The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1939-03-17
SERIAL FICTION---
She Painted Her Face
a stony o. soue and intrigue sy DoRNFoRD YATES

brains =. Well, I'm going to give
mine a show now-before it's too
late"
With that, he walked into the
bathroom, to lave his head and his
hands, and sank down on the bed
and did my best to marshal my
weary wits.
He's right" said Elizabeth,
slowly. Zone always begins the
wrong way. Once we'd been over
the ground, we ought to have sat
down quietly and let our minds play
upon the puzzle. You know. Like
doing a crossword"
That's all very WE'LL" said !, &C
cepting some tea from Brenda, who
showed no sign of fatigue. "But
who could do a crossword without
any clews?"
We've got two clews. We know
that a doorway exists: and we know
that, to reach that doorway. we've
got to go UP the stairs. If"
'.My God," said /, starting up.
There was moments silence.
Then
go on" said Elizabeth, quietly.
"What do you know"
"Your father said that there was
in the tower a doorway which no
one would ever find. And then he
used the words you must go up,
counting your steps But he never
said that the doorway was on the
staircase. He said it was in the
tower"
"You mean
81 mean that we have been look
ing for a doorway which we can
reach from the stair: but we ought
to have been looking for something
upon the stair which, when we have
found it, will disclose where the
doorway isl
"That's right" said Herrick's
voice. "And the stairway bears him
out. There is no doorway there
think we can swear to that. But
there is a spring or something
which, when we can touch it off,
will open some hidden door in an
other part of the tower"
The case was now greatly altered.
We knew that the path we were on
was the right one and very soon
would bring us up to our goal.
And so it did.
Not more than an hour had gone
by when / found on the thirty-sixth
step a nick which might have be-
longed to the lid Of a pencil box. II
was cut in the tread of the step.
close to the edge and close to the
outer wall. It was choked with a
cake of dirt which / had to cut out
with my knife, and an obstinate film
of dirt was encrusting that side OF
the tread; but when had used a
wet cloth to rub the stone clean,
there were the parallel cracks
which I had expected to see. In a
word, / had found pamela tiny,
sliding panel which, if I could draw
it towards me, would discover a slot
in the tread, three inches by two.
(Here, perhaps, should say that
I have now no doubt that the film
of dirt on the tread was more than
the natural deposit which time will
lay, and that, after replacing the
panel, the late Count of Brief had
washed the stone with some liquid
which, when it was dry, would form
an invisible skin.)
Half an hour went by before the
little panel allowed me to have my
way. Then at last, with a crack, it
yielded, and two minutes later ]
drew it out of the tread.
Its withdrawal disclosed no slot,
but miniature well, rather more
than an inch across; and sunk in
this well was bolt of very old iron.
At once we saw that the bolt was
thus holding in place the rise Of the
step upon which we were now at
work, and that If we could pull the
bolt up, the rise would be free to be
moved.
<T1 pr <,0NTyNYTEni