The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1892-04-06
CHAPTER vi.

nose and buStle, everything ID compare
lively silent in this crescent. Milk-carts
are the most frequent vehicles. and oc-
casionally q rakish-l looking hanson
makes it's appearance, while ragged men.
dicants sometimes pay the neighborhood
visit and troll out lively ditties in gin.
ger.cracked voices. The organ grinder
is not an unknown parsonage either, and
his internal machine may frequently be
heard playing the latest music hall melo-
dies as he glances round in search OF the
humble brown.
There are a good many boarding houses
to be found in Primrose Crescent, where
city clerks, literary aspirants, and COM
ing actors are to be found. A touch OF
Bohemianism pervades the whole street,
and perhaps in the future neat tablets let
into the walls of the houses will inform
posterity that Horatio Muggins, the cele-
brated poet, and Simon Mephison, the
famous actor, resided there. But fame
is as yet far from the quiet street. and
the dwellers therein are still struggling
upward or downward, as their inclina-
tions may lead them.
Mrs. Mulgy was the landlady of one of
these boarding houses, and by dint OF
hard work and incessant watchfulness
managed 10 keep the wolf from the door;
but, alas, the wolf was never far off, and
it took all Mrs. Mulgy's time to keep him
at his distance. The basement OF her
mansion was devoted to the kitchen. the
presiding deity of which was pale, thin
looking servant, with hungry eye and
deprecating manner, who answered to
the name of Rondalina, which sounded
we'll and cost nothing.
1t was about IL o'clock and Myles Des-
mond sat in his sitting room scribblln9
an article for society journal, called
AsmoSeus, published for the express pur.
pose of unroofng peoples houses and
exposing to the world their private life.
Not that Desmond did such thing, he
would have scorned to violate the sane
tity of private life, but he wrote for all
kinds of magazines and papers, and as
Asmodeus paid we'll, he now and then
wrote them a smart essay on existing
evils, or cynical social story.
He was tall young man, with reddish
hair and mustache, q clever. intellectual
face, perhaps not actually good-looking,
but q face that attracted attention, and
when he chose to exert himself he could
talk excellently on the current topics of
the day. His breakfast lay on the table,
untouched, he having only swallowed
cup of coffee and then pushed the table
cloth aside to make room for his papers.
Myles looked worn and haggard, as il
he had been up all night, and every now
and then his swift pen would stop as he
pondered over some thought. There was
ring at the bell below, but he took no
notice. This was followed shortly after.
ward by knock at the door, and Ronds.
lima glided in, saying gentleman wished
to see him.
SHOW him in, said Myles, not looking
up. Wonder who it car be?" he mutter.
ed, as Rondalina went out; hang those
fellows, they won't even let me have the
morning to myself.
When the door opened he glanced up
and saw that the new conner was not
friend, but tall, gray man whom he did
not know. Myles paused with his pen ID
his hand, and waited for his visitor to
speak, looking at him interrogatively
meanwhile.
MIR. Dowker-for Of course it was he
closed the door carefully, and advancing
to the table introduced himself in two
words:
"Dowker-detective'"
If Myles looked haggard before, he
looked still more 80 now. His face grew
pale, and he shot an inquiring glance at
his visitor, who stood looking mournful-
ly at him. Then, throwing down his pen
in an irritable manner, he arose to his
feet.
We'll, Mr. Dowker," he said little
nervously, you want to see me?"
Il do-very particularly" replied Dow.
/ foR
'ou-car oness what it's about"
myles drew his brows together and
shook his head.
NO. I'm afraid I can't" he said
coldly.
The Jermyn street murder"
Myles gave kind of gasp, and turned
away toward the mantelpiece, ostensibly
to fill his pipe, but in reality to conceal
his agitation.
We'll, he said, in an unsteady voice,
"and what have to do with it?"
That's what I want to know" said
Dowker, imperturbably.
Myles Desmond glanced keenly at him,
lighted his pipe, resumed his seat at the
table, and leaning his elbows thereon,
stared coolly at the detective.
You speak in riddles, he said quietly.
"Humph!" answered Dowker, mean
ingly; perhaps you can guess them.
Not till you explain them more fully
retorted Desmond.
1t was evidently duel between the
men, and they both felt it to be SO.
Dowker wanted to find out something
which Desmond knew, and Desmond on
his side was equally determined to hold
his tongue. The cleverest man would
win in the end, so Dowker began the bat
tie at once.
The woman who was murdered was
Lena Sarschine."
'Indeedl" said Desmond, with stare
of surprise. May ask how you know"
That is not the point" retorted Dow
ker quickly. Il have satisfied myself as
70 the identity of the murdered woman
YOU were the last person who saw her
alive"
rs that so?"
yes, at Lord Calliston's chambers,
between II and IL o'clock on Monday
night"
Who says saw her?"
Mrs. Povy."
Myles Desmond's lips curled.
You seem to have obtained all your in
formation beforehand" he said with q
sneer; perhaps you'll tell roe what you
want to know from me?"
"First-did you see Miss Sarschine on
Monday?"
Yes! did, but in the afternoon, not at
night"
But Mrs. Povy said she called on you
there ON Monday night"
Mrs. Povy is mistaken. I did not see
her"
Did you see anyone at that timer"
that's my business.