The Winslow mail., 1901-03-21
"As we were saving, Mr.. sturgis-"

panel of the door at the head of the
stairs had been pushed up, revealing a
small opening, covered by strong and
closel y-woven wire netting.
Gas we were saying, murder will
out!' Nevertheless, it is sometimes
easier to weld chain, even of circum-
stantial evidence, than it is to pre-
dict who will be bound in it,"
Sturgis and Sprague stood in the
glimmering light of the candle, silent
ly watching the glowing eyes behind
the screen.
"Mr. Sturgis, you are clever Daan,"
continued Murdoch, IAN uncommonly
clever man. [ frankly admit that |
had underrated your ability. But then
we are all fallible, after all. made my
share of blunders, as you seem to have
discovered; but you will doubtless now
concede that your own course has not
been entirely free from errors. And
now that we have reached the conclu-
sion of this interesting game, l have
the honor to announce: Mate in one
novel Perhaps you are surprised that
l should take the trouble to explain the
situation to you so clearly. l do so in
recognition of your superior intelli-
gence. 1 see in you peer Ii matters
could have been so arranged, should
have been proud to work in harmony
with such a man as you; and indeed,
when short time ago invited you to
my laboratory, it was my intention to
offer you a compromise which hoped
1 might be able to persuade you to ac-
cept. 1 felt that you would prove an
ally who could be trusted. But, alas,
that is impossible now, on account. of
your friends presence. With all due
respect to Mr.. Sprague, as an amiable
man of the world and prince of good
fellows, it may be said that he is not
one of us. Much to my sorrow, there
fore, [ am left no alternative to the
course am about to adopt. The fault,
if anybody's, is your own, after all, MIR.
Sprague. There is a homely but ex-
pressive adage concerning the danger
of 'monkeying' with buzz saw. Why,
my dear friend, did you monkey with
Mr.. Sturgis' buzz saw, instead of stick
ing to your palette and maulstick?
''But 1 fear 1 am growing garrulous,
gentlemen. If l had time, should like
to explain to Mr.. Sturgis the details
of some of the more important, and, in
my humble opinion, more brilliant.
schemes of which 1 have been the-ah
the promoter; for I dislike to be
judged by the bungling operations
which have SO nearly caused me to lose
this latest little game. But this can
not be. shall have to continue to con-
fide to the pages of my journal, as I
have done for years, the interesting
events of, 1 may say, somewhat re-
markable career, which [ hope will
some day, after my death, find their
way in print to public favor. My dream
has always been that some such man
as Mr.. Sturgis might ultimately edit
these memoirs; but, alas, the fondest
OF human dreams are seldom destined
TO be realized.
"Now, then, gentlemen, before final
ly parting with you, [ wish to honor
ably carry out the terms of my wager
with Mr.. Sturgis. [ concede the fact
that, to all intents and purposes, he
has won the bet, and L authorize you,
Mr.. Sprague, as stakeholder, to pay
him the amount [ deposited with you.
AS 1 have already suggested, he has
made some perhaps excusable mis-
takes; but, then, as he himself stated
the other night, "a detective has life
time in which to correct a blunder.'
A lifetime! 1t is not in accordance with
Mr.. Sturgis' usual practice to use so
vague term. A lifetime is not neces-
sarily very long time, Mr.. Sturgis.'
During this tirade Sturgis and
Sprague had remained standing with
their eyes fixed upon che cleaning car
buncles which peered at them from be-
hind the grated peephole at the top of
the stairs. The artist seemed to real
ize that the fight was lost. His attitude
was that of brave man accepting,
with calm despair, an unpleasant but
inevitable doom. The reporter had
drawn his revolver at the first sound
of Murdock's voice, but had immedi-
ately returned it to his pocket upon
realizing that the chemist was protect
ed by bullet-proof grating. Now, pale
and collected, he remained inscrutable.
1t was impossible, even for the sharp
eyes of Murdock, to determine whether
he was at last resigned to his fate, OF
whether his active mind was still on
the alert for loophole of escape.
The bit of candle which he held in
his hand had burned SO low that at last
he was unable to hold it without risk
of burning his fingers. Whereupon he
coolly set it down upon the stone floor,
where presently the wick fell over into
pool of molden paraffine, and the
flame sputtered noisily, sending fitful
CLEANS through the darkness.
''Well," continued Murdock's voice,
cit is at any rate great satisfaction
to play game with an adversary
worthy of ones steel. You have played
we'll, Mr.. Sturgis. I think you would
have won modestly; and you are losing
as I would myself have lost, had our
positions been reversed. Goodbye"
The cleaning eyes disappeared from
the grating and the sliding panel closed
with a metallic click.
'Now, then" said Sturgis to his COM
panion, ''the last chance lies in the
speaking tube. But first help me move
this box"
''What do you want to do with the
box?" asked Sprague, who, however,
did as he was bid.
SIT may help us to gain little time