Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1899-04-23

1
them. We were standing IN the paEs-
age below. the candlestick shaking in
Mrs. varney,s hand.
"None of mine fit, I know" she
breathed, nervously. But do make
haste, sir-cculdn't they imprison us for
doing this? There, that key
looks exactly like the breakfast parlor
one this door; let me try it, sir. No.
it doesn't quite turn. o, and there's
the door Of the big cellar, where we
keep hearing the digging and knocking
noises!"
I had forgotten that. Flinging open
the door, peered down into the black
ness. Hand me that lamp-we'll
soon know" I said and the constable
followed me down the wooden steps.
Mind the coals!" came madam
shaky voice down. 20, be quick! The
cellar runs out under the street. 1t
sounded as if they = Mercy,
it's the Winstons, come back! Out
with the light, sir-don't move, for
heavens sake!"
We were half way across the damp,
black space; her voice merged into a
half scream so thrillingly, that on the
spur Of the moment l blew the candle
out and gripped the constable's arm.
There was sound of a heavy door
slammed to, and then heavy footsteps
and deep voices in the passage over
head.
We had TO search warrant-and
there might be mistake, after all.
Besides, to disclose ourselves might
mean a bad half hour for Mrs. Varney
If not for us.
The cellar door had evidently been
closed, as no light had came down, and
the sounds were muffied. Finally
concluded that the best thing in the
circumstances would be to find some
discriminating evidence if possible, and
get away without being seen-if posi-
BILE, again. l felt for ny matchbox,
and relit the candle.
There were no signs Of any excava-
tons whatever that we could discover
I went cautiously back to the steps and
pushed. 1t gave me quite little
thrill to find the door immovaole. The
constable hooked rather pale in the can
delight.
"Queer's the word, sir!" he whisper
ed. 81 don't half like it. 1 just
thought of the coal shoot, and there's
something on 1.-THE plate won't shift.
They know we're down here, mark my
-sh. that's a cart stopping outside!
Mr.. Girdlestone, they're clearing OF.
For a time we stood, in a sort OF
stupefaction; then, in spasm OF rage,
I made a dash at that door, deter
mined to chance anything. Useless-it
resisted our united strain; clearly, we
were pushing against some weighty
object.
LET them go." I painted, at last.
1--WE must have them sooner or later
she'll come down and let us out the
moment they turn their backs"
"Unless they've done for herr" he
whispered. "It took something to
brighten that woman, sir!"
And almost simultaneously-sha
ever forget it?-there came a lull in
the scurrying overhead, and then a
voice, thick with nervous laughter, just
outside that door:
"Er-mind the coals!'
1t was Mrs. Varney's voice. The
hall door banged, there was the sound
of cart rumbling away and then
utter, significant silence.
"Your truncheon,' gasped. "You
haven't one? Up with some of this
coal; aim high and splinter that door,
I'll have them yet
The top hinge gave--a panel shat
tered; in two minutes we were clamb-
ering across heavy wringing machine
that had been wedged between the door
and projection of the wall. The place
was, save for one or two rooms, prac-
tically destitute of furniture-clearly
enough it had been rented more for
nefarious than for domestic purposes.
Ten minutes later we painted into the
police station, and had sent all the
available men, with descriptions of the
young widow" flying over Camden
Town.
Then I started back for home. l
would get rid of the CRIME and coal
dust, and then take a cab straight to
Scotland Yard.
1 got to the door and pulled out my
keys. My keys! They were not mine
with gasp stood and realized that
that clever creature, asking to try
them, had handed me back her own
bunch in exchange. Twice l knocked
loudly before the door opened and
showed me my wife's face as white as
a sheet.