The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1897-07-02

Clalneu tne ola woman, WIN u lOOh Ol |
genuine giadness.
John Bridger turned and came face
to face with Miss Marchden.
She wore a black cloth cape trimmed
with Jet fringe.
There was a break In the fringe close
to the right shoulder.
"Ah!" once again calculated Boss
Tee
"Well7" queried the doctor that even
ing. 1t was his usual after-dinner ques-
tion. and hitherto Mr.. Bridger had re-
piled by a shake of the head. Tonight,
however. ne paused, and Dr. Settle, no
ticing the pause looked up quickly
anxiously.
ANY clew?"
"Yes,"
"Not-not-- You can't suspect her!"
said the young man, vehemently, thus
betraylng his fears.
MY dear fellow I'm here to suspect
anybody and everybody-even you"
The expression of his hosts face as
sured the detective that he was guilt
less of the Staying of NJ. d'Himbu. He
could no longer hold the theory he
started from-the motive of money.
But don't be over-troubed. OF
course the whole thing is a trouble,
but STILL much has to be proved yet;
much may have to be improved. Light
may come with tomorrow's post. Mrs.
Bridger is working like a sleuth- hound
in Paris. l believe you know my wife
is a French woman: she was govern
ess at Limby Abbey, and 1 met her
when l went down there about the
poisoning of his lordship's mare, War
paint. She taken to the tee business
| like a duck to water, and always helps
me in my fore gn work; in fact, 1t was
really my wife who ferreted out the
| first clue in the Vangirard-Vann
affair. l believe in a woman helping
her husband even in the toughest pro-
fession. BY the by, what is Mrs. Guy
hrn like? I've met the rector again,
but she always seems invisible"
Mrs. Guyhirn? Well l hardly
know. She wears her hair parted
down the middle, and buys her next
summer clothes at the autumn sales;
at least, $3.50 Miss Marchden says.
But / believe shes good mother and
a good parish worker"
The mornings post brought the
hoped for light. From Brussels there
was brief note:
THE school is near the Pare Leo
pold; very quiet and well-conducted.
Miss NJ. was liked by all; there is no
escapade of hers to record-her hobby
was painting"
| From Paris the missive was bulkier:
| m. dEfimbu seems to have been
simply a flaneur, whose sole aim was to
be true chic. His brother cannot ac-
count for the murder: says Alphonse
was not Il man to quarrel and thinks
the motive must have been highway
robbery. NJ. Henri allowed me to ap-
propriate his brothers album; this
i send to you. Notice the girl in the
Gainsbro' hat; you wiz see her re-
peated in many styles. l fancy she is
an Englishwoman. Is she Miss NJ
Mp"
No, certainly not: she was too fair,
| too slight, too arch. John Bridger
looked at her again and again, for his
professional acumen detected that this
girl had entered largely into NJ. d Him
bus life.
"The policeman" said Mrs. Green, in
terrupting his study of the album.
Boss Tee turned, to see in the mans
hand foreign dagger, half covered by
congealed blood.
Found blood on the top of the pollard
willow that fanks the rectory front
gate-evidently flung there by some
person entering the grounds that way.
Sworn to by Susan Jones as being the
dagger formerly in the possession of
Marjorie Crawford Marchden.
So spoke the constable in his most
professional manner and voice.
Shall I arrest Miss Marchden, sir?"
he continued, as Boss Tee stood silent
ly regarding the weapon. It's clear
| cirpIIpo a N tiol aNidappe Sir ~
Have you seen her?"
i've confronted her with the dagger,
but all she says is: II didn't put ii
on the pollard otherwise, she's as
dumb as a bell;" the Oldby policeman
was noted for the vagueness of his
SMILES.
THE motive?" inquired Mr.. Bridger,
looking up suddenly.
THE motive will ooze out at the trial
sir. Motives are like rats in a hole;
they flashes out when you least expect
'em. Shall get a warrant for her ar
rest?"
wait. I will see her myself. Come
to me later"
THE fight upstairs-the dagger-the
jet beads-the evident bearing of a
painful secret" murmured John Bird
ger; clear circumstantial evidence
truly! The bench would bring in a ver-
diet of guilty at once; and yet l don't
believe Miss Marchden did il! That
girl in the Gainsbro' is at the bottom
of it, or I'm not Boss Tee. Question
isis she in or near Oldby? Hayes
I'll sc the rector's wife; she may throw
some light on the Gainsbro's where
abouts."
Eyes. Mrs. Guyhirn's at home" an
swered the rectory maid, ushering Mr.
Bridger into the morning room.
Mrs. Guyhirn was seated on a low
chair, her youngest child Graded or
her lap, another was at her feet, fold
ing kindergarten papers.
An admiral butterfly sailed into the
room, the second child darted after il
with a whoop. Mrs. Guyhirn laughed
at it's vain efforts and as the light oi
: laughter rose to her eyes Boss 'TeC
: started
Il wish to speak with you about thi:
unfortunate affair. Perhaps, madam
as the intimate friend of Miss March
, den, YOU may help me a little. But
find / have left a paper l require il
my room. Will you excuse me one mo-
ment? 1 will fetch it and return"
Certainly" replied Mrs. Guyhirn
still watching the butterfly hunt.
"He!" said John Bridger, slappinl
one knee. Hal" slapping the other
mo doubt as to the motive now.
clever woman is my Bertrande. At leas'
this case interests melt reaches be
yond Oldby"
Arrived at the doctors, he took ou
NJ. d'IIimbu's album and turned Il
"the girl in the Gainsbro' hat"