Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1910-03-11
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The apartment, save IN the hallway.
was unlishted. BY one Of those freaks
II arrangement possible only In the
modern fat, I found the kitchen first,
and was struck a smart and unex-
Dected blow by a swinging door. I
carried q handful of matches, and by
the time I had passed through q but
ler's pantry and q refrigerator room I
was completely lost in the darkness.
Until then the situation had been
merely uncomfortable: suddenly it be-
came grisly. From somewhere a
came a long.sustained groan, followed
almost instantly by the crash of some
thtng-glass or china-on the door.
I struck a fresh match, and found
myself in q narfow rear hallway. Be-
hind me was the door by which I must
have come; with a keen desire to get
back to the place I had started from,
I opened the door and attempted to
the room. I thought I had kept
my sense of direction, but I crashed
without warning into what, from the
resulting jangle, was the dining table,
probably laid for dinner. I cursed my
stupidity in getting into such a sit
r2f1on, M I cursed my nerves for
making my hand shake when I tried
TO strike q match. The groan had not
been repeated.
I braced myself against the table
and struck the match sharply against
the sole of my shoe. It dickered
family and went out. And then, with
out the slightest warning, another dish
went OF the table. 1t fell with a
Thousand ~splinterings; the very air
pf sound. I stood still, braced against
The table. holding the red end Of the
dying match, and listened. I had not
long to wait; tho groan came again,
md I recognised 1t, the cry Of . dog
In straits. I breathed again.
"Come. old fellow" I said. "Come
On, old man. Let's have Q look at
you"
I could hear the thud OF his tail on
Ak0 ANVIL OuO 10 u10 A0S AxSvOs A4S
only whimpered. There is something
companionable in the presence of a
dog. and I fancied this dog in trouble.
Slowly I began to work my way
around the table toward him.
"Good boy" I said, as he whimpered.
"We'n find the light, which ought to
be somewhere or other around here,
md then"
I stumbled over something, and I
Did I step on you, old man?" I ex-
claimed. and bent to pat him. I re-
nGmbsr str~ightening suddenly and
hearing the dog pad softly toward
me- around the table. I recall even
khat I had put the matches down and
could not find them. Then, with a
bursting horror Of the room and its
contents. of the gibbering dark
around me, I turned and made for the
door by which I had entered.
I could not find it. I felt along the
endless wainscoting, past miles of
wall. The dog was beside me, I think,
but he was part and parcel now, to
my excited mind, with the Thing un-
der the table. And when, after aeons
Of search, I found a knob and STUN
bled into the reception hall, / was as
nearly in a panic as any mar could
be.
I was myself again in a second, and
by the light from the hall I led the
way back to the tragedy I had Stun
bled or. Bronson still sat at the table,
his elbows propped on it, his cigarette
still lighted, burning a hole in the
cloth. Partly under the table lay
Mrs. Conway, face down. The dog
stood over her and wagged his tail.
Mcknight pointed silently to a large
copper ash tray, filed with ashes and
charred bits Of paper.
1.-THE notes, probably" he said rue
fully. "He got them after all, and
burned them before her. It was more
than she could stand. Stabbed him
Arst and then herself"
Hotchkiss got up and took on his
hat. "They are dead" he announced
solemnly, and took his notebook out
Of his hatband.
Mcknight and / did the only thing
we could think of-drove Hotchkiss
and the dog out OF the room, ana
closed and locked the door. "Its q
matter for the police" Mcknight as
serted. II suppose you've got an on
Ger tied to you somewhere. Lawrence?
You usually have"
We left Hotchkiss in charge and
went downstairs. It was Mcknight
who first saw Johnson, leaning against
q park railing across the street, and
called him over. We told him in a few
words what we had found, and he
grfnned at me cheerfuHiJ.
after awhile, in a few weeks or
months, Mr.. Blakeley," he said. when
you get tired Of monkeying around
with the hlond-stain and finRer.nrint |