Evening Star Newspaper, November 20, 1921, Page 69

THE ‘SUNDAY 'STAR, WASHINGTON, D. 0, NOVEMBER 20, 1921—PART 4 0. 142, on the south-side of the street, a high-stoop, English- basement dwelling, was oc- | cupled by the widow of Amos P. Huntington. The departed, A _drab, inoffensive ltttle person, had | wn ~himself into eternity while ‘orpdiinding synthetic rubber. ‘The| ef?f was a little Dresden china| «tdfr;""as evidence of her quality, Ye ‘%drove a smart plum-colored otklfam, drawn by a smarter pair of ,xod¢hed hacks, and on the box, when she was a-wheel, sat & coach- man’ghd a footman in plum-color, two fZern, middle-aged males. One by-eh the brown-stone residences on the north side, which faced No. 142 and its few brave companions, had been -converted into garages, and maahjna-shops for sick motors. Mrs. Hunungton, in addition to these ag- zressione on her domestle peace, had suffered. the further indignity of neing ‘dragged from her sheltered zrief into open court by the fusur- ance -guarantors of her husband. twlea the little widow had won the sympathy of the jury who, in two «ults,, had awarded her tha full , amount . of the claim, a quarter of a rofliion dollars. iregtly across the street. In No. 43, wae a machine shop which in . mrime. odor and noisy clamor differed ‘B noy vespect from iis neighbors. An gbservant person might have noted that all of its mechanics were youn, stood elx_feet, and weighed 18! pounds. No. 143 was of the police; it was one of that series of care- fully masked dead-falls which that arch man-hunter, Deputy Parr of Center street, had planted in unex- pected corners thioughout the city. At 10 of an early winter morning ! 1 car of some cousequence came to a | axky isguttering . stop.calghed: and tied, at the curb tn front of No. 143.| The driver, & man of six.feet, welgh- | ng, say 185 pounds, got down. opened | ‘he' hood, and stood regarding his siling_motor with the forlorn look af a medico whoso patient has gone heyond his skill. A red-headed me- hanic came out, evinced sympathetic interest, put his head under the hood. “The chief,” said the driver, bend- 'ng down and speaking in the me- ¢ hnhlll‘t'! ear, “wants a report on Num- ber 1427 * k k ok THE mechanic reconnected a high- tenslon wire with a spark plug, thus restoring the consequential power to its full faculties, if an emergency arose. He tore a blue \ticket in two, along a line of perfora- tion, handed one half to the chauffeur 4nd_tied the other half by a stout | cord to the windshield of the auto- mobile. The chauffeur strolled away to a back-room haunt of chauffeurs and mechanics, to while away a few hours getting acquainted. The me- when her brougham drove up and drove away. That afternoon two studious young men, bearing heavy instruments, called at No. 142 to test the electric meter. Shiny {nstruments were spread out on the basement stalr- way, with the Interested servants watching and now and then oblig- ingly handing the two scientists, by request, tools whose nickel-plated surfaces hud been especially prepared for fingerprints. The next day tele- phone linemen asked for and re- ceived permission to pass thrcugh the house to the roof to-untangle wires. An finspector for the water depart- ment, a most entertaining fellow, in- spected taps for leaks. A dispute Laving arisen in some obscure quar- ter as to encroachment on the build- ing line, & young man must enter and open every window from the in- side to measure the protruding sills with a rule. Once, when he was lean- ing far out of a drawing-room win- dow he asked politely over his shoul- der would Mrs. Iuntington please puss him his magnifying glass, which the little widow did graciously, pick- ing it up quite unconsciously in the hand in which she held her lace hand- kerchief. In departing he offered her his fountain pen to sign his call-sHp, but, not seeing the gesture, she used her own pen instead. By the end of the week a complete dossier of No. 142 was in the hands of Mr. Parr. In only one point had Parr's camera- eyed sleuths failed; they carried away nothing bearing the imprint of the pink finger-tips of the patheti widow herself. Later. when the mag- nifying glass was used in Center street, it vielded only a hazx replica of her fine lace handkerchief. Parr selected a cigar for himself from the pasteboard box by Oliver's elbow. * ok ok % RMISTON, the extinct author, was | merely another phase of Deputy Parr's amazing versatility. Armiston had been a weaver of tall tales, thrill- ers. On oue occasion he had been too realistic; a cunning thief had actually copied Oliver's fiction into fact, with murder as its outcome. The ensuing sensatlon had driven the hectic author into retirement. Here the argus-eyed deputy found him. why mnot fact inte fiction? So rea- soned the very practical deputy of If fiction could be done into fact, then | police. Parr would dress the stage for Oliver, with characters and scenery. and ring up the curtain on a frozen plot. The results had always, to the matter-of-fact policeman, bordered on the mysti ¢ “As a matter of fact,” said Parr, confidentially, “we don't detect crime. Crime detects itself. “It's too bad the perpetrators aren’t so_obliging,” put in Oliver. “But, my dear fellow, they are— that's just the point,” sald Parr, ex- pansively. ‘They detect themselves, Parr?” <chanic resumed tinkering. An bour later Mrs. Amos P. Hunt- THE WIDOW LEAVES FOR ington descended the steps and en- tered her brougham. Her footman wrapped her in moleskin and mount- pd the box; her mincing pair moved off. At this moment the red-headed mechanic scemed to come to the de- cisfon that a trial run was necessar! He_ started his hypochondriac motor. and rolled along in the wake of the plum-colored brougham. At Columbus Circle the traffic sig- nal fell against the plum-colored brougham and the horses came to a atop, snorting motors on all sides in- stantly piling up. The attention of a man in a brown derby on the side- walk was arrested by the flapping blue ticket on the windshield of the motor directly behind the brougham. e halted at the curb, and casually ook off his brown derby and mopped his forehead. The red-headed me- ~hanic answered by blowing his nose a red bandanna, and stared ab- stractedly at _the plum-colored brougham. The traffic sluices opened, the jam started to move. But the red- headed mechanic turned east, and in ten minutes was back to No. 143. “Does any one follow, Willlam? ‘lkedllh; Dresden china widow in her_telephone. “No, ma'am,” responded Willlam, the footman. speaking out of the co: ner of his mouth, without moving his s, into the recelver at his shoulder. ‘Fhars was one,"” he added, encourag- ingly. “The he turned off. But that same afternoon, when she ‘was about to turn into the avenue at the misty hour of -winter twilight, she sicked him up again, in her “busy- hody” mirror. In the mirror the cut of his jib fairly screamed his origin and purpose, to 4ne experienced eyes of the widow. 'olice? No doulbit of it] 'The flutter of his motor sounded behind. “é‘rafill. ‘Willlam—pocket him!" cautioned the lady. “He's gone, MA’AM—EONe CToi rown,” confessed the disconsolate Wwilllam. Now suddenly Sophie Lang became all alert. “Did you see him pass the ‘office,’ william?” But Willam had not. Undoubtedly the “office” (she had nnconsciously dropped back into the rgot of her craft) had been passed. Fhey were hunting her in relay: Sophie preened herself. She laughed oftly. Instantly <is closed her etty lips over her pretty teeth ‘zain. Out of the corners of her long ves she examined her neighbors in he procession. Among them she ‘new must be one tied to her heels ike noonday shadow. She tried her nld bag of tricks, one by one. But th no results—extept certainty. When finally that afternoon she r rned to her domioile, hz devious s, "her headed m: nkering with still another aiok totor at the curh in front of hi shup; e did not even raise his eye: echanic opposite—but | Armi “Oh, absolutely. Inevitably. That is—eventually. The element of time HER AFTERNOON DRIVE. enters, of course. We simply "l!.1 explained the peliceman blandly. ooner or later every crook comes home to roost. I have a man sitting orn ~the door-step waitirg for him.” Parr smiled childishly. “You must admit it requires some intelligence on your part to pick the right door-step,” said Armiston. “Not at all!” retorted Parr. “They give us the address.” He chuckled. ston returned to his ciphering. ery dog has its flea,” said Parr, nodding solemnly. “Every crook has ! OF A BIG, BARE ROOM WITH A LASY NAW IN‘A BLUE - was turned, we'd say s We used to say that Sophie signed his squealer. I have never known ll!‘et the to fail” “How about the crook without a pal?* rr_sniffed contemptuousl: ‘He brags,” he said tartly. “Saueals on himself. It's all the same, In the long run. We have no failures. Un- finished business, yes. Sooner or later somebody blabs—blabs on me! That's what I'm here for! Let me illu trate,” he went on gravel; ever hear of Sophie Lang? not. She was before your time. Armiston shook his head. “In the ald days,” Parr sald, used to assign our bright young men to the Sophie Lang case. It was like sending a machinist's apprentice for a left-handed money wrench, or a quart of auger holes. There wa'n't no such animal” He laughed. “Oh, ah! A legendary crook! that's beautiful!” exclaimed Oliver. “Legendary is right,” assented the deputy. “None of us We knew her only by When we came a cropper, we'd say “That's Sophie.’” When something slick “That's Sophie.’ lone-wolf—the “Did you 1 suspect “we T say, ever saw her. her works. her serious work, like any othe artist. Well, Sophle’s said Parr T’auly. “A squeal?” "Cafillnly. ‘What else? Haven't I been telling you?" “But who—who squealed?” Parr assumed a hurt look. “Who?” he repeated. “How the devil do I know? An anonymous let- ter.” He grunted. “They drop on my desk like the gentle dew from heaven. I am assigning myself, in my old age, to the Sophie Lang case. But this time she ain’'t no impossible Sophie——" he_paused for “Sophie is Mrs. Huntington.” insurance turned up,’ animal. effect. “The widow?” Parr nodded slowly, his eyes gleam- widow — the et s on a poor helpless female. female is good!" And shook with mirt] “Have you looked her up?’ demand- ed Armiston. * ok kK GNTATURALLY. Everybody looked her up. Clean Too clean. That's Sophie. od I've come to you. ,” the deputy said. research. his findings. Anything. ish,” said Parr. some human hair on finger mark iike to see Oliver was his white lock with contemplative finge Helping himself to a fresh -igar, the deputy of police guessed he would be moving. - From that moment Mrs. Amos P. Huntington gradually faded out of the picture. The outer semblance of that quondam widow remained—her clothes, her epeech, her aspect of grief; but beneath it all was Sophie, watching with beadlike eyes. For several days she devoted her talents to catching the red-headed mechanic in the act of passing her bodily to the tender mercies of his relief. ~But never did she detect the actual mo- ment. This was_finesse! Maybe it was the great Parr himself! She thrilled for an Instant on this note. Then she decided on a stroke boldly characteristic. 8 “hen William had tucked her in among her moleskin robes he crossed ophie’s finger-prints.” mselves disliked, for picking Helpless Parr fairly has slate. Sophie doesnt react to the ordinary meth- “That's why I thought maybe you'd like to undertake a little psychic “What's her line, Parr?” asked Ar- miston when Parr finished recounting Sophie lsm't squeam- “I've got a paper- weight in my museum collection With it—and some T've always thought I'd abstractedly brushing PARR WITH ELATION. carried himself. The widow spoke In & little thread of a voice which broke, here and there, when she would close her eyes with a sigh. But the ele- ment of humor in the transaction was the ultimate appeal. himself, * ¥ ok *x i\. FEW days later Parr held up by one of his own regal traffic cops at a busy corner, had.the grim satisfaction of seeing Sophie taking his red-headed mechanic out for an airing. The new car was quite as perfect in its way, as car imported from France. The mo- tor occupled a glistening bandbox away up forward. Sophie was in- aft. visible living thing aboard, perched out of the bare deck amidships. was making a Roman holiday of him. Parr could not repress a chuckle—it was 8o like Sophie! The Dresden china widow (or what remained of her for popular consump- tion) did not vary her surface rou- tine by a jot. Before many days had passed she had - isolated her red- headed mechanic’s pack-brothers. One was a man with a brown derby, who always chewed a cold cigar. The other was a frayed taxi-driver with a moth-eaten beard, who had a stand just off the avenue. They were mere- ly the hounds following blindly. It was the huntsmen behind of whom she must catch a glimpse. Her sixth cense told her that her daily life was closely hemmed in as is an ex- panse of ocean by a cloudless sk Lic real artist of the game was yet to reveal himself. Some move must be impending. 3 Her telephone she handled with the utmost ~delicacy—they had tapped that, of course. Whenever she used it, she would set it down softly, then instantly pick it up again, and listen for minutes on end. Nothing there— it required exquisite patience. And then, under her very elbow. some one vawned incautiously three time: d said lazily, “Oh. dear, oh, dear!” So- phie showed herself 'her little white teeth in the mirror, that looked down itself had been her prancing pair—a town- closed in a gorgeous candy-box away Parr's man was exposed to the world and the weather as the only on a slender capstan of a seat arising She ing. Armiston eased himself back in his chair and said disgustedly: “I've been meeting her around for years. She's—she's eminently spectable,’ protested Oliver. “Sophie would be,” agreed Parr. Armiston found Parr's complacency irritating. “is there anything to suggest So- phie?’ he demanded. “There's that quarter of & milllon dollars,” chuckled Parr. Then, with sudden inspiration Oliver queried, “Has she signed 1t? You say she does—or did." i “There {sn’t & flaw in her case,” sald Parr. “That's her usual signature. Limpid. She's beaten the Insurance people twic your sheltered little Widow. They put the burden of proof on her. It wasn't any burden—for Sophie” He guffawed. “She hasn't 2ot the boodle yet—they are marking time for another appeal. ‘They'll only re- %o the red-headed man and Informed him that his mistress would have speech with him. “What is your name?” she asked when the red-headed man stood re- spectfully, cap in hand, at her car- riage door. “John Hanrahan, plied. “I have had my eves on you for some time, John, without your know- ing it.” sald she, keenly. “You are to enter my service,” she informed him, with the large air of confer- ring an inestimable favor; and with- out awalting an answer she told John that he was ‘o g0 with Willlam to bring home a -ew car—she was giv- ing up her pair because the pavements were too hard on their feet. William was Instructed to take John to the taflor and have him outfitted. All this with a graclous smile, while she complimented John on the way he he re- ma'am,” on her eaves-drepping. Her nimble mind drew a picture: it would be a big bare room, th a lazy man in a blue uniform, with receivers strapped to his ears, seated at a desk; and this police ear grafted to her wire would always be attentive. " Once Sophie was rewarded by hear- ing a door open, in that vague room. Again she heard the tread of feet: then the murmur of cautious voices. But it was the ticking of a clock— two of them, in fact—that pleased her most of all. How like a stupid cop, to lie in walt breathless at the mouthplece of a microphone, with a AParr while.he .waitea.« .. - - blatant clock at his elbow! giggled. THE GRACEFUL LITTLE WOMAN, CLOTHED IN A CLOUD OF BLACK, ENTERED, WEEPING. “LIFT UP THE CURTAIN, SOPHIE,” SAID DEPUTY | gope! “THIS IS WHERE YOU STOP FOR THE NIGHT.” | us, to hand out to the first claimant “Rotten =ervic he mumbled, after a long wait. Parr nodded gravely. “Parr,” said Oliver abruptly, over the top of the telephone, “have you He's the one that squealed, of course. hiding out.” of this a was electri, on_the He 1 the telephone from Oliver's grasp. “V she on there ‘ertainly.” said Oliver easily. That telitale needle gave its_hook in No. 142. doe.. eh? Eh?!" snarled Parr. ing needle on his desk. if released by an unseen force, calibrated scale. lurker was withdrawing, on tiptoe. Parr jammed hi: rushed from the room. While the Lakewood train bridges that span Newark Ba was rolling over hill and dale where her stylish hackn auiring winter coats and new hoofs. in drowsy ease. moment this morning s self-accusation. Hanrahan, the red-headed mechanic. as usual, who conducted her. distance ' behind, rise, came on the man in the brown derb; discarded his derby for a cap, thrown aw; mustache. Perched out there In'tlie open where | the widow could watch him breathe wasn't his idea of being a detective. But ahead of him this morning was a taste of paradise. Arriving at the farm, he was waiting in the kitchen when there entered a pert little French maid, a round pink person of Chippendale pattern, on high heels vhich gave to her walk the tilt of a allic poodle. She tripped daintily over to him, sat down on the edge of his bench, and indicated with a pro- pelling shove that he was to move over a little—not too much. She folded her hands primly on her little lace apron, regarded him under her lashes. Then they both fixed their eyes on the woodbox and smiled happily. An hour later, when his lady up- stairs called for her motor, the red. headed mechanic (city bred) had changed his ideas about the attrac- tions of the country. As the motor rounded the drive and passed the mate cityward the mald tossed a Kkiss to the moon-struck sleuth. ' In West 'Broadway the elevated trains growl all day and ali night, peering in at the upper floors as they pass, where life is frankly uncur- tained. A man in seamy uniform and a brass-bound cap with a number that proclaimed him an elevated motor- man examined doorway after door- way, always with a glance at the upper windows, as he picked his way along _the gidewalk. Finally ascend- ing three rickety steps he rang a grimy bell, in response to which there appeared a capacious Sicilian woman with a baby squatting on her hip. She could understand nothing he said. With a twitch of a shoulder_she con- ferred upon him the freedei of the house. On the first landing, he picked out a door toward the front of the house and rapped sharply. He listened. Then he rapped again and again, louder and louder. Doors above him opened and shut, but the door he gt- tacked stared at him blankly. He retraced his steps to the street. At the corner he sighted a policeman. “What's that?” sald the policeman, bending his head to listen. Together they crossed the street. “There,” said the motorman. “I think that man is dead. He's been sitting in that window for thlrty~ulx| hour: He went on to explain ,hlt he had passed and repassed that‘face in the window on his day shifts at the con- Sophie | troller of his trafn—until finally it got on his nerves, so he had come on The end of the fourth week found | foot to see what was up. The police- Parr vawning and scowling. _“The damned thing is frozen— solid!” -he muttered, settling himself heavily in his favoritp elbow chair by Armiston’s desk. - Armiston said nothing. It wasn't frozen, to him. It was merely that the element of time had entered in. This yarn had “written Itself,” as he would say professionally. He had merely brushed the tips of his clairvoyant fingers, invoked the oracular keys of his faithful twpewriter, and the con- gealed action which Parr had laid at the feet of his Medicine had straight- way come to life. He had written finis, and locked his typewriter, and packed for Lakewood. Then he wait- ed _for his friend Parr to call on him. Leaning back in his chair Armiston idly tinkered with the needle of some electrical contrivance. The grand- father clock ticked, the fire crackled, and the deputy scowled misanthropi- cally at the fat Buddha in the corner. ‘The needle Oliver held in his hands made a spontaneous gesture. It swung over to the middle of a calibrated arc —.Mm ;t-nd A::‘al::.c as l’f';hnunt on something. n, with & yawn, set the thing do: and presently picked up the telephone. He rested on one elhow, watching his friend | | | man pushed his way through the halted trafic and stamped up the-! stairs. He put his shoulder to the door and it fell with a weak, splinter- ing smash. The man was dead— quite. The officer threw up a smeared window and blew on his whistle. Shortly other policemen appeared, running. A little while later a black wagon backed up to the door and car- ried away the man in the chair cov- ered with a herse-blanket. Another wagon bore off the fat Sicililan woman and her baby, and several other terr fied denizens the house. They said he had been & lodger for some months, & r man—oh, yes, very r. Jt was his habit to sit in that window by the hour, by the day sometimes. Had he any friends come to see him? Who could say? The whole world might pass up and down that dingy staircase without ques- tion. . In the little building on the river front at the foot of East 26th street, where black wagons drive up at all hours of the day and night and osit burdens covered with horse. lankets, a man smoking, languldly _interested. souls come herei' they must be inspected, suspected, any object offered in pawn. - Others..come - hers, anxious made any effort to find the husband? 1 suppose the poor devil got tired of The effect of these words, or rather puty of police hed out with one gorilla-like hand and snatched|{but maintained silence. 0 you tip her off—under my nose, Oliver continued to watch the spy- Abruptly, as it flopped back to zero, nothing, on the It was as signifi- cant as the snap of a dry twig. The b was | Parr to an attendant. picking its way across the draw- the estuaries of v the Dresden china widow to Byam, a little lake among the hills y8 were ac- On the spur of the e had thought of her beloved horses with a tinge of It was honest John Some coming into sight now and again as her car topped a . only for this occasion he had his cold cigar and acquired a By Frederick Irving Anderson mothers, brothers, friends, seeking. [demanded Parr roughly. An attendant pulls out drawer after drawer for their inspection. Some- “Madame, she give them me—sho no want, them more. My 'usband—li- times a shriek tells the hangers-on | was die—Il est mort!” that & quest has ended. A stocky man, evidently a mason, who had come directly from his work, was whispering to the attendant, trembling. The attendant listene and nodded. He knew—yes, mason inclined his head, brushing his 1eves with a lime-stained hand. His brother, he sald. The attendant made a grimace over hiz shoulder. and the man with the elgar lgnrowhed. %o ing the mason with a bleary look. He took out a note-book, and they talked in low tones, the policeman making entries as the other answered. £ *“You will have to be corroborated, of course,’ sald the policeman, not unkindly. “But why?" ejaculated the mason, horrified. The policeman eaid he couldn’t ray why—they had to be careful. The mason produced his union card and other credentials to establish his identity. * %k K THE mext day a littlo funeral party departed from that side street “parlor,” with what pomp ths poor may give to their dead. There were four carrlages, three of them empty with blinds drawn, and in the first the only mourner, the mason. On their return, the policeman with the cigar met the foremost carriage— there were some final papers to sign for the records. When the mason stepped down he looked up and saw | they were at the porticoed door of a big building. He drew back involun- tarily, but the man with the cigar had a double twist on his coat sleeve. | ““Come along quietly, and don’t start |anything,” he said amiably and led {the mourner up the stone steps and into a room—a big room—in which isat a man at a desk. The man at the desk was Parr, deputy commis- sioner of poll “Ha, ha! At last. Well, how'd it |g07” asked Parr. looking up. The mason strajghtened up, breathing bard. “Sophle almost got away with it sald Parr—“knocking the old duffer off, like that, with arsenic in his And turning the stiff over to that comes along to identify it—you thought you weren’t everf taking a chance, didn’t you, William?" It was William, the footman— ‘William redrawn, some lines erased. as plausible as a raised check. swallowed hard. Parr pointed toN'a glass paper weight on his desk. Did you ever see that before? Answer me!” he snarled, with sudden ferocity. William looked from Parr to the paper weight, and back again, “What did Amos P. Huntington call " he demanded. ! himself twelve years ago, when he left his finger prints on that paper He pointed to the electric needle, | weight, in the Park place murder? trembling over the middle of the card. S % Parr referred to a crime that had warning | gone down in the annals as a cele- every time a receiver was lifted off | brated mystery. ‘To the two|no more. watchers at that moment that trem- ulous needle personified the woman!Broadway had the same finger prints. herself, the eavesdropper, probably at | William a that instant cocking her pretty head with the swift movement of a startled | rubber plant, William?” asked Parr. It was & mystery The obscure man who was found dead In his chair in West not answer. “What did you blow up, in your “Was it a basket of cats—or dogs- or did you borrow another of your brothers from East Sophie put the remains through the crematory so fast we didn’t have a look in." Parr laughed. So did Willlam. By that Jaugh Parr knew that questions were useless. At that moment the door opened, and Armiston came in, hat down and|swinging a stick. “Take him downstairs!” growled A Charge him with—complicity in the murder John Doe, alias Amos P. Huntington. Parr's eves twinkled. When Wil- Yam had been led out he said to Armiston, with some relish: “As a matter of fact, Armiston, you ought to be downstairs on charge!” “But how- b St right in. Is “Certainly,” You are a wonder, Olive: to start Sophie after her husband Don’t tell me you didn’'t” said the deputy, as Armiston tried to break in with ‘a word. “I heard you. You knew Sophie was listening in on the telephone the other day inPyour study. RS when vou lold me in a loud voice £o out and find her husband—t ] IFE had become a hed of thorns|he had squealed on ner. On the 19\’3:?, for the red-headed mechanic.|Armiston, I thought you were squeal- ing on me! Then me! You've go; all right, Oliver “Well, it wa it all cs the geods me_over You're the obvious thing to do, of ‘course.” agreed Oliver, now preening himself. “T knew vou couldn’t find him. I knew the only way was to scare her into starting after him herself—then your men could trall along behind. It made a very good ending of the story, I thought.” said Oliver. “Your men trailed her, of course “Well. as a matter of fact” sald Parr, weakly, “she got the jump on us. You know Sophie! So we just sat back and waited” “Waited!” efaculated Armiston. “Oh, Sophle did her part—she pro- duced’ him, all right” eaid Parr. Dead.” he added grimly. He related swiftly how the bogus Amos P. Hunt ngton, who had been blown up by synthetic rubber and cremated, In the end came to his death and burial in %0 obscure a manner that the police would never have known who he was, overlooked. My window-washer.” safid Parr. He's a wonder, too. He managed to borrow a razor. among other personal effects of the late Amos P., that So- phie had packed away in a box. We found finger-prints on it that corre- spond to that,” he said, pointing at the glass paper-weight. “When his dead body turned up. with the same finger-prints, the rest was simple enough.” And Parr, who had com- { placently encompassed the murder of a murderer. by neglecting to follow Sophie too closely, leaned back in his chair. “Oh, they all come to pot, sooner or later,” he said, in his phil sophic mood again. “But, Sophie—" | “Oh—she’s on her way downtown now,” exclaimed Parr. “Sit still Yo see her.” . THE Dresden china widow, an hour before, had set out on her after- noon drive to air her red-headed me- chanic. At Forty-second street a po- liceman said gruffly: “Drive up to the curb, young fellow.” The red-headed mechanic had obeyed with alacrity. “Let me have your keys,” commanded the traffic policeman. He took the proffered keys and calmly locked the doors of the litter. Sophie could not escape now, except by smashin |:]u!4 “Take her to headquarters commanded the traffic man. While Parr and Oliver sat talking, Sophie was announced. The graceful little woman clothed in a cloud of black entered wee;lnt and sniffiing in her handkerchief under her veil. ‘Lift up the curtain, Sophie” said Parr, with a full breath of elation. “This {s where you stop for the night.” She lifted the vell, disclosing a tear-stained face, pathetically pretty. Parr with an oath lifted himself out of his chair. “What's the joke, Hanrahan?” he bawled, at the red-headed mechanic. nhhkn. sir? Joke?' protested Han- an. | “Look at her, you fool!” snarled the deputyd ‘Look what you've brought here is rag doll done up in crepe!” The lady here burst into a torrent of words. “I not understan'” she wailed, in French accents. “I am Madame ‘untington maid. She move, 1 come to town—three-four daye—to make ready. She move. This after- noon, I go out—to get lestle air. The policeman—he lock me in! Oh, he lock me in! I scream—I cry—I knock on theq window. I come here. This {nln‘ h® say to me ‘Don’t start noth- ngs'—" Hanrahan was holding his head. He was reviving that episode in the kitchen that made the country seem 8o attractive to him a few days gone “Where did you get those clothes?” it was |don't get it. here; and he r¢lled out & drawer. The jon the ¢ He | 26th street? of that what—I got your wize— |bhoys there—did | diet till they are responded Parr, a- except for one thing Sophie | “Take her away!" roared Parr. “What is the charge?’ acked the meek Hanrahan. z “Oh, anything—anything,” snarled Parr, “so long as the newspaper You, & detective! You Oh, @ear phie Lang case! | oh, dear! ‘When the door closed on the fig ‘ures. it was Armiston who broke thi. painful silence. “After all,” he said dreamily, was a signed masterpiece! kh, Parr That was the end of the Soph Lang case. There were 1oos¢ ends, of course, such as Willlam, and the mald, and the jettisoned quarter of : million dollars. The undertings provea to be very faithful tools of the lad who took their medicine, maintainin= 1o the end their ignorance of such . purely legendary person as apht Lang. Changing Life's Schedule. inued from Second Page.) (Con ing_about the time they got stewcd in New Haven. Suppose the Mrs. had to listen ta that story onece a wk. for 2l cen- turys. 1 het they would come a ever- ing dureing the last couple 100 yr when she would forget her manner < and doze off with her mouth open Not only thut but in the averago family wo will say that the husband and wife cats thelr supper away fro home times per annum Jeaves 320 days when the Mrs. h to plan for supper at home. the present «pan of 4 life she has got 1o pers. Lven that num pretty big after a w | the duration war lengthened 1o 275 or a total of 96,250 suppers. At last few 1000 suppers 1t would in pretty near impossible to serve some kind of a salad that they bad never eat before. As far as a man s concerned w. can figure that a man with ordinary self respeets begins sha ' they are 18 S day from then on. he shaves somewhere times and every time his whiskers gets tougher. If he & {¥rs. that means 102.9. | he must shave nimsel be surprised if durin |shaves some of the larger whiske: would half to bo d out like stwmp. Further and more take a man thi is 55 yrs. old w « {about”the age w 2 yoof | People i it old, well i | the ready money he can Jay hold of 1o | provide "himself with nourishmen: enough to last the rest of the 70 yr now on the schedule. Where and 1l | he—ll is he going to dig up money for 5 vrs. supply of vermouth, Or take for inst. a chorus gal and the way it is now she can get a jol up to the time she is about F that leaves her 38 yrs. to live on wh she may of saved out of menger s ary. Well if it gets to be 268.yrs. 1 stead of 35 yre. why I am afraid th won't be no danger of her gbrgein. herself at her last few meals. * ¥ * x THE same problems comes up every walk of life and applys t men and women of 1l sexes. The wa we are liveing now we are lucky 1o {get by with 70 yrs. but if you add ¥rs. to the span they will half to b- changes in our scheme of life and it looks now is the time 1. Th 11 haif ade in the laws in gards to the legul aze which peoyl - is allowed to do certain things b cause if we w to t nd live 2o yrs. under the 70 vr. code why th- last would be so much ali that everybody would gap themselve death. in the 1st. place I suggest that and gals both be kept on a n. 50 and then wear them and put them in rompers. Gal should ought to have their comei 5 got Oy ) times whi d I wouldr:'t he ! out party when they are 75 and b ‘What put it into your head |fore that make them wear their har and skirts down. A bov could get hi= ist. long pants when he was 70 vote when he was 76. On his 15 birthday he would be ecligible f | president of the U. S. | * A boy and gal under 76 and 68 resn. would half to get their parents con- sent to get married. In the case of another war the age for the Ist draft | would be between 69 and 150 The would half to be a ehild labor la preventing empl of b gals und yre. old and_kiddies der 60 would be kept off the sta All persons of both sexes under £ ¥rs. of age must be in their home 1 M. A person that worked for one firm would be entitle pens It would be vs. the | for a_boy under The last named | effect at Ardsley on the Hudson. |~ That is some of the change | will half to come in force to m ife bearable when it lasts 300 v and then of course they’s other things | that won’t half to be changed by law but will adjust themself when th: time comes. | Like for inst. a few vrs. from now | when you walk along the et. and you happen to see a limousine elidding along with Mr. Rockefeller setting i1 the back seat you won't say to your companion there goes old John You will probably exclaim what pretty baby. RING W. LARDN 1s. Great Neck, Queen Nesting Places. . | N © bird selects stranger places for & “Y lome than the house wren, i flighty, Mdgety, fussy little midget of a bird that carols all day and would fight a turkey buzzard or any other thing that fi The biological sur- vey of the Department of Agricultura says: “Probably mno bird displais greater eccentricity in the selection of a nesting place than the house wren A hollow branch or a knothole in : post or stump is his more prosai ‘hoice. When more esthetically in- clined he affects old boots and hats hung up to scare robins from the cherries, or takes an old copper pot or tomato can lying on the roof of i back shed; or if the gardener hangs his coat on the fence when warm weather begins and forgets it for « few days he may find when he re- turns that an enterprising wren hus pre-empted one sf his pockets and has_his domestic affairs under fuil headway. The empty skull of a horsa i or cow when set up on a post by the frolicsome schoolboy makes an ex- cellent nesting place for the wre: who I8 never troubled by the ghos of the former occupant. Whatev place”he chooses, his ambition is to occupy the whole of it. This he ac- complishes by carrying sticks, straws and other rubbish until all availabls space is filled, only just room enougit being left for the mother bird and her eggs. _ Colors That Protect. 1\ ANY curfous facts abecut the ef- fects of particular colors and markings of birds, insects and other creatures in concealing them from their enemies have been collectod by naturalists, and the theory of “pro« tective mimicry” has been pusied far in some cares. An interesting observation bearing on this. subject is recorded by.an of- ficer of the Carnegie Inmstitution. About 300 chicks of various colors and patterns wera allowed 'to run at large in a pasture. In less tham two hours crows had killed twenty-four. The officer inspected the slaughtered chicks and found that they ineluded 10 whites, 13 blacks, 1 coarsely mot- tled gray and buff, but not a single chick with “penciled” markings mora or less like those of ordinary jungle« fowl or game, This, it iS. thought was due to the relative Inconspicu- ousness of the penciled birds and in¢ dicated that the colors arising undet domestication Increased the danger te the othera