The Ely miner., 1943-11-18
CHAPTER III

Anne closed the door of Room no
behind her and stood for moment,
listening under the open transom.
The door of Room 108, a few steps
down from hers, had been slightly
ajar, and without knowing why or
how she had felt that somebody was
standing behind it, waiting. She
heard it close quietly, and listened
for steps along the waxed floor, but
there were none. After a moment
she went across the room to the
window and looked down into the
sunlit patio where she and Pete had
been. The windows of 108 opened
onto the patio too.
She turned and went over to her
baggage stacked in the corner on
the other side of the window. Again
without knowing exactly why, she
opened the fiat case lying on top of
her steamer trunk, and looked in
side. It was just as she had packed
1t, and yet somehow it wasn't. The
fiat rubber band around the batch
of letters of introduction lying on
top Of her dressing gown was twist
ed as If it had been slipped back
hurriedly. She had put it carefully
fiat 50 that it wouldn't mar the
edges of one of the envelopes that
was broader than the rest.
She looked back at the door, then
reached to the table and took her
compact out of her handbag. She
opened it and struck the powdered
feather puff sharply on the pol
tshed brass face of her suitcase lock.
''Anne the girl detective" she
thought as she blew the powder
off the way police inspector had
showed her once in New York. On
the brass oblong were three clearly
defined thumb prints. The most dis
tinct was probably her own, the 9TH
ers were larger.
She began to unpack her things
humming softly to herself.
As she was almost through she
heard the sharp quick click of high
heels out in the hall, and light
double knock on her door. She
crossed the room and opened it.
"Anne! My dear! How simply
wonderful"
The girl standing there, in a blue
checked gingham dress, blue bow
in her fuzzy taffy-colored hair, her
baby blue eyes sparkling with joy,
held out her hands.
''Yeu don't remember me! Why,
Annel It's Sue Porter-Sue Latti-
mer!"
The sixth form of Miss Oakley's
fashionable school for young ladies
flashed back into Anne's mind.
"Suel Of all people! What are
you doing hereof all places!" Anne
cried. ''Of course I remember you.
You haven't changed a day. Only
where's your uniform? You still look
sixteen"
Sue laughed.
well, I'm not-Im twenty-three,
and Mrs. Russell Porter, and the
mother of two hulking infants, aged
four and two and a half"
That all flashed back too. Spoiled,
wilful, curly-headed Sue who got
letters from boys when the rest of
Miss Oakley's young ladies were
gangly and lank-haired and hope
less everywhere except on the hock-
ey field. The month Sues mother
and the year book had her slated
for the Most Brilliant Marriage she
eloped with Russell Porter, a junior
at M. I. T. she'd met at house
party the week before. Nobody
doubted it had been Sues idea, not
Russelrs, and that glamour had
gone to his head.
"But what are you doing down
here?" Anne demanded.
Sue sat on the bed and crossed
her feet under her.
"Oh, darling, Russell's firm sent
him down." she said with a groan.
SIT was more money, and thought
it would be wonderful chance for
him to get ahead. I thought it
would be romantic. You now-the
tropics? I hadn't heard about cock
reaches and termites. simply hate
it. We're trying to get transferred"
She frightened expectantly.
Bid you meet Mr.. Taussig on
the beat?" n
Anne nodded. "Why?'
Because I want you to help us
with him. You see, he's awfully
important to Russell. He's one of
the worlds leading sanitary engi-
neers, and that's what Russell is"
She swung her bare brown legs
off the bed and went over to the
window That's Russell down there
with him now."
She turned back, her blue eyes ap-
pealing as a child's. "You see,
Anne, I have to do everything I can,
because :. s. well, it was my fault
Russell didn't finish M. /. T. He
was going back, but the baby came,
and SO . you see?"
Anne nodded, looking over Sues
shoulder. Down at a table by the
fountain Mr.. Richard Taussig, in
white linen suit and brown-and-
white eMords, his finger tips togeth-
er in a contemplative arch, looking
much more civilized than he had
in his curious get-up aboard ship,
was listening to the young man be-
side him. Russell Porter hadn't
changed much, Anne thought. You
would have spotted him for an
American anywhere. Sun-tanned
and clean-looking, with broad shoul-
ders and long legs, and very nice.
Doesn't Russell like it here?"
she asked.
The corners Of Sues red mouth
drooped. She looked like an un-
happy six-year-old.
"Yes, he likes it all right" she