Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1914-02-03
TillotS0n'S
:Bi6Mystery
How He Became q
Convert
By cLARIssA MAcKIE

: By cLARIssA MAcKIE 8
ssssssssssssssssssssssssss
Mr.. David Tillotson elevated bis
neatly shod feet to the top Of his desk
and, leaning his head against the leath-
er cushioned back Of his chair. per-
mitteu a emile to triekle around his
straight cut, matter Of fact mouth.
Mystery he shifted scornfully.
ave often wondered why the dicton-
airy makers give that much abused
word any space in their dreary VOL
umes. There is no such thing as q
mystery, my dear flaming. There Is
a perfectly good and entirely simple
explanation for every so called mys'
terry"
| Egbert Tanning smiled in superior
manner, and. tossing the end of bis
cigar into the waste paper basket, he
calmly proceeded to Light another.
81 must go now" he said, rising and
reaching for his hat, "but let me- tell
you, old man, that you may run across
| q mystery within the next twenty-four
hours that even your cleverness can
not solve. This Is not threat, but a
plain, matter of fact prediction OF
what is likely to happen to scof1er
Of unknown forces"
"Fiddlededee-ikewise tommyrotF'
| calculated David as the door closed
behind his smiling friend
Diminishing the discussion Of the last
half hour thus lightly, Mr.. Tillotson
plunged into his afternoon mail with
q mind untrammeled by thoughts OF
perplexing questions. His pleasant
voice dictated letter after letter. while
his quiet little stenographef took down
his words with flying pencil and the
rustic Of turning leaves as her note
book filed up.
"That is all. Miss Dickson" said Da-
vid at last, and he swung his chair
to the window as the girl passed into
, the small inner Office that was her
own especial sanctum. The inner Of.
Hce possessed one window, opening on
the courtyard ten stories below, and
only one door, the one leading Into
David Tillotson's private office.
David swung idly in his chair for
awhile, debating whether he would go
for a spin In his fast motorcar or
spend the remainder Of the afternoon
at his club.
While he pondered this important
question he was soothed almost to SOM
Violence by the mufRed clicking OF MISS
Dickson's typewriter behind the closed
! door Of her office. Some men would
have objected to the noise Of the ma
chine, but not David Tillotson. He
boosted that he had not q nerve In his
big, strong body.
At last he realized that the clicking
had ceased. and, having decided tt
take a ride, he telephoned for his cal
to be brought around and then pressed
the button for Miss Dickson.
She did not respond to the summons
! Again he pressed the button, and
meeting no response from the usually
prompt and businesslike young WON
an, David went to the door Of her Of
fee and looked in.
The room was empty.
The neatly typed letters were on hel
desk awaiting his signature. Her hat
was on It's accustomed hook. and one
Of her dainty handkerchiefs was on
the floor.
But there was no sign of Elsie Dick
son.
David was disturbed. He had not
heard Miss Dickson pass through his
Office. rs she necessarily must in order
to reach the outer door. He was I'M
usually keen Of hearing. and even her
light football would have attracted his
attention. for 1t was a fact that quite
unknown to himself David Tillotson
was deeply interested in the quiet
dove eyed girl who had 80 long and
faithfully served him.
He did not realize that many Of bis
cleverest transactions had been inspil-
ed by Elsie Dickson. He would have
scoffed II any one. Tanning, for in.
stance. had limited that he was In love
with his stenographer. but 1t was quite
true that her presence always exerted
soothing influence upon her employ.
er. He felt entirely contented II he
knew that she was In the next room,
and the delicate fragrance that chung
to her little handkerchief was sweet
incense to his critical nostrils.
As David, unsuspecting bachelor
that he was, did not have an inkling
Of the state Of his hayward heart, he
could not In the least account for the
violent humping Of that organ when
he discovered that the window was
wide open and that Elsie Dickson had
disappeared.
In two strides he was at the window
I'D peering fearfully down into the
courtyard. It was quite empty save
for the janitor's boy. who was sweep
Ing the cement pavement.
He drew back and once more search
ed the room. but there was no sign Of
his missing secretary. With assumed
nonchalance he went into the outer Of
dce and spoke to one Of the clerks.
"Is Miss Dickson here2" he asked
irritably.
The man glanced at him in surprise
"Why, no, Sir. She Ia In her Office,
/ believe. I talked with her over the
phone a moment ago."
David returned to his own room
more disturbed than he cared to ac-
knowledge. He glanced inside Miss
Dickson's Office. but she was not there
Sitting down at his desk. he hesitated
with the telephone receiver in his
hand.
Practical person that he was. he
could not imagine what had become
Of the girl. All he knew was that q
half hour ago she was in her Office.
David found that he could no longer
think clearly. connectedly. Mingled
with his uneasiness Of what had hap
pened to Elsie Dickson were a vague
terror and an unaccountable depres.
sion Of spirits.
Suddenly his fingers closed tightly
around the telephone, and he lifted
the receiver to his ear he called Egg.
haek nur,hne o~d to- a~o