The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1913-02-21

ger.
Presently she returned, followed by
a private detective and two police
men.
rs this the fellow?" asked the for
mer. scowling at me.
The girl explained, rather incoher-
emily, her mistake. Everybody sat
down. 1t was quite social gathering,
or would have been but for the scru-
tiny of the police, which l bore none
too WELL From all sides questions
came popping at me, and it was only
by the use OF the telephone connect
ing my bachelor quarters that | sue
ceeded in establishing my identity.
The frayed envelope was vastly inter
esting to the police. They read it for
ward and backward, upside down.
and even held it close to the fire to
see if any sympathetic ink had been
used in writing it.
Il guess Mr.. Carewes a well-mean-
in chap, MISS" volunteered the detec-
tive. But this matter will need close
attention. 1t looks like tough prop
osition." He began to ply her with
questions. but to no avail.
During the examination | vaguely
wondered what the other fellow was
doing with my coat.
The clock on the mantel struck half
after midnight.
There's only one thing to be DONE"
said the detective; land that's to turn
out the lights and wait for the blood
thirsty gent"
For three-Quarters Of an hour we
five sat in the semi-darkness, our ears
strained to catch the faintest foreign
sound. Once 1 sneezed suddenly, and
one of the policemen nearly fell out
of his chair. 1t may seem funny to
you who read. but it was mighty seri-
GUS to the girl and myself. The sus-
pense was nerve-racking. We scarce
ly dared breathe naturally The oc-
casiopal slumping of the coal in the
crate was pregnant with terrors. And
our faces, seen but dimly, were drawn
and tense with the silent watching
Every eye was directed toward the
baleful window, through which, at any
moment, We expected to see a man
crawl.
Ssh" The detective raised a warn
ing hand.
On the stiffness OF the night there
came a clicking sound, like that of a
key being inserted in a lock. Pres
emily we heard the hall door open and
close. We waited In agony, or at
least did. Possibly a minute passed,
and then We saw the figure of a man
loom in the doorway. We saw his arm
extend toward the electric-light but
ton, and instantly the room became
brilliant with light.
The young man blinked at us and
We blinked at him.
IF you move a STEP" said the de-
tective threateningly, I'll plug you
full O. lead"
What the d." began the new
conner, gazing from face to face
Stop" cried the girl, springing to
his side; 1T is my brother!"
i
with indescribable horror. He had on
my coat! And, more than this, he
was a man on whose honor l would
formerly have staked my Iife-Ar-
thur Kellerd, one of my classmates at
college. And this exquisite girl was
his sister, the girl l had always been
wanting to meet!
Your brother!" cried the detective,
taken aback.
Yes, her brother" said kellerd
amiably. Now. what's all this pother
about, anyhow" Here he CHANGED
to get a good square look at me.
Hang me, if it isn't Dicky Carewe!
and wearing my coat" He came
forward and grasped my limp hand
and pumped it. IF you only knew
how I've been cursing you!" he add
ed, laughing.
Then everybody began to talk at
once, and nobody would have learned
had not the detective reso-
lutely interfered He thrust the fray
ed envelope under Kellerd's nose.
do you know anything about this?"
he demanded.
Kellerd scrutinized it for a moment,
and then began to laugh; might say
that he roared.
I'm askin' you If you know any
thing about it?'' repeated the detect
i've coldly.
Il ought to know all about it, an
swered Kellerd finally; Il wrote it
not four days ago"
Arthur" cried the girl, her voice
full of shame, horror, anguish and re-
proach.
Come, come, Nancy; it's all curl
Gus mistake, a very curious mistake;
and you'll all readily understand why
l laughed, when l explain"
"a joke, eh?" said the detective.
Perhaps you can explain it, and per-
haps you can't, "-truculently.
Easily You have doubtless heard
of Norman Douglas" he began.
The police shook their heads, but
the girl and l looked interested
Douglas is the fellow who's writ
ing all those queer detective yarns
for the magazines" said l.
WELL" said Kellerd, I've been
trying to keep it dark, but here's
where l must confess. I'm Douglas,
and that slip of paper represents the
climax to chapter in a new story.
Come into the library, gentlemen"
We followed soberly, even foolishly.
Kellerd drew out from a drawer In
his desk bundle of manuscript, and
the paragraph he read aloud conceded
with the writing on the envelope.