Evening star., 1922-06-01
THE BEAUTY SHOP.
BY arthur b. Reeve
One of The Stars Weekend Fiction Seriea
Complete in three installments.

tion lawyers in the country, director
in a score of the largest companies.
officer in half a dozen charities ana
social organizations, patron OF ar.
and opera. 1t seemed Impossible. ana
T at least did not hesitate to say so.
For answer OConnor simply laid the
letter and envelope down on the
dresser.
1t seemed to take some time to
convince Kennedy. There it was In
black and white. however. In Blanche
Rlaisdell's own vertical hand. Try
to figure il out as I could. there
seemed to be only one conclusion, ana
that was to accept 1t. What IT was
that interested him. l did not know
but finally he bent down and sniHed,
| not at the scented letter. but at the
covering on the dresser. When he
| raised his head / saw that he had
not been looking at the letter at all,
but at spot on the cover near II:
Sniff, sn-ff." he shifted. thought
| fully closing his eyes as If consider
ling something. "Yes-oil of turpen-
ltine."
| Suddenly he opened his eyes, and
the blank look of abstraction that
had masked his face was broken
| through by gleam of comprehension
that l knew flashed the truth to him
| iptuitivekX.
Turn out that light in the corri-
| DOR he ordered quickly.
|
| switch. There We were alone. in
the now weird little dressing room.
| alone with that horribly lovely thing
lying there cold and motionless on
the little white bed.
Kennedy moved forward in the
darkness. Gently. almost as If she
were still the living, pulsing. SEN
tient Blanche Blaisdell who had en-
tranced thousands, he opened her
| mouth.
standing in front of me. followed.
Whats that, those little spots on
| her tongue and throat? They glow.
it is the corpse light"
Surely enough, there were little
luminous spots in her mouth. l had
heard somewhere that there is
phosphorescence appearing during
decay of organic substances which
once gave rise to the ancient super
stition of corpse lights" and the
will-o the wisp. 1t was really due.
i knew, to living bacteria. But there
surely had been no time for such
micro organisms to develop. even in
the almost tropic heat of the Novella.
Could she have been poisoned by
these phosphorescent bacilli? What
was it--a strange new mouth malady
that had attacked this notorious ad
ventures and woman of, luxury?
Leslie had flashed up the light again
before Craig spoke. We were all
watching him keenly.
phosphorus. phosphoric acid. or
phosphoric salve." Craig said slowly,
looking eagerly about the room as
if in search of something that would
explain it. He caught sight of the
envelope still lying on the dresser.
looked at the top where OConnor
had slit it, then deliberately tore
the flap off the back. where It had
been glued in sealing the letter.
Put the light out again. he
asked.
| on the back of the flap. in the dark
ness there glewed the same sort of
brightness that We had seen in
speck here and there on Blanche
Blaisdell's lips and in her mouth.
i The truth flashed over me. Some
it was. on the flap of the envelope.
knowing that she must touch her
| lips to it to seal it. She had done
so. and the deadly poison had entered
| her mouth.
AS the light went up again Ken
nedy added: coil of turpentine re-
| moves traces of phosphorus, phos-
phoric acid, or phosphoric salve,
which are insoluble in anything else.
except ether and absolute alcohol.
eradicate them. but did not wholly
succeed. OConnor. see if you can
| find either phosphorus. the oil. OF
| the salve anywhere in the shop"
Then as OConnor and Leslie hur.
riedly disappeared. he added to me:
| another of those strange coinci.
| dences. Walter. You remember the
girl at the hospital? Look. don't
I you see it? She's afire. Her lips
shine-they shine. they shine"
Kennedy was still looking care
fully over the room.. In a little
| wicker basket was newspaper
| which was open at the page of
/ theatrical news, and as I glanced
! quickly at it l saw a most lauda-
| tory para graph about her.
Beneath the paper were some torn
| scraps. Kennedy picked them D.up
| and pieced them together. Dearest
| Blanche" they read. Il hope you're
| feeling better after that dinner last
| night. Can you meet me tonight?
| Write me Immediately, Collie"
He placed the scraps carefully in
! his wallet. There was nothing more
| to be done here apparently. AS we
passed down the corridor we could
hear man apparently raving in
good English and bad French. 1t
proved to be Millefledr-or Miller
and his raving was as overdone as
| that of a third-rate actor. Madame
was trying to calm him.
Henri, Henri. don't 60 on So" she
| was saying.
"A suicide-in the Novella. 1t will
be in all the papers. We shall be
ruined. Oh-oh"
hat G0S k.,fP ha