Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1920-02-16
THE lfIDDLETElNPL E. MI1RDE Err
A Detective Story by j. s. Fletcher

locked away; j am sure that anybody
who had one took the greatest care
OF 1t. Now. I said last night, over
there at the Dragon, that ] could re-
peat the names Of all the families who
held these tickets. SO / can. But
here the old gentleman drew out a
drawer and produced from it parch :
ment- bound book which he handled
with great reverence-"hcre is little
volume of my own handwriting =
01anda relating to Market Milcastcr
races--in which is list of the original
holders. together with another list
showing who held the tickets when the
races were given up. | make bold to
say, Mr.. Spargo. that by going through
the second list. could trace every
ticket--except the one you have in your
purse.
Every one?' said Spargo, in some
surprise.
Every one. For as I told you"
continued Mr.. Quarterpage, the fami-
lies are either in the town (we're a con-
servative people here in Market Mil
caster and we don't move far afield)
or they're Just outside the town, or
they're not far away. ! cant conceive
how the ticket you have-and it's
genuine enough--could ever get out of
possession of one of these families,
and-----'
Perhaps suggested Spargo, 'it
never has been out of possession. l
told you it was found in the lining of
box--that box belonged to a dead man. "
"a dead man ~ exclaimed Mr..
Quarterpage. "a dead man. Who
could--ah Perhaps-perhaps I lave
an idea. Yes--an idea. remember
something now that had never thought
Of"
The old gentleman unfastcned the
clasp of his parchment bound book. and
turned over its pages until he came to
one whereon was a list of names. lie
pointed this out to Spargo.
There is the list of holders OF the
silver tickets at the time the race meet.
ings came to an end he said "1f
you were acquainted with this town you
would know that those are the names
of our best known inhabitants--all, OF
course, burgcsses. There's mine, you
see-Quarterpage. There's Lummis,
there's Kaye. there's Skenc. there's
Templeby-- the gentlemen you saw last
night. All good old town names. They
all arc--on this list. I know every
family mentioned, The holders of that
time are many of them dead but their
successors have the tickets. Ics-and
man who held ticket when this list
was made about whom don't know
anything---at least, anything recent.
The ticket. Mr.. Spargo, which you ve
found must have been his. But |
thought thought somebody else had
it !"
And this man, sir? Who was hc?"
asked Spargo. intuitively conscious that
he was coming to news. ''Is his name
thcrc?'
The old man ran the tip of his finger
down the list Of names:
There it is :" he said. John Matt
land
Spargo bent over the fine writing,
eyes, John Maitland. he observed.
"And who was john MaitlandT'
Mr.. Quarterpage shook his head. He
turned TO another of the many drawers
in an ancient bureau, and began TO
search amongst mass of old news.
papers. carefully sorted into small
bundles and tied up.
IF you. had lived in Market Mil
raster one and twenty years ago. Mr..
S0argo." he said, "you would have
known who John Maitland was. For
some time. sir. he was the best known
man in the placc---ayc. and in this
corner of the world. But-ayc, here
1t ls--the newspaper OF October 9th.
1891. Now, Mr.. Spargo, you'll find
in this old newspaper who John Matt
land was. and all about him. Now, I'll
tell you what to do. I've just got to 20
into my Office for an hour to talk the
days business over with my son--you
take this newspaper out into the gar
deu there with one OF these cigars, aud
read whatll YOU find in it, and when
you've read that we'll have some more
talk"
Spargo carried the old newspaper in
to the sunlit garden.
CONTINUED TOMORROW