The Bismarck tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, N.D.) 1916-current, 1923-01-31

! HiS Srie1. ne leiA iHtO d Oeep Steep
almost at once, but cit was then
morning and could make only a
superficial search. There was tur-
! pentine nowhere but in his studio"
! $50 we drew a blank, eh, Profess
sor semyonov?" Barry shrugged.
"Sorry to have kept you up all night
and made that request of you for
nothing, but l had bunch that
someone who had no business to DO
so had touched that portrait Of
Mrs Vansittart last night while the
paint was, wet and brought away
traces that they would try to get
rid of at all costs"
1t was the professors turn to
shrug.
II know nothing of that, for
have not yet heard what you may
have to tell nae, my friend, but the
myself known to him not only as
his neighbor but as the person you
know at headquarters, he admitted
me. think the poor young man was
glad of someone to talk to-, for
after your departure the full i'm
turpentine l did find. and in a most
unlikely place." he observed. "You
forget that horrible stuffed dog in
the apartment of Henry Griswold."
NO" responded Sergeant Barry,
thoughtfully, 81 have not forgotten
the dog"
CHAPTER VIII
"You may have forgotten the dog,
but l have not forgotten my break
fast!" Professor Semyonov laughed.
You have had yours. Sergeant :?
Then, while | make my tea l hold
you to your promise to tell me what
is permissible of your investiga-
tons"
ut seems fairly evident, thea,
that Miriam Vane, the portrait
painter. was born only few years
ago" He remarked when the detect
i've finished. 81 wonder who iDhabit-
ed that splendid body before that,
and what havoc she wrought in the
lives OF men and women?"
"Oh, undoubtedly she buried a
past Of some kind but as I told the
chief, it need not have been a dis
creditable one" Barry's matter-of
fact tone was in sharp contrast to
the dreamy, almost mystic note
which had come into the Russians
voice.
"And the empty cartridge shell 2"
the professor reminded him. "No,
my friend. That was her ghost of
Banquet"
81 think SO, myself" The sergeant
rose. 81 won't keep you from your
laboratory any longer now, profess
sor.
, will you let me know the real
report of the medical examiner
after the autopsy? The full report,
whether it is all given out to the
press or not? asked Profes sor
Semyonov. II make particular refer
ence to the distance from which
the shot that killed Mrs. Vane may
have been fired"
In spite of himself the detective
started slightly.
But you have calculated that al
ready, sir. You SAID. last night after
/! We returned here to your rooms that
1t must have been fired by someone
] she knew who was in the studio
with her and that she may have
turned from her canvas to speak to
this person and so presented the
opportunity for an unimpeded
Faim-!"
Again the professor smiled and
this time it was with significance
which told Barry that it would be
! useless to dissemble.
"You forget that spoke then be-
fore had made my search of all
the apartments for traces of tur-
pentine," said the professor. res
pect your professional reservations,
my friend, but l, too, have eyes! In
the studio of Mrs. Vane, observed
the raised window shade, the little
bull's-eye-the cross in red paint
on the back of the portrait and the
small puncture which had pentrated
it, and turning, l looked over at
that dark and silent house across
the strip of garden. Some Of it's
blank, staring windows were direct
ly in line and l wondered"
Not another word on the subject
could Barry persuade that eccentric
scientist to utter and the latter de.
parted, still smiling, to leave the de.
tective in decidedly reflective
frame of mind. Time pressed, how.
ever, and descending the stairs
Sergeant Barry easily persuaded
Hedge to unlock the door of Henry
Griswold's temporarily empty apart.
ment for him.
After dismissing the janitor he
proceeded to force the drawers OF
the desk neatly and with dispatch
but the documents and ledgers with
which it was filled told him nothing
and in spite of himself the, rigid
form and fixed, CLASSY stare of the
melancholy, moth-eaten old hound
in the corner seemed boring into
his consciousness reproachfully as
though even in death the beast
would guard and defend his mast.
er's possessions.
Leaving the desk at least he
crossed and examined the stuffed
animal closely. 1t was, as the pre-.
fessor had said, redolent Of tur.
pentipe and the musty, spicy odor
of taxidermy Of other days. He was
lingering one of the long, still silky
ears when the door suddenly burst
open with such force that it banged
against the wall and Griswold strobe
in, stopping short in speechless as.
constituent and affront when he
held the intruder.
Then his glance travelled to the
rifled desk and found his voice in q
string of oaths which left him pant
ing and mottled of countenance.