The Argosy, Christmas 1912 — page 220: what you’re looking at

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

206 you delayed a trifle longer than you in- tended? ”’ “And the motive for all this? ” “Ah, the motive!” McConnell frowned. “There, you've got me. Still any one who has had extensive dealings with criminals knows that an adequate motive is often the hardest thing to find.” The student considered the propo- sition thoughtfully, as though it were an abstract question, in no way affect- ing him; then he slowly shook his head. ‘Too far-fetched a theory, commis- sioner,’ he announced. “It would argue that the young woman and I must have been confederates.” “And why not?” questioned Mc- Connell. “ You were at least old ac- quaintances.” ‘Old acquaintances?’’ The quick surprise of Ramsdell’s protest was an admirable piece of acting if feigned. “Why, I never saw the girl before in all my life.” “You did not recognize her then last night?” “Certainly not.” “Nor learn her name? ” “Up in the fire was hardly a place to wait for introductions,” observed Ramsdell dryly; “ and. afterward they hustled me off to the hospital so quick that I had no opportunity of seeing her.” “Yet one would have expected you to know each other, since she is an old fellow townswoman of yours.” “An old fellow towswoman? ” “Yes; from Tenallytown, Maryland. She is Sylvia Felix, Mr. Poe’s libra- rian.” “So?” The information did not appear especially to interest him. “ We have both probably changed a good deal since I saw her last. I have not been to Tenallytown in several years.” The commissioner fell silent for a space, meditatively puffing at his cigar. “Don’t you think it a little strange,” he queried at length, “ that you should not have taken the trouble even to in- quire the name of the girl whose life THE ARGOSY. you had saved, or ask any questions in regard to her? ”’ “ Oh, I don’t know,” rejoined Rams- dell carelessly. “I could see that she hadn't sustained any damage to speak of, so what was the use of asking about her? Some fellows would have fol- lowed up the affair, I suppose; but then I’m not what would be called a lady’s man. “TY think, Mr. Commissioner,” he concluded, “ youll have a hard time trying to trace up any connection be- tween me and that young woman, or any other young woman.” ‘You absolutely repudiate the sug- gestion then,’ queried McConnell with his teasing smile, “that your re- markable performance of last night was the clever trickery of a crook?” Ramsdell merely looked his con- tempt. “The theory hasn’t a leg to stand on,” he said. “You set up as a wizard, eh?” “No, I am simply an unofficial at- taché of the police department.” - “ And what explanation has the un- official attaché of the police department to offer for the mystery? ” *“ None.” “ That is another of his little secrets, I suppose? ” Ramsdell nodded. ‘And now, Mr. Commissioner,” he said, rising, “if you’ve nothing further to ask me, I guess I’d better be getting down to business. Do you still want me to work on the Poe case? ”’ “Why not? You haven’t cleared. it up yet, have you?” “No; but if Brady’s theory is cor- rect, and Miss Felix stole the Wickliffe Bible, it would be a waste of time to search further for the book. It must have been destroyed with the rest of her belongings in last night’s fire.” “What do you think?” “ Well, with all due respect to Brady, I believe I had better continue my 1n- vestigations.” McConnell did not seem dissatisfied with the decision. CoOMmicbook CO