The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1933-08-25

or the syringe with which the crime
was committed.
"Just the same, Tommy" the SER
geant pursued, and paused to puff at
his pipe, ut wasn't altogether wash
out. In fact, found one thing every
bit as important as those we were
looking for. It was neatly tucked
away in the bottom drawer Of Buck
ley's bureau-a long, plain yellow
gown, resembling those worn in mon
astic orders"
"a yellow gown" Rankan repeat
ed quickly. "You mean robe like all
the brothers at the initiation wore, ex-
cept the officers and PLEDGES, Dan?"
"From your description, practically
no difference. I thought you'd con-
slider it significant"
"Of course it is" the younger man
agreed. Buckley would certainly
need such robe to get into the
chapter chamber disguised as mem
Der. And he'd have to look like the
majority to join the line Of those who
were to unite the PLEDGES. He must
have gone by taxi from the Morton
club to his apartment to call for it
and then slipped into it in the hallway
of the fraternity; it doesn't take a
second"
Gilmore went on. 81 put it back in
the drawer, because there was a
makers label in the collar-Kings-
tons, the fancy costumers on Walnut
street. His testimony would estab-
lish its ownership; Buckley had either
purchased it there or ordered 1t spe.
cially made. I finished my search and
quit the apartment"
Rankin detained the sergeant with
gesture as he rose to leave the Office.
"Just a moment, Dan, I've another
bit of work for you, If you're willing
to take it on. want you to visit the
university hospital, and look up a
graduate nurse named Florence Dali
ton. If she isn't there, try her ad-
dress it's 1920 Harmon street. I in
tended interviewing her, myself, but
I'm not sure can get around to it
today. Find out whether one of the
boys from the fraternity, Ben Craw-
ford, phoned her shortly after ten
o'clock, on Tuesday night; and then
called on her about half past. That's
his story of what he did later, the eve
ming of the initiation. He claims he
cfo yaA with until r,nnrnin0 Qnd
only went in time for class. merely
want to check it up"
"All right, you'll have your report
on it," Gilmore promised.
Immediately after his departure,
Rankin received the findings of the
city chemist and of the finger-print
expert. With regard to young Hey
wards chemistry laboratory, from
which the poisons were stolen, john
son had searched painstakingly for
marks Of the thief. And he had dis
covered two alien prints close to where
Patterson stood when the graduate
student unexpectedly caught him at
his workshelf. One, smudged, but OF
some value, was on the bottle con-
tanning Heyward's supply of atropine;
the other, more distinct, came from
the shelf itself. Compared with the
imprints on the razor blade and the
two Walls Rankin had removed from
the sponsors bedroom, they proved
identical, line for line and whorl for
whorl.
AS to the contents Of the walls, 1t re-
quired very little analysis to ascer-
tain their nature. Both Mr.. Sykes,
the chemist, and Hayward, when asked
for an opinion earlier that morning,
identified the powder as the missing
atropine and the liquid as CONNIE;
and the first tests confirmed their
diagnosis. Thus, Patterson's guilt as
the pilferer whose theft must have
been in connection with the murder,
was doubly established. And even
more suspicious, the two grains Of
atropine taken from the laboratory
were still intact; but of the six alb
stracted drops of the liquid, barely
three remained in the vial.
There was still a third report due
the detective that morning, which he
heard after studying these statements.
1t came from jerks, who had been dep
utized to shadow Patterson. At three
thirty, the preceding afternoon, he
stationed himself on Locust street,
where he could observe his comings
and goings without attracting atten-
ton.
But HIS vigil was profitless, until
Patterson walked out of the fraternity
at eight o'clock that evening.
"You followed him, of course,
jerks; well, where did he lead you?"
downtown by trolley to pawn
shop ON Tenth street, near Race-the
Finance Aid society,"" jerks replied.
you probably know it, Tommy; it's
run by a Greek, Peter Savoulos, whom
we suspect is fence for less valuable
stolen goods. At least. he isn't par
ticular about the property he lends
money on. Missing stun has been