Northern Wisconsin advertiser. [volume] (Wabeno, Wis.) 1898-1925, 1911-09-01

stopped close beside him that they
looked up.
Il see you are an artist, Mr. Girls
wold,' remarked the sleuth, his eyes
on the paper under the clubman'S pen
Gil
Griswold was genuinely surprised.
For the first time, he seemed to be-
come aware of the shape his idle ira
cling on the pad had taken. In the
course of his brief chat with Mrs.
Missioner, he had sketched clearly
accurately, artistically, not only the
room, but the great safe at the for
Their end-sketched them far better
have done in as many hours. His
drawing, almost automatic, showed
the subconscious skill of-to say the
least-an excellent amateur.
Why, that's so' he said, holding
up the drawing indifferently. His
prowess with the pencil was an old
story to the widow and his rival. Girls
void tossed the pad and pencil on the
table and resumed his talk with Mrs.
Missioner, turning the coolest of cold
shoulders toward the sleuth
But Britt was not to be shouldered
aside so easily. He addressed himself
toward the widow, winning her instant
attention with his first query:
Has Miss Holcomb ever told you
much about her last year in Smith,"
he asked.
Mrs. MissiOner's eyesbrows arched.
Nothing important enough to re-
member, Mr.. Britt she said, staring
incredulously The detective had al
ready assured her warmly of his be-
lief in Elinor's innocence Could it be
he was not going to clear the girl
after all?
You know nothing of her engage
ment to a Harvard undergraduate,
them" he persisted
The widow shook her head
Before her father lost his fortune,
mean,' said the sleuth.
Neither before nor after, Mr..
Britt" replied Mrs. Missioner, rising
impatiently. Miss Holcomb, being a
beauty, naturally received a great
deal of attention, but l never heard OF
a betrOthal.'
Lieutenant Britt, still standing be-
fore the hearth, moved to let Mrs.
Missioner pass. The widow pushed
aside the heavy hangings of a window
and peered into the twilight backed
by the trees in the park. Britt,
having moved, took another step.
Those gray eyes of his shifted so rap
idly they were upon the three others
almost simultaneously. So gradually,
so slowly did he approach the table
mat no one noticed his hand upon it.
Resting that hand upon the edge, he
went on:
Il am sorry you are not more min
utely informed concerning Miss Hol-
combs university days" Slowly his
fingers extended until the tips rested
on the tiny pad. In a case like this,
the smallest knowledge may be OF
value" Slowly, ever so slowly, the
fingers contracted, drawing the pad
with them. perhaps if you make an
effort, you can recall something about
the-the prisoners past, Mrs. Mis-
sioner?" The pad was in his hand.
Deity he tore off the top sheet and
inclosed it in his fingers. AS the
widow started to speak, and entirely
unObserved by Griswold or Sands, the
detective slipped that agile hand into
his pocket When the hand came out
it was empty.
NO" said the rich woman with
more emphasis than would be expect
ed of her large good nature, Il can
recall nothing. | am sure there IS
nothing TO recall. You must look else
where if you seek to forge links in q
chain of evidence against Miss Hol-
comb. l have told you all know
all could possibly know"
That being the case" said Britt
Sriskly, there is nothing more to say.
With your permission, | will send a
draughtsman to make plans of the
room and diagrams of the safe" He
hesitated L suppose these little art
gems Of mine" he resumed with dry
smile, may as we'll meet the fate
they deserve" With a quick move
ment, he threw all the sheets of paper
on the table and the pad as we'll into
the heart of the fire.
Guess I'll say 'Good-afternoon, a"
and with a bow to Mrs. Missioner and
the coolest Of mods to the men, he left
the room, the widows detached Good
afternoon, Mr. Britt" floating after
him.
Was he mistaken, Britt asked him
self as he walked quickly along the
passage, or. did he see a pair of eyes
beneath a towering turban peer at
him from the corner of a cross corri-
dor? He made a mental note to have
the Hindoo servant watched more
closely as, treating Blodgett's lofti-
ness with eXasperating Indifference,
he tripped down the steps of the Mis-
sioner mansion, and hurried along a
path in the park. Once in the shelter
of the shadows, the detective quick
ened his pace. heading south.
He stopped under the low-hanging
bough OF a great oak tree to get
better light. AS he was about to