Evening star., 1923-10-24
Continued from Yesterdays Star.)
Another Mystery.

Another Mystery.
ME woman In whose house
stead Iodged--an old-fashioned
farmhouse, which was one of
the few ancient abodes left in
the valley-looked askance at Inspec-
tor Cortelyou when she answered his
knock at her front door.
His rusty tall hat his unusually
oid-fashioned garments. his Mrs.
famplike umbrella, made her consider
him a suspicious character, and she
only opened the door to the extent of
a very few inches as she inspected
him.
GOOD morning. ma'a am" said the de-
tective blandly and genially. "It is a
beautiful morning. Mr.. Stead, of
course. Is not at homer"
NO, he isn't" answered the land
lady.
-, Just so. ma'am," said the inspector.
L did not use those words ma'am
in the form Of question. but as an
assertion. Mr.. Stead Is not at home
The fact is-though 1 don't want to
shock your nerves., and I am sure L
shant. as / see you are a sensible
,%oman-the fact is, Mr.. Stead is
locked up
The landlady looked her scorn and
disbelief, and made as if she would
smut the door in Inspector Cortelyous
Ion peculiarly his own. had already
lnsinuated himself as far as the door
mat, and the woman, suddenly seeing
him determined. drew back.
,1 don't believe it, she exclaimed
The mere idea of a highly respect
able gentleman like Mr.. Stead being
in prison--a church warden"
"Ah, my dear lady, I've seen a good
many church wardens sent to prison!"
said the detective. Yes, and clergy
is arrested and is locked up at the
police station till be can be brought
before the magistrates, and, in the
meantime, I've got warrant, which
you can see if you wish, to search
his rooms In your house. I'm Inspec-
tor Cortelyou of Scotland Yard
here's my card"
The landlady sank into a chair
close by and grasped her apron con-
vulsively. You're the detective. then,
murder?" she said, gazing at Inspec-
tor Cortelyou with frightened eyes.
You.-you don't mean that he's ar
rested for that?"
The inspector gave her keen look.
'"Why. Is he anything to your" he
asked suddenly.
mo" she said, shaking her head.
'no-nothing. But I knew his mother
Il served under her at the castle. Oh
Il hope 1t isn't that-Sir Robert was
always so good to them both, and
especially to him.
"Well, 1t isn't that-yet." replied
Inspector Cortelyou reassuringly.
Hes arrested for forgery, that's all
there's no need for you to distress
yourself. And now let me have a look
at his rooms, there's a good soul"
The woman led him along the hall
to sitting room at the rear of the
houSe-a room of some size, from
which two French windows looked
out upon garden and an orchard. 1t
was a pleasant room. furnished after
the style of an old-fashioned farm
house parlor. and had little attempt
at ornament or decoration.
There were a few old steel engrav-
ingS and some older colored prints on
the walls, and few books were ar
ranged in giass-fronted bookcase
in one corner, but the detective looked
in vain for any particular signs of
personality or for things which
bachelor likes to gather about him.
Everything was very neat. formal
and precise.
~ expect everything in here is your
property?" he said, turning to the
woman, who stood in the doorway
holding the corner of her apron to
her mouth, and watching him Won
deringly as he looked about him.
FURNITURE and SO on, mean?"
"Oh, yes, sir" she answered. 'At
least, all but that desk there in the
corner. Mr.. Stead brought that with
him when he came. All else is ours
my husbands and mine"
Then I'll look at the DESK said
Inspector Cortelyou. And as I see
It's your washing day, l won't detain
you. I'll leave the door open, so that
can call you If I want you"
The woman looked at him wonder
ingly again, and went off down the
passage. Inspector Cortelyou drew
out a bunch of keys, which had been
taken from Stead's pocket during the
search, and approached the desk-an
American roll-top desk of good make
and some capacity. which was fitted
with a patent lock. He found the key
and threw the top back, and began
his search.
Al the end of an hour Inspector
Cortelyou, relocking the desk again,
had to confess to himself that, with