Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1922-06-16

to XIII MIN Wnen ne got nit"
"Nothin' doin'. I've been Iayin' for
this boob. I've got him now I'm poIn,
to turn the screws en- and listen to him
boiler"
Bromfeld's valet stepped into tbo
room. "Mr. and Miss Whitford to sec
you, sir"
Annie Millikan nodded her wise III.
tie head. "Jerry's gonna frame him n
ne can. He's laid the wires for if
That's a lead pipe"
Sure" agreed Muldoon. "pn bet
he's been busy all night fixin' up his
story. Some poor divvles he'll bully.
rag into swearin' lies an others hen
buy. Trust Jerry for the crooked
stuff"
We've got to tell the truth" said
Beatrice crisply, pulling on her gloves,
"And Wen do it, too. A pack of lies
can't stand against four Of us all look
ing for the truth"
Muldoon, who was on night duty this
month and therefore had his days free.
guided Whitford and his daughter to
Maddock's. AS they reached the
house an express wagon was being
driven away. Automatically the Ii
cense number registered itself in Tins
memory.
The policeman took a key from his
pocket and unlocked the door. The
three went up the stairs to the desert
ed gambling hall and through 1t to the
rear room.
"From what Lindsay says, the bullet
holes ought to be about as high as his
armpits," said Whitford.
"'Slim' must "a been standin' about
here" guessed MuldOon, illustrating
his theory by taking the position he
meant. "The bullets would hit the par
tition close to the center, wouldn't
they?"
Beatrice had gone straight to, the
plank wall. They're not here" she
told them.
"Must be. According to Lindsay's
story the fellow was aiming straight
at it,"
"Well, they're not here. See for your
self"
She was right. There was no evil
dence whatever that any bullets had
passed through the partition. They
covered every inch of the cross wall in
their search.
Lindsay must have been mistaken"
decided Whitford, hiding his keen dis
appointment. "This man Collins
couldn't have been firing in this direc-
ton. Of course everything was con
fusion. No doubt they shifted round
in the dark and"
He stopped, struck by an odd ex-
preston on the face of his daughter.
She had stopped and picked up a small
fragment of shaving from the floor.
Her eyes went from it to a plank in
the partition and then back to the thin
crisp of wood.
"What is it, honey?" asked Whit
ford.
The girl turned to Muldoon, alert in
every quivering muscle. "That express
wagon-the one leaving the house as
we drove up-did you notice itF"
Number ia" answered Tim,
promptly.
Can you have it stopped and the
man arrested? Don't you see? They've
rebuilt this partition. They were TAX
ing away in that wagon the plankS
with the bullet holes"
Muldoon was out of the room and
going down the stairs before she had
finished speaking. 1t was a quarter
of an hour later when he returned.
Beatrice and her father were not to be
seen.
From back Of the partition came an
eager, vibrant voice. rs that you, Mr..
Muldoon? Come here quick. We've
found n of the bullets in the wall"
The policeman passed out of the
door through which Bromield had
made his escape and found another
small door opening from the passage.
1t took him into the cubby-hole of a
room in which were the wires and in
struments used to receive news of the
races.
asked Whitford.
"We1l get it. Word is out for those
on duty to keep an eye open for it
Where's the bullet?"
Beatrice pointed it out to hin.
There it was, safely embedded in the
plaster, about five feet from the
ground.
"Durand wasn't thorough enough.
He quit too soon," said the officer with
G grin. Crooks most always do slip
Up somewhere and leave evidence be
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