Plentywood herald. [volume] (Plentywood, Mont.) 1908-current, 1936-04-30
CHAPTER II-Continued

He caught Mr.. Crowell inspecting
the tag sewn onto the back Of his
waistcoat. Well, that was all right,
and, Of course, nothing could be
wrong, when the trousers were to be
sent by parcel post to John Clarke
Ridder, Jr." at Southampton. Before
the Duke departed, Mr.. CrowelI had
secured orders for a sack suit and
evening clothes. "Charge 'em to my
father" the Duke said, and Mr.. Gro
we'll answered, Certainly, and I'll let
you know when we're ready to try on"
This procedure, and those following
at the haberdasher's and the shoe
makers, rufrled the Dukes conscience
far less than the hundred-dollar bill
had done. I'M pay 1t all back some
day." he thought. without asking him.
self how.
On the return trip to Southampton,
1t struck him that he'd got a pretty
extensive wardrobe for one dinner
party. "Well," he argued. suppose
/ do stay a month. l might as well
be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb.
and nothing much can happen before
my fathers return - unless the real
John Clarke Junior changes his mind
about writing to Bad Nauheim."
OF course. the Judge might write
to felicitate the old man on having
made 1t up with his boy. What then?
That wouldn't tell them that this
wasn't the same boy. Still 1t might be
safer to hint to the Handbags that
the Riders were going to wander
about a bit before arriving at their
destination.
The Duke leaned back In the Long
Island Railways best parlor car, and
opened a newspaper he had bought
at the station. Almost Instantly, he
saw his new friends name again. "Jef-
ferson Street Condemnation Just An
other Grab" the headline ran. "Civic
Association Brands Proceedings Be-
fore Judge Hambldge as Bare-faced
Loot Of City Treasury"
They're certainly making 1t hot for
him. Barry unused.
He wouldn't have read the story,
but for its reference to the Judge.
Even so, he read 1t very casually.
Somebody wanted to turn a side street
into a boulevard. That involved buy
Ing a lot of property. And the prop
erty owners weren't willing to sell for
what the city was willing to pay. so
condemnation proceedings had been
instituted"-whatever they might be-
and Judge Hambidge was to fix the
value of the ground and houses.
who really owns this property 2"
the Civic association asked. The cor
poratlon that held title was an obvi-
III stalking-horse. 1t had been formed,
and had purchased the land, and
buildings, only a few months before
the beginning Of municipal interest In
Jefferson street. And 1t was demand
ing a million and a hal, for "a few
relies of a better day In this neigh
borhood that would have been dear at
half a million" Tammany's paw was
visible In the whole transaction, ac-
cording to the Civic association. and
the impending decision called for
prompt action from individuals and
organizations aware that Judge Ham.
bldge was a Tammany Judge.
Prompt a%ctlon2" Swell chance !
Who cared? Plainly, the taxpayers
didn't, and Barry wasn't ever a tax
payer. AS a couple Of million other
citizens were to do that evening, he
dismissed the whole matter from his
mind, and turned the page, looking
for a good murder.
Reaching home. he went straight to
the library.
The winter covers had been removed
from the furniture now, and the place
wal bright and shining. The Italian
box had been filed with cigars. Bend
Ing over to get one, the Dukes gaze
fell upon an envelope addressed to his
ether self.