Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1907-01-16
MARATHON MYSTERY
A Story of Manhattan
BY BURTON E. STEVENSON
Author Of "The Holiday Case
copxrsht 1904 by Henry Holt and comrsn,.
" BURTON E. STEVENSON
Copyright, 1904, by Henry Holt and consan,.
A Story of Manhattan
Author Of "The Holiday Ca.

tn mornIn'. Them fellers what put TIL
carpet down didn't half do their work.
/ tackled a loose place down over there
by tn wall jest afore you moved in"
'Where was it?'' l asked as calmly
as could.
Fright here by this angle" he said,
indicating the place with his foot. II
think maybe I'd better 60 all around
tn walls t'morrer."
Perhaps 1t would be best" said.
'eThank you" And i closed the door
upon him.
The next instant I was down on my
hands and knees tearing away the car
pet, my blood singing in my ears. l
had found them-the clippings-it was
here they must be hidden. But for
those chance tacks driven by the jan
itor Tremaine would have had posses
sion Of them long ago, and perhaps we
should never have penetrated the mys-
terry of Thompson's death. Now it
would be laid bare before us the
whole secret. What little thing it
was that had saved usl
had the carpet loose-I turned 1t
back, and there they lay, that little roll
of clippings, just as they had been
taken from ThompGon's pocketbook.
They were to tell US the whole story
we could not again be led astray.
was quite calm again. picked them
,,v> oocof,ll1, cDd Ioid fIov,, on INV doaIY
Then I washed my hands and filed my
pipe. There was certain exquisite
pleasure in holding myself buck from
them, in tantallzing myself, in defer
ring for moment or two the revela-
ton which was to come.
But at last / sat down and spread
them out on the desk before me. There
were twelve OF them, some only few
lines in length, others Of half column.
OF one there were four copies, but Of
the others only one apiece. They were
tattered and stained from long carry
Ing; some were in English and some
were in French, and they were dated
from places as far apart as Dieppe.
New York. Sydney.
piled them carefully beside me and
started hopefully on the task Of de-
ciphering them-of piecing together the
story they had to tell me. But the
farther 1 proceeded the more my
spirits fell, for they told 10 story, they
seemed to have no relation to each
other-no common thread. Apparently,
they had been gathered aimlessly at
haphazard to satisfy the whim of the
moment. Ots, chronicled wreck ut
sea; another bank robbery; a third
an escape from prison; fourth was
merely marriage notice; fifth told
Of row In sailors dive, and SO on
down the list. They were about differ
ent people-friends OF Thompson's, per
haps; none Of them had any connec-
ton with 1'remaine; they told no story,
furnished no clew, shed not ray Of
light on the mystery-they were abso-
lutely worthless.
I laid them down In despair. Yet If
they were worthless, why had Miss
Croydon taken thenl7 Why had Ire
maine sought for them7 Were they
mistaken too? Had they imagined the
clippings told secret which in fact
they did not tell? But perhaps they
did tell it-perhaps had overlooked 1t.
They must have some connection with
the tragedy Why could l not per-
ceive it?
ran through them feverishly again
but with Ee better result. At last
laid them ce.wn and took up my pipe
I must submit them to keener brain
than mine. II Godfrey were only herel
I heard 4 step come down the hall
stop at my door. Some one knocked.
hastily stuffed the clippings into
my pocket and opened the door. But
It was not Tremaine who stood there
It was Godfrey.
'sWell, Of all thingsv' cried. II waa
Just wishing for you. Come In"
With that quiet smile Of his he step
ped over the threshold.
'AThat must mean you've got some
new problem to solve" he said, still
smiling.
II have; the worst yet; impenetrabls
AZ the countenance Of the sphinx. But
first give me your coat and hat"
They were dripping with water. and
for the drst time heard the rain beat