Argosy, Vol. 147, No. 1 — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

~ - - a agi tapiegetige oF Sc Gach: yet it a Fe niscsned an interest, indeed, for Geoffrey Peters, the stonemason. a _ CHAPTER I. ‘ tOW DID HE DIE?” HE bluff, hearty voice which replied T to Mrs. Cayley over the wire was un- like the suave, professionally sympa- thetic ones of the fashionable city physi- cians to whom she had been accustomed; but when she announced her identity and the purport of her call it rang with a note of unstudied human feeling. “Your brother, you say, Mrs. Cayley? Died suddenly? I know Mr. Benkard by sight, of course. Shocked to hear it! I'll be over right after—” “You don’t understand, doctor,’ Mrs. Cayley interrupted in her tensely repressed tones. “ Mr. Benkard was injured in some manner during the night, no one seems to know how. It is in your official capacity that I have called you at the suggestion of the local carpenter and mason who happens to be working here for me. My brother— his death was not a natural one.” “Ah, I see! In that case I will come at once. Please make sure that nothing is disturbed until I get there, and tell Geoff Peters to wait. That’s the man you mean, isn’t it?” The kindly voice had crisped with per- emptory authority, and Mrs. Cayley replied swiftly: “ Yes.’’ “Tell him to give you any assistance you may need in keeping every one away from the body till I reach you, which will be in less than twenty minutes. Good-by.” The instrument clicked abruptly, and after hanging up the receiver Mrs. Cayley stood for a moment lost in thought. Great tremors were shaking her whole body, but into her dry eyes a feverish glitter had come, and a furrow of indecision grew and pened between her brows. At last she _ took the receiver down again and called a . aa York Cig, » “ es: AB ov) E SUS. telephone stood. The Eo De! tude of the profession nal interic was everywhere in eviden ce; bi dor, carelessly left open before ing a certain brand of cigar with a - ly flamboyant label, the hewspape 3 0! previous evening crumpled a and cast a the cunningly concealed cellaret! doors now swinging idly ajar, e 608 and motor gloves forgotten upon the tc the tall bookcase where their ¢ bs: , placed them on entering only a short hours earlier—all these trifling, silent 1 nesses to a living human presence mad ghastly tableau in the patio seth figment of a disordered dream. Mrs. ley set her lips more firmly, and ¥ 7 sleepy masculine voice came at last t ) Bs ears in reply to her call, her own were under the same iron control as b efor 2, I have frightful news for you, anc must tell you quickly. Joe is jeadi” A sharp, inarticulate cry answered ng though she had struck the man an une <- pected physical blow, and she went on ra idly: a “Carp iound him this morning in the patio. It must have happened soon aiter you started back to town last night. authorities are on their way here now, al I thought, as the most intimate frien: d ¢ the family, you should be notified,” Sa “0 Fe “ But good God! You don’t mean—” All traces of sleep had vanished f om te > voice now, and it was strident with 2 ho TC s “He wasn’t—murdered?” ; Eo bir Mrs. Cayley flinched at the wor Le ee “It may have been an accident of se some kind, but his head has been territ ly ¢ ( —I can’t say any more! No: one k no one heard anything—” ‘IT understand, I—God! I've ne such a shock!” There was a fj then the voice went on: “I'll be out, ¢ course, just as quick as the car car = uk it; but in the meantime, isn’t there * 0 thing I can do for you here in tov woe attorneys ought to be molten ae nme tia’ Tell Mr. AD-