The Black Mask — page 71: what you’re looking at

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

room when he entered. My chief rea- son for questioning you concerning the hour of the hold-up was to establish a limited area in which her ‘fence’ might be located. For I believe she employed a ‘fence.’ He may, really, be more guilty than she. And if we find him it may lead to a clearing of the whole mys- tery. I am beginning to sense a link between the robbery and the stabbing; and I’m glad, after all, that you didn’t allow me to arrest her last night. Now she can be watched. You know, young Knibbs, the musty old saying: murder will out.” Fleming was decidedly pale. “I think you do her an injustice,” he muttered. “That’s just-what I’m trying not to do. If she isn’t guilty of wrongdoing she deserves to be cleared in our sight. And if she is—” He left the rest to be inferred, and on the whole it carried a sinister meaning with the shadow of the dreaded “chair” looming in the background. IV : Knisss left his friend Dreer’s apart- ment in a depressed frame of mind. He felt that if his half-asleep girl proved as black as circumstances had painted her he could no longer entertain faith in humankind. Also, in this indigo mood, he nursed a slight resentfulness toward Dreer for casting additional suspicion upon her, and reflecting deprecatingly upon his deductive ability. He would show the old fellow. This affair wasn’t over yet. The truth was ‘still hidden from them. Thus steeped in his musings, and not fully realizing what he was doing, he signaled a pass- ing taxi. _ Within, he sat chewing the cud of his thoughts as the constricted city land- scape flashed by. a@ The Half-Asleep Girl _ Twenty minutes — stop, and heard the chauffeur’s voice, “Flere you are, sir.” He looked up. The taxi was stand- ing before the little grocery store which Dreer had described. Then Fleming Knibbs remembered that, with some vague idea of accumulating additional facts, he had ordered to be driven into Lola’s neighborhood. He paid the man and stood idly watching him drive away. He didn’t quite know what to do, where to begin. Uncertain as he was, he started to walk around the block, hoping a course would suggest itself. He passed the shabby De Brunner residence slowly. There was crépe on the door, and the worn green shades in the front room were drawn to a level with the slightly opened windows. At the next corner he swung to the right. Shortly he came to an alley lined with drunken fences and battered slop cans. On the impulse he entered it. He knew he would find the De Brunner backyard somewhere along_here. As to what he would do when he reached it he hadn’t the faint- est idea. There were two stout women in faded gingham house dresses and aprons standing at a gate directly be- hind De Brunner’s. As Knibbs neared them he caught snatches of their con- versation. They were talking of the tragedy. Fleming took his nerve in hand. “Pardon, ladies,” he interrupted. “TI understand there was a suicide in the neighborhood—”’ “You're right there was,” responded the more garrulous of the pair, appar- ently glad for the opportunity to air what she knew. “In that house there —right in front of you. They just moved in the other day, an’ now one of ’em’s gone a-ready. Stabbed his- d self. I heard the paralytic yell when ~ he did it. An’ then two men came run- nin’ out the back gate. ‘Somethin’s —