The Birmingham age-herald., 1923-02-25

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 been gentle and had shown no signs of
 illness.
 "Unusual and narrowing" commented, when Frances had finished and was gazing at me in triumph; "but where's the sensa- ton for story?"
 She looked at me with that slow, in- scrutable smile of hers. T really believe you are denser than the police," she said. "Just as I supposed, there buried away on the inside of the paper, in 15 small lines of type, lies what you are looking for and you can't see it even when it's read aloud to you"
 What do you mean?p I asked, puzzled.
 "That," Frances quietly declared, twas a murder.'
 "A murderl Frances, have you lost your senses?n
 'I was never saner."
 But the dog did it."
 Be exact-you mean the dispatch says the dog did it."
 "And-oh, rot Why, the mans own mother was there to see it. You don't expect me to believe she killed him?"
 Probably she didn't. I never commit myself off-hand about anybody's innocence; but probably not"
 "Well, then; she saw the dog do it."
 ''There you go, Sammy. Now let me tell you something; it is mistake-though the common one-to accept the most honest eyewitness without question of qualifica tion. Nearly all the world does it, especial ly lawyers; but why, never could under stand Because an honest person actually saw thing done, we conclude that the thing must have been done as the honest person saw it. No conclusion could be based upon weaker foundation. We see sleight-o performers do all sorts of things in which we do not for an instant believe. That is only another of our logical paradoxes. I call it the fallacy of the eyewitness
 Do you mean to say"
 q mean to say" she interrupted, "that Henry Drumbaugh was murdered I'll go further-I'll say that even if his mother did not do it, my conviction that it was a murder will still be unshaken and can be proved Otherwise, I'll buy our next din- ner here"
 I knew enough of this wonderful girl to believe in even her sublmest folly; and, as I now could see she was in earnest, my skepticism waned.
 How soon can you find the truth?" I asked
 s'In time for me to buy that dinner next Friday in case my contention is mistaken. Get a time table; phone your office; and send a porter around for your suitcase. We'll start tonight"
 Eight o'clock was striking as she spoke My own light baggage I always kept. pre- pared for leaving town at a moments notice, but Frances proved even quicker The result in this instance was that we reached Lancaster at II, and got to Coluni- bia over the trolley by midnight, where I saw my companion properly housed at hotel and went myself to the livery stable to engage the carriage to drive us over to Mount Joy in the morning.
 The Drumbaugh farm, as we found after a delightful ride through beautiful agri- cultural country, lay about two miles out side of the little town-a broad sweep of well-tilled fields, dotted here and there with patches of weeds and with neat red brick house, just off the turnpike in the center of the estate. To my surprise, how ever, Frances had the carriage stop some distance from the dwelling, and, without a word of explanation, dashed off across the fields to the clump of trees nearest the house.
 She was gone quite half hour; and when she returned, noticed that she was full of brambles.