Evening Star Newspaper, September 13, 1928, Page 45

THE ‘EVENING « L S S e SR LS S SSS SRR PSS 3 INSTALLMENT I. HE entire assets of Dighton & Co. l office. The telephone rang so suddenly that he started He picked up the receiver “Dighton speaking—yes. He hooked a_pencil from his waist- coat and flourished it over the sur- | @ blind>” | face of a note pad. “Who?—Mason & Gallagher—oh, yes —1 shall be here until 6 or perhaps a trifle after—oh, I see ing here. Frowning to himself. he turned over | a reverie. | the pages of the telephone directory. but no Mason & Gallagher through Kelley's colossal proved similarily unenlightening. masterpiece The firm was nonexistent, a myth—and yet | their Mr. Corlitt was calling upon him | at 5! It remained to be seen whether the mysterious Mr. Corlitt showed up at all outside. On each occasion glanced anxiously toward a of frosted glass which sho & Co., General Agents, about, and in the bottom r corner Mr. Alan Dighton—very later he caught the upward moaning of the elevator, the familiar clanging of the gate and the hoarse voice of the | 8 | ance of a brewer and the vocal powt | of a sergeant-major. shouted from the | stairs and the crowd melted as if by | | magic. ‘The door opened slowly and a marn | in a heavy overcoat entered, closing it | frock-coated submanager in his ear. boy_directing somebody The expected knock came. “Come in!" called Dighton from his chair. after him. Dighton watched him take a fools- general agents, faced Alan Digh- ton as he opened the door of his | Who is it?” | in a smoke screen of his own making. He'll be com- | you want me to start?” He Masons—cozens of them— | su A search | Dona Between a quarter to 5 and the hour | oo three people passed along the corridor | 514" Dighton | O eboe | through the swinging doors, with the he wrong way | rumble of Oxford street behind him ight-hand | 8nd his progre: small, | by the white-s The clock outside chimed 5. A minute | b2nquet, that Donati’'s was about the | Tan | almost. “And women!” echoed the younger | man. “They go better than chocolates | these days!” He chuckled audibly. The sheer ex- citement of the thing was going to his | head like strong wine. | | He could have embraced that littie | man, who smoked so placidly, bathed “Then Mascn & Gallagher was just | Corlitt smiled | | “Shall we call it a wise precaution?” “Call it what you like. When will |* The other started as if roused from | Start? Ch, immediately. Sir Ian ed you ovld dine with him at tonight 7. Ask in the hall | for Mr. Gallagher. | Dighton helped him on with his coat. At the door tk shock hands “Good luck!" said Corlitt. “It was | queer you should have written to Sir at that moraent-—providential, We were at our wit's end for man—somebody who wasn't | Good afternoon, Mr. Dighton.” And the visitor was gone. { It occurred to Dighton, as he passed | to the elevator blocked irted guests to a lodge | last place on earth where one would xpect to enlist for a secret service job. A loud-voiced man, with the appear “Reigate party, sir?” insinuated a " corrected Dighton. | Gallagher, g eap envelope from an inner pocket | consulting an infallible memory. “Y Tt dawned on him suddenly that she was offering him a smoke. suspecting a trap, he refused. AN AR S SRR A AR BLUE MURDER By Edmund Snell. Thrilling Story of a Young Secret Service Man’s Battle With Crime and Rescue of Girl in Peril. A O S R R S AR R AR AR S R S S Remembering Corlitt’s hint in time and vaguely night, my boy. It's a pity, because yowll be rushed in the morning. Youll find, however, that there’s | method in my madness. I ought to apologize for sending Corlitt, but | dare say you understand. A priceless lass up to a point, though invaluable | to me in many ways. Have a cigar.” They left Donati's together and made their way to the Marble Arch on foot. “You've had some bad luck, I hear.” ‘sald Taverner as they turned into Park lane. “Pretty bai “How long'll it take you to close down | your business?” Dighton smiled. “About an hour, I should imagine. Virtually it's closed now. I've enough to meet my bills.” ‘The other came to a sudden halt. “Good!"” he commented. “My flat's | just here, overlooking the park. A de- | lightful situation, but deuced expensive! ! Just my niece and myself, you know. Delightful girl, what, Dighton?” “Charming!” murmured Dighton ab- sently, and followed Taverner in. Two flights of imposing staircase brought them to a white-painted door. Taverner was in the act of inserting a key in the lock when it swung open and the scared face of a manservant confronted them. “I'm glad you've come, sir," he stam- | mered. “We were just.telephoning for the police.” Sir Ian e bt man's. Dighton could not help notic- ing it. ¥ No, my boy,” sald the other, divin- ing his thoughts. “There'll be no ‘over the top and the best of luck’ for me in the next war. Mine'll be a "“3"‘,‘,'5 job. What do you say to a cocktail? His red bace beamed like a lantern. “Here! Waiter! Cocktails!” I “Very good, sir. How man: —thrce?_ Taverner raised his eyebrows at his niece, who shoook her head very em- hatically. P Two, then. Manhattans, eh, Alan?” Dighton agreed. Five minutes later a broad wink over the top of Taverner's glass reassured him. “Greta's got a theater engagement tonight. ‘Madeline’s Misadventure,’ isn't it? A perfectly frivolous thing that wouldn't interest either of us. We'll run along to my place and chat over old times. I did hear murmurs of a night club, but we'll see how we feel.” | Greta looked up from her oysters. “The Cockatoo Club,” she interposed. Do keep him up to it, Mr. Dighton. Reggie Moyser says it's wonderful. Quite the best show in town “I'll do my best.” he promised, fos- tering a_sudden dislike of the said Reggie Moyser because she mentioned his name so glibly. Becoming oddly jealous, for no possible reason what- ever, he more than suspected that the delightful patron,of the Cockatoo Club was behind this theater engagement. lanced at Dightol S — 4 CUARANTEED S 1007 pUAT \ € WO Autocrat Motor Oil is “Pure Pennsylvania” oil—and more! It is 100% Super-Pennsyl- vania motor oil because it is skillfully refined from the cream of Pennsylvania crude —the highest grade petroleum found on this Continent. Nothing is more important than thorough lubrication. AUTOCRAT—THE OIL THAT IS DIFFERENT FROM ALL OTHERS Beware of Substitutes. Bayerson Oil Works Columbia 5228 1! » "}‘he police, Jarrett? Why the po- ce2” The servant pressed a hand to his forehead. “It's Mr. Corlitt, sir. study writing——" Taverner pulled Dighton in and closed the door. “Well——" “The cook said she noticed there was | a funny smell about the place, sir—like | chemicals—but none of us took much notice. About 10 minutes back a let- ter arrived by hand, addressed to you, | sir. T tapped at the study door. Get- | ting no answer, I went in—and—and— there he was, sir!” Taverner uttered an impatient ex- clamation. “How d'you mean? was there!"” “He was dead, sir!” “Dead!" He made a movement as if to move | down the passage, but Jarrett barred | his path. He was in the Of course Corlitt This Is “Show Me" Week STAR. " WASHINGTON: D. €. THURSDAY. SEPTEMBER 13. 1928° 1 “I shouldn't go in there, sir, if I were you,” he insisted. glancing wildly | at Dighton. “He looks horrible, sir; | thrffctly horrible, He's all blue!” And so the adventure begins. 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Try Super Suds today—end slavery to dishes and washday. At all grocers. Giant package 10¢. BIGGEST box of soap for 10¢ find his table on the first floor. Cloak- room downstairs, sir."” He stepped backward, with arms out- | spread like a signpost—and Dighton descended to the lower regions. | He had come prepared for a confer- | |ence in a private room—a scrt of | second edition of Corlitt’s interview. and withdraw from it a long sheet of lf" He opened it out on his knee, go ding it in such a manner that the other noted what appeared to be a column of printed questions with type- written answers opposite “Languages!” murmured Mr. Corlitt An odd state of mind for a man with- out a brass farthing on the eve of em- | barking upon a forlorn hope! There was nothing particularly ex- | citing about the next half hour. | Taverner was back in Flanders taking | and retaking trenches between the mouthfuls; Greta was eating with one thoughtfully. “French, Italian, Span- ish! A little German! I should im- prove that if I were you. It's alwavs useful!—D. 8. O. M. C. and bar: men- tioned twice in dispatches. Powerful build. Height 5 feet 1115.” Dighton screwed up his face. “What have you got there? report?” He bent over the desk, hoping to obtain a better view of this extraordi- nary document, but the other folded it hastily ard returned it to its en- velope, leaving photographed on Dign- ton's memory Investigator X in red capitals, and. scribbled in pencil across & corner: Corlitt—for report. The handwriting gave him a clue “Sir Ian Taverner asked you to call on me?" An army The imperturbable Corlitt crossed his | legs and folded his hands in front of | tly it was his habit not | 3 | know. “Are you married s “Engaged to be u ir. Dighton, > Tisks—big Tisks ant for and you could be relied head in 1 crisis.” il game for were in You had a undertaking upon to keep your short p Are you sti @dventure, Mr. Dighion The man who had Mess met his visitor's “I—er— 1 think Corlitt drew in a deep breath want vou to understand me. adventure I am suggesting ing to whic led in busi- accustom u will be ~inst people clever than yourself will receive am remuneration. Your success will be reciated by those who are aware of it. There’s no honot and glory about this sest of thing: Mr. ®ighton. If you | ; He shrugged h; Dighton nodde: “T've got you,” He found his cigarette case and held it out to Cerlitt, who shook his head slowly “No, thanks, Mr. Dighton.” “You don’t smoke.” For answer the produced ‘a straight-stemmed briar from his coat shoulders. and_squinted into the blackened bowl. | “The pipe habit’s safest in our line of business,” he declared meaningly “We can then refuse a cigarette with- out_being thought discourteous “I only keep ‘em for visitors,” he re- turned. And women!" suggested Corlitt, fill- up. g, 5 T PN you | | movped By e~ | green, a short necklace of pearls that | o E the tortoise-shell case as it was with- | | own. !'brand on a silver case ornamented with Guided by a headwaiter through = maze of crowded tables, with an orches- | tra pumping out jazz and all the cut- lery in existence being rattled together | at”the same time, he found himself confronting two empty chairs and a singularly attractive girl. = There was obviously a misteke here. | He turned to explain that fact to the | waiter, but his guide had dissolved | into thin-air. . As he hesitated, conscious all the while that people were turning in their chairs to look at him, the lady removed | the cigarette from her lips and smiled at him quite openly. “You're Mr. Dighton, aren’t you?” He ' produced a handkerchief and his forchead. Jove! was right after all!” “I'm Miss Haye—Greta Haye, you | My uncle told me to look out for you and apologize for him. He | may be a little late, but we're not to | wait. Do sit down.” | Dighton complied. | Seen at close quarters, Greta Haye was more than attractive, he discov- ered. She was wonderfully pretty. She | wore a frock of the paiest shade of | Then the fellow Dighton fancied were real, and a ring | with a single emerald worn on a finger | that did not particularly matter. | It dawned on him suddenly that she was offering him a smoke. Remem- bering Corlitt’s hint in time and vaguely suspecting a trap, he refused “No, thanks,” he murmured. cyeing drawn across the table, - “I—er—I'm a confirmed pipe smoker, really. In places of this sort I fall back on my Quite cheap things, you know,| but they don't catch my throat. You don't mind, do you. “Not in the slightest.” She watched him tapping his own | a regimental crest. A ripple of laughter | #scaped her lips. | | “How perfectly ridiculous! Didn’t you notice? They're the same sort!" | “Holy smoke!” ejaculated the adven- turer. “You don't say so!” He had just lit up when a hand fell on his shoulder and he heard Taver- ner’s familiar chuckle. | “Alan, my boy! How are Don’t get up, whatever you do. long is it since—"" “Six years, sir.” “Nonsense! It can't be as much as | that. Let me see. It was at the Trocadero——" “Six years ago,” put in Dighton again, still shaking hands. ‘Taverner sat down. He had grown fatter since their last meeting-—fatter and a good deal older. you? How His boiled shirt bulged like a city alder- @ eye on the clock. She paused on her !mul'(noy between the tables and came | ac “Don't drink too much whisky, efther | of you,” she implored. “I'm just worked up for tonight. 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