The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1912-07-12


 my excuse for lettering on the pave ment and went on. It sounded involv- ed for novice, but if could find An derson's drugstore could find Mamie Brennan Through Mamie Brennan I would get Della and through Della I might find Carter, and so made the first note in my new business of man hunter
 1t was late when I reached the cor. ner of Chestnut and Union streets. where Fred had said Allan Fleming had come to grief in 9 cab. But the corner man had gone, and the night man on the beat knew nothing, of course of any particular collision.
 went home to bed. had made no headway, had lost conceit with my self and day and evening at the of fee, and had gained the certainty that Margery Fleming was safe in BelIwood and the uncertain address of a servant who might know something about Mr. Fleming.
 was still awake at 1 o'clock and There were twelve Andersons in the city who conducted drugstores. When finally went to sleep dream ed that I was driving Margery Elem ing along a street in broken taxicab and that all the buildings were phar- mAcies and numbered eleven twenty two.
 After such a night slept late. Edith had gone out with Fred when came downstairs have a great admiration for Edith, for her tolerance with my uncertain hours, for her cheery break fast room and the smilingegood nature of the servants she engages. have, theory that, show me sullen servant and I will show you sullen mistress, although Edith herself disclaims all responsibility and lays credit for the smile with which Katie brings in my eggs and coffee to laFgess on my part.
 On that particular morning Katie brought me a letter, and recognized the cramped and rather uncertain writing of Miss Jane Maitland.
 Dear Mir. Knox-Sister Letitia wishes me to ask you if you can dine with us tonight informally. She has changed her mind in regard to the CoIored Orphans home and would like to consult you about 1t. Very truly yours,
 SUSAN JANE MAITLAND. It was a very commonplace note. had had one like it after every board meeting of the orphans home, Miss Maitland being on principle an aggres- sive minority; also, having considera- ble mind, changing it became almost as ponderous an operation assmoving 8 barn.
 came across Miss Jane's letter the other day when I was gathering the material for this narrative, and sat for time with it in my hand think ing over again the chain of events in which it had been the first link, a se- ries of strange happenings that began with my acceptance of the invitation, and that led through ways as dark and tricks as vain as Bret Harte's Heather Chinee ever dreamed of to the final scene at the White Cat. With the. letter had fled away a hAlf dozen articles, and I ranged them all on the desk in front of me the letter, the bit of paper with elev- en twenty-two on it that Margery gave me the first time saw her, a. a.note- book filled with jerky characters that looked like Arabic and were newspa- per shorthand, a railroad schedule, a bullet, the latter slightly fattened; 8 cube shaped piece of chalk, which put back in It's box with a shudder and labeled Poison" and small gold buckle from slipper, which I-af which did not shudder.
 did not need to make the iclimaxes of my story. They lay before me.
 At Il o'clock Hunter called up. He said he was going after the affair him. self, but that it was hard to stick a dip net into the political puddle with out pulling out lot more than you went after or than it was healthy to get. He wanted to know if had come across any more K. v's. Where upon put away the notes I had made about Della and Mamie Brennan.
 Twn xaa Fsnw$sr,.Aya