The Tomahawk., 1917-11-15

described the locality in the cafe
and theater district of the city. The
blind man had entered a cabaret res
taurant named the Oasis.
II owe you thanks, my friend" said
Marvel, simply yet systematically tc
me, and was off like shot, as though
I had given him some valuable and
timely information. I did not see him
again for two days. In the meantime
received intelligence that Mr.. Dale
had returned to the city. The newspa
pers noted it, and just after had read
the little item in the morning paper
a phone message from the millionaire
himself thanked me for my services In
his behalf, and requested me to call
upon him when I found it convenient
to do SO. I was planning to follow
the invitation that evening after the
bank closed, when a second phone
summons told me that Marvel was al
the other end Of the line.
"Come over to police headquarters, y
he directed. II want you to identify
somebody-chief's Office"
lSoSSu d o14SuI SIS1AI VI "OAf
der as 1 entered the private sanctum
Of the department of justice. Marvel
was there, as I had expected, and the
blind" man was present, too, to my
mild surprise. I wondered why and
how he had come to bob up Important
ly enough to be the subject of police
official recognition. It seemed that
what I was expected to do was to sub
stantiate my former statement to Mar
vel, that I had in one day seen the
blind" man cropping his way painfully
along the street apparently sightless,
and the evening Of the same day had
seen him exert the ability of a person
in full possession Of most excellent
powers of vision.
''See here" called out this subject
Of present interest In an irritable, com
planning tone, what is this all about
I am no mendicant, nor public nui'
sance. I am going about my own at
fairs in quiet, respectable way. My
identity is nobody's business"
Then why playing part?" demand
ed the chief, Of the department.
II deny being an impostor." declared
the man under suspicion. II tell you
am blind" and his fixed, flmy eyes
looked it.
1--WE shall soon know" observed
Marvel. "Ah, here is the oculist now. "
Evidently he had sent for the profess
sional looking gentleman who had now
arrived. The latter placed small
satchel on the table, glanced at the
several occupants of the room, and i'm
mediately fixed his glance upon our
''blind' man.
"This is the person." he said, in his
expert way selecting his subject at
once. The latter made no objection to
being examined. He turned up his
eyes as directed, he submitted to the
various tests of the oculist with instru-
ments and chemicals.
stone blind" finally announced the
oculist. and he put up his instruments
and closed his satchel.
Marvel glanced at me as If challeng-
ing my claim Of having seen the man
under normal sight conditions.
"Well?" spoke the quasi-prisoner
impatiently. Are you through with
me?'
. My friend signalled the chief to dis
miss the subject under surveillance.
He also made a gesture to dark little
man, and the latter followed the
"blind'' man from the Office.
UNLESS there are two of him." OBJ
served Marvel as we left headquarters,
"you identified the right man the other
night. I want you to do something for
mel wish to have an introduction to
Mr.. Dale at his home"
referred to my plan for calling that
evening, and this quite harmonized
with my friends request. It was just
after dusk, the garden was in shadow,
the house itself brilliantly Illuminated
as we were shown into the front draw.
ing room, being informed that Mr..
Dale and his niece, as the servant put
it, were out for a drive and would re-
turn soon.
The alert glance Of my companion
swept the room comprehensively until
his eye fell upon the portrait of the
new mistress of this elegant home.
Then he advanced towards it. A con-
noiseur in matters artistic, I read
his impression of q picture which had
appealed to me as the merest daub.
He drew close to the portrait, ran his
thumb nail over a corner of its painted
surface, and turning quickly said in a
guarded one:
watch that door-advise me If any
one comes"
I watched him pull the picture out
from the wall, an open penknife in his
hand. This he inserted against the
tacked-on canvas, lifted it free, and re-
turned to his chair.
"A portrait from Rome!" he said, a
faint, queer smile playing about the
corners Of his lips. "Wait."
With sharp suddenness he pro-
nounced this word, left his chair and
glided to the open bay window in the
rear drawing room. I had caught the
echo Of a peculiar call, one-half whis-
tie. one-half bird call. proceeding ap-