The San Francisco call., 1896-03-22

spicuous in San Francisco he decided to
take lodgings in an obscure house where
his name would not be required. To this
end he was influenced by the stranger,
who revealed to him glimpses of
stupendous scheme for manipulating cer-
tain mining shares for their common
benefit.
All this seemed new and interesting
matter as read it. 1t would have been un-
usual for me TO copcoct so intricate story
without a painfully conscious effort. The
horid, hearty man who had taken lodgings
on Market street; his heavy drinking; the
dark, cynical, saturnine man who had
kept completely in the shadow and who
had told me of his using typewriter; the
man of similar appearance who had left a
typewriter to be repaired; the ease with
which this machine had brought me face
to face with the two men whom had sup
posed to be the principals of the tragedy
these were condolences which it was i'm
possible to ignore.
The discovery of the recent whereabouts
of the small, dark man would be matter
for patient police research and was foreign
to my undertaking. A more pressing duty
was to lay my evidence before the Chief of
Police and thus make it possible for him to
intercept the murderer's flight.
His deep interest when / had told him
everything may be imagined. The hour
for the departure of an eastbound over
land train was nearing. In order not to
to the ferry and / accompanied him to
identify the fugitive should he appear. /
had written out this description:
ga small, dark man with a.cynical air,
and possibly carrying valise marked
Thomas Quigley.'"
At the ferry we ran plump into the big
f1orid mani The surprise and shock were
SO great and kfelt SO foolish to realize that
all my ingenious fabrication was utterly
without foundation that did not even
draw the Chiefs attention to him. The
big man passed on; our watch had been
unproductive. The case fell with my
pride and the murderer was never caught.
submit, however, that my logic was good
and my conclusion intelligent. This was
the only consolation I could draw from
my humiliation.
/ think l know the whole truth now, and
as the slayer is dead and I alone ever
learned his secret, and as he was not
murderer in an extralegal sense, 1 will
close this account with an explanation of
the mystery.
Recently, while searching the shops for
secondhand typewritef as the agent of a
friend out of town. came across the iden-
tical machine that had so curiously be-
wildered me long ago. 1 recognized it the
moment I tried the keys. 1t be-
gan the same garrulous old tale,
but instead of breaking down at the
critical moment it paused where 1t had
left off before. stammered, halted, and
then ratified glibly on with a scheme by
which Thomas Quigley was to be robbed of
all his wealth. do not see how it was
possible for the machine to have assisted
me in constructing solution of the mys-
terry, for that would be admitting mys-
terry greater than all. I know merely that
without any effort whatever, and while
testing the machine, wrote this:
Thomas Quigley was the large, forid
man. He was a rich miner whom the
stranger had planned to rob. Upon dis
covering the treachery of the man who
had pretended to be his friend and who
had piled him with liquor, and upon as
certaining that while drunk he had been
induced to sign documents which not only
beggared him, but made him criminal as
we'll, in moment of frenzy he killed the
stranger, and then, aiming to shield him.
self, had so reduced the body to fragments
as to leave the impression that he himself
had been murdered
But whether that is the truth am not
ready to say under oath.
Tho avarooa uooIth fhrouohnut {ha