Evening Star Newspaper, June 30, 1930, Page 28

Ask No Questions By Beldon Duff Copyright, 1930, by North American Newspaper AMiance. Tne. SYNOPSIS. Annassa West, against the advice of John Diamond, owner of a New York newspaper, and Alva Cropses. managing editor, leases a deserted country place known as Bride's House. in Connecticut Several previous tenants have died the: Another, a bride, stra ter what happens the tenant must ask no_questions. nassa moves in. And finds that a grave in the private burial ground on the property has been newly opened. Otto. & vietim of strange fears. gives motice that he is leaving. He says some one has been riding Dracula. savage stallion. at night. Annsssa finds Ottn in the barn. murdered. And close Beside him is a_coffin. containing a_wed- ding dress and other bridal finery. (Continued From Yesterday's Star.) |fect. “What has John Diamond to do | with me and my affairs?” “A very natural desire to help a neighbor,” said Cropsey, who did not believe one word of what he was say- ing. “The chief telephoned me this morning. Got me out of bed, in fact, to say T was to come right up here and offer you and your woman com- panion the protection of his roof for tonight. or until you could make other arrangements.” “1 do not care to accept the offer,” answered the mistress of Bride's House with some acldity, “nor do I thank him for it. You may tell Mr. Diamond exactly what I have said when next you see him.” The managng editor looked properly distressed. “Why, Miss West; what | has Mr. Diamond done that you should | dislike him so heartily?” | “Since you wish to know,” came the | prompt reply, “I once appealed to the he insulted me—had his servants turn me out of the house. If you please Free Press had had a disiurbing ef- | | owner of the Free Press for help and | Questions’ on the fireplace refers to. we'd be pretty " close to the mystery that hangs over Bride's " “Have you indeed? Now that's very interesting.” Cropsey spectacles. “Handwriting is rather a hobby of mine. And this,” he bent to examine the lettering more closely, an eager light in his short-sighted eyes, | “looks as though it had been done | under the stress of some violent emotion fear, possibly—or rage. The plaster | was wet of course at the time. Other- | wise the edges would be rough and | chipped.” Straightening up again, “Quite a fireplace, isn't it? Almost too large for the room.” The editor of the Free Press would have liked to go on studying those fascinating up strokes and down strokes a little longer; but his hostess was eveing the door suggestively. He made as good an exit as he could, register a solemn if inward vow, as the gale clicked behind him, to return at no very distant date to pusgzle out the meaning of that strange incription. Miss West's next visitor was Seth Toby. He came, towed into the room | by Abby, and sat down on his hat and the nearest chair, all without saying one word. The local chief of police had reacted to the murder much as a sleep walker would have reacted to a bucket of cold water flung in his face. He was dazed. He was speechless. There was no | definite plan in his mind as to how | to begin the present interview. Miss West saved him the trouble by be- ginning it for him. “You found no trace o. the murder- er?” asked the one who was to be questioned. body mmnve put the dirt back.” the grave which had open his | yawned at her so hideously the day be- fore was now a mound of sod, looking for all the world exactly like all other mounds. The heavy rain of the night before had removed every vestige of loose earth. And to make her frantical- ly reiterated statement thit a coffin had been dug up, “it had, it had,” seem | even less credible to the surprised Mr! Toby, & full two inches of water cov- ered everything. The place was awash. On the way back to the house there was little or no comversation, but at the front door Mr. Toby made what, for him, was quite an elouent speech. “If you take my advice, marm,” he said, not unkindly, “you'lll pack your things and go straight back to the city. Z | This ain’t no fit place for a sensitive person to live in. The Runnelses all went kinda crazy, too, before they First Alva 'y and now this Country bumpkin! No one believed she had the courage to stick it out. Miss West went into the house and slammed the door after her.” | (To be continued.) ‘Why, some- | died. 'CHUTE JUMPER LEAPS IN SECOND RECORD TRY |Roscoe Turner, Pilot, Believes White Broke Stevens’ Mark of 24,402 Feet. By the Associated Press. LOS ANGELES, June 30.—Bert ‘White, professional parachute jumper, yesterday made his second assault upon Capt. A, W. Stevens' record leap at There sightly v Beautify the Walls With “Calcimo” is available. ‘s little excuse for un- valls when “CALCIMO” It's ready to go on 24,402 feet altitude at McCook Dayton, Roscoe Turns who meter plloted plane, sald his “went hay wire” at 23,000 in the plane registered zero and froze. his first jump, ago, White was not left the plane. Pield, | and his carburetor began to free: it Ohio, in 1922, - altitude. AR er, feet| a new record likely. The thermometer - If you don’t kill moths, they will cost you money. Flit kills moths, their eggs and larvae. See directions on the can. Be comfortable and safe. Keep your home insect-free. Spray Flit, which is guaranteed (or money back) to be quick-death to flies, mosquitoes, moths, roaches, bed bugs and other house- “Not a trace.” In a discouraged tone, “Not even the weapon.” “It must have been something dreadfully heavy. An ax perhaps.” “Yes, marm. The boy's head was all stove in. Dr. Martin says he was stooping over at the time. Leastways, I;r‘um how it appears the thing caught ek after mixing with cold water, and gives a finish that's at once eco- nomical, sanitary, beautiful. 9Calcimo is made in a variety of tasteful tints. Ask us about this now, we will change the subject. I| have a letter here. I should like to have it mailed—in the city. It's rather an important letter.” From beneath one of the sofa cushions she drew a thick mauve envelope with six stamps and the words. “Special Delivery it. There was a daub of purple sealing wax on the flap. It looked, as she hold insects. Yet its clean-smelling vapor is harmless to humans. Flit kills quicker if you use the special inexpensive Flit Sprayer. Insist on Flit and don’t accept a substitute. Get yours today! v TAVRTH INSTALLMENT, 6§ ™ COURSE.” Alva Cropsey spoke with care and de- liberation. “this is & per- fectlv legitimate excuse for breaking vour lease. No landlord. not even one who writes in mystifying clauses. can expect a tenant to remain bound by letter of the law.! when murder is being committed all about.” | It was Sunday morning. and Miss | West and the managing editor of the | New York Daily Free Press were seated in the living room of Bride's House | discussing the events of the night be- | fore. ' The girl raised her head. If one could judge by heavy lids and dark shadows. at some time in the past few hours she had been crying: but her eyes were dry now. dry and sparklingly bright. “I suppose murder is an ex- cuse for anything.” she said in answer to the remark about breaking the lease, “but I do not propose to take advan- tage of it in the way you suggest.” “What?” The managing editor was at no pains to conceal his dismay “You don't mean to sit there and tell me you're going to stay on after—after what happened to your boy, Otto?” “All the more because of it.” came the crisp reply. “Otto would be alive now if I hadn't persuaded him to stay and help me out. ‘His 'devotion—" her voice broke slightly—"his devotion to my interests was unusual. I would be less than an ingrate to forget it now that he is—now that he can no longer serve me.” “But what good—what possible good can it do for you to remain here, ex- g yourself every minute to a simi- r fate?” “It can do this much good.” she said: T shall find out who did this dreadful thing, and see that the murderer is brought to justice.” Alva Cropsev shook his head. “If the murderer is human the police will | nd to all t af If he isn't—" “Oh, please! The girl lifted an im- patient hand. “Don’t try those silly arguments on me again. I don't be- lieve in ghosts. And neither do you.” “Well,” the visitor smiled apolo- getically, “since you put it that way, I don't suppose 1 do. But I had to use every argument.” Gray eyes, cool now as Winter ice, seemed to ask, “Why did you have to?” But the lips beneath them murmured a conventional “Thank you,” to which was added rather wickedly, “I_do not wish to appear ungrateful. But I'm going to tell you that it has been a trying day and my nerves are a bit “Of course, they are—of course!” Cropsey had taken the hint and was on his feet. “I wouldn't have thought of intruding if Mr. Diamond hadn't made such a point of it.” “Mr. Diamond?” It was plain to see the reference to the owner of the Oblanding Soonic Ve *COLOR ALl LOW FARES trom WASHINGTON had said, important. Cropsey took the missive and weighed it absently on his palm. “It shall be dropped in the first il box I come to,” he assured her. “Anything else I ‘es,” said Miss West, unexpectedly; “I have taken the liberty of telling the person to whom that letter is written that if he wishes any information con- cerning_me he can get it from you at ‘your office. Do you mind?” “‘Not a bit,” he made haste to assure her. “But don’t you think I ought to know the name of this—er—person so that there may be no mistake in case he does call me up.” “You have only to look at the en- velope,” Miss West told him, watching while he took her at her word and did so. Mr. Gately Terhune, The Hare and Hounds Club, —— East 47th Street, New York City. So that affair was still going on! Miss West seemed to read what was passing through his mind. “Mr. Ter- hune and I were at one time engaged to be married,” she said rather hesi- tatingly. “It has since been broken off. In fact, we haven't spoken to |each other for—for weeks, But now that this—this has happened I thought maybe he would be anxious to know that I was—still alive. The papers will be full of it—my name, I suppose, and all sorts of exaggerated rumors. It would be a pity for Mr. Terhune to be anxious about me.” The interview had all but terminated when some chance movement on Miss ‘West’s part drew the managing editor’s eyes to the great open fireplace before which they both stéod. In the blackened plaster under the mantel shelf, he saw three words, dug crudely and deep, as though the implement used had been either a nail or the point of a chisel. ' Ask no questions! “By Jove! the very clause in the lease. What a concidence!” ‘The girl looked at him rather oddly. *Scarcely a coincidence. It's much more likely one was suggested by the other. I've a notion that if we were | to discover exactly what this ‘Ask No!‘There,” A Miss West had not much desire to hear the ‘details of the killing. “I've a theory—I don’t know whether it mighr help you any—that my stable boy had made a discovery of some sort. He was curious as a woman, and from the minute we came here he started snooping about the barns and out- houses, looking to see what the former owner had done with his farming imple- ments and old harness. The fact that the red barn, would seem to indicate that he was on one of his tours of investigation and that it had begun to worry some one. I think my maid told you about the warning which was pinned on Otto’s pillow yesterday morning?” Mr. Toby tapped his breast pocket. “I got it here. Evidence.” “It may have been the coffin,” Miss West pursued. “If Otto found—" “Coffin?” The sheriff sat up. “I :l;’fln'l. hear about no cofin. When was at?” It was Miss West's turn to look be- ‘wildered. I “Why, down in the cellar, right where Otto lay. It rested on two pack- ing cases. You must have seen it, Mr. Toby.” ‘The man ‘shook his head. “I bin down in that cellar 20 times this morn- ing and there wasn't no sign of a coffin except the one we just put the boy in; and that was brought over from the crossing by one of my own—" Miss West cut him short. She had been thinking and thinking rapidly. “WIill you come with me to the family burying ground? I can show you where the coffin I speak of was taken from.” This was no time fo be critical ahout one’s English. The sheriff of Hales Crossing recovered his hat, and followed hostess to the door. Over by the burying ground the wil- lows drooped despondently under their weight of raindrops. A lizard on the stone wall scuttled damply into his hole. ®verything about the place looked sadder and less cared for than ever. 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