The Irish standard., 1900-11-03
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: The STURdIS WAGER :
$ A DETECTIVE STORY. Z
3 BY EDGAR MoRETTE. <
e Copyright, 1899, by Frederick a. Stokes Co. 81
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CHAPTER Nx.-Cosr1NuEn.

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CHAPTER NN.-CoNT1NuED.
There was Il brief silence, broken at
last by Sprague, who asked:
"Has he eseaped?"
Sturgis hesitated.
"That depends upon how we look at
it," he said, gravely, at length; "he has
paid the penalty of his crimes"
'What do you mean?"
"He is dead" answered the reporter.
Dead? But tell you saw him"
II know; but he has died since.'
"Suicide?"
'No;" the reporters voice sank to
whisper; murder"
''Murder?" repeated the artist, star
tied. "But how do you know that7"
"This lump of lead tells the story"
said Sturgis, holding up the shapeless
piece of metal which he had taken out
of the vat.
"What is it? A bullet?"
Eyes; the bullet which Chatham car
ried in his arm from the time that he
was wounded by Arbogast, the bullet
which has enabled me to trace him step
by step, from his flight from the over
turned cab to DR.. Thurston's and finally
to his death in this very room; the
bullet whose peculiar shape is record
ed in this shadow picture taken by
Thurston by means of the Roentgen
rays"
So saying, he handed Sprague the
photograph. But the artist had ceased
to listen.
tin this very room?" he unused aloud,
looking about him with awe.
Eyes. The story is simple enough.
The man whose instrument Chatham
was is not one who would care to be
numbered up with tools, which become
positively dangerous as soon as they
cease to be useful. This man, totally
unhampered by 'pity, gratitude or fear,
determined to destroy the accountant,
whose discovery might have imperiled
his own welfare. What mattered a
human life or two, when weighed
against the possible loss of his own
life OF liberty, or of his high social
standing and his enormous wealth; for
this man is both renowned and rich,
and he appears to have brought whole
sale murder to n science
, do you mean to say that wholesale
murder can be INDUCED in with inn
punity in city like New York, at the
end of the nineteenth century?" asked
sprague, aghast.
Eyes; when it is done in the system
attic and scientific manner that has been
employed here. For this murderer is
the most remarkable criminal of mod
crn times. Hc has not been satisfied
with killing his victims; he has sue
ceeded in completely wiping them out
of existence. Criminals have often at
tempted to destroy the bodies of their
victims, but they have never before sue
ceeded as this man has. He is a chem
list of remarkable talent, and he has
discovered Il compound in which bone
rs we'll as human tissue is rapidly and
totally dissolved. There it is in yon-
der tank Sec how completely the
liquid has destroyed the bone handle
of this knife"
Sturgis, after showing the damaged
knife to his companion, resumed his
whiting upon the cover of the box
on which the artist was seated.
"Chatlam's body has been dissolved
in that tank within very short time
1t has entirely disappeared; this fat
tened bullet alone is left. lead being
one of the few substances which are
Eot soluble in the contents of the
tank. Fortunately he overlooked that
fact. Genius has it's lapses."
Presently Sprague ventured to say:
"If numerous crimes have been COM
mitted here as you intimate, l do not
understand how it is that suspicion
has never rested on this house be-
FORE"
'"The author of these crimes has
taken every precaution to render the
chance of discovery quite remote. His
dwelling-house on one street, and the
bogus Chemical company on the other
are in communication through this
underground passage, while appar-
emily having no connection with each
other. Moreover, he is too shrewd to
make frequent use of this death cham
Ter. That does well enough as last
resort, when he is obliged to commit
the murders with his own hands; but
I suspect that this man has other
agents like Chatham. who do the
dirty work for him and then quietly
ship the bodies here for humiliation,
as it was intended should be done
with Arbogast's. Ali yes; thought
so. You are sitting upon one of these
bodies now"
Sprague started to his feet; and,
following the direction in which Stur-
lis was pointing with his open knife,
lie vaguely discerned, through the
opening which the reporter had whit
tied. small surface of what had
once been the features. of IL human
being.
After gazing for some minutes in
horrorstricken silence at the distort-
cd face, the artist asked in low
voice:
"How did Chatham meet his death 2"
81 don't know yet" answered stur-
gis graycly; "this man is no ordinary
criminal. His work is clean and
leaves no blood-stains and no disorder
to tell of its accomplishments. He
takes life with his own hands only
( when he is forced to do so; but, when
lie does, his method is mastery. It
was easier to make away with Chat
ham than tn nav him. RI, "a v,r;o, n r,,a Il