Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 288 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

Electro Pete, the Man of Fire. 3 speak. ‘You see, there could not have been any robbery intended, else they would not now be here.” She returned the jewelry to the bureau, now placing it in one of the drawers, however. The detective’s eyes were following her. He had made a singular discovery. The solitary diamond in the tiara was a coun- terpart, though larger, of the sample shown him by Dimble as one of those stolen. ‘“‘Dimble said they were all of one size, though,” he argued; “‘so this cannot have an possible connection with those he has lost, mere chance resemblance, I suppose,” Miss St, Dyer returned to her seat before em. ‘¢‘ But the third occasion of the mysterious in- trusion is what I now have to speak about par- ticularly,” she said, with her black orbs fixed on the men alternately. ‘‘I had retired last night as usual, when, as I half-expected, I heard the unmistakable sounds of some one moving about the chamber. Now, though I had lain awake after the first coming of the dark visitant, I in- variably fell into a doze preceding the knowl- edge that I was not alone. Thesame last night. I was aroused, and knew that there was another than myself in the apartment. ‘‘ But my previous nervousness had in a measure worn away; I leaped up, determined to solve the riddle. A few steps I took, when I came in contact with a form which I reasonably supposed to bea man. But at the very moment I grasped this form, and ere I could utter the shriek for help which was upon my lips, some- thing | happened which you may hardly be- eve, ‘* What was it?” ‘‘Suddenly, as by magic, I found myself em- bracing a column of glowing flame, in which was the outline of a man, and at the same time I received a shock as from an electric battery, which hurled me to the floor. When I recoy- ered froma condition of partial insensibility, and when I had strength to light the gas, all was in order and quiet as the grave, without the slightest trace of any one having been in my room. The door was securely locked on the in- side.” She paused. The detective and the hotel proprietor looked at one another in a way that showed they had similar thoughts. This thought: ‘‘The woman is given to the use of opium, perhaps. What she has been relating is the out- growth of the visions of the drug.” ‘What do you wish me to do, if anything?’ the detective asked. ; ‘¢- You will not let this remarkable thing drive ou from my house,” said the proprietor, who iked the beautiful guest and her prompt man- ner of paying bills. ‘‘ Not until I have found out what this ‘ singu- lar thing’ means,” she replied ly. Daniels saw that she was a girl of pluck, The proprietor drew a breath of relief. Between the diamond robbery and this mys- terious tale of Oriele St. Dyer’s, if both got out it would injure bim immeasurably. Again, as he had done in the room of the diamond drummer, Daniels looked about him. This room ned also on the high, flue-like preg in the center yard or court of the otel. There was no possible facility for anything human, or of the lower order of animal, to climb up to the window. ‘* Miss St. Dyer, have you any enemy that you know off” OM ‘“ Why do you ask?” **Because [ would also like to ask whether this man—and it seems to be a man—offered you any harm.” ‘* Not the slightest.” s Sy you cannot possibly imagine who it was ‘*f cannot possibly imagine what or who it could be, that they should be able to resolve themselves into a column of flashing flame.” This matter of the intruder having performed the incredible feat of melting into a column of flame caused the detective to almost doubt the sanity of the girl. He could not help bestowing upon her a keen glance which she noticed. are do you look at me in that way?” she asked. ‘* Because, Miss St. Dyer, we are not living in the days of the Arabian Nights, when such feats as he mention were performed at the will of genii. ; see: saw that he did not believe her state- ment. ‘“What I say is true, sir,” she declared, ina nettled tone, He merely bowed. , “What do you make out of it?’ the proprie- tor interrogated. ‘“‘IT am at a loss—for the present. Do you wish me to investigate this affair as well as the matter of the diamonds?” ‘‘Assuredly! My dear sir, my house will suffer if such occurrences are not stopped.” ‘**T will see you again,” Daniels said, shortly. “ You did not arrange with Mr, Dimble what ae your reward was to be if you recovered the diamonds,” reminded the other. The detective gave him a severe look; but it was too late. Miss St. Dyer asked quickly: ‘* Has there been a robbery committed in this hotel?” The two men saw that she was scenting so close that it would be useless to try to conceal the fact from her. Making the best of the mis- fortune caused by the proprietor’s hasty speech, Daniels said: P * A slight affair, yes—” ‘“* But you remarked. something about recover- ing diamonds. Have any diamonds been lost?’ She appeared to be even persistent. ‘* Yes, miss, some diamonds have been lost.” She would have put further questions, but with some abruptness Daniels left ber. The proprietor followed into the entry. ‘Mr, Daniels, I sincerely trust that you will endeavor your best to unravel both of these mysteries—especially the one this young lady is excited about. What do you think of the idea she has, that the man turned into a column of flame?” ‘* That it is simply ridiculous.” ‘* What can be the cause of her belief?” ‘* Have you noticed anything unusual about her actions since she has heen a guest here?— here, I mean,” and he tapped his forehead sig- nificantly. ** Oh, to the contrary. I have been impressed with the fact of both her beauty and intelli- gence.” Immediately upon uttering the words, the proprietor added: «é Sh )? A peculiar looking party was approaching along the ar: A tall and slender man attired in a full suit of glossy black, whose footsteps made scarcely any sound upon the carpet, seeming to glide over the soft texture at a rapid rate and with no effort. His face was of a striking mold, with its skin of waxy whiteness, prominent nose, over the lips a mustache of raven hue that was long and terminating in twirled ends. His hair, also ng black, was long and wavy, -reaching down on the shoulders carelessly. But the eyes, most of all, were the item about him which puzzled the bebolder, Black as jet were they, brilliant and pons restless and roaming, reflecting a mind that would baffle the reader Of faces in an attempt to solve the character of the owner, And as the detective covertly glanced more particularly at the eyes—bis habit when looking at a strange face always—something seemed to impress him forcibly. ‘Where have I seen those eyes before?’ passed perplexingly in bis brain. And then, as suddenly: ‘‘ Ah! [ have it, I think!” Just such eyes—black, large, lustrous to the contrary of what the full black eye usually is— he had noted in Miss St. Dyer, a few minutes ye passed th ith a bow of e em, with a bow of re- cognition to the proprietor, and with the bow a smile that a se teeth as white and regular as ever were the boast of a ball-room belle. “Who is it?” Daniels asked. ‘He? Oh, that is the Italian professor. * Professor of what?” ‘Music. He came to live at the Mansion about three days ago, and says he is endeavoring to establish a class in the city, without looking further north.” . ™ They walked off along the entry and descend- ed the staircase, Hardly were they out of sight, when the man a as the professor appeared suddenl at the corner of the distant angle in the corri- dor and looked after them. The same smile—the half grin—whbich had been on his white face when he saluted the pro- prietor, was on it now, and he toyed with the ends of his long mustache as he came back along the entry, pausing at the door of Miss St. Dyer’s room, or a few seconds he remained with his black eyes fixed upon the turn beyond which was the staircase, and he nodded his long-haired head in a strange way. CHAPTER III, A STRANGE VISITOR AT THE AGENCY, WHILE these scenes were transpiring at the hotel, another scene was in progress at the ponene which Daniels had so shortly before eft. Within a few minutes after the-departure of | the famous detectives in answer to the sum- mons from the hotel proprietor, a visitor enter- ed the Agency and asked for the chief. ‘Not in just now, sir. But if you will be ee for a few moments, I think he will be ere. ‘* Thank you, I will wait.” The caller, was the same whom we have seen a little prematurely gliding along the corridor of the hotel, and who was designated by the proprietor as the Italian professor, +: 4 He appropriated a chair and leaned lazily back in it, to await the return of the chief for whom he had particularly inquired, The jetty brilliant eyes were roaming restlessly around the office. The senior member of the firm presently ap- peared. And as he was pointed out by the clerk, the professor arose and advanced saying, in remark- ably good English for an Italian: ‘You, sir, are the chief of the detectives?” ‘* Of this private firm—yes. Can I be of ser- vice to you?’ ‘‘Perhaps. I would bave a word with you.” ‘‘Step this way, then.” And as he led the way to the back room, the senior was impressed with the singular counte- nance of the man. ‘‘T have, I think, a most remarkable case to relate,” said the English-tongued Italian, when they were seated. ** What is it, sir?’ “ A case of murder and robbery.” ‘‘ Rather common cases, both, nowadays.” ‘* But this particularly.” The detective remained silent, waiting for his visitor to come out.” ‘*T am, sir, an Italian. But I have traveled much, and am the master of many languages. Ten years ago, in my native land | was mixed up ina grand crime—as a sufferer, mind you. I will give you the outline of it. I shall take a little of your time, if you can spare it; for I tell you that I wish to engage you upon an intri- cate matter which is now the outcome of that crime.” ** Proceed.” ‘There lived, at the date I mention, at the Italian capital, a very worthy family of some means, named Catazky. Pedro Catazky was the son of Italian and Russian parents—at this time a man of family, with one daughter, then not over twelve years of age, surely, Catazky had accumulated considerable wealth. He dis- covered that his daughter, Anice Catazky, had become deeply enamored, even at her tender age, of a menial in her father’s household. Of course, as you will imagine, this occasioned much trouble. Catazky bad astormy talk with his child, who further enraged ber father by the announcement that not only did she love the fellow, but they were already married by the indissoluble ceremony of tbe priest. ‘‘In the ending of the interview, Catazky utterly disinherited the love y Anice and ordered her from bis house, telling her to seek the low {fellow she had accepted im preference to a fond father’s love. Ab—and the professor made a shrugging gesture—‘‘ had she but simp- ly done assbe was told to do by that angry patess, all would have been well; for her hus- nd, though indeed no mate for her—reared in luxury and educational advantage as she had been—would have continued to adore her and make for her a very devoted partner, But Anice Catazky was of a fiery nature for a child —ghe c.uld hardly be called more than this, though a wife. he was given twenty-four hours in which to take herself away. itbin that time happened the strange crime 1 am about to disclose, “ Quite early on the following morning, the lice were notified that Pedro Catazky had n found dead in bis bed, and that an investi- gation was desired, because he had been known to be as nearly in perfect health as a man could . The police and the doctors both were brought in. And the very first person who laid a hand on the body of the dead man fell over as if he was himself stricken with death. Another touched the corpse a moment later, but was not similarly affected, There was, you see, agrave mystery surrounding the. death of the man Catazky, eh?’ The Italian’s eyes contained a peculiar glit- ter as be paused,in this half-inquiring way, gazing intently at the otber. ‘‘Some mystery, it must be admitted,” as- sented the detective. The Italian continued: ‘‘An examination of the body showed that nearly all the organs were in a strange state of paralysis. But all the skill of the pozecians was baffled by the case. No one could tell what had caused the death of Pedro Catazky. Mean- while, the daughter, Anice, had disappeared. Sbe was searched for everywhere that she would likely be; she could not be found. Then came a rumor that the quarrel of the father and the daughter—which had been unfortunately overbeard by some of the servitors—had some- thing to do with the death of Pedro Catazkv. Her absence at the time gave an impetus to this. conjecture. as it not cruel that the daughter should be suspected of so horriblea crime?” and again he looked strangely into the face of the attentive detective. ‘Yes, it was cruel.” ‘‘ But, mark you; there was one who knew, in that city, that Anice Catezky must indeed be guilty of the crime of her father’s death, . And while the authorities were looking into the mat- ter suspiciously, because she was her father’s heiress—he having died thus suddenly before pore had time to alter his wi!l so as to dis- inheri aitace O mil 9 chooks:cor —_——«