The Argosy, Vol. 90 No. 1 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

10 ‘“‘ Come in here, inspector,” said the doc- tor from the dining-room door. From that moment the whole aspect of the house seemed to change. No longer a gay little bijou residence, it became a court of justice. The two men were stationed at the street. door and the area door below. ters was notified of details. was summoned, and for the moment we were all under detention. ‘“Where is Miss Van Allen? Where is the lady of the house?” asked Mason. ‘““Where are the servants? Who is in charge here?” Was ever a string of questions so impos- sible of answers? Dr. Remson told the main facts, but he was reticent. I, too, hesitated to say much, for the case was strange indeed. Mrs. Reeves looked gravely concerned, but said nothing. Ariadne Gale began to babble. didn’t know how to be quiet. “IT guess Miss Van Allen is up-stairs,” she volunteered. ‘‘ She was in the dining- room, but she isn’t herc now, so she must be up-stairs. Shall I go and see?” “No!” thundered the inspector. “ Stay where you are. Search the house, Breen. I'll cover the street door.” The man he called Breen went up-stairs on the jump and Mason continued: “Tell the story, one of you. Who is this man? Who killed him?” As he talked, the inspector was examin- ing Somers’s body, making rapid notes in a little book, keeping his eyes on the door, and darting quick glances at each of us, as he tried to grasp the situation. I looked at Bert Garrison, who was per- haps the most favored of Miss Van Allen’s friends, but he shook his head; so I threw myself into the breach. “Inspector,” I said, “ that man’s name is Somers. Further than that I know noth- ing. He is a stranger to all of us, and he came to this house to-night for the first time in his life.” ‘“‘How’d he happen to come? Friend of Miss Van Allen?” ‘He met her to-night for the first time. He came here with—”’ I paused. It was so Headquar- That girl The coroner . THE ARGOSY. hard to know what to do. Steele had gone home. Ought I to implicate him? “Go on—came here with whom? truth, now.” ‘““T usually speak the truth,” I returned The shortly. ‘“He came with Mr. Norman Steele.” ‘‘ Where is Mr. Steele?” “He has gone. There were a great many people here, and naturally some of them went away when this tragedy was discov- ered.” ‘““Humph! Then, of course, the guilty party escaped. But we are getting nowhere. Does anybody know anything of the man but his name?” Nobody did; but Ariadne piped up: “ He was a delightful man. He told me he was a great patron of art and often bought pictures.” Paying little heed to her, the inspector was endeavoring to learn from the dead man’s property something more about him. “No letters or papers?” he said, disap- pointedly, as he turned out the pockets. “Not unusual—in evening togs—but not even a card or anything personal; looks queer.” ““Look in his watch,” said Ariadne, bri- dling with importance. Giving her a keen glance, the inspector followed her suggestion. In the back of the case was a picture of a coquettish face, un- doubtedly that of an actress. It was not carefully fastened in, but roughly cut out and pressed in with ragged edges. ‘“Temporary,” grunted the inspector, “and recently stuck in. Some chicken he took out to supper. He’s a clubman, eh?” “Yes, Mr. Steele said so, and also vouched for his worth and character.”’ I resented the inspector’s attitude. Though I knew nothing of Somers, and didn’t altogether like him, yet I saw no reason to think ill of the dead until circum- stances warranted it. Further search brought a thick roll of money, some loose silver,.a key-ring with seven or eight Keys, eye-glasses in a silver case, handkerchiefs, a gold pencil, a knife, and such trifles as any man might have in his pockets, but no directly identifying piece of property. comicbool< CO