The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1940-09-05
CHAPTER I

I heard the man killed in the Fer
ritter apartment. I heard the words
that brought about his murder, too,
but just then the wheel came off
Miss Agatha Paget's wheel chair
and drove all else from my mind.
The thick voice that I heard over
the telephone and the dull sounds
that followed seemed trite. They
hid, rather than revealed, tragedy,
and I forgot them. Later, they be-
came important. They were small
facts, about which men made mon
Strous theories, as scientists rebuild
dinosaurs from tiny bits of bone.
Afterward, the call pad showed
that it was three-thirty on the after
noon of February twenty-third when
the switchboard clicked and whirred.
was alone in the foyer of the Mo-
relic, for Eddie Hoyt had slipped
out for bite and Wilson, the door
man, was i'll. Higgins, the super
intendent, who was filling in for him,
had taken the elevator upstairs.
The operator was slow and l scrib-
bled the number on the call pad
while l waited. A voice buzzed in
my ear again, apparently speaking
to someone in the Ferriter fiat, in a
tongue l did not know. I thought it
might be German, for it was blunt
and cultural.
Then I heard an odd sound, half
grunt, half cough, and faraway
bump that must have been the lamp,
or the body, falling. At the time,
though, thought it was Miss Pag-
cts wheel chair.
Warren, her chauffeur, was trun-
ding her in. He had had trouble at
the door for there was no one there
to help him. l looked up and saw
a wheel rolling down the hall The
chair had sagged. Miss Paget was
hanging to its upper arm and laugh
ing while Warren struggled to keep
it from overturning. ran to help
Miss Paget.
She was the oldest tenant by age
and residence in the old Morello
Apartments. This was one of the
rare buildings in Manhattan that
had endured into mellow age. The
foyer was furnished in mahogany,
tile and gloom, and on the ceiling
dim cherubS were tangled in fad
ing ribbons The Morello Apart
ments sat, brown and ornate, be-
tween bleaker, newer buildings with
a calm weathered dignity nothing
could break-rather as Miss Agatha
Paget sat between Warren and me
when at last we had righted her
wrecked chair.
I had been mailman at the Morello
less than week but already knew
that she was important. The pomp-
Gus ass, Higgins, had squirrel the
passages of her wheel chair between
elevator and car as though they
were royal progresses.
Now the old lady sat and preened
herself like ruffied little hawk.
She was oddly alive for one whose
legs were useless. Time had worn
but not blunted her. Years, had
sharpened her high-bridged nose and
wrinkled her face but they had not
loosened her mouth or quenched the
zest in her blue eyes.
She caught my eye and grinned,
broad, warm and vital.
THANK you, David" she said.
"You are David, aren't you? You
all look alike in those uniforms.
Warren, know what that pious look
of yours means. / remember quite
well you've warned me that this
chair was going to pieces. And I
said it would outlive me, didn't II"
She cooked an eye at me, parrot
wise and as we half carried, half
propelled her along the hall, felt
her looking at me again. Higgins
and the elevator still were upstairs.
/ rang the bell.
From the street came the sound
of protesting motor horn. I rang
again. Miss Agatha clicked her
teeth sharply and announced:
I've lived here forty years and
there's never been a day that the
service didn't get worse. Who's on
the elevator"
Higgins" I told her.
She gave again the little audible
bite.
His wife is away, isn't she?"
The racket of the horn cont ued in
the street Miss Agatha said isply:
Ring that bell, David, I tell
you to STOP"
Above the distant shrilling, 1
heard AT laSt tba old v.,ircb ~ fba