Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1919-06-15
BY ARTHUR STRINGER

XAcOS from Tie MdulSOu AVENUE NOI-
ner. II he hears or sees anything sus-
picious he'll be ready to break in with
a couple of fatties. But that, Of
course, Is what We want to avoid. So
have your look through and get away
IL you can, without any noise"
"And II / don't come out?' mildly
inquired. For I knew it was no ordi-
asking me to invade.
1T you're not out by midnight, I'll
be inside there myself" he said,
squaring that heavy mouth of his in
a way that made him look like mu-
scum bust Of one of the Caesars. And
nervous as l was beneath all my pose
of indifference. found something
reassuring in remembering I had this
man of power behind me, and that he,
in turn, had the even more ponder
Gus machinery of the law behind
him.
Twenty minutes later l emerged
from the Grand Central subway sta
ton. walked north few blocks
along Madison. and then turned west.
My heart was beating little
faster in spite Of myself, as l went
up the wide brow nstone steps of the
Holshaw house. But it relieved me to
see that the street in that neighbor-
hood was almost empty. found
something terrifying, too. in the
decorous appearance Of that part of
the city. in the nearness of 5th ave-
nue. with its evening up-surge of
multitudinous life. in the highly re-
there freckled the canyon walls Of
closely serried homes. But from the
front of the older brownstone house
before which l stood not light or
sign Of life showed itself.
1 fitted the key to the Yale lock.
took deep breath, and silently
swung back the door just as silent
ly stepped inside. Then l swung the
door shut again, without making a
sound and stood there, with my back
to it. / stood there inspecting what
lay before me and waiting for my
pulse to settle down to normal again.
1t took some time. But l found no
one there to challenge my entrance,
so l advanced slowly into that un-
known house of unknown possibili-
ties. thinking. for some undecipher-
able reason. of Eleakini Grossett as
I did so.
The first thing that stru<k me was
the baroness of the place. 1t seemed
almost empty of furniture. The Sec
ond thing that impre ssed me was the
heaviness of the air. 1t smelt like a
cellar 1t carried faint Of must and
confinement and was by no means
the atmosphere any decent doctor
would want about his patient:
couldn't help feeling that IL the
trained nurse whose coat was wear
ing had been worth her salt she
would have made pilgrimage
through that abode of mustiness,
opening windows and letting in q
little sunshine. But l Wasn't
health Office, reminded myself as
moved forward into the shadows, and
1 had come there to investigate more
substantial things than house odors.
Ny Investigations. however, weren't
destined to be made quite as easily as
had hoped.
l had reached the foot Of the stair
way, and even had one hand on p
newell post, when l distinctly heard
the sound of footsteps on the uncar-
peted floor above me.
/ promptly shrank back and sided
about the newell post at that, edging
cautiously backward along the shad-
Ows of the inner hall. For those steps,
l could hear! were turning about the
stairhead and were descending to the
same floor on which l stood. So
continued my retreat, step by stealthy
step. until a half-opened door on my
left showed me second stairway,
leading to what must have been .
basement. Rather than run the risk
Of being confronted by that unknown
newcomer I slipped through this
partly opened door. closed 1t behind
me, and ran lightly down the car
peted treads.
I hesitated, for one brief moment,
at the bottom Of the stairway. But a..
quick glance about showed me no
sign of life below stairs, so scurried
noiselessly along a darkened hall
way for some twenty steps. This
brought me to what was plainly .