, “ perhaps you will let me go.” “TI cannot.” “T don’t understand you, Dr. Dayland. You just told me, gave me your word, that T could leave when your perusal proved my assertion that this confidential business cannot possibly interest you or the police.” COMiiclooe S ©