davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The Washington times., 1905-11-12
her Robinson, ColIaborator With A. Conan Doyle

cisive I sprang to the corner of the
screen and peered into the darkened al
cove beyond.
Upon his death bed pillows the calm
and simple face Of poor Won Stockmar
cleaned Ike a mask carved in white
marble. But neither of the two men
who confronted each other across the
body looked upon it. Graden. a grim
and resolute figure, stood holding a
common wooden match box In his huge
hands. He had opened 1t carelessly, for
cheap sulphur matches were scattered
on the sheet before him. Marnac's face
I could not see. but In the pose Of his
back and shoulders there was some
thing suggestive OF an animal about TO
spring.
For n second or two the three OF as
stood in silence. My cousin was the first
to break it.
pray do not let US detain you. Prof
Marnac," said he. Should we chance
upon your ring. believe me, it will be
safe"
The professor Strengthened himself
with a little gesture of submission and
stepped back into the lamplight. His
hand was on the latch. when he turned
upon us-for We had followed him-with
a face deformed with the most malig-
nant fury.
"Au revoir. my friends" he cried. 'T
wish you pleasant evening"
And then a fit of laughter took him
smothered, diabolical merriment that
broke out In oily chuckles like water
gurgling from bottle. The door closed
upon 1t. We stood listening as 1t grew
fainter. fainter, until It died away in
silence on the lower stairs.
Turn the key, Cousin Robert. But
no; after him. lad. and bolt him out OF
the house. He'll be burning IL down.
else"
Graden was inexpHcabIe; but I ran to
obey. AS 1 reached the hail, I heard
tho cIang of the street door and the
sQueaklng of the bolts as Hans shot
them behind the departing visitor.
When L re-entered the room found
the screen pushed back against the wall,
and my cousin. in his shirt-sleeves,
leaning over the bed. He barked at me
over his shoulder to sit down and keen
quiet. and I humbly obeyed him. Once
or twice he turned to the lamp which
he had at his elbow, and I caught a
glimpse of a magnifying glass. Pres
emily he rose. and, carrying the lamp In
his hand, commenced a circuit of the
room. lingering now and again TO ex-
anime some object. At the dressing
table he paused for several minutes,
using the magnifying glass repeatedly.
But shortly afteFWard he threw him
self into a chair beside me with the
air OF man whose work Is done.
It's no disrespect to our little Her
mann that / mean," said he, pulling out
. ia briaG kfB smoke 1 must.
The Washington times., 1905-11-12

He sat there putting for q minute or
two. his head sunk forward, his eyes
on the floor. I watched him expec-
tantly.
IT'S a great gift. is observation" he
began 1T makes just the difference
between mediocrity and success n
game hunters and novel writer's, in
paAaters OF pictures and explorers OF
the unknown lands. where a man has
never a map TO help him And this
same trick OF observation has given
me some very remarkable results this
evening: and how remarkable You will
realize when / set them out IN proper
order. You've logical head, Cousin
Robert, and 1 want you TO give me
your fullest attention. Contradict me
If I overstate the case.
Fact the frst: That a certain cele-
brated scientist, Rudolf Marnac, had
an i'll feelinR-a very Ill and evil feel
ing-toward a certain brother-profes-
sor. one Hermann Won Stockmar. Fact
the second: That Won Stockmar died
suddenly"
''Of a natural cause. as certified by
a comDetent physician added quick
ly.
Exactly. Fact the third: Marnac.
who considers you a deserter TO the
Stockmar camp-as. indeed, I gather
from your own story-appears in your
rooms to inform you OF the sudden
death OF his enemy. Now. why should
he do that2"
'He is an eccentric. A sudden whim.
perhaps. We were very intimate once,
you must remember"
Though hardly so now, from his
manner OF regarding you when he first
announced himself tfAs evening"
He might have caught what we
were saying. Listeners hear no good
of themselves. but that does not tend
to improve their tempers."
well. let that pass. Il brings US TO
fact number four: He tells a deliberate
iie.''
"A liel But when?"
The man was worth studying. When
I first saw him this evening. 1 ran my
eye over him. I especially noticed his
hands-their suppleness. their delicate
color. their long prehensile fingers.
do not doubt that he IS very proud OF
them. He wore no ring-it is not the
custom of those who deal with germs to
SO Rdorn themselves. What was he
looking for so anxiously IN this room, II
II were not q ring7 Why did he leave
US in the hall that he might conduct
this search before our presence disturb
ed hiIn?''
81 cannot suggest an explanation; but
really. Cousin Graden. you seem TO be
weaving a most unnecessary tangle. I
cannot imagine what result you expect
"a conviction for muE scr.''
I stared at him In th< 1st profound
Amusement
The Washington times., 1905-11-12
lcontInued from - -


Have patience, my impetuous cousin.
From the first I had always found a
friend in Won Stoekmar. liked him and
we met frequently. The second day after
the scene in the lecture room I was
walking with the CHEEKY little man
when We chanced upon Marnac. He
gave me an ugly look, but said nothing
That night, however. he came to these
rooms and abused me roundly. He re-
minded me OF the interest he had shown
fl my work, called me a traitor - ms
party. and IN other ways behaved with
a childish absurdity. Naturally. 1 re-
fused to give up a valued friend
You did right. Bur surely the affair
has blown over?"
'To the contrary. the antagonism-on
Marnac's side. at least-has grown still
more bitter. Whenever I chance 70 De
present. he misses no opportunity Of at
tacking my dear friend as ne calls
Won Stockmar, in the most cruel and
xindictive fashion. Ny position at his
lectures is. I assure you, becoming most
unendurable.'
You are too sensitive, Cousin Robert.
The absurdities OF a vain and jeal-
Gus"
Graden checked his unfinished sent
ence with his nose cooked ia the air
like a gigantic terrier. Surprise and sus-
picion were In his expression and atti-
tude. Then he rose slowly. as with an
effort. and leaned forward across the
table. his knuckles resting on its edge.
we neglect our visitor. said he
graveiy. and at his words I turned
sharply I'm my chair
IN the shadows about the door, yet
outlined with sufficient clearness against
the Black sak OF the wainscot. a face
stared ia upon US Around the head.
crowned with a black skull-cap. fell a
thick growta OF white hair that was
saint~zzxG - length and beauty: the
beard was Of the like venerable purity.
IN man OF his apparent age the cheeks
were curlously rosy, while the hand that
held open the door was small a wom-
ans and delicate as old ivory. For q
moment I thought that the eyes. exag-
gerated by the convex pebbles OF great
gold glasses, turned upon me with an
expression OF malicious satisfaction. Yet
this was but an impression, Tor the
gloom hung heavily about him where
he stood. and my sight had not been IN
affected by nights OF study.
"Win not the gentleman step ing' Gra-
den continued, with a reproach at my
unhospitality in mis- voice.
Prof. Rudolf Marnac-for 1t was he
who thus honored us-slid his diminu-
tive figure through the door and ad-
vanced, with a courteous inclination,
into the lamplight.
ssMy dea= young sir said he. IN the
soft. musical English with which it vas
The Washington times., 1905-11-12
The TRAIL OF THE DEAD,By B. Fletcher Ro

his custom TO address me. II should not
have intruded myself at this late hour
but that I am the bearer Of painful news
which felt It right to communicate TO
you. Your friend, Hermann Won Stock
mar, died this evening of acute iufiaua-
nation Of the lungs"
''DiedZ'' 1 cried in bew1iderment. ~Wny.
/ passed him in the street at midday
looking well and hearty"
Yes, IL is even so. Mr.. Hariand. One
moment a steady flame Illuminating this
university with its light; the next. a
sigh from the conqueror Death and il is
extinguished. The active brain Is still;
the pen, trenchant. ineisive. destructive,
is laid aside forever"
It was an impressive homily: but from
so open and vindictive foe II seemed
singularly inappropriate.
You seem surprised" he continued.
I fear that encounters IN the cause OF
science may have led the public to be-
lieve that POOR Won Stockmar and I
cherished personal animosities. II that
IS so, trust you will use your influence
10 contradict it. Ny sorrow Is already
heavy enough-without that unwarrant-
able suspicion"
The professor seemed deeply affected.
Removing his spectacles. he pulled from
MS SlIE pOShcN d ldiB Be SlAA pO<hcA-aiaAlN-
kerchief. AS he did SO. tinkle caught
my ear. A square box of some white
metal had fallen 10 the floor. It rolled
into the lamplight, where the lid new
OPEN The professor hastily clapped on
his glasses; but already Graden had re-
trieved the box and was presenting ii to
him.
There was nothing in It. sir" said
he. for the professor had stopped and
was examining the carpet minutely.
II thank you. L thank you"
Pray, do not mention II. Cousin Rob
ert. If you and the professor will ex-
cuse me, 1 viii step across and take
a last look at poor little Hermann.
Where are his rooms?"
Before I could answer, the professor
was on his feet.
Pray. accept me as your gide.' said
he. moving toward the door. Graoen
bowed his thanks Ike polite elephant.
1 followed the pair down the stairs.
It was growing late, and the narrow
streets Of the students quarter were
well nigh deserted. A moon, like a
polished shield. hung over the old castle
above US. picking out each turret and
parapet IN silver gray against the sleep
ing woods that swept upward TO the
skyline. Across our path the gabled
house cast broad. fantastic pools OF
shadow. A wind had risen with the
moon, and sighed and duivered IN the
tant beer house came the faint NUT
ter OF a rousing chorus, but soon Il
was swallowed and eaz-5ed away BIZ the
mLGaight breezas-
The Washington times., 1905-11-12

We had not far to walk, and in five
minutes the professor was tapping dis
creetly with an ugly devil-face OF
knocker on Won Stockmar's door. Pres
entity the bolt was drawn. and Hans,
the gray-bearded servant of the dead
man. stood In the doorway. a lamp held
nigh above his head He blinked upon
US moodily. with eyes dimmed by old
age and recent tears till. catching sight
OF Graden's huge bulk. he stepped for
ward with a snort OF surprise, flashing
the light in his face as he did so.
by heavens! but It is Heinrich der
Grosse" he stammered. "Ach! Herr
Heinrich. but have you forgotten Hans
of the schlagers. servant of the honor
able corps of the Saxo Borusen?"
mo. no." said Craden. shaking the
veteran by the hand. 80 our little Her
mann took you for his servant. as he
promised? This is a sad day for US
both. old friend. Tell me. how did 1t
happen?"
do not ask me. Herr Heinrich. My
mind wanders-I. who served him nigh
on twenty years and was as a father and
mother TO him"
The worthy fellow put down the lamp
in the little hall into which he had led
US. and mopped his eyes with hand
that trembled with emotion.
But Graden persisted In his quiet way
and soon extracted the details. 1t SEEM
ed that Il was the custom of the dead
professor to take nap after his mid
day meal. That afternoon, however, his
sleep was unduly prolonged. and at 4
Hans who knew he had an engagement
about that hour. slipped in 10 wake him.
His master was lying on the couch In his
bedroom. where he was wont to take his
siesta But he was IN a curious. hud-
died position and breathing stentoriously.
Hans failed TO rouse him. became alarm
ed. and hurried of for a neighbOring
doctor That gentleman diagnosed the
case as a sudden and severe chill which
had settled on the lungs, causing yio-
lent Inflammation. Everything possible
was done, but by s he was dead Be
yopd the remarkable violence of the
seizure, the doctor had said, there was
nothing I'm the symptoms. Oyerwork
had doubtless undermined the constitu-
ton and rendered II vulnerable to a sud
den attack.
And while he was asieep-had he Wis
itorsT'' asked Graden.
THE street door is never locked during
the day"
But would you not have heard the
steps?"
1T was my custom TO sleep, too. Herr
professor allowed it.
so. / should like TO take a last look
at your poor master. friend Hans. BY
the way. Cousin Robert, where is our
guide. the learned Marnac? deb z<sa
SO hlza leave the house,
The Washington times., 1905-11-12

But, getting hack to clubs for a
moment Sefore / have to wind the
clock, what Is there in club life to
compare with the comforts and
pleasures OF an evening at home.
Your dressing gown and slippers.
your easy chair, good cigar and
your wife by your side to talk to, to
read to, or just to be there, to give
you the joy OF her presence. Or, more
indolent. to listen to her chatter
about hundred things that may not
interest you in detail. but are won
derfully entertaining in the abstract
because 1t is she who is telling them:
to let her read to you while you peo-
pie the blue smoke with the charm
ing creatures OF the story. until the
delicious monotone fades into a thin
line of sound without meaning and
you wake with a start to find her
arms around your neck and saying,
Kiss me. John. it's time to go to
bed" The club esnnot give any salts
factory substitute for this. The one
is an artificial institution; the other
ia divine
Still, as I said before. 1 would not
have you give up your club if you
can AFFORD the expense. Get out with
the boys once IN a while. It won't
do you any harm, If you come homo
sober and financially whole. But
make the club the occasional diver
sion. Reserve the great majority of
your evenings for Anna May. who is
worth more to you than all the clubs
in Christendom, than all the friends
you can make therein. stanch and
valuable however they may be.
Spend your evenings with her. Have
your friends IN occasionally in an
informal way Visit them IN the
same way-with your wife; go to
the theater or other places of amuse-
ment-with your wife; go TO church
on Sundays-with your wife. Make
her the shareT OF your pleasures, the
partner Of your joys and you can bet
your life you can depend upon her
sharing your troubles, whatever they
may be. Stand by her as your other
self and she VIII stand by you. The
chances are ten to one she viii stand
by you anyway. That Is woman's
characteristic, even when her loyalty
is least deserved. but that doesn't
relieve you from the obligation OF
devoted loyalty to her. On the con-
trary. 1t increases that obligation
Make her happiness the chief aim of
your life and you will find It recipro-
cal, and more, for what you give
will be returned TO you with sub
stantial profit added.
And now. my boy. I have said
enough, and besides I am tired. With
love to Anna May. as well as unfail-
ing affection for yourself. I bid you
good night.
Yours as ever. JOHN SNEED.
P. S.-Mother says 10 be very
careful about draughts on the back
of your neck. J. s.
The Washington times., 1905-11-12

Perhaps the Prof. Marnac has al
ready gone TO my masters room. the
second to the right on the first floor"
suggested the old servant.
In two strides my cousin was on the
steep and narrow stairs For a man
OF his age and size he mounted them
with a surprising activity. Indeed. when
I gained the landing he was already
standing at the door Of the room. He
held up his hand with warning ges-
ture. I stepped up to him softly and
peeped over his shoulder.
BY the side Of an old sofa placed
against the wall of a room, half bed
chamber. half study, Prof. Marnac
crouched on his hands and knees. A
lamp stood on the floor at his elbow. He
was working with feverish haste, yet
with a certain method. moving the lamp
onward as his examination Of the sec
tiOn lit by its immediate rays was COM
pleted. It was an odd sight, this silver
haired figure that crept about, peeping
and peering, like some species of elderly
ape. So absorbed was he that IL was
nigh on a minute before. with u swift
sideways turn Of the head, he caught
sight of our faces in the doorway and
rose to his feet
II can find no trace of it." said he.
smoothing back his hair with sigh.
1T Is excessively annoying
'Of what, may 1 ask, sir?'' I queried
'Of my signet ring. Mr.. HarIand A
valued possession which 1 would not
lose for fifty pounds"
Pray let me assist you." said I. step
ping forward and raising the lamp,
which the professor had replaced on the
table.
No. no, Mr.. Harland. Enough has
been done; in the presence of death We
must forget such trfvialities. Besides,
although il was on my finger when
entered the house. it may have been
dropped in the hall or on the stairs. I
do not doubt that Hans will find it,
The professor spoke in so resoIute d
fashion that politeness did not demand
that l should press the matter. Ny
cousin had already passed behind a
great screen OF stamped leather that cut
or the bed from the rest of the apart
ment Marnac had stepped after him.
and l. though at a slower pace, follows
ed him. To be honest. the events of the
evening had disturbed me not a little
had grown suspicious, uneasy. and this
annoyed me in that l was without rea-
sonable cause for such a frame of mind
Granted that the professor had display
ed oddities of demeanor, yet he was no
toriously an eccentric. And II my cous-
in had become taciturn. IL his politeness
rang insincerely. the death OF his old
friend
back, 1 sayl"
4 was Graden's voice. stern and de-
The Washington times., 1905-11-12
seR<.ky and LIVz

but III bet my best horse It's more
than half the total.
What in the name of Grover
Cleveland CAM you expect of a wo-
man if you go gallivantin' around
every night and leave her to her
own devices? While you are out
with the boys having good time
what do you suppose she is doing?
l can tell you. She is trying to read
or to do a little fancy work and
getting mighty small satisfaction
out of the job. She is getting up
every ten minutes and going TO the
window to look for you. She is
wondering why you don't come, and
filing her brain with imaginary
happenings. II you are long delay
ed she sees you mangled by a car,
knocked down by an automobile, or
held up by footpads. If she is of a
jealous disposition her thoughts
take another turn. and, no matter
how innocent the cause of your abb
sence may be. you must remember
she has nothing to do but think.
Under such circumstances the brain
has g queer way of calling up un-
welcomed and unpleasant pictures.
Night after night of this viii turn
the most ardent love into indiffer-
ence. It VIII dry up the heart and
sour the blood of the most long
suffering woman on earth, and then
the fool man wonders what has
changed his wife, and, OF course,
blames her. He thinks it all over
and says to himself that he has
given her everything in the world
she has asked for or could want. He
has been true. kind and faithful
husband and her conduct is there
fore inexcusable. He forgets that
he has denied her that which she
considers Of far greater Importance
than all the rest, that which she
desires far more than fine clothing
his companiOnship.
There was Jimmy Rogers. a mem
Der Of one of my clubs, as fine a fell
low as ever walked the streets, every
inch man. generous to a fault.
straight as foot rule. a stanch
friend, and one Of the best story
tellers 1 ever heard He was devot-
ed to his wife. but he was an in
Veterate club man. He never dream
ed he was neglecting her, for like
many women she endured in silence:
became a confirmed misanthrope, and
finally died of nervous prostration,
the victim Of her own imagining.
After long time Jimmy fell in love
again, this time with a woman who
said things and who knew his first
wife. When he proposed she gave
him some information about his past
life that astonished and panied him.
She accepted him, but upon the exJ
press condition that he spend at
least half of his evenings at
home. Jimmy has kept the agree
ment and more. He doesn't come TO
the club more than half a dozen
times a month. and he goes home
The Washington times., 1905-11-12

Yes. murder. Cousin Robert: as de-
liberate and cold-bIooded a doing TO
death OF an innocent man as has ever
befouled corner OF Gods fair world"
He rose from his chair and plowed
heavily up and down the room. The
veins started In his forehead: his huge
hands knotted themselves tensely.
Listen. This afternoon a man lay
asieep on that couch in the corner. Wa
know the manner OF mana keen IN
yestigator. an indefatigable worker. an
honest fighter; but one who had never
done in all his life a mean or ignobls
action. There comes a creak upon the
stairs, the door IS opened softly. a head
peers in He-the murderer-enters the
room He knew the custom Of the house
in this warm September weather. the
doors open. the old servant asleep. the
master taking his regular siesta- How
far is he a criminal how far a llunatic1
Is this act premeditated. or the sudden
tempting OF opportunity? Who can sayf
1t is enough that In his diseased inagi-
nation he has come TO regard the sleeper
as an enemy who maiciously set himself
to destroy his theories and TO bring ridi-
cule on the laborious work OF years
His desire for revenge is concentrated
on the man before him.
How the thing came into his pos
session I cannot guess. though that
should be a point easily discovered He
himself may have obtained it from
Africa. or it may have come into his
hands by chance. as the chief of the
chronological Muceum- But he has it
safe enough shut up in the Tin box
which fell from his pocket n your
rooms The spring OF the Id was de-
fecttve, you may remember; ( is that
same defective spring that VII hang
him,
He stands over there. lisening ana
watching There is no soun6i the sleep
er will not wake. he opens he case up
on the dressing table ard lifts the
thing with tweezers-fOr Every hair OF
IL has its poison. With SCISSORS ne cuts
of some score of HAIRS, tatching them
in the crease of a folded sheet of note
paper. He replaces 1t il the case and
closes the lid. Like al ugly shadow
he fits across to the ouch, kneels BY
its side, and one. Two. tlree times blogs
the hairs from the cretsed paper across
the intake of the slefper's breath he
turns. saatches up the case from the
table and is gone n FIVE hours Prof.
Won Stoekmar is dead OF Inflammation
of the lungs. There is not doctor IN
all Germany who you'd challenge that
diagnosis. In nine hours Prof Rudolf
Aiarnac is accused by me. Henry Grs-
den. OF murder"
But this deahy 'thingr cried.
with a sinking horror az my heart
Gconcluded on Page Five. this seetion.l
The Washington times., 1905-11-12


notion in my head,
from a few random re-
marks in your last two
or three letters, that
you are putting in
good deal of your spare time, and
possibly some you have no right TO
spare. with the boys at the club.
Now, John. I don't purpose to give
YOU a curtain lecture on the evils of
clubs. AS rule they are pretty
good institutions. OF course, there
are clubs and clubs, but there is no
doubt in my mind that the properly
conducted mems club is one Of the
necessities of the present day lie
in the city. I belong to three of
them myself and know their value.
They are not, as some people seem
to believe. n.ere= gambling dens g.
drinking places in disguise. In all
really first class clubs gambling Is
strictly prohibited, and intoxicating
liquors are no more in evidence than
at any respectable hotel. All this. Of
course. you know very well, and
mention it simply to show you right
at the start that I have no feeling
against the club as an institution.
But, my boy, no matter how many
clubs he may belong to. nor how
good they are. they don't alter the
eternal fact that the best place for a
married man after dark is at home.
I'm not in favor of reviving the cur
few law, nor do mean TO say that
a man should never leave the house
at night. I drop into one Of my
clubs in the evening once or twice a
week and I am satisfied that this oc-
casional association with my fellow
men does me good. But I don't
leave home more often than that,
unless your mother goes with me.
and when l go to the club I never
stay late.
When you married Anna May you
assumed an obligation somewhat
broa1er and more binding than is in
volved in the employing Of a house
keeper. A mans duty to his wife is
not ended when he provides her with
food. clothing and shelter. Judging
by actions there are a great many