Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 935 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

The Ex-Newsboy Detective’s Chum. & ———___ _ —- eee al ——— See re “It is past making up now, that is cer- tain.”’ “And yet I can hardly believe it, in spite of the fact that it is here before my very eyes,” observed the clerk. “Wellstone was not the sort of fellow to do such a thing as this.”’ “He must have been out of his mind said Ambler. ‘Yes, he certainly must, with this thing so handy,” spoke the detective. He held up to view a revolver. “Where was it?’ asked Ambler. * Here in this drawer.” “Then you think—” “Tam puzzled why he should choose such a painful means of death, with this thing so near to hand. <A toueh of the trigger, and all would have been over with him in this world.”’ “It is strange, truly.” * Yes, it is more than strange. Another strange thing is, that there is no pencil to be found around. Are you quite sure that this is Mr. Wellstone’s writing, Mr. Ambler?’ ‘* Why, yes; 1 am quite sure it is his.” “Then what did he write it with? It was a black pencil, medium soft, I know, but where is it?’ ‘‘No telling where he has put it, sir. Maybe the words were not written in this room. But there is little use pondering over trifles; this terrible discovery must be made known.” “They are not trifles, to my way of thinking, Mr. Ambler.” “ And yet they are such, when compared with this gigantic horror here at our feet.” The detective now stooped and removed the cord from the dead man‘s hands and from around his neck, and examined it «closely. Next he looked at the neck of the dead man, then the hands. “Tt was not a suicide,” he deeided. ‘‘Not suicide?’ cried Ambler. “No.” “What then?’ “* A murder!” ‘*Good Heavens!” ‘‘J would sooner believe that than the other,” spoke the clerk. “ But what proof have you that it was a murder?” cried Ambler. “If you are right the murderer must be caught!’’ “‘He shall be caught, never fear,” said the detective, grimly. “Joe Phillips is not so easily fooled, and this fellow is not a deep enough calculator to escane me, once I get upon his track.” ‘‘But, the proof, the proof,’’ urged the young man, excitedly. “Convince me that Bob Wellstone was murdered, and I will go into this thing with you and devote all there is of me to **inging the murderer to the fate he deserves. But, surely you are mistaken, sir.” “ Why am I mistaken?’ “The door was locked on the inside—one thing.” “Plenty of room for escape by the tran- som over the door, or by the windows, sir.” The young man stepped to a window and looked out. “No one would risk his neck here,” he decided. “And what murderer would be so foolhardy as to run the risk of discoy- ery by trying to get out of the room by the transom ?” “A murderer is a man of risks, Mr. Ambler. ‘This fellow was deep and caleu- lating, but not enough so. He forgot to leave the pencil with which he wrote these words on the bottom of this letter. He would have taken this revolver, had ‘he ‘known it was where T found it—”’ “ Heavens! Can it be true that you are wight, and that Bob was murdered?” “Tt is eertain, Mr. Ambler, and it is our 7? , business to find the murderer and bring him to the fate he richly deserves.” Sut, is there no room for mistake, Mr. Phillips?” * Nonée,”’ ‘But the points you have mentioned are weak, sir. Have you nothing stronger to back up your assertion?” * Yes, I have more.” “What is it?” * Look at that mark on the’dead man’s throat.” I see. it.” ‘Made by: pulling the cord as tight as two human hands could pull it, you will admit.” ‘* Yes: as if the owner of the hands were desperately in earnest, and Bob was a fellow of great muscular strength.” “Well, look at the hands. Do you see any marks where the cord was drawn hard around either of them? In one hand the eord was wound from the palm over the back, too.’’ The young man was thoughtful. ‘‘T believe you must be right; he has been murdered,” he admitted. ‘Yes: I feel sure that I am right. No one intending to pull a cord with all his might would wind it that way.” ‘* “There is reason in what you say, sir.” “But, what was the motive?’ queried the clerk. “That remains to be discovered,” said Phillips. ‘Can you throw any light upon it, Mr. Ambler?” “Tam trying my brain now, sir, to think of some one who could have a motive in killing poor Bob, but I fail to find him. If it was murder, it must be a deep and mys- terious one, and I am afraid that I can be of little use to you, sir, when I could see none of these things which Dow seem so plain.” ‘T shall need little assistance, I think, Mr. Ambler, but I may call on you to get particulars concerning Mr. Wellstone’s ac- quaintances.” ) *“ And I shall be only too glad to give you every aid in my power.” “T believe you will, sir.” CHAPTER VI. WHAT WAS THE MOTIVE? Bob Buckle was a close observer. What was more, he was quick to learn, and was fast profiting by his association with a detective like Joe Phillips. He felt a glow of satisfaction when the detective drew attention to the manner in which the cord was wound around the dead man’s hands, for he had observed that himself. It was not the way he would have taken hold of a string to pull. Bob had innate detective talent, and he had ambition to become his employer's equal some day. All ready for anything that was required of him. he had stood silently by while the detective and the dark young man had been talking, and now Phillips asked him: ! "9 “Well, Bob, what do you think of it ‘Tt is a great case, sir, and we have got to wipe our specks and brush the dust out of our eyes.” ‘Do you observe anything?” “Yes, sir.” .‘ “What is it?’ “This chair. You see how close it stands behind the door—just lets the door open, and no more.’ sé Yes.” some one has stood upon it? | ‘Yes, I haye noticed them, Bob. What | ' more? Mr. Ambler, I have a youthful as- sistant here of whom IT am proud.” ‘“ As TIT think you have reason to’ be, sir, from what I see,” was the response, and | the young man had been paying close at tention to all that Bob had said. “There is some dust just by the door, sir, as if it had been pushed off from where it had collected. I think it is plain enough that somebody got out of the room by climbing through the transom,” “You are awake, Bob, sure enough. L noticed some of the same dust on the oul side when I was opening the door. Let us see.” | The detective stepped up on the chair and examined the transom. ‘* Yes, the dust is from here,”’ he said. “Then you have proof enough to con-! vince you that it was a murder, and nog suicide,”’ remarked Ambler, ‘* More than enough, sir.”2 “And what is to be done? “Find the murderer, of course, “Certainly. But I mean at first tell the police?’ * Why, I shall notify the police and the coroner, and let the law be set in mo- tion.”’ “And I can be of no immediate service, then ?”’ “No.” “Then I must go and call upon Mrs. Achterson. Poor woman! It has been a sad blow for her, for the death must have been sudden. I saw Luella—Miss Achter- son—only a few days ago, and she was then in good health.’ * Yes, it was a sad blow, indeed, and it has been made doubly sad,” “ By this occurrence—” ‘*No; I refer to something else.”’ “What? What more has happened to give her sorrow?” “Why, the body of her daughter is mys- teriously missing, sir.” ‘“* Missing ?’”’ 6 Yes,”’ Phillips stated the particulars briefly? “Great mercies!’ exclaimed Ambler. “What do you make of that, sir%”’ “Nothing as yet. I have merely given you the facts as they are. The lady is nearly crazed, as you can imagine.” “Indeed, the wonder is that she is not crazed quite. But your theory, sir. You surely must have a theory in respect to the matter, have you not? Who can have done so dastardly a thing?’ “TI have no theory yet, and I cannot answer your question. Can you suggest anything?” * Mrs. Achterson is wealthy 9?” ** Moderately so, I believe.”’ “Some desperate villains may have stolen the body to force money from her.” “Great Gowanus!” exclaimed Bob Buc- kle. “I wonder if that ain’t the secret of the whole business, boss?” “It is possible, Bob.” “ Well, I must go,” said Ambler, step- ping to the door. ‘Poor Bob!” with a last look at the dead man, “to meet a fate like this!” * Your address, before you go?" request- ed the detective. ‘‘ Ah, yes,” and it was given. “Do you know anything about that man?” asked the detective of the clerk, as soon as Ambler had gone out. * Not a thing, sir.” “ Ever seen him here before?” “* No.” “Did any one call on Wellstone last night?” ‘‘Impossible for me to say, sir. The night clerk might be able to tell you about ‘? i *? once, or , that” “Well, see those nail scratches where | ‘‘ Who is he, and where can I find him?” He was told. “Well, you may now leave me and my boy here alone for a time,” said Phillips. “T want to investigate thoroughly, and when I have done so you ean let in the police and set things in motion,”” : ‘ co , i i, : | V A ae