The Washington herald. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1906-1939, 1913-06-22

cover up his lack of proof. IF we could
only get ahold of him we'd soon have
a solution to this here mystery. He had
a key to the front gate: he must a
come back to destroy that evidence
| found on the dog: there weren't no
chance for him to pass Alert when he
was doing his work. It's a cinch. He
just went in an pulled the trick in the
fifteen minutes between my rounds. but
how in hell he got past that dog is by
me-"
/ 1t couldn't be done. That dogs a
devil, no human bein' could a done 1t.
\ the detective summed up emphatica.ly
| Besides, the guy couldn't have got
| through any door or window except one
the dog was watchin', an nobody could
have got in there without the dog wak.n
up the whole town. 1t amt human, that s
all got to say. But you're right: IL W.
could find that guy in the black derby
an that sausage skin we'd soon have !
| solution"
The square-chested man in the black
derby was Christopher Poe, the New York
banker, spending a much-needed vaca-
| ton in the carnival city. He had no
| sooner shut the Dubois gate behind him
and stuffed the skinlike object into his
pocket than he slipped through the col
lecting crowd dexterously. without toucn.
ing any Of the Onlookers or attracting at
! tentin by any unusual move. He walked
| to the corner without once turning
| around, crossed the street and returned
briskly to the edge of the crowd just In
| time to hear Hopkins cross-questioning
| the small boy.
Poe nodded his head with the rest and
| agreed quickly with somebody who had
pointed out at random the direction he
had taken. AS a member of the crowd.
At cfx h. ~lt-
, unnoticeable. He stayed no longer than
| the rest, and said just like everybody
| else in parting from the man who stood
| next to him, I'll bet II was the Teller
in the derby hat Wonder what II was
the kid said he took off the dog.
Having heard all the facts and conjec-
| lures, Poe walked to the corner again,
turned up the side street and paced
| slowly down Bourbon past a block of
cheap lodging houses. largely occupied
| by vaudeville artists, travelling fakirs,
and other true Bohemians. Each old
| house had. like many OF the dwellings in
| the French quarter of New Orleans. a
court yard in the rear. divided from the
courts on Royal Street by high brick
walls.
Stopping at the house whose courtyard
backed directly onto that of old Dubois +,
Christopher Poe inserted a skeleton key
/ IN the simple lodglng house lock, twisted
J it sharply twice, glanced up and down
! the street. opened the door. and stepped
in, closing it quickly after him and
and standing motionless at the spot
where his first step had brought him.
That he was listening intently was dis
closed by his suspended breath. In that
moment one would hardly have described
him as Hopkins had-a human blank
His intense violet eyes were focused to-
ward the top of the dim winding old
| staircase mounting in front of him. his
mouth was drawn into a firm, purpose
full line: his form looked 1.-THE and strong
he seemed the very embodiment of some
| forceful idea. His pose was histrionic
He seemed to have thrown himself into
! part he was going to play.
Soon stealthy footsteps from above
| shuffied through the silence. Poe re-
moved his derby. outer coat, tie. and
shoes in a series of quick movements
Running firm fingers through his up
standing brown hair, he mussed il I'D,
and with the same motion snatched a
fawn-colored, theatric rain-coat from the