The Argosy — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

202 THE ARGOSY. of the tenants. Miss Seaford had roomed on the fourth floor. I stopped on the landing of the third to converse with a Mrs. Oldfield, who had a daughter employed in a wholesale millinery house. Anybody going down the stairs after the elevator had ceased running would be obliged to pass her door, ‘‘ No, I did not notice any one going down that night, that I can remem- ber,’’ she said. ‘Did you hear any footsteps during the night?’’ I asked. ‘No, but come to think, my daughter was out at a party that night, and on the way home with her young man, who always comes up stairs with her when it is late, I heard her say they passed Dr. Throck on the stairs. But of course he was on his professional business.’’ I visited the young lady and questioned her, eliciting the same informa- tion ina roundabout way, being careful not to leave any impression that Dr. Throck was under suspicion in the matter. Impressed by the fact that up to this time every visit to the Baxter Building had resulted in additional information, I walked back to the place again. It was a large apartment house of the better class, situated in a respectable locality, having every convenience for light housekeeping. ‘The rear end of it ran back to an alley, and, as usual, was not as prepossessing as the front. I took a short cut on this occasion and reached the building by way of the alley, just in time to see the janitor stoop to pick up a shining weapon from the filth and ashes of the refuse bin. The idea flashed upon me at once that the murderer in making his escape by the rear exit had thrown his revolver into the ash receiver on his way out. “Let me look at that, Nolan,’’ I commanded. He passed it over. It was dirty, but in good order. I examined it care- fully and noted the initials ‘‘H. T.’’ upon the handle. ‘‘ Henry Throck,’’ I thought to myself, as I placed it in my pocket. ‘‘TIs there anything new ?’’ I asked. ‘‘ Nothing new,’’ he grumbled, evidently sorry to so quickly lose his find. I visited the chief and laid all the additional evidence before him: the half written letter, Dr. Throck’s presence in the building at three in the morning, and the revolver with the initials upon the handle. One chamber of the weapon was empty and it was a 34, the same size cartridge as that found imbedded in the heart of Bella Seaford. ‘“That’s good work, Bright,’’ the chief remarked. ‘‘ Did no one in the building hear the shot ?’’ ‘Not that I can learn,’’ ITanswered. ‘‘ Two suites of rooms next 47 are unoccupied, and it is a corner apartment in the building.”’ ‘“'That’s clever work on your part, Bright,’’? he repeated. ‘‘I think you may safely take your man m now.”’ CHAPTER IV.—THE ARREST AND WHAT FOLLOWED. I wAS anxious to distinguish myself in this matter I must confess, and taking a trusty officer in plain clothes with me, I proceeded at once to the hospital. (E(0) comicbooks