Evening star., 1921-03-06

man. removes hinl-kil1s him. Anu
now we. in the name of justice. pur-
pose to annihilate Pettibone. man
with n brain d thousand years ahead
of his time
Admission went through a daily
ritual before his typewriter. He in
serted d recording sheet, lightly
brushed his finger tips, and gaZed
sbstractedly at the keys, He had great
faith in this oracle: time and again.
/ with almost clairvoyant powers. 1t
had solved problems for him. 1t was
probable that the cerebral gan lion
in Artni st on's finger tips led him. on
those occasions, through the maze
of the keyboard. But now the oracle
, was mute.
., Petty slipped up. for once in his
ife," unused Admission for the nun
dredth time as he stared at the blank
! wall with Opaque eyes, his fingers
poised above the keys.
Then suddenly. and without admon-
itory signal, the oracle spoke. Ar
mistons fingers, moving mechanical-
~. tapped the keys.
,, Did Sauer?" demanded the type
writer.
Admission felt queer pricking at
the back of his neck. There was
something uncanny in the way those
two words spontaneously torIneo
themselves before his eyes. He let
ms thoughts GTtll. Dlu Sduci LIN
Sauer slip up any place?
That was as far as he could get.
The typewriter re!apsed into Del
phian silence. his fingers refused to
move.
! "Obviously," said Admission. that
implies motive. on the part of Sauer.
The oracle refused to be drawn
! into an argument.
! Admission took stroll through the
park. conjuring himself to think. But
tthat typewriter had become 30 neces-
| sary to his process of thought in his
! years of scribblng that without it
| he found himself stranded.
! "Parr.' he said to that person of
! tho police an hour later. who was
3, Sauer? Did he ever really exist?"
Apparently he was a fact. You
might ask Brown, or Westcott," an
| sWered Parr.
who was he. before he came
| here?"
"A mining engineer" said Parr.
| Brown looked up his references.
| Sauer wasn't exactly shade. Ar
miston. He was flesh and blood
| with a bludgeon."
Oliver ignored the sarcasm.
| What did he leave as an estate.
| besides that gold filing?" he per-
sisted.
"There's a bank balance-about
5000
! That's something. What else?"
| This was demand for material de-
| tail. not the fash of divination the
! deputy had hoped for when first he
| lai before the extinct author the ad :
! vance proofs of the now-celebrated
| vat murder. He drew forth a small
| bundle of slips, on which j. H. Sauer
! had. on one insignificant occa sion or
another. signed his name. 1t was the
handwriting of IA habitual draughts-
! man, as characteristic in it's way as
| that of a teIegrapher. Armiston
| of one who, for the first time, comes
| on the incontrovertible proof of the
| life and activity of a person who
; heretofore has existed for him mere
; ly as name.
The sprite here nudged divers
elbow.
Did Sauer?" it whispered. out of
| the thin air. Admission departed. Late
| in the afternoon he presented him
self at the home of Dean Pettibone,
little red brick house encircled by
! a veranda. near the university. Ar
miston had smoked many a contem-
| plative pipe here. in his school davs.
! and the sight of the comfortabi
study with its swept hearth. gave him
a pang Parr had given him a line to
| ,he Policeman IN charge, for the law
had put it's seals here
i m trying to help" he explained
lamely to the dried-up little secre-
| tary, a woman who had not aged bv
a hair in twenty years. as he re-,
membered her. I'VE are all irving
| to help. | want to look round
| His life is an open book" she
| said. one
You remember his log They've
been through it again and again"
! 1t was life of an open book. q
book OF volumes: Dean Pettibone's
one marked popularity was the desire
to set down everything from day to
day, as conscientious navigator
would make up his log. Pettibone.
! with the precise mind of born
| scientist, had the habit of saying that t,
of all the human faculties. ones
memory was the least entitled to
| trust and respect. Endowed with a
| Photographic memory. he never per
mitted himself to trust it. That Sauer
| should not have left some premonitorv
shadow in this human document,
! which reflected so minutely. seemed
absurd-at least from a metaphysical
standpoint. But Admission was not
voyaging in the realms Of met
aphysics. as he turned page after
mage nnler the Srrntipu IT,