The Monmouth inquirer. [volume] (Freehold, N.J.) 1865-1933, 1926-07-15

Lon I. you. LHtuh1 uS DtSdhJ gus
he was interrupted by a sound as Of
timid, hesitatng tap at the door.
For a moment the two men remained
silent, looking at each other. They
were not expecting company just then.
Presently Jackson spoke, almost in
whisper.
do you suppose that's Sedley com
twM back?"
Very quietly Sloan removed his feet
from the desk and closed the cigar
box. He regarded Jackson with eyes
suddenly wide.
do you suppose its"
The door was pushed open from
without and heavy face, coarse and
brutal but frightfully pale, beneath
stiff black spikes of hair looked into
the room. A pair of clouded terrified
eyes searched every corner before
the tall, thick-set figure advanced and
closed the door Then they saw a man
standing just within the room, speech
less and trembling nervously In
moment. Sloan recognized him.
''Well, Mr. Ulussenbaum," said
Sloan, though not quite in his natural
tone, what can we do for your"
Again the cloudy black eyes. which
seemed to harmonic strangely with
the smoky darkness of the room.
wandered over the little Office. Then
the pale lips moved quiveringly
"Old Br-Mr Bridgman amt here
is he?" asked a harsh, cracked voice
mo, Mr.. Ulussenbaum," replied
jackson, smoothly. Doubtless you
haven't heard that Mr.. Bridgman is
dead"
'Oh yes, have. heard it. heard
it," muttered the man, rapidly and
hoarsely. q know he's dead but-are
you sure he's not My God, what's
that?"
In his nervous scrutiny of the room
he had half turned and caught sight
of the coat Sloan had laughed at
hanging Imply against the door
With hysterical. choking cry. he
staggered away and flung down let
ter on the rickety table.
There" he gasped, wildly thrustine
his hands into his pockets and nring
ing them out filled with gold pieces
there's the bill and here's the cash
He began feverishly throwing the
gold upon the table.
"In full, do you hear, in full Font
come near me. Pm paying you ! tell
you every cent And interest. if YOU
want it. There. Don't touch me-"
And the man heaped gold on the
table in desperate haste.
During these strange actions Sloan
quietly rose and got between the actor
and the door, SO that when U1ussen-
baum had thrown down the last eaglt
and turned to go. he found he could
not pass out For 8 moment he glared
wildly and then lunged forward
Just one minute, sir" said Sloan
cody, steadying the other with an
outstretched hand Il only want to
give you receipt for this. A mere
formality
The door, which had not shut quite
tight, was blown forward little by
a slight draft, and the coat, hanging
there, swung softly to and fro. illus
senbaum's eyes dwelt on it for mo-
ment, fascinated, then he thrust out
his powerful hands and dashed Sloan
to one side.
Damn you, don't keep me here" he
was shrieking in a whisper. I don't
want no receipt. Devils! Devils! Let
me get out" With one stride from the
table to the door, he rushed from the
room and ran precipitately down the
stairs.
For moment, after the sounds had
died away, Sloan and Jackson stood
gazing at each other through the dark
ness, across the gold-strewn desk.
Then Sloan silently struck match
and lighted the smoky little oil lamp.
both men looked cautiously around
the room before they chose fresh
cigars and sat down, still in silence.
After while Jackson spoke deliber-
ately.
what the devil was it?" he asked
Sloan shook his head.
where's the bill ?" he asked did
Ulussenbaum leave it here? It might
explain
.'Of course" returned Jackson, sit
ting up quickly, that will show. He
left it--under the money there. some
where"
Together they gathered up the scat
tered gold pieces and piled them neat
" to one side. They did not touch
the paper underneath until all were
collected and counted Then Sloan I'M
folded the document and they looked
it over together
1t was the bill, just as they had
last seen it-David Ulussenbaum, deb
tor to J. H Bridgman. the items plain
ly written out. and the legend, please
settle at once, above Bridgman's
welIknown signature. But, below, in
a hand very like Bridgman's, but feeb
Ter and weaker at every turn. written
with scratchier pen and fainter ink,
was postscript:
'P. S.-Since writing the above /
have died. Settle with Sloan g Jack
son at my ONCE"
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