The Emmett index. [volume] (Emmett, Idaho) 1893-1925, 1910-08-04

you cowARDs YOU HAVE KILLED NJ,
DoGH
the picture with my magnifying glass
when | heard the wOman's step out
side. so ! slipped 1t into my pocket.
las soon as | was outside | jumped
into a cab and drove to the princi
pal photographers in Brussels. There
were three of them. and at each place
| showed this picture and asked how
much 1t would cost to copy 1t. The
first two were perfectly businessllke
but the third man gave a little start
and looked at me In an odd way. l
made up my mind he had seen the pic
ture before, but couldn't get anything
out of him. From here | drove
straight to police headquarters and
had talk with the chief. An hour
later that photographer was ready to
tell me the innermost secrets of his
soul. He told me he made this picture
Of Alice and the widow only six weeks
ago"
"Six weeks agor' stared the other.
But the widow told you 1t was taken
FIVE years ago. Besides Alice wasn't
In Brussels six weeks ago. was she"
"Of course not. The picture was a
fake. made from a genuine one of
Alice and a lady. perhaps her mother
This photographer had blotted out the
lady and printed In the widow with
out changing the pose. It's a simple
trick In photography"
You saw the genuine picture?"
"Of course-that is, | saw a repro
duction of it which the photographer
made on his own account He suspect
ed some crooked work' and he didn't
like the man who gave him the order"
You mean the woodcarver|
Coquenil shrugged his shoulders.
Call him a woodcarver, call him what
you like; he didn't go to the photog-
rapher in his woodcarver disguise. He
went as a gentleman in a great hurry
and willing to pay any price for the
work"
And the smooth young widow liedY
"Lied!' snapped the detective saw
agely. II should say she did"
Then" cried Tignol excitedly-"t
Groener is not a woOdcarverp
He may be a woOdcarver, but he's a
great deal more. He-he"- Coquenil |
hesitated, and then. with eyes blazing |
and nostrils dilating. he burst out: |
IF know anything about my bust
ness he's the man who gave me that |
eft handed jolt under the heart He's
the man who choked your shrimp
He's the man who kill
ID Martinez
Name OF a green dogr' muttered
rignol
Coquenil went on. He isn't her
ousin, and she isn't Alice, and he will
,e ut Bonueton's house tomorrow"
"Wha-at?"
Her name is Mary, and he is her
How do you know that?" :
Coquenil smiled II found an in
.Tiption on the back Of that Brussels .
iotograph-l mean the genuine one.
was hidden under hinged support. .
nd Groener must have overlooked it. .
hat was his second great mistake.
read, TO my dear husband. Raoul, !
'om his devoted wife. Margaret, and
err little Mary You notice it says
err little Mary. That one word throws :
food of light on this case. The
hid was not his little Mary"
Il see see" reflected the old man.
And Alice? Does she know that
lat she isn't Alice?"
mo"
"See here" suddenly said Coquenil: !
we've talked too much. You must /,
urry back TO Alice. Better take an
ITO. And. remember, Papa Tignol,"
2 added in final warning. there is
)thing so important as to guard this !
RI"
A few moments later, with Caesar !
happily at his side. NJ. Paul /,
ltered the quieter paths of the great 7
lrk. With the dog at his heels NJ /,
lul turned his steps toward a beauti- /.
Il cool glade. Here he came into r
ain view of company of ladies and
'ntlemen who, having witnessed the
view, had chosen this delightful spot
r luncheon. They were evidently
IN and fashionable people, for they
i'd come as coaching party on a ii
ry smart break. with four beautiful
rises. and some in flashing red and
ack automobile that was now drawn |
} beside the larger vehicle. Coque-
rs interest was heightened when be
erheard passing couple say that
csc were the guests of no less per-
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