The comet. (Johnson City, Tenn.) 1884-1916, 1912-07-18

| tue. OOClOT LdUTlShle SIOUX MS uedu
Stepping to the side of the bed h,
barred the dead mans left breast.
Look there" he pointed. A minute
red puncture like a pimple, hardly
bigger than pinhead. discolored tho
lean flesh. The inspector, man o.
few words, raised his eyebrows ques
uoningly. You think" he was be
ginning, when the more volatile Ia
briskie interrupted in tense whisper
hand to mouth:
That's what killed him. The hear
was punctured by some exceedingly
fine weapon-so fine that there was
no external bleeding. He must have
died instantly"
Valentine nodded as he rose from
inspecting the tiny spot, scarcely no
ticeable to the unskilled eye. He had
too much faith in Zabriskie's skill to
| question his diagnosis.
Anything been disturbed?" he
asked in that muffied tone with which
the most hardened observers pay
homage to the king of terrors.
Nothing. Neither his niece nor
the woman of the house know any
thing as yet. except the bare fact of
death. AS coroner, of course, the case
comes within my jurisdiction, but so
far l am here merely as the nearest
regular practitioner. 1t rests between
you and me. Undoubtedly a crime has
been committed, but whoever did 1t
has made a clean getaway, guess"
I'D like to look around" said Valen-
tine, stepping into the back parlor
where Caleb Winnett had his Office.
rs this where you found him?" point
ing to roomy revolving chair which
was pushed back from the tidily-ar-
ranged table-desk.
Exactly. He was all hunched over
on his right side, one arm nearly
touching the floor. This chair here"
pointing to an ordinary cane straight
backed seat, "stood facing his left.
The folding doors were closed when
| arrived"
Inspector Valentine took a position
directly behind the empty swivel
chair and his eyes swept the we'll
ordered room. A bookcase occupied
one recess, a small steel safe the
other; there was no window, the mid
die room being lighted from the rear
extension or from the front parlor,
like hundreds Of similar New York
houses. A few steel engravings of
commonplace subjects hung on the
walls; the furniture was of the black
walnut and hair-cloth epoch; plain
tapestry carpet worn white in spots
covered the floor, save rag-rug for
a foot-rest before the desk.
Evidently the dead millionaire had
not cared to squander his money on
modern furniture or fal-lals. All was
dingy and dreary; the furnishings of
the parlor and sleeping room were
equally ordinary and colorless. And
yet that sordid clearinghouse back.
parlor had doubtless witnessed many
a tragedy eliminating in one that had
cost the ayaricious webspinner his
life.
Go out and make some calls; come
back in an hour" was Valentines
curt request to Zabriskie when he had
completed his eaglelike survey, land
don't talk"
The doctor nodded, stepped into the
third room for his case of instruments
and medicines and tiptoed to the door.
Valentine, at his heels, closed and
locked 1t after him. Then, lighting
every gas-burner, his manner changed
instanter; he became as alert as
terrier nosing out rat. Now on his
knees, now peering into corners, then
lifting and shaking every paper on the
desk, he literally turned that .dingy
apartment inside out and upside down;
yet his methods were so adroit that
not even the lynx-eyed Caleb Winnett
himself could have told that his sane
tum had been invaded.
At the end of twenty minutes thor
ough, search, the detective gave
grunt of satisfaction and rose to his
feet. He had been cropping among
the heavy chenille fringe at the bot
tom of the double portiere which half
screened the folding doors. Approach.
ing the food Of light under the four
armed chandelier he held in his fingers
q small glittering object. rounded and
fat Laying 1t in the palm Of the |
other hand he turned it over and over.
A small hole on the palmer and under
side proved the thing to be the gold |
and silver fligree head Of a woman's |
long hat-pin! That was all; for, |
search as he would. the missing shank |
was not to be found, nor did either of
the other rooms yield any better re-
suit.
Precisely at the expiration of thirty |
Doctor Zabriskie raped on
the door, which Valentine opened.
then closed.
You're sure as to the manner OF |
death?" was the query which met
him.
Perfectly" was the quiet reply
"a stiletto?" asked Valentine, his
gray eyes blazing.
We'll, yes, provided it was as fine
and slender as Shakespeare's bodkin.
But they don't make them nowadays"
"No-but hat-pins, yes!" declared
the detective. opening his hand and
showing the glittering bauble. There's