Perth Amboy evening news., 1922-11-16
The Man With Steel Fingers

The great drawing room through
which Monsieur Jonquelle
was empty.
But it was not silent. A vague
music. like some weird conception
of Tschaikowsky, seemed 10 feel
about the room, extending itself
a thing that crept blindly and dis
turbed as though it would escape
from something that followed II
~tirelessly and invisibly.
1t required the fingers or a master,
on the board of a keyed instrument
to produce these sounds. Ihey
came from the room beyond, a
second drawing room looking out on
the Bots de Boulogne.
Monsieur Jonquelle had not al
lowed the servant to announce him.
zone is not permitted to disturb
Lord Valleys at this hour" the
servant had said.
Monsieur Jonquelle's card had
added to the mans ~perplexity. One
was also not permitted to deny an
entrance, anywhere, at any hour, TO
the Project Of Police of Paris. The
man had made a hopeless gesture,
like one resigning himself to the in
evitable.
Monsieur Jonquelle, after the
door had closed behind him, re-
manned for some moments quite
motionless in the eddy, as n might
write it, of this strange, weird
music, in which there was always q
note Of ruthless vigor-a note OF
barbara vigor, harsh and deter
mined.
Monsieur Jonquelle could not
- - -..-ufn IN onrr rpmPm hnTPd
composition. 1t was not the work
Of n master that he knew. 1t was
an improvision of the fingers that
produced it.
Presently he advanced into the
room from which the music issued.
He paused a moment in the doorway,
watching the figure with white,
nimble fingers hard as steel. fhen
he spoke.
"Your pardon, monsieur" said the
prefect of Police. II am desolated
to disturb you"
The man at the piano sprang up
and turned swiftly as though DIS
body accomplished the act with a
single motion.
To the eye, the man was strange.
His shoulders were very broad ana
stopped; his face was wide, massive,
the face of a Slav. His hair was
thick, aclose and heavy, but it was
not long, and affected no
isms.
The man was very carefully
dressed, after the English tashlon.
and with its well bred restraint. But
the impression he gave m was de.
cidedly not English. 1t was that OF
a SIav adapted to an English aspect.
u IfI not COO (lnn
rarely saw them. They seemed to
be hidden by heavy lids like cur
tanned windows. And there was no
expression in the face. The face
was a mask. 1t seemed always in
repose The big nose, the square
brutal jaw, and the wide planes OF
the face, were white as with a sort
of pallor. Monsieur Jonquene had
a sudden, swift impression. The
man before him was either
greatest criminal or the greatest
genius that he had ever seen.
Jonquelle had also a further m
preston of failure. He had NEAR
TO start1e this man, n observe
what followed. And he had startled
but untrue to every experience
there was nothing to observe. n
mans face remained without an ex-
preston; he was behind it hidden
from every eye. 1t was a mask that
could not be changed by the will of
another. Monsiuer Jonquelle Won
dered in what manner it would
at the will of the mar hat
It so admirably obscured. 1t was a
thing he was not interested TO dis
cover.
It was only for an instant that
The man was without expression.
Then he smiled and came forward
into the room. The smile began
with a queer lifting of the lip and
extended vaguely with but a slight
changing of the mans features.
His voice, when he spoke, was low
well modulated and composed. l4is
manner was easy and gracious.
"Ah!" he said, sit is Monsieur
Jonquelle, the Project of Police OF
Paris. I am honored."
Monsieur Jonquelle removed his
gloves; he sat a moment twisting
them in his fingers like one in a
certain embarrassment. His host
also seated, regarded him with the
vague smile which appeared now
In q sort of background on the mask
of his face. The Project of Police