The Washington times., 1912-05-03
CHAPTER I.
The Experience Of Mr.. VIM. Gettys.

~
" the curtain will never be
solved satisfactorily. 1t Is,
perhaps, my duty to set forth the facts
as they are known 10 me personally and
through the statements of those VINO
were sworn by the coroner.
1t is unfortunate that my own knoWl-
edge Of the affair should be limited TO
earlier matters than those which en-
gagged the amazed interest Of the ponce
and the public: But am man Wh2se se
&c read of. things OF certain neturS,
never have had any great desire to
experience them in reality. TINS traiI
was the bar between Marcus Belialr
Ii is more than unfortunate, however;
that this extraordinary man shoHla
fhHf thHt h%h have no il t'sns myse in any
views sIi and so forth: but IN Marcus Bel
nisynr 'dr = was IN whch Shs 9Ps he SSt ad no sk
more ore Greek. e i I may SsE parody the say
ing. He would wax UNEXPECTEDLY stsrs en-
and, although he had no accomplish,
nent among. musical Instruments. I
have heard him, in his rare moments
Of gayety hum through the greater part
Yet he either could not. or would not,
write. He made no notes and wrote
ments of any value written by him
which I am able to bring forward. Two
are letters which 1 believe are still in
the hands Of Coroner 6S MeCready' ;on,d;y The
statement which, If he had finished 1t,
might have saved the labor of editing
these narratives and at the same time
given the world definite solution Of the
mystery. I offer the fragment for what
II may be worth, although, perhaps,
should place 1t at the end Of the story.
However, here IL is:
"At the moment Of writing know that
I have overstepped the boundary line
drawn by the Creator He who made us
what we are; cast me in q mold design
ed for one Marcus Bellair. l lived as
the Creator intended l should until the
love Of science, and afterward curiosity
aud conceit. led me to touch whore no
human hand has right of way. Now l.,
Marcus Bellair, repent knowing ~
And there 1t breaks Off
Certainly, Marcus Bellair was the
queerest friend I ever had. I knew him
many years ago when we were at Yale
together. remember him then as a
tall young man of very expressive face
and manner. Few of the students liked
him: not many understood him and his
varying moods of dependency and las
situde, his recklessness bordering upon
madness through which shone a sub
lime clearness of intellect One moment
he would be virile as his cameo-like
features, and again tender and roman
tic.
1t Is probable that his unpopularity at
Yale was due to certain repellent
mood which was upon him three-ffths
'of the time. Then no one spoke to him.
His paiiId face and smoidcIing eyes
filled the beholder with a mysterious
fear of the man.
He did nothing worthy of record
while at Yale When 1 graduated and
. considered my own future I chose travel
as an occupation suited to my tastes.
Thus, did not see Marcus Bellair for
many years, and then the meeting was
accidental
1t was on Broadway one winter night,
just after theaters were out. He was
standing before a brightly illumined
window peering at new model of a
phonograph. He was so preoccupied
time. To put the matter strictly, I was
very much changed. having lived In
Germany for some years and adopted
that countrys fashion in hirsute adorn.
ment.
lie invited me to supper at his rooms
and I accepted. I canno. say that he
impressed me AS cheerful host, but
there was a reserve about him which
respe ted. His inquiries after nv own
y health, welfare, and movements were sc
worded that evasion would have beer
ensy had one desired n'e 70 keep ones c0un
still repelling. SO that | found myself
curious to know more about him with
o9t the desire to ask;
Fe volunteered the information that
he had leased the brownstone house in
which VIC supped.
u am we'll to do" he. said. But
like quiet. No Globe-trotter. like YOUR
self. can touch the heart of the
world without leaving my study"
His eyes fell upon me with that old
burning .rTepellance, as II to cay: dc
7 rememher feeling the unspoken com
ncand at the moment. and recalled thu
words he had Just uttered.
ne otttIxy IN nyhi hn "a
on the floor below. The door had beer
loci;ed as we ascendad to the den OF
the top fiooor, but he waved a hand tC
my chamber Of horrors" he said.
You must show 1t to me some day.
returned.
Mrs Ansein,-mv housekeeper. a yer,
ieen in thera. K sort Of Biuebeard''
chsmnSr, And he fo,d LAUGHED Ugh that he bat
taken up science. especially the scienc,t
of that almost omnipotent-electricit
Later in the evening he reverted to tht
subject with a peculiar earnestnes. On'
would have thought that he was speak
ing of religion.
he he neaGx said a GtheSs s NO we ma
say that some one knows 1t all; but o
this-even the greatest profess to know
least. What Is 1t? Who knows 6u
COO! he may De II anu II may bC iiC
II is sound IT Is light. 1t Is heat. l
is power. 1t is the fall of the apple
Gettys, and who shall say that elec
trlcity Is not that miraculous thin'
which comes and thinks space AM
goes? 1t is everything that We know
and so much more than we can con
ceiVe."
We were smoking a pipe together. HI
stopped and vaguely felt for his moutl
with the pipestem. ! am sure that W
must have sat for twenty minutes Il
silence. Then he awoke.
"You must think me dreadful bore,
he said But I have been so muc
alone that TO have received Visito
who was more of a stranger than you
Gettys, would have been tax upo
my, social ingenuity. I usually carry
off with a patter of nonsense and sin
into the depths the moment the visito
is gone I'm afraid the oyster loves hi
shell"
ITO tell the truth l said, II rathe
enjoy It, There are few people wit
whom I can sit down and say httl
and still be comfortable. You are on
OF the few. mean no compliment,
am afraid. You have always been NOR
or less of a queer chap. Sometimes
don't like you; sometimes ] do; but
am always certain that l would like I
know more OF you"
I stopped, a little confused. He smile
Mt me- through the smoke of his pin"
said he ''h(