The Mobridge news. [volume] (Mobridge, Walworth Co., S.D.) 190?-1917, 1910-07-29
CHAPTER 1.
I Go 10 Pittsbura.

b9Sh ~ DlL ONuGdIllDus NlNSh q NNoN
like that, where you can build up a
network OF clews that absolutely in
criminate three entirely different peo-
pie, only one of whom can be guilty,
and your faith in circumstantial evil
dense diey of overcrowding. | never
see a shivering, white-faced wretch in
the prisoners dock that ] do not bark
back with shuddering horror to the
strange events on the Pullman car
Ontario, between Washington and
Pittsburg, on the night of September
9, last.
Mcknight could tell the story a
great deal better than |, although he
cannot spell three consecutive words
correctly. But, while he has imagi-
nation and humor, he is lazy.
1T didn't happen to me, anyhow"
ne protested, when ! put it up to him.
"And nobody cares for secondhand
thrills. Besides, you want the I'M
vanished and ungarnished truth, and
I'm no hand for that. I'm a lawyer"
SO am /, although there have been
times when my assumption In that
particular has been disputed. | am
unmarried, and just old enough to
dance with the grown-up little sisters
of the girls l used to know. / am fond
of outdoors, prefer horses to the afore-
said grown-up little sisters, and with
out sentiment cam" crossed out and
was" substitute d.-Ed.) and COM
pletely ruled and frequently routed by
my housekeeper, an elderly widow.
In fact, of ali the men Of my ac-
duaintance, ! was probably the most
prosaic, the least adventurous, the
a man in a hundred who would be
likely to go without a deviation from
the normal through the orderly pro-
cession of the seasons, summer suits
to winter flannels, golf to bridge.
So 1t was a queer freak Of the de-
mons of chance to perch on my un-
susceptible 30-year-old chest, tie me
up with a crime, ticket me with a
love affair, and start me on that SEN
Eational and not always respectable
Journey that ended so surprisingly less
than three weeks later in the firms
private office. 1t had been the most
remarkable period of my life. | would
neither give It up nor live it again
under any indGcement, and yet all
that lost was some 90 yards off my
1t was really Meningitis TURF to
make the next Journey. ] had o
tournament at Chevy Chase for Satuy-
day, and a short yacht cruise planned
for Sunday, and when a man has been
grinding at statute law for a week, he
needs relaxation. But Mcknight
begged off. 1t was not the first time
he had shirked that summer in order
to run down to Richmond, and | was
surly about 1t. But this time he had
4 new excuse.
II wouldD't be able to look after the
business II ' did 60" he said. He has
a sort OF wide-eyed frankness that
makes a ashamed to doubt him.
"Tm always car sick crossing the
mountains. It's a fact, Lollie. See
sawiug over the peaks does it. Why,
crossing the Allegheny mountains has
the gulf stream to Bermuda beaten to
q FRAGILE"
So / gave him UP finally and went
home to pack. He came later in the
evening with his machine, the Can
nonball. to take me to the station. and
he brought the forged notes in the
Bronson case.
Guard them with your life." he
warned me. They are more precious
man honor. Sew them in your chest
protector. or wherever people keep
yaluahles. / never keep any. I'll not.
be happy until l see Gentleman Andy
doing the iockstepss
He sat down on my clean collars,
found my cigarettes and struck a
match on the mahogany bed post with
one movement
Where's the Pirate?' he demanded.
The Pirate Is my housekeeper, Mrs.
Klopton, a very worthy woman, SO
labeled-and libeled-because of a re-
roclous pair of eyes and what Nc
Knight called a ~bucaneering nose. 1
quietly closed the door into the hall.
Keep your voice down. Richey." /
said. "She is looking for the evening
paper to see II ii is going to rain she
has my ~raincoat ana an umbrella wait
Ing in the hall"
The collars being damaged beyond
repair, he left them and went to the
window. He stood there for some
time. staring at the blackness that
represented the wall q the house
next door.
ITS raining now" he said over his
shoulder. and closed the window and
the shutters. Something Ia his voice
made me glance up. but he was watch.
Ing me. his hands IDLY in his pockets.
who lives next door, he inquired
In a parfpnctory tone, after 4 pause.
was packing my razor,
House is empty, / returned absent
II. IL the iardiosI woaid pat Il in
sensa sort Of shape
Did VOL DDg tf0sA UDfes IN your
$.~e1rnk an S.n n~na<n