Argosy All-Story Weekly — 'The Metal Monster' — page 128: what you’re looking at

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

122 she was more stupid than the average, that she didn’t know she’d be caught!”’ Mrs. Creveling shrugged. “TI can only give you the facts, Mr. Mc- Carty.” “She denied everything, and stuck to her story when she was accused?” “Naturally. I cannot imagine from what source she managed to obtain the cash bail which her lawyers produced; they claim it was In a package delivered to their office-boy, together with typewritten anonymous imstructions as to the use to which it was to be put, and the boy cor- roborated them, but he was unable or un- willing to describe the messenger except in such a vague and general way that his statement was practically worthless. After she was released on bail the woman sim- ply disappeared and nothing has been heard of her or the emeralds.” ‘“‘ She did not have time to get them out of the house,”” McCarty remarked medita- tively. ‘‘ Was a thorough search made?”’ “She had ample time to slip them to some confederate at the tradesmen’s en- trance,” Mrs. Creveling retorted. “ Yvonne had Ween ill for several days and Ilsa had been taking her place in attendance on me; she knew that the emeralds were in the house, and that I intended to wear them that night, and she had probably laid her plans well in advance and only awaited her opportunity. The house was utterly ran- sacked by the detectives and every one in the household submitted to a personal search. You will, however, find all the de- tails of the evidence in the police record of the case. I confess I cannot understand what bearing this could have upon the mat- ter you are investigating.”’ Her eyelids were drooping in spite of her efforts to keep awake, and McCarty rose. “I won't trouble you any longer now, ma’am. There’s just one more question I'd like to ask you; why did you go down- stairs and leave the girl Ilsa there, with your jewel case on your table?” “T must have forgotten it for the mo- ment,” Mrs. Creveling admitted drowsily. ‘“‘ My private telephone in my boudoir was temporarily out of commission, and Rollins os ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. came to tell me that some one had called me on the one down-stairs. Mr. Creveling has another private wire in his own apart- ments, so there are extensions to the main house phone only m the guest rooms. Rol- lins went immediately into the dining-room and I heard him talking to the footman while they arranged the table for dinner, as I was returning to my apartments.” “Thank you, ma’am. I guess that about covers the information I was after.” Mc- Carty turned to her companion. ‘“ Mrs. Waverly, what time did your husband tele- phone out to you this morning?”’ Her long, narrow eyes opened, but she betrayed no other sign of surprise as ske replied indifferently: “Some time between eight and nine o'clock, I believe. I really didn’t notice particularly, but it was an unearthly hour.” “ Did you know he was staying at the Belterre over night, ma’am?” McCarty per- “Well, upon my word!” she drawled. “Am I to be cross-examined now? I must confess I de not follow you, my goed man!” McCarty reddened. “ Tis not of importance,” he said has- tily. “I was just wondering, if you knew Mr. Waverly was there why you hadn't called him up earlier and told him that an accident had happened to Mr. Creveling, and Mrs. Creveling on her way in to town all alone.” “I did not accompany Mrs. Creveling to the city because she was ready to start when I was awakened; she did not even wait for her maid as the motor car was at the door,” Mrs. Waverly explained. “Yvonne followed on the first train, and I came in on the nine twenty.” “T see.” McCarty looked around to re- trieve his hat and found the little French maid at his elbow. “ Thagk you. I won't be bothering either of you ladies any fur- ther now. Good afternoon, ma’am.”’ He was turning toward the door when Mrs. Creveling halted him with an imperi- ous gesture. “J have answered your questions. Have you nothing to tell me?”’ she asked. “ Have you no clue yet to the identity of the per- son who took my husband’s life?” ecomrniclacclks co wo