The Daily Alaska empire., 1934-06-25
gR@ -cTz.o1elc1 at ROCKING HOUSE RY WklreR C. BROWN
BY WklTER C. BROWN.


 i the detective stated, ito determine | who did write the letters" | The butler made a free gesture with his hand. T have noNobjection, sir"
 Harper handed him a blank piece of paper and pencil with soft lead. "Please print, not write, what I dictate"
 | Andrews nodded, whereupon liar per began to read the letter which | bore the buffers imprint. He read lleisurely, giving the man ample time to draw the letters. When it was over he placed a fresh piece of paper before Andrews. "Now." he said, "this time go as fast as you can" His dictation doubled in speed and his repeated admonitions of Faster! Faster!" sent the buffers pencil scampering.
 Harper compared the two papers. "Please do not mention this test to any one in the house." the detective ordered. "Only the guilty person need fear the result"
 A long look passed between the two men, profound and searching look on both sides. You may rely on my discretion, sir," said An drews gravely as he turned to leave. As soon as the butler had gone Harper brought out the test papers again and compared them, not only with the original letter, but with each other. Andrews specimens seemed to be quite genuine and to substantiate his denial of author ship.
 THE sight of Mrs. Dufresne's l ruined slippers, rescued from the rubbish by Lafferty's zeal, sug- gested an easy way of checking that lady's writing, with no one the wiser. Harper locked the door to the break fast-room and betook himself to the cellar. Two square rubbish boxes stood under the stairs. One contained crumpled paper bags, discarded advertising matter and waste paper of various sorts. Scattered here and there among these were slips from the pad Mrs. Dufresne used for writing out ques- tions and answers since her surgical wrappings had enforced muteness. There were about a dozen in all and Harper quickly gathered them, not stopping to read them there. He had snapped off his light and was about to ascend when he heard foot steps on the stairs and placid-faced John Whitmore appeared, carrying an armload of empty boxes.
 "Whitmore," Harper began, "have you the time to do little job for mel"
 The handy man nodded eagerly, delighted to have a finger in this most superlative of thrillers.
 The defective lowered his voice to the proper conspiratorial pitch. "I want you to go to all the rooms up- stairs, empty the waste-baskets, and bripg direct to me what you find in them"
 "But emptied them all first thing this morning." Whitmore whispered. Harper nodded. q know you did, but do it again. That includes Mrs. Dufresne's room. Act very casual about it, so no one will suspect any thing. Understand"
 "Oh, yes, sir" Whitmore respond ed with alacrity. "I'll go right away" Harper followed him upstairs and was walking through the dark-pan. eled hall when he saw that familiar figure in the huge fur coat making toward the front door. May l have a word with you, Doctor!" he called, and Dr. Ulrich swung around.
 "How is Mrs. Dufresne today?" Harper asked.
 "Doing we'll enough" Ulrich re. sponded rather curtly.
 "When will she be able to talkf ] have some questions to ask her."
 "She is not to talk for several I days, at least. That is final. If your questions can't wait, I'll arrange an interview. She can write out the an. swers for you, but insist on being present"
 | "Thanks, but prefer to hear the answers from her own lips" | "Well, then. you'll have to wait" Ulrich snapped. his waxed nous taches bristling and his black eyes glaring behind the goldrimmed | glasses.
 l Harper watched his brusque de. iparture from the vestibule, curious to know the reason for the big doc. tors anlmosity. He returned to the breakfast-room and sat down to study the salvaged slips that bore Sylvia Dufresne's writing. There was absolutely nothing to be gleaned from the contents themselves. and the detective could see no points of similarity between Mrs. Dufresne's swiftly paced and essentially femi nine style and the broad incisive strokes of the anonymous penman. The longer he bored over the let ters the firmer became his convic
 tion that man had written them.
 There was something about the sequence of events that baffled pen.