Coulee City dispatch. [volume] (Coulee City, Wash.) 19??-19??, 1937-10-28
WITH BANNERS

Brooke was too indignant to an
swer. What did the man mean by
the threat he had inserted so casu-
ally between two sentences? What
did he know? Had Jed Stewart and
Mark Trent confided to him their
suspicious as to undue influence?
Were they grooming him to testify
for them? Had they set him spying
upon her? Should she repeat his
threat and demand to know the
truth when Mark Trent came? No.
Better cool down. She was too fu-
rious now. She would wait until
after Sans play. That must 60
smoothly; it might be his big
chance-after that-well, after that
she would investigate few things,
she would find out why Mrs. Hunt
and Henri were SO friendly, to begin
with.
With eyes wandering to the tall
clock, ears strained to hear the chug
of the servants fivver on the drive,
inhaling the scent of gardenias with
every breath, her thoughts returned
to Mark Trent's message. Why had
he phoned? Perhaps she was drama
tizing his voice, perhaps it hadn't
been mysterious except in her mag
nation.
'"There they goi I'd know the
wheeze Of their car if heard it
among a million. I'll wait five min
utes before phone Mark the Mag
nificent. Must be something in the
air. First have hot chill and
then cold chill, I'm so excited"
She watched the clock. Dialed.
Waited. Probably Kowa had gone
to the movies. He-She put her
mouth close to the transmitter.
"Mr. Trent? Brooke Reyburn.
They've gone"
"Okay. I'll be there like shot"
Brooke replaced the telephone.
His voice was excited. It had set
her nerves tingling. She would be
at the front door to open it before he
had chance to ring.
In the hall she listened for his
step on the terrace. Why did he
take so long? His ''like shot,
was more like an hour.
''I'm here" a low voice an
nounced behind her.
In her surprise, Brooke leaned
back against the door and looked
up at Mark Trent. She never be-
fore had realized how tall he was,
nor how black his gray eyes could
be.
"How did you get in?"
''The connecting door upstairs.
Took the quickest way. Lock that
door. Give me the key. I'll put
it in my pocket. Queer things are
in the air. We won't take chance
at being locked in or-out"
That didn't sound as if Henri were
his tool, Brooke thought, as she en-
tered the living-room.
'Where is Mr.. Micawber?" Mark
Trent demanded, his eyes on the
empty cage.
Brooke told him what Henri had
told her.
"Um, lost him, did he? The plot
thickens."
His voice was uncompromising
his eyes unflinching and direct as,
hands in the pockets of his dinner
jacket, his brows knitted, he looked
at her.
"Ooch, I'd hate to battle with
you," Brooke thought. cit would
be like trying to dent steel wall"
Aloud she said:
"What is the mystery? 1t is mys-
terry, isn't it? I've been jittery ever
since you phoned"
His smile was a flash of white
teeth below his small dark mus
tache
"Glad got my Big Moment over.
Can't have Sam monopolizing all
the drama in the neighborhood.
Sure the Jacques have gomez"
II heard their car go out. One
couldn't mistake it's wheeze. I told
Henri that we would have supper
here for the cast after rehearsal
and that he would not be needed"
Fair enough" He caught her
hand "Step on i'll"
Why was Mark Trent afraid to
have Henri, his tool-if he were his
tool = know what he was doing,
Brooke wondered, as, side by side,
they hastily mounted the winding
stairs. She felt as if she were in a
dream, as if at any moment she