The Sentinel=record., 1916-11-26

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 You mean more than you sayr' declared Clayton, pausing at the yer anda steps
 Do 9" suavely returned Parrish. Well, it's better than saying more than l mean. Good by. | guess I won't go in. after all"
 He nodded and started down the walk toward the street. But Clay ton rang the bell and was admitted. Parrish abruptly checked his own progress. Turning he sped around the side of the house once more, passed an obscure side door. among the vines, took a key from his pocket, unlocked the door and cautiously en- tered the house.
 Clayton, meantime. was ushered into the library by Felix Dr. Mon- trose, looking up, rose and advanced cordially to welcome his guest.
 Felix departed in search of Flor ence, who presently came laughing into the room, carrying in one hand her camera and in the other arm two struggling kittens
 Hello, Bob!" she hailed the art isl. What brings you here so early in the day? thought you were always at your studio till f."
 "In playing truant," replied Clay ton. Besides, I'm not here as a guest, but as an errand boy"
 He repeated his mothers invita- tion for the country club dinner Florence gladly accepted, and he promised to call for her in his car at 7:30. to take her to the club.
 While they chatted. Dr. Montrose, unnoticed by either of them, quietly left the room and mounted the stairs toward his laboratory.
 The telephone rang, in the hall, just outside the library door. Florence went out to answer the call. leaving Clayton to wonder what had become of his eccentric host
 At the far end of the wire Mrs. Clayton's voice was asking Florence If Bob had remembered 10 deliver her invitation and if the girl would be able to accept it.
 "Of course m come, Mrs. Clayton" Bob heard Florence reply. He is go- ing to take me in his car, after he has brought you to the club I--"
 Clayton strolled out into the hall on learning that it was his mother to whom Florence was talking.
 AS he stepped through the doorway from the library he saw Florence at the telephone; her back to the stair way And near the upper landing of the stairs, listening to her, stood Pierre La Rue.
 La Rue's eyes met Clayton's Then Pierre whirled about and dashed up- ward, out of sight.
 Shaking off bis momentary astonish- ment Clayton bounded up the stair way in hot pursuit
 Bob could hear La Rue run along the upper hallway. But as he him self reached the summit of the stairs he saw the hallway was empty. At It's fart~"r end, however, near the locked door of the laboratory, @ win dow stood wide open.
 Toward this window ran Bob Clay ton: Florence at his heels. They both looked out. No one was in sight. But a broken bit of wisteria showed the passage of the fugitive along the veranda roof.
 "Look' cried Florence, as Clayton leaned far out in search of the es- caped La Rue. Look! Down here!"
 She pointed at the window sill. There clearly outlined against the white paint of the sill, they both saw set of not-over-clean fin- ger prints.
 "Goodl" exclaimed Clayton, in tri- umph. Don't touch them. please. They form the first tangible clue we've had"
 Florence left him and sped down the hall. Almost at once she re- turned, carrying her camera.
 The microscopic lens is still at- tached,' she explained focusing the instrument. Now for a picture of the finger prints. Harold ought to be glad to reproduce it in the Ex- aminer. As you say, it's a splendid clew"
 As she talked she leveled the cam- era and pressed its bulb.
 Fifteen minutes later the plates were developed and printed. Clayton pocketed one of the prints as soon as it was dry
 Sect commented Florence. point ing to a second print she had made. That thumb ought to be easy to identify. It has tiny scar, part-way across the apex. I don't suppose it would show for much in the hand itself. But the microscope makes it look like a gash''
 They descended into the front hall.
 Do you mind if I light a cigaret before l start out2" asked Bob draw ing forth polished silver cigaret case. There's such a gale of wind blowing outside I'm afraid I'm not enough of an Trishman to make match burn there"
 lie was gropng for a match as he spoke. Then his eyes fell on Felix. The servant had quietly appeared from somewhere in the rear of the house and was holding out Clayton's hat and gloves, which he had obse- ouiousy picked up from the hall table.
 An idea flashed into Bob's mind. Thrusting back the match into his pocket, he produced a silk handker- chief, and vigorously rubbed the al- ready shining surface of the cigaret case.
 "These silver cases get tarnished so easily" he explained. as he rubbed.
 As he spoke the case slipped from his fumbling fingers to the rug at his feet. Felix at once picked up the case and handed it to him.
 "Thanks." said Bob, carelessly.
 He took the case from the servants outstretched hand in such way that