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

solution was, asking no questions OF
this strange happening of the night,
seeking no explanation of the self-op'
Grating elevator; or might push the
button beside me and bring the ele.
vator up to make answer.
might run away from this enigma,
crowd it outside my thoughts for the
remaining hours before the Wilton
sailed, and get far away from danger,
free from the Vaccinations of secret
enemies and chance conspirators, or
wade in deeper, become more serious
ly.. involved, and perhaps be forc.bly
detained by the law. 1t was really
none Of my business, and Isabelle
Reade had shown me she did not de.
sire any help.
The temptation was strong to walk
back to my room and get into bed. /
could insist next morning that Isa-
belle start for her home at once, see
that she did start. Then l would get
away on the Wilton and forget the
whole affair in new interests and ex-
elements. The alternative of bring
ing that elevator up was job for the
strongest nerves.
And then i remembered the foolish
thought of romantic girl that put me
into cast-iron suit with plume in
my bonnet and rollicking steed be-
tween my legs, and IL compromised.
I walked downstairs, five flights. I
went carefully, cautiously, perring
around corners before venturing, and
/ realized how much of bravery may
be represented by revolver. For
eighteen years had relied on six lead
en- slugs in the cylinder of my forty
one; that missing, l was a coward.
The strength of my arms, natures
weapons, had no meaning, for l had
never depended on fists empty of
steel.
The last flight negotiated on tip
toe, and SO slowly that I scarcely
made progress. When l could see
around the cornering wall into the
lower hall, 1 stopped completely,
studying it's every detail! The night
light burned before the elevator, the
outer doors were closed, the large
plate blass windows stared at empty
sidewalks, dim in fog.
There were four large chairs, set
with almost geometrical exactness in
the corridor; one large writing-table
near the front; two rubber plants. I
studied the shadows. A door to the
private office was open, beyond it
darkness, and I feared that darkness.
1 bolstered my courage to sneak
along the walls to the outer Office door
and look within desk, table, waste
basket, chairs, and emptiness; then l
went to the elevator.
It's door was tightly closed, but the
electric globe above made a checker
board of light and shadow within, and
l did not need to open it. Someone
with me two nights before. 1t was
deepening of black shadows, vague
and formless, but there could be no
mistaking it for anything but what
it was. ran to the outer door, placed
two fingers against my teeth and let
out the night call for the help of the
law.
Patrolman Cobb came running, ham,
merng the stone wall with his night
stick as he ran, sending the signal for
help to his kind, and in a moment we
were before the elevator door, Cobb
threw it back and turned on the
switch, flooding the car with light.
In the corner of the elevator, his
head back against its steel side, was
4
against on Union street the night be-
fore, the shadow of Isabelle Reade;
and he was stone dead.