Putnam patriot., 1914-08-14

you. sir, before 'e ad the stroke: and e says to i'm. saws .. Remember l sawst you of Don't come to me for nothin' after this. Don't ever you dark en my doorstep agin 'e says And Mr. Bayarl. sir. r 'ip~ and laughs tiendish in is fathers own flee You've got another gneSS comin. 'e mockS i'm open: .you're in this business IS deep as we he says. and if you cross me I'll donhle cross you and through the newspapers too And with that. out e went in q rige"
 "So that was the way of it?" r. Syb- srte commented duly.
 So Mrs. tnche had sought the father to revenge herself upon the son. and with this outcome Bayard unharmed. his father dead
 With neither hesitation nor q single backward glance 1t the body of his ancient enemy the little man swung about, walked quietly 10 the front door and as quietly let himself out.
 He was of no mind to he called as witness at q possible inquest. and busi- ness of far greater import urged him time pressing the real business of his life. this-to discover the where abouts of Marian BlesSington with the least avoidable delay.
 His first east having failed him. he must now try to draw the son and if possible before the latter learned of his fathers death
 uptiI tn rozaptar tho did he remember he had neglected to secure Bayard's address from the but Ter. But he wouldn't turn back. It could be ascertaned. Peter Kenny would either know it or know where to get 1t.
 To Peters rooms he must of neces- sity return first of ali for it would not much longer prove possible to go up and down and 10 and fro upon Man hattan Island in black silk evening coat and flaming scarlet small clothes. To change was imperative
 "The Monastery" he directed, set ting back into his seat. It was now rlear daylight.
 Wait" he told the driver on alight- ing at the Monastery. I'm keeping you' Money passed between them. more than enough to render his wishes inviolable.
 A dull eyed hallboy recognized and let him in. sullenly passing him on to the elevator. but as that last was on the point of taking flight to Peter Ken ny's door it hesitated and the opera tor with his hand on the half closed gate shot 1t open again instead of shut.
 A telegraph boy not over forty years tired was being admitted at the street door The eolloquy there was distinct ly audible:
 Mir. Bayard Shaynon live here?"
 Eleventh floor. Hurry up-don't keep the elevator waitin'"
 Peter Kenny's rooms were on the twelfth.
 The telegram. with its sprawling in- dorsement in ink. "Mr. Bayard shay non, Monastery Apartments was for several minutes within two feet of r. Sybarite's nose.
 Impossible to conjecture what inti mate connection 1t might have with the disappearance of Marian Blessing ton, what flood of light 1t might not loose upon the dark intrigue.
 What door?" demanded the messen- ger as he left the cage at the eleventh floor.
 Right across the hail." he was in- formed
 u,bo .ra+o olopoaa tho aoCo ,,,oun+ad to the next floor, and F. Sybarite got out requiring no direction. for Peter Kenny's door was immediately above Bayard Shaynon's.
 As be touched the bell button for the benefit of the elevator man- but for his ble of the door bell below could be heard faintly through mufling frebrick walls. The grumble persisted long aft CT the elevator had dropped back to the eleventh floor.
 And presently the voice of Western Union was lifted in sour expostuation:
 "Sa-ay. whatcha s'pose's tn matta wid dis guy? I been ringin' haffan- ourp'
 That's funny" commented the ele- vator boy. He come in only about ten minutes ago"
 "Waitin' here all day won't get me nothin'. Here. what's tn matta wid you signin forty
 "Gwan. Sign it yourself nd stick unda the door. whydoncha ?"
 Alright. Guess l will"
 Clang of the gate; whine of the de scending car; silence.
 Softly F. sybarite dptoed down the stairs
 Disappointment. however, lay in am bush for him at his nefarious goal. Ev- tdentIy the messenger had been pune dlious about his duty. Not even so much as the tip of corner of yellow envelope peeped from under the door.
 Reckless in exasperation, P. Sybarite first wasted time edueing a series of short, sharp barks from the beIl--a pc culiarly irritating noise, calculated tone would think 10 rouse the dead-then tried the door and found It fast: in the end knelt and bent an ear to the key hole. listening.
 Not sound: silence of the grave; the house deathly still He could hear his own heart drumming. but from Shay mons fat nothing
 Or. no. Was that the creak of a board beneath a stealthy footstep:
 If so. it wasn't repeated