Omaha daily bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 187?-1922, 1919-06-22
The Wonnan
in Black
ef.-.- BY
EDMUND CLERIHEW
BENTLEY
Copyright. 1918, by the
D. Century Company

CONTINUED From Page One. Section o.
listened, he glanced at the clock, and
spoke quickly to Mr.. Silver over
| the top Of the transmitter. go and
hunt up Figgis and young Williams.
Hurry" Mr.. Silver darted from the
room. .. 49, -. .-
The great journalist was q tall,
Strong, clever Irishman Of so, swart
and black-mustache4, man of I'M
firing business energy, we'll known
in the world, which he understood
very thoroughly, and played upon
with the half-cynical competence Of
his race. Yet was he without a
touch of the charlatan: he made no
mysteries, and no pretenses of
knowledge, and he saw instantly
through these in others. In his
handsome, well-bred, well-dressed
appearance there was something
little sinister when anger or intense
occupation put its imprint about his
eyes and brow; but when his gener.
Gus nature was under no restraint he
was the most cordial of men. He
was managing director of the COM
pany which owned that most power
full morning paper, the Record, and
also that most indispensable evening
paper, the Sun, which had its offices
on the other side of the street. He
was moreover editor-in-chief of the
| Record, ITO which he had in the
course Of years attached the most
variously capable personnel lin the
country. 1t was a maxim of his that
where you could not get gifts, you
must do the best you could with
solid merit; and he employed great
deal of both. He was respected by
his staff as few are respected in a
profession not favorable to the
growth of the sentiment of rever-
ence.
you're sure that's alp" asked Sir
James, after few minutes Of earn
est listening and questioning. "And
how long has this been known? =
= Yes, of course, the police are;
but the servants? Surely it's all
over the place down there by now.
Well, we'll have a try. +
Look here, Bunner, I'm in
finitely obliged to you about this. I
owe you a good turn. You know
I mean what I say. Come and see
me the first day you get to town.
II = All right, that's under
stood. Now I must act on your
news. Goodby."
Sir James hung up, the receiver,
and seized railway time table from
the rack before him. After a rapid
consultation of this oracle, he flung
it down with forciblc word as Mr..
Silver hurried into the room, fol-
lowed by a Manufactured man with
spectacles, and a youth with an
alert eye.
II want you to jot down some
facts, Figgis," said Sir James, ban
ishing all signs of agitation and
speaking with a rapid calmness.
when you have them, put them
into shape just as quick you can for
a special edition of the Sun" The
hard-featured man nodded and
glanced at the clock, which pointed
to a few minutes past 3; he pulled
out a notebook and drew chair
up to the big writing table. SILVER"
Sir James went on, go and tell
Jones to wire our local correspond
ent very urgently, to drop every
thing and get down to Marlstone at
once He is not to say why in the
telegram. There must not be an
unnecessary word about this news
until the Sun is on the streets with
it-you all understand. Williams,
cut across the way and tell Mr.. An
thony to hold himself ready for a
two column opening that will knock
the town endways. Just tell him that
he must take all measures and pre-
cautions for a scoop. Say that Figgis
will be over in five minutes with the
facts and that he had better let him
write up the story in his private
room As you go, ask Miss Morgan
to see me here at onte and tell the
telephone people to see if they can
get Mr.. Trent on the wire for me.
After seeing Mr.. Anthony, return
here and stand BY" The alert-eyed
young man vanished like spirit.
Sir James turned instantly to Mr..
Figgis, whose pencil was poised over
the paper. "Sigsbee Henderson has
been murdered" he began quickly
and clearly, pacing the floor with his
hands behind him. Mr. Figgis
scratched down a line of shorthand
with as much emotion as if he had
been told that the day was fine
the pose of his craft. "He and his
wife and two secretaries have been
for the past fortnight at the house
called White Gables, at Marlstone,
near Bishopsbridge. He bought it
four years ago. He and Mrs. Man.
derson have since spent part Of
each summer there. Last night he
went to bed about half past II, just
as usual. No one knows when he
got up and left the house. He was
not missed until this morning.
About 10 o'clock his body was found
by a gardener. 1t was lying by shed
in the grounds. He was shot in the
head, through the left eye. Death
must have been instantaneous. The
body was not robbed, but there
were marks on the wrists which