The Wilmington morning star., 1940-04-30
CHAPTER ONE

You won't gain anything by be.
ing sulky about it," 1 called back
over my shoulder. My voice shook.
Out here in the garden all was
quiet. The full moo slistened or
the placid river just beyond the
willows. The tall figure of Alfred
Markham, with whom l had been
talking, leaned against the railing
at the end of the rose arbor, face
tilted up toward the stars.
Through the partly opened glass
doors Of the clubhouse [ had seen
Jerry Montcalm approaching across
the lighted hallway, staggering a
bit as though he would welcome
fresh air. I met him in the doorway.
Laughter and the clink of glasses
sounded from the clubroom beyond.
whats matter dear old Al-Al-
fred?" Jerry asked, clutching the
handle of one of the doors for sup
port. Heard you quarreling. Bill,
you - hic - look sick. What's
wrong?"
I waved him back inside and
wiped my perspiring forehead lerV-
ously. Nothing, Jerry. Please cave
him alone. We've had a row.
What? You and Al? Coed old
Al. Best of friends, w at would
you-hic-row about?'
7 moved into the hall, pushing
Jerry with me, and determinedly
shut the door. 1T really wasn't
important, Jerry. Forget it. Every
thing will be all right. I don't know
NEAR it,
"'Course he didn't. I'll speak to
him I"
I put an arm around Jerry's
shoulders and guided him away.
Come upstairs and soak that head
of yours in cold water" 1 suggest
ed. You're a little under the wealth
er, old man"
Never felt better in my life he
protested, stubbornly, pulling loose.
GO upstairs ~yourself.'
"Okay, if you'll so back to the
party"
"A barsain-a bargain. pal
My head swan. My fingers vel
coined the cool, solid support of the
stair rail. I started up the deep car
peted steps 70 the living quarters
on the second floor. At the landing,
turning to look back, l made sure
that Jerry was stumbling back to-
ward the double doors Of the main
clubroom. Someone had started to
play a lively tune on the piano and
the crowd was singing. Jerry was
singing, too, off key,
My hands still were trembling as
I washed them. I hadn't realized
how the quarrel with Alfred had
frightened me. 1 had suspected late
~ that there was something wrong
with him, but I hadn't known until
tonight that he might become VIC
lent.
Through an open window I faced
the opposite l. of the clubhouse,
:iutting out toward the river on the
south side of the garden court On
the far shore slumbered the long
wharf at which the river steamers
discharged their cargQes of pota-
toes. Beyond. the lights of the city
marched away until they blended
and glown5 in wisps of fog drifting
over the theatrical district in the
distance.
The clubhouse had been built for
quiet and privacy near the end of
a narrow peninsula around which
the river made a sharp bend. The
building cut across the neck of land
so that the rear court on which l
looked down was enclosed by the
two LIS" and by the river flowing
past on the west. It was in this en-
friend.
I was glad there was no one else
on the second floor, and that my
absence from the party aroused no
attention. The singing and piano
playing continued.
But just before 7 stepped out Of
the room ten minutes later, the MI
sic drifting up the stairs stopped. A
"a in the hall below was speak
ing eXcitedly. A sudden confusion of
other voices broke in upon him. A
chair overturned.
I ran around the corner of the
hall to the top of the stairs and
looked down. The speaker had come
in through the glass doors from the
court.
I didn't recognize him until some
n in the startled group in the
clubroom doorway noticed me and