The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1931-03-27
The Scaled Trunk

to forestall him by finding her first.
1t was her fathers papers Claire had
tried to get chance to rEmmage
through, and at her own mention to
Forster of the theft Of those papers he
had started.
There must be something among
those papers that he wanted pretty
badly; something that had nothing to
do with the California episode, but
with the work he had done here in
Chicago. Was there, or did Forster
believe there was, among her fathers
papers some precious secret formula?
Was that what with his dying breath
he'd tried to tell her about? And was
that what Claire and Max had been
trying to steal so that they could sell
1t to Forster on their own terms?
Was the conspiracy to ruin her father
at the university an entirely unrelated
thing except for the coincidence of
Claire's connection with 1t?
What should she do when Forster
came back to question her further?
Stick to the truth, which she wouldn't
be able to make him believe? If he
were honestly convinced that she was
an impostor and a confederate of the
Cleveland woman, she was in for a
pretty bad time when he came back.
If only she'd thought of telephoning
to Martin before coming up here.
Her thoughtful gaze came suddenly
into focus upon the bust of Napoleon.
If she could find the way to open that
little trap door she might be able to
reach Martin. Babe would be at home
by now, and she might be able to get
word to him. That was the thing to
try, anyhow.
It must have been some sort of cleo
trical connection that opened the little
trap door. She went over and sat
down in his chair and looked about.
It wouldn't d. to press the wrong but
ton. She studied Napoleon intently.
He had several buttons but none of
them looked as if they pushed in.
She was guiltily restless, sitting in
that chair. She couldn't help wonder
ing whether some one mightn't silent
ly have entered the room from one of
those two doors behind her. She
could almost feel the gaze Of a pair of
eyes boring into her back, and at last,
half involuntarily, she started to turn
and see. AS she did so her knee came
DIN contact with the inner face of one
Of the pedestals to the desk and the
little trap door fell forward. She had
found the telephone button by pure
accident
Heartened by this bit of good luck,
she picked up the telephone and,
speaking as softly as she could asked
for an outside line and gave the studio
number. The luck held. Babes voice
answered almost instantly. She asked
If Babe knew where Martin was, and
gave a gasp Of relief on being told
that he was right there in the studio.
Buy why was he so long about COM
ing2--Why didn't he hurry?
From where she sat In Forster's
chair she faced the principal door, the
one she had come in by. She was still
waiting for Martins voice to come
over the phone when she saw this door
being quietly pushed open. The man
who came in was Max Lewis. His
look of establishment when he saw her
sitting in his uncle's chair would have
been ludlcrous II 1t had not been fol-
lowed so quickly by glare Of anger.
you're here, are your he said
huskily. He added, "Put up that
phonew and snatching the door shut
behind him he bore furiously down
upon her to enforce his command.
She didn't obey him. She chung to
the instrument and tried to say, in the
hope that Martin was near enough to
hear, "I'm at Forster's at the Wor-
cester hotel" But before her tight
throat could utter the words, Max
had got the telephone away from her,
and one of his thick beefy hands was
over her mouth, his thumb and fore
finger pinching her nostrils together
so that she couldn't breathe at all.