Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1910-03-30

L. 49, al
~The Stains You ses and the Hole
Lefk by the Dirk"
hall and the creak Of the boards as
she came heavily up the stairs. She
had . piece q paper In her hand torn
from q pocket aeeount-booK, and on 1t
was the name. "NF. Wilson BHdd
Hotehkiss. Important business"
ooh. well. show him up," said re-
sigaedly. You'd better put those
cards away. Richey. fancy it's the
rector Of the church around the cor
neP."
But when the door opened to admit
q curiously alert little man, adjusting
his glasses with nervous fingers, my
face must have shown my dismay.
It was the amateur detective Of the
Ontario!
l shook hands without enthusiasm.
Here WAS the one survivor Of the
wrecked car who could do me any
amount Of harm. There was no hope
that he had forgotten any of the in
eliminating details. In fact, he held
In his hand the very notebook which
contained them.
His manner was restrained, but 1t
was evident he was highly excited.
introduced him to Mcknight, who has
the imagination 1 lack, and who
placed him at once, mentally.
ST only learned yesterday that you
had been-er-saved," he said rapid
ly Terrible accident-unspeaka
Dream about it all night and think
about it all day. Broken arm?"
mo. He just wears the splint to
be different from other people," Nc
Knight drawled lazily. l glared at
him; there was nothing to be gained
by antagonizing the little man.
Eyes, a fractured humerus, which
isn't as funny as it sounds"
"Humerus- Pretty good"
he cackled. 81 must say you keep up
your spirits pretty well. considering
everything"
You seem to have escaped injury"
1 parted. He was fumbling for some
thing in his pockets.
4
stractedly. Remarkable thing, too.
/ haven't doubt would have broken
my neck, but landed on-you1l never
guess what! 1 landed head first on
the very pillow which was under in.
spection at the time of the wreck You
remember, don't you? Where did
put that package?"
e1,,-5 Is GroI1xr ond ~vav.OSs - ~,
a table, displaying with some theatric.
alism a rectangular piece of muslin
and a similar patch of striped tick.
ing.
You recognize it?' he said. 1.-The
stains, you see, and the hole made by
the dirk / tried to bring away the
entire pillow, but they thought l was
stealing it, and made me give it up"
Richey touched the pieces gingerly.
"By George" he said, "and you carry
that around in your pocket! What if
you should mistake it for your hand
kerchief?"
But Mr.. Hotchkiss was not listen
ing. He stood bent somewhat for
ward, leaning over the table, and fixed
me with his ferret-like eyes.
"Have you seen the evening papers,
Mr.. Blakeley?" he inquired.
1 glanced to where they lay I'M
opened, and shook my head.
"Then l have a disagreeable task"
he said with evident relish "Of
course, you had considered the matter
of the man Harrington's death closed,
after the wreck. did myself. AS far
as l was concerned, l meant to let it
remain so. There we're no other sur
vivors, at least none that | knew OF,
and in spite Of circumstances, there
were a number Of points in your IA
vor.
81 verified your identity, for in
stance, as soon as l recovered from
the shock AlSo--I found on inquiring
of your tailor that you invariably wore
dark clothing"
Mcknight came forward threatening
ly. who are you, anyhow" he de-
manded. "And how is this any bust
ness of yoUrs?" Mr.. Hotchkiss was
entirely unrufled
81 have a minor position here" he
said, reaching for visiting card. L
am very small patch on the seat OF
government, sir"
Mcknight muttered something about
certain offensive designs against the
said patch and retired grumbling to
the window. Our visitor was opening
the paper with a tremendous eXpendi-
ture Of energy.
"Here it is. Listen" He read rap
idly aloud:
'The Pittsburg police have sent to
Baltimore two detectives who are
looking up the survivors Of the i'll
fated Washington Filler 1t has trans
pired that Simon Harrington, the
Wood street merchant of that city,
was not killed in the wreck, but was
murdered in his berth the night pre-
ceding the accident. Shortly before
the collision, John Flanders, the con
ductOr of the Filler sent this telegram