Mexico Missouri message., 1916-05-25

man could gather MS shaken WIS, no
was pinned with the most disabling
grip known in the science of combat,
strange hold with the assailant's
wrist clamped below and behind the
ear. Average Jones lifted his voice
| and the name that came to his lips
was the name that had lurked sub
consciously, in his heart, for days.
"Sylvia!" he cried. 1.-THE fourth
floor! Comet"
THE mirror said Average Jones,Is
Push it aside. Pull it down."
With an effort of nervous strength,
the girl lifted aside the big glass. Be-
hind it hundred scarlet-banded in
sects swarmed and scampered.
UNLESS my little detectives have de.
ceived me-" Jones said, you'll find
the body in there"
She CROPPED, and drew forth a large
box. In it was packed the body Of
Peter Paul. There was a cord about
the fat neck.
"Strangled," whispered the girl.
Poor old doggiep Then she whirled
upon the PROSTATE man. "You MUIR
dererl" she said very low.
Its not murder to put a dying
brute out of the way" said the shaken
man sullenly.
"But it's fraud, in this CASE" retort-
ed Average Jones. "a fraud of which
you're self-convicted. Get up"
There was no more fight in Judge
oily Ackroyd. He skunk to the stairs
and limped heavily down to his fright
ened and sobbing wife.
DO you mind my saying" said
Jones, that you are the bravest and
finest human being I've met in
a-a-somewhat varied career?"
The girl shuddered. 81 could have
stood it ALL" she said, but for those
awful, crawling, red creatures"
"Those?" said Average Jones. "Why,A,
they were my bloodhounds, my little
detectives"
"And what are they?"
'Carrion beetles" said Average
Jones. Where the vultures of the in
sect kingdom are gathered together,
there the quarry lies"
Sylvia Graham drew long breath.
I'm all right now" she pronounced.
There's nothing left, l suppose, but
to leave this house. And to thank
you. How am 1 ever to thank your"
She lifted her eyes to his.
"Never mind the thanks" said Av.
erage Jones unevenly. 1T was moth
ing"
1T was-everything! It was won.
derful!" cried the girl, and held out
her slender hands to him.
AS they clasped warmly upon his,
Average Jones' reason lost its balance.
Bending over the little, clinging hands,
he pressed his lips to them. Only for
a moment. The hands slipped from his.
There was a quick, frightened gasp,
and the girls face, all afush with a
new, sweet fearfulness and wondering
confusion, vanished behind a ponder
GUS swinging door.
The young mans knees shook a lit
tie as he walked forward and put his
lips close to the Intel.
Sylvia"
There was a faint rustic from with
in.
I'm sorry. I mean, I'm glad. Glad.
der than Of anything I've ever done in
, my life"
1
Z Listen, there mustn't be any misun-
i derstanding about this, dear. If you
send for me, it must be because you
want me; knowing that, when come,
l l shall come for you. Good-by, dear"
o "Good-by." 1t was the merest whis-
+ per from behind the door.
I Two days later he sat at his desk,
in murk of woe. No word nor sign
!. had come to him from Miss Sylvia Ora
ham. He frowned heavily as Simpson
n entered the inner sanctum with the
usual packet of clippings.
o "Leave Them" he ordered.
Eyes, SIR" The confidential clerk
fingered, looking uncomfortable. "Any.
v thing from yesterdays lot, sir?"
Haven't looked them over yet"
e Cor day before's?"
Haven't taken those up either"
''If l might suggest, there's a very
a interesting advertisement in yester-
days paper repeated this morn
Is 81 don't want to see it."
n mo, sir. But-but still-it it sse1ns
n to have a strange reference to the
burial of the million-dollar dog, and
~ an invitation that thought"
4. Where is it? Give it to mel" For
10 once in his life, high pressure of ex-
element had blotted out Average
10 Jones drawl. His employee thrust
"a into his hand this announcement from
the Banner of that morning:
a DIED-AT 100 WEST SIXTEENTH
a street, September H. Peter Paul a dog,
for many years the faithful and fond
I'D companion OF the late Amelia Van Hal
- tern. Burial in accordance with the wish
W and will Of Mrs. Van Haltern, at the fam
as lily estate, Schuylkill September IL, al
~ | three o'clock. His friend, Don Quixote
be Average Tones leaned to his feet
ne where's my hat? Where's the time
ut table? Get cab! Simpson, you idiot
'e- why didn't you make me read this be