Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1903-11-18
THE SPINDLE CLEW.
By Albert Payson Terhune.

homo.
One of the emergency reporters had
stretched himself out on long table
his head on a dictionary, aud was
sleeping as only seasoned reporter
could on so uncomfortable a bed.
Elklns, the other reporter, was
shooting craps" with the copy read
or; and the office boy, after writing his
own name with quaint fourishes sew
enty-nine times on sheet OF copy
paper, was nodding in his chair.
The electric lights burned drearhy
under their green shades, leaving
much of the great city room in gloom
The roar of the city had died away
so that the clang Of an occasional
cable car or the rattle of a market
truck on the Park row pavements
Jared noisily.
I'm sorry for Hereward," observed
the copy reader. "He isn't getting a
fair show here"
"Neither is any one for that mat
ter" growled Elkins.
It is an unwritten rule among news
paper men to grumble at those in au'
thority over them, and to bemoan
their own hard luck-a popularity
which they share with three-fourths OF
the worlds working population.
"FIereward's a first-rate reporter,
went on Brewer, "but he's had bad
luck on nearly every assignment since
the new managing editors been here
So he's in bad odor with the chief. II
he gets thrown down on this SchencE
murder case I'm afraid they'll send in
his resignation"
The Schenck murder case was one
that had attracted more attention than
| any other since the Carlyle Harris
trial.
Otto Schenck, rich Wall Street
man. had lived with his aged parents
on Madison avenue. He had been
found lying huddled together in heap
in the vestibule of his home one
morning ten days earlier. Outer and
inner front doors of the house were
wide open, and plate to the value of
$500 was missing from the dining
/ room.
The motive for the murder. said the
police, was quite clear. y thief or
thieves had entered and robbed the
| Schenck house, and on departing had
met the young man coming in the
front door. Otto had showed fight
and was killed.
Thus far the case seemed simple
enough. But there was another, more
inexplcable element in it. The only
mark of violence on the victim was a
tiny reddish spot over the heart.
Around this spot were one or two
| minute flakes of dark brown Gust.
Now, burglars are not usually pro-
vided with complex weapons that kill
and leave traces of this sort.
The spot was too tiny to he caused
by even a stiletto blow. Yet all au-
topsy proved the heart to have been
pierced by weapon Of some sort, the
point of which had entered at the right
ventricle. Some wiseacre had showed
that such blow, delivered in such a
fashioned, must have been dealt with
the left hand.
And there the police knowledge stop
ped short. They were securing the
city for left-handed thief. Pawn
shops had been ransacked in vain for
traces of the stolen silver. The
Schenck servants, and Otto's father
and mother, testified that they had
slept peacefully through the whole
tragedy.
1t was a deadlock.
Old Mrs. Schenck was Frustrated by
the blow. Her husband bore himself
with stern fortitude, but he had aged
ten years during the past fortnight.
And this was the helpless case to
which Jack Hereward. of the Morning
Planet, had been assigned. Like other
reporters he had tried in vain to
strike new clews on his own account
Like others he had written columns Of
uninteresting detail and conjecture
and had elaborated each police theory
to three times the space it was worth
He had done his best, but i'll luck
logged his steps; and, as Brewer said,
If he didn't make hit of some sort
on the case, there was every chance Of
his being discharged. Small wonder
lat, after days and nights of untir.
ing work. he now slept like log!
Three o'clock! Thank Heaven we
can get out Of this!' cried Elkins.
wake up, Hereward, and go home"
"Eh What" muttered Hereward,
sitting UP.
"Time to go home?" he went on,
clambering down from the table. His
head was heavy with sleep, and he
staggered as he tried to stand. He
threw out one arm to save himself
from falling, and brought down his
left hand heavily on the copy desk.
A cry of pain followed his action.
echoed by exclamations Of horror
from Brewer and Elkins.
Hereward, in his effort to preserve
his balance, had thrown his full weight
on the hand that fell on the copy
desk. The hand had come down with
terrible force or spindle that held
q dozen sheets of yellow "flimsy."
This spindle was like others Of its
sort used for the filing of papers. 1t
consisted of an upright steel wire,
sharpened to a fine point, and attached
to round wooden base.
The spindle had run clean through
the reporters hand.
Come down to the drug store"
cried Brewer, land get the wound dis
infected, or you may get lockjaw.'
But Hereward, having drawn out the
spindle with groan of pain, was
staring open mouthed at his hand. He
gazed at it with an eager intensity
that for a moment drove all memory
of pain from his mind.
What are you waiting for?' qusried
uor,;n, bo1J;n~ opap ba door Por hin,