Evening star., 1942-02-18

s~~>S
gained his balance and had taken
his own gun from its holster.
"I1l carry on from here" said
Hazard with a nod Of approval to
his deputy. And as for you, Mr..
Jocelyn, If you'll just step into
the library there are a few mat
ters that need to be cleared up"
II must have been a little mad"
said Robert Jocelyn few moments
later from his chair on the other
side of the library table. He took
a small silver key out of his pocket
and looked at it ruefully. Then he
handed it to the sheriff.
That bag" he explained in
constrained tone, contains the most
closely guarded secret of my life.
When I saw you with 1t, I-weu,
I struck out instinctively. I guess
I must have gone little berserk.
Sorry knocked you down.
Sheriff: Hazard hooded a little
grimly.
He fitted the key into the lock,
keeping one eye warily on the now
subdued Robert Jocelyn.
With a painful intensity the poet
watched Hazard lift sheaf OF type
written pages from the briefcase. At
the bottom of he pile there were a
number of envelopes with the name
of a well-known publishing house
on the upper lefthand corner. They
were all addressed to John Tyne. In
voluntarily Sheriff Hazard whistled.
BY all accounts Tyne was the most
popular writer Of mystery stories in
America. The royalties from his
books were said to run into astro-
nomical figures.
Now you know" said Robert
Joycelyn miserably. -
The Sheriff Impressed.
Your" asked Sheriff Hazard un-
believingly. do you mean to tell
me that you are John Tyne?"
Jocelyn nodded gloomily.
But why all the secrecy?" The
sheriff was frankly puzzled.
Not being a literary man, you
probably wouldn't understand" A
dull flush had mounted to Jocelyn's
cheeks and was slowly suffusing his
face. "You see, I've earned a-cer-
tain reputation as a poet. Not a
great reputation, but I hope I may
say a sound one. But you can't live
on the proceeds Of poetry. So ] try
my hand at mystery stories"
And darned good ones they are,
too" said the sheriff. I've read
everything you've ever written-and
enjoyed every page"
"That's very kind of you" ,Joce-
lyn said a little uncomfortably.
But nonetheless I should not like
to have my identity known"
"A very worthy occupation, I
should say" Sheriff Hazard could
not understand Robert Jocelyn's
scruples. To his way of thinking a
mystery story was as good as a
sonnet any day, and vastly more
enjoyable. However. If it will set
your mind at rest I'll be glad to
Keep your ScCICI 4Ol yOu.
That's mighty decent of you"
Jocelyn said, looking vastly relieved.
"And now if you have no further
use for my manuscript I'll take it
of your hands"
His voice was just little too
eager. Sheriff Hazard gathered up
the papers and put them back in
the briefcase.
"I'd like to look them over first"
he said. They'll be quite in order
when I return them to you"
Apprehension clouded Jocelyn's
features. But the protest he was
about to make was interrupted by a
discreet knock on the door.
Sorry to interrupt you, sir" said
a correct Gavin from the threshold,
"but you've had a tiring day. I
thought YOU might like to know that
dinner is about to be served"
The Telephone Quits.
The two policemen ate in a small
guestroom just off the dining room.
Through the open doorway they
could hear the subdued murmur of
conversation. Pauline Thorpe had
invited the sheriff and Mr. Wether-
fether to dine at the main table
with the other guests, but they had
declined. The sheriff had wanted
to utilize the dinner hour to sort
out in his own mind the medley of
impressions he had received during
the day. Mr.. Wetherfether, who al
ways followed his superior officers
lead in such matters, ate in silence.
Since Gavin was busy in the main
dining loom, Mrs. Shelby herself
served the two men. She moved
about the room with quiet eff
cheney, capable and unobstrusive.
Mr.. Wetherfether, mellowed by the
excellent food she placed before
them, watched her with increasing
admiration as the meal progressed.
Outside, the storm gave no indi-