Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1922-02-07
md HERE 1T CONTINUES
CHAPTER XVIII


L wife were like bolt from a sunny
without reiteration. Never in the
widest dreams Of the too vivid imagina.
ton of which his cousin had accused
him had this possibility occurred to
him;
do you mean that this man-the
younger one-is the hubsand of Phyllis
Hartmann" His finger touched the re.
production Of his cousins photograph.
''Yes. He's the man my husband
married her to on the twenty first Of
July"
II ought to be-" she anssyered rather
dryly. II was witness.
A younger woman came up the walk
from the street. She was a younger
and more modern replica of Mrs. Ram
Daughter, this Is Mr.. Lane, the gen.
tlcman who called on r,tner the other
day while we were away. Mr.. Lane,
my daughter Ellen. Briskly she con-
tinued. showing her unugnter the pic.
ture Of James Cunningham, Junior.
did you ever sec this man, dear?"
+ Ellen took one glance at It. Hes
the man father marriea the other day."
''When?' the mother asked.
1T wasIlet me see-about the last
week in July. Why?'
Married to who?" asked Mrs. Ran.
kin colloquially.
'"To that lovely Miss Hartman, of
COURSE"
The old lady wheeled on Kirby tri-
umphantly. "Are you satisfied now that
I'm in my right mind?' she demanded
smilingly.
"Have to ask your pardon If I was
rlde,' he said, meeting her smile. "But
the fact is it was sucn surprise ]
couldn't take it in"
'This gentleman is the nephew Of the
Mr.. Cunningham who was killed. He
, thought it was his uncle who had mar
ried Miss Hartman" the mother ex-
planned to Ellen.
The girl turned to Kirby. "You know
I've wondered about that myself. The
| society columns of the papers said It
was the older Mr.. Cunningham that was
going to marry her. And I've seen,
since your uncle's death, notices in the
paper about his engagement to Miss
Hartman. But thought it must have
been mistake, since 1t was the younger
Mr.. Cunningham she did marry. Maybe
do sometimes get things wrong in the
papers, you know
This explanation was plausible, but
Kirby happened to have inside informa-
ton. lie remembered the lovely photo.
graph of the young woman in his uncle s
rooms and the always, Phyllis" writ
ten across the lower part Of 1t. He re.
called the evasive comments OF both
James and his brother whenever any
reference had been made to the relation
between Miss Hartman and their
uncle. No, Phyllis Hartman had been
engaged to marry James Cunningham,
Senior. He was sure enough OF that.
In point of fact he had seen at the
district attorneys Office letter written
by her to the older man, letter which
acknowledged that they were to be mar
ried in October. 1t had been one of
dozen papers turned over to the prosecu-
tors Office for examination. Then she
had Tilted the land promoter for his
nephew.
=, Did his uncle know Of the marriage of
his nephew? That was something Kirby
meant to find out If he could. The
news he had just heard lit up avenues Of
thought as a searchlight throws shaft
into the darkness. 1t brought a new
factor into the problem Mt which he was
working. Roughly speaking, the cattle.
man knew his uncle, the habits of mind
That guided him, the savage and relent.
less passions that swayed him. If the
old man kntw his favorite nephew and
his fiuncee had made a mock Of him,
he would move swiftly to revenge that
would hurt. The first impulse Of his
mind would be to strike James from
his will.
And even if his uncle had not ye:
discovered the secret marriage, he would
been much longer concealed. This
thing was as sure as any contingency
in human life can be: If Cunningham
had lived, his nephew James would
never have inherited cent of his mil
lions. The older man had died in the
nick of time for James.
Already Kirby had heard hint to
this effect. 1t had been at a restaur'
ant much affected by the business men
of the city during the lunch hour. Two
men had been passing his table on their
way out. One, lowering his voice, had
said to the other: "James Cunningham
ought to give medal to the fellow that
shot his uncle. Didn't come day too
soon for him. Between you and me-:
J. G. has been speculating heavy and
has been hit hard. lie was about due
to throw. up the sponge. Lucky for him.
Ill say
It was on the way back from Golden,
while he was being rushed through the
golden fields Of summer, that suspicion
of his cousin hit Kirby like a blow in
the face. Facts began to marsha! them
selves in his mind, an irresistible pha-
lanx of them. James was the only man,
except his brother, who benefited greatly
by the death Of his uncle. Not only was
this true; the land promoter had to
die soon to help James. just how soon
Kirby meant to find out.
Phyllis and q companion had been in
the victims apartment either at the
time of his death or Immediately after
ward. That companion might have been
lanes and not Jack. James had lost
the sheets with the writing left by the
Japanese valet Horikawa. The rage
he had vented on his clerk might easily
have been blind. When James knew
he was going to Golden to look up
the marriage register, he had at once
tried to forestall him by destroying the
information.
cious. He wanted to believe in his
cousin. In his own way he had been
kind to him. He had gone on his bond
to keep him out of prison after he
had tried to conceal the fact of his
existence at the CorOner's inquest. But
doubts began to gnaw at the Wyoming
mans confidence in him. Had James
befriended him merely to be in posi-.
ten to- keep closer tab on anything
he discovered? Had he wanted to be
oIoso ann,,kh IN throw him 0ft the track