The Wolf Point herald. (Wolf Point, Mont.) 1913-1940, 1920-03-11
Chr
Narntnnna
Myatrry
By
r. C.
CHAPTER WI.
Copyright
(From Last Week.
The Solution.

DANtioiOIr anu was onOMn inbO tAN
little private sitting-roOm where the
proprietress held her court on the
rare occasions when she entertained,
he found Cakes already there. Cakes
was surprised.
"What-are you invited, too? Say |
guess this is her idea of winding up
the case formally. A sort of old-home-
week celebration for all concerned"
Cakes laughed.
"Well, all l can say is that I hope
there won't be another case of poi
soning at the Excelsior in the papers
tomorrow. A woman like our hostess
is certain to provide some special
homemade wine for an occasion. We
ought to lave had the doctor wait out
side with antidotes."
Mr.. Snyder did not reply.
1t struck Cakes that his employer
was preoccupied and nervous. He
would have inquired into this unusual
frame of mind, but at that moment
the third guest of the evening entered.
Mr.. Snyder looked c~uriously at the
newcomer. The big German had a
morbid interest for him. Many years
in the exercise of a profession which
tends TO rob its votarieS Of sentiment
had toughened Mr.. Snyder, but there
was something unusual about the
present circumstances which struck
home to his Imagination.
He was not used to this furtive
work. Till now he had met his man
IN the open as an enemy, and it struck
him as an unpleasantly gruesome
touch that he must presently sit at
meat with one whom 1t might be his
task TO send to the electric chair.
He wished Mrs. Pickett could have
arranged things otherwise; but she
was his employer, and when on duty
in the service of an employer Mr..
Snyder was wont to sink his personal
feelings.
Captain Muller, the German, was an
interesting study to one in the de-
tective's peculiar position.
1t was not Mr.. Snyder's habit to
trust overmuch to appearances, but
he could not help admitting that there
was something about this mans as
pect which brought Mrs. Pickett's
charges out Of the realm of the fan
tastic into that of the possible.
Here, to a student Of men like Mr..
Snyder, was obviously a man with
something on his mind. That that
something need not necessarily be
murder, or any crime whatsoever, the
detective admitted.
But under the circumstances the
fact that Captain Muller was in a
highly nervous condition was worthy
of notice if nothing more.
There was something odd-an I'M J.
natural gloom-about the man. He
bore himself like one carrying a heavy
burden. His eyes were dull, his face
haggard. !
The next moment the detective was !,
reproaching himself with allowing his if
imagination to run away with his n
calmer judgment. 1t mortified him to
think that he was permitting himself
to be carried away by a train of a,
thought precisely as Cakes would n
have been. =
Nevertheless, whether it was a real r,
oddness or whether Mrs. Pickett's il
words had overstimulated his fancy,
certainly did seem something al
odd about the German. 81
Mr.. Snyder disposed himself to in
events. tr
At this moment Cakes gave evil 81
1ence that he, too, had been struck by in
he expression of the others face.
You're not looking well, captain" o,
lie said. r.
The German raised his heavy eyes.
Il do not sleep goot." oil,
The door opened and Mrs. Pickett III
anne in. +b
TO Mr.. Snyder one of the most re- NJ
larkable points about the meal, which
or the rest of his life had a place of N
is own in his memory, was the pc m,
uliar metamorphosis of Mrs. Pickett do
rom the brooding, silent woman he hi,
known to the polished hostess.
Cakes. who had dealt with her in 70,
er official capacity Of owner and man m,
ger of the boarding house. was m,
struck by the change Mr..
found himself specializing as RI,
0 the early history of this curious old ne
Vorhan who was so very much at ease bu
t the head of her own table.
Cakes, that buoyant soul, was I'M III.
BILE to keep his surprise to himself. we
lie had come prepared to steel his til
against homemade wine, alb ro
orbed in grim silence, and he found oh
imself opposite a bottle of cham q,
agne of a brand and year which com
his utmost respect, and a
leasant old lady whose only aim Sc
to be to make him feel at fri
ONE. yo
Beside each of the guests plates tai
as a neat paper parcel. He picked be
is up. ma
"Why, ma'am. this is princely
~ouvenirs! / call this very handsome sta
{ you, Mrs. Pickett" ga
"Yes, that is a souvenir. Mr.. Bur
IN. [ am arc plet%ad."