The Wilmington morning star., 1940-07-18
CHAPTER ~TWENTY-ONE

Bill Bailey wasn't quite sure
where to start.
He sat down on a straight chair
for a minute to be ure nobody had
observed his coming, and to &C
custom himself to the darkness OF
the room, while organizing his
thoughts. 1t occurred to him that
he would never make a success
at the profession of burglary.
I'm scared silly, with nothing
to be scared Of" he admitted to
himself-he who had been a crush
ing All-American football half
back only a few months ago.
After a bit he tip-toed to the
rooms one window and lowered
the shade fully. There was no
transom or other opening for ven
tilation, although sundry unlovely
odors had come in. Many of them
now were associated with dinner
grease, fish, garlic, mustiness.
boiled vegetables. All in a poor
boarding house melange.
He decided to start with the bed.
There was one Pillow, and without
ripping it he felt through the tick
ing at every feather and tiny lump.
With his fashlight next he inspect
ed the mattress. The seams showed
no evidence of recent opening. 1t
W. 1i@41o ,oorn 4hor n ooffNr nod
about three inches thick anyway,
and so he could feel in and through
it as he had the pillow. All of the
covers, the springs. tn shabby
bedstead were thoroughly
searched, to nc avail.
There was a dresser and he
started with its two top little draw
ers. Their contents were woefuliy
scanty. Hairpina A little jar of
cold cream or something like that
Ct had a fancy name.) Some scar
let ribbon neatly folded. Only one
pair of stockings. Six plain but
dainty handkerchiefs, scented
above the house odors. A gold and
enamel pin of the college sorority
type. A pretty little cluster of arti-
fetal flowers.
The two lower drawers we're all
but empty. One held two pairs of
pajamas, both badly worn. Neatly
in the other were stacked some ex-
tremely brief garments which Bill
named only as scanty-pants, and
some folded things he called shirts.
These he moved carefully, pressing
each between his hands, looking
under the plain wrapping paper
which lined the drawers, missing
no possible corner, but putting the
garments back as carefully as he
could.
Then he pulled the drawers all
out and looked in their openings,
probing into every remote corner
of the dresser, front, underside, top
and rear. Then he moved to a.
trunk which, fortunately, he found
unlocked. 1t presented a greater
problem because he wished to
leave no tell-tale marks of his
search. but he labored on.
When he had been there about
an hour, he sat down again with a
sense of defeat. Except for a tiny
table with one drawer, he had in
vestigated every possible cornr of
the room and its furnishings. He
had even stood on the chair to look
carefully along the picture mold
ing near the ceiling, and had taken
an ugly brass lamp apart with his
pocket knife for a screwdriver, to
e inside its head and base. Bill
remembered reading a story-by
Edgar Allen Poe, wasn't it?-in
which just such a search was con-
Quoted. He thought it was Poe.
Object of the search there was a
letter, and it had been right before
the searchers' eyes all the time, in
an obvious location.
For a moment or two there he
grinned to himself, feeling distinct
l silly.
I'm getting to where I believe
storybook doings," he thought.
"Im glad nobody knows about
this"
Even so, something told him that
he wasn't being as childish as he
might have thought. He was driv-
en- only in small part by a sense of
Bella LANAN-COURT RI