Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1918-01-17

he could hardly be expected to regard
it leniently.
knocked at the door, listened, then
hammered again more violently. AS
there was no sound from within, be.
gan work with my keys, soon finding
one that threw the bolt. l reached
for the light-switch as l opened the
door, flooding the room for our en-.
trance.
Behind me, Holme drew long
breath that whistled, and reached for
his gun. "Quick! the door!" cried,
dashing across the room to where the
rearroom entrance stood closed. 1t
was locked.
Hes here!" whispered Holme.
"We're in for 1t, Gill"
hammered with my fist on the
locked door. Don't be a fool!" I
snapped at the reporter. Into the
hall and guard the rear door. Break
in If you can"
Break in?"
Eyes, Get in We've got him
dead or alive, We've got hint"
1 was working with my keys, but
there was one already in the lock on
| its other side. / ran around 20 where
| Holme was tentatively try .ng to open
locked door by turning the knob.
"Take the other" ! ordered. I'll
work here" ana began again with the
keys.
There was 10 impcdiment in the
lock here and l soon heard it give to
| off Az I ,,t,,.I,nI ha Innr
l cursed my i,nbecility in foreswear-
ing a revolver. There would either
| be shot and Il rush from within, or
/ must cross the room in the dark, not
knowing what was there, to turn on
| its lights.
] pressed against the outer wall be-
side the entrance for seemingly in
| terminable time after the door was
wide. Nothing happened, there was
no slightest sound. knew where the
controlling button would be, for the
| apartment was similar to my own, SO
| made the dash. AS my hand found it,
| I placed my back against the wall,
facing the bed, and pushed the switch.
The light flared up.
There was nothing in the bed, but
in a chair beside the window, sitting
upright, only his head fallen against
his breast, was the corpse Of man.
/ opened the door to Holme. "Freel
did not leave town." / said.
On the wall telephone caught Mar
Gus, still at headquarters. ut is Gill
more" said, speaking fast. There
Is another corpse at the st. Dunstan.
Hurry up"
Another" gasped the surprised
detective.
1.-The third. Sitting straight in his
chair"
I'm on my way" cried Marcus,
hanging up with bang.
/ closed the doors of the bedroom
and led Holme back to my apartment.
"Haye drink" l suggested, for he
seemed to need one. Il must do
hurry-up search of my rooms!"
"What's your worry?" he asked,
helping himself to the Scotch, while l
began opening drawers and shoveling
through the contents of my trunks.
Pm looking for the discriminating
evidence" l replied, never pausing in
my work. Il want to find it before
Marcus does"
"You think the light switched out
in your bedroom"
II think whoever came in had a rea-
son." l snapped at him. 80 far I've
beaten Marcus to it. / want to con-
tinue to do so."
But / found nothing. If there had
been any evidence left by the intru-
der 1t was too carefully concealed for
my hurried search. was back in my
Morris chair when we heard the SER
geant come up in the elevator.
We met him in the hall and took
him directly to Freels room.
How'd you come to find him?" was
his first question, as he stood in the
door and stared at the corpse.
explained, and he grunted. knew
| was getting on his nerves with my
ubiquitous murder-finding. I doubted
II even eighteen years acquaintance
would stand the strain.
| He stepped across to the corpse and
| placed hand on its shoulder. 1t was
rigid with the stiffness of rigor NOR
tis. Kneeling before it, he flashed his
night light into the face, looking up
into it, and followed his lead. The
pallid face was of a young man, sim
gularly handsome. 1t was not Ameri-
can, not English certainly, possibly
| German, more likely Austrian OF Rus
sian. In flash it came to me with
| convincing gertrude that this was he
| who would have married Isabelle
| Reade's murdered friend at the Greek
| church.
But to Marcus there was no clue
there He looked for the death wound.
found easily from its trail of blood, Il
bullet-hole in the chest. Opening the
vest and shirts, he prodded with a
pencil for probe, then turned to me.
'The third time," he grunted. indl.
eating the slanting angle OF the pro-