The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1913-05-23
The Clue on the KEYS
Copyright. by w. G. Chapman.)

L'Amour est Mort
Whatever that is
Its French for When Love Is
Dead Now are you beginning to
see?'
Plain as mud
81 allowed myself to grow serious
then. l knew that | was working on
a mighty slim amount of evidence
That bloodstain might have come on
the keys in hundred different ways
and yet, there was that peculiar coin.
cidence that the room was not robbed
making the motive for killing some
thing besides greed; there was the
fact that no doubt the killing was
done by a man, and if it was done by
him, the motive must have been ven
And so, in spite of my misgivings,
felt rather certain in my own heart
that the man who had played the pi.
ano was the same one who had killed
the girl. But with that, l had not
progressed so very far, and | knew it,
So turned to the detective.
Jim | said, I've got little bunch
on this thing. 1t may be right, and
then again it may all be wrong. I'm
going out to look up little angle
You go ahead and see what you can
find out and then we'll get together
again, later on
cti or1u 4 he
work that wanted to do, and so !
started to my house to attend to an
important duty of the night, the tuck
ing away in bed of my little kiddie,
and giving her the goodnight kiss
That's one thing l never can forget,
my home life and the little kiddie
there. 1t keeps me from risking many
things that l might risk-and the
keeping away from those risks has
saved me more times than one. It's
not best to be too foolhardy in this
business.
And SO l went out home, stayed
there and sang the little girl to sleep
and then / hurried downtown again.
1t was far after ten by this time and
my work was about to begin.
81 had changed my dress. l had
rouged my cheeks and blackened my
eyebrows. My lips bore a coating of
carmine. | was a burlesque queen,
in from long run of tank towns and
taking a first good look at a big city
after many months of absence. And,
Of course, l was travelling as fast as
was possible.
The loop district was my first stop.
Cafe after cafe / entered, to linger
a while, watch the crowds and listen
to the music, and then take my cab
again for another place. Gradually
the loop district was worked. | start
ed south, down toward the line of
cafes which fringed Michigan avenue
and lower State street. A moment or
two spent in each place, but finally
there came one at which l fingered.
The piano player was of different
type from the ordinary men who work,
ed in the orchestras. There was
something about his eyes that bespoke
a veritable craze for music. TALL
slender, yet strong, his body swayed
with the rhythm of the melody he
played, his head shook with the
humping OF the keys, while his
whole soul seemed entwined in the
music he was pounding forth. Some
thing within my brain snapped. l sud
denly became nervous as l watched
him. | felt that | was shaking with
a sensation l could not fathom. There
was something about that man which
made me desire to seize him, to drag
to a police station. l guess there's q
lot of intuition in me, l don't know
Just the same, felt that the cabmar
outside would not have to carry me
any farther; if my theory was any
good at all. here was the person tC
try working it out on.
Waiter called, and handed him
a slip of paper, take this to the plan
list, please
THE waiter obeyed. l watched the
man at the instrument as lie turned
quickly and received the message
from the negro. He gazed at the
words l had written and started
slightly. Then he raised his head
looked in my direction and smiled.
could see his lips move. 1t seemed
that they said certainly On the pa
per had written Please play "QuanG
L'Amor est Mort
"He hesitated moment as he turn
ed to the piano again, and it seemed
that there swept over him a feeling Of
revulsion. Then, almost by force
the hands were placed on tie keys
and the music began. For a momen
it seemed ragged and untimely Then
as the swing broke it's way into hi:
heart, everything changed Pealing
almost laundering forth at times
plaintive, appealing, the notes trick
ling out like tiny brooks at other mo
ments, he brought from that tin
panny piano a harmony that was al
most divine. The loud chatter anl
brazen laughter of the cafe ceased
Men and women turned in their chair.
to listen and to watch the better
Half drunken men leered silently; 9th
ers who had gone farther into tn,
cups that sometimes cheer and some
times breed melancholy, began Il
weep on each others shoulders and t,
apologize for all past misdeeds, rea
off hor
the music. Stronger, then weaker
rising and falling, the piece was play
ed 1t seemed that the pianist ha,
lost every bit of knowledge of tn,
world around him. He was nov
buried within himself in a spher,
"a y; 60