Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1921-11-20


Rotten service:" he mumbled. after
long wait. Parr nodded gravely-
"Parr," said Oliver abruptly. over
the top Of the telephone. have you
made any effort to find the husband?
He's the one that squealed. of course.
| suppose the poor devil got tired or
hiding out"
The effect of these words. or rather
was electric. He reached out with
one gorilla-like hand and snatched
the telephone from divers grasp.
was she on there?" he demanded.
Certainly" said Oliver easily.
He pointed to the electric needle.
That telltale needle gave warning
every time a receiver was lifted off
its hook in No. 142. To the two
| watchers at that moment that trem-
ulous needle personified the woman
herself, the eavesdropper, probably at
that instant cooking her pretty head
with the swift movement of startled
doe.
$50 you tip her off-under my nose,
Ell? Eh?" snarled Parr.
Oliver continued to watch the spy
ing needle on his desk. Abruptly, as
Topped back to zero. nothing. on the
calibrated scale. 1t was as signifi-
cant as the snap of a dry twig. The
lurker was withdrawing. on tiptoe.
Parr damned his hat down and
rushed from the room.
While the Lakewood train was
picking its way across the draw
bridges that span the estuaries of
Newark Bay the Dresden china widow
was rolling over hill and dale to
Byam, a little lake among the hills
where her stylish hackneys were ac-
TT
in drowsy ease. On the spur of the
moment this morning she had thought
of her beloved horses with a tinge of
self-accusation. 1t was honest John
Hanrahan, the red-headed mechanic
as usual. who conducted her. Some
now and again as her car topped a
rise. came on the man in the brown
derby, only for this occasion he had
discarded his derby for a cap, thrown
away his cold cigar and acquired a
mustache.
T IFE had become a bed of thorns
for the red-headed mechanic.
Perched out there in the open where
the widow could watch him breathe
wasn't his idea of being g. detective.
But ahead of him this morning was
taste of paradise. Arriving at the
farm, he was waiting in the kitchen
when there entered a pert little
French maid. round pink person Of
chippendale pattern, on high heels
which gave to her walk the tilt of a
Gallo poodle. She tripped daintily
over to him, sat down on the edge of
his bench. and indicated with a pro-
polling shove that he was to move
over a little-not too much. She
R11I aS L.
lace apron. regarded him under her
lashes. Then they both fixed their eyes
on the woodbox and smiled happily.
An hour later, when his lady up
stairs called for her motor. the red
headed mechanic Getty bred) had
tons Of the country.
AS the motor rounded the drive and
passed the gate cityward the maid
tossed a kiss to the moon-struck
In west Broadway tho elevated
trains growl all day and ali night
peering in at the upper floors as they
pass, where life is frankly incur
tanned.
A man in seamy uniform and
brass-bound cap with a number that
proclaimed him an elevated motor
man examined doorway after door,
way, always with glance at the
upper windows, as he picked his way
along the Sidewalk. Finally ascend
ing three rickety steps he rang a
grimy bell. in response to which there
appeared a capacious S.cilian woman
with a baby squatting on her hip
She could understand nothing he said.
With twitch of a shoulder she con-
ferred upon him the freedom of the
house.
On the first landing. he picked out
a door toward the front of the house
and raped sharply. He listened.
Then he raped again and again,
louder and louder. Doors above him
opened and shut. but the door he at
tackled stared at him blankly.
At the corner he sighted policeman.
What's that?" said the policeman,
bending his head to listen. Together
they crossed the street.
There" said the motorman. II
think that man is dead. He's been
hours"
He went on to explain that he had
passed and repassed that face in the
window on his day shifts at the con-
troller of his train-unti1 finally it
got on his his nerves, so he had come on
man pushed his way through the
halted traffic and stamped up the
stairs. He put his shoulder to the
door and it fell with a weak, splinter
Ing no HAL was ucdu-
quite. The officer threw up q smeared
window and blew on his whistle.
Shortly other policemen appeared.
running. A little while later a black
wagon backed up to the door and car
ried away tho man in the chair GOV.
cred with a herse-blanket. Another
wagon bore OF the fat sicilian woman
and her baby, and several other terri-
fed den:zens Of the house. They said
he had been q lodger for some
months, q poor man-oh. yes. very
Door. 1t was his habit to sit in that
window by the hour. by the day
sometimes. Had he any friends come
to see him? Who could say? The
whole world might pass up and down
that dingy staircase without ques-
ton.
In the little building on the river
front at the foot of East 26th street.
where black wagons drive up at all
hours Of the day and night and de-
post burdens covered with horse
ianEuidly Interested. Dead souls
come heres they must be inspected.
suspected, like any object offered in
0fheYR cnne hArA. anxious