Evening Star Newspaper, September 25, 1936, Page 37

INSTALLMENT XI1V. “A T THE end of the firs* act the drams critic of the Morning Chronicle hastened into the lobby. His review of “Mrs. Hathaway's Predicament” was already Dearly letter perfect. He carried it in his mind. ““As is characteristic of so much modern drama,” ran one paragraph of his bitter tribute, “nobody in this play is concerned with anything at all except love. the Summer hotel and his wife make vague allusion to their ‘season’ and cast-up some accounts, but for the . mmost part they all just twiddle their thumbs and join the chorus about love and passion, although one hints that he is an artist. They just sit about, making opportunities for love- It is conceivable that the play would have fared a little better at his hands f Zelda Lansing had appeared at 8:15. The ticket at the box office had not been called for and Mr. Black- . wood, smoking & reflective cigarette, began to feel & vague alarm steal over him. From time to time he bowed to persons of his acquaintance. It was extraordinary, he thought, how an opening brought everybody out. Three young women who had been present at Janice's party already had spoken to him, each accompanied by a strange young man. Only one of them, however, he really knew, and The proprietor of | who had been present at the murder party young Archie Dunning alone appeared to be in evidence. But Blackv.ood had no doubt that an in- teresting quorum could be assembled. He felt & touch on his shoulder and turned to find Fentress, smiling, at his elbow. “Two pennies for your thoughts, Riley,” said the lawyer. “Or shall I save them for the morning edition?” The drama critic grinned. “It's pretty terrible, isn’t it,” he agreed. He ground out his cigarette beneath his heel and - together the two men turned back into the theater. “No word of Percy, I suppose?” commented the critic. The lawyer shook his head. “And you?” he questioned. “I may have something interesting to tell you after the show,” said Black- wood. “I don’t know. Where are you sitting, Fentress?” “Eleventh row, center. I saw your triumphal entrance.” Blackwood smiled. “A trifie less triumphal than you might imagine,” he retorted. An expression of \surprise crossed Riley’s face. He touched his com- panion’s arm and pointed across the theater. The auditorium was still lighted and strolling easily toward his seat, along the opposite aisle, was the popular wastrel known as Rollie Col- bath, whom Blackwood had last seen at the Chicago Avenue Night Club. He was accompanied by a young “The woman who came to.see me yesterday—Percy’s fiancee!” “The deuce it is!” Fentress looked sgain. “That's curfous, fsm'’t it?” “It's crazy! As crasy as all the rest of it. Now why the devil should she know Rollie Colbath? And what's she doing out with him?” “It certainly won't help her repu- tation,” admitted Fentress, smiling. But no explanation of the coinci- dence occurred to them, and they were forced to give it up. The lights were beginning to dim and the two men hastily resumed their seats. Blackwood's head was spinning with fantastic conjecture. The lights vanished and the cur- tain rose on the second chapter of Mrs. Hathaway's mysterious predica- ment. It seemed to Blackwood sin- gularly dull and spiritless. With new suspicions rioting in his head, he meditated early flight. Then he was aware that some one was trying to step over him in the darkness. He stood up, muttering. Somebody was handing him his hat and gloves, which he had deposited on the vacant seat beside him.- “Sit down, Riley,” whispered the voice of Zelds Lansing. “It's me.” Then they were seated and her lips were close against his ear. “How soon can we get away from here? My dress is torn to rags and I'm s sight. I had to walt till it was dark to come inside. Listen, Riley! Janice Hume is dead. Some- her!” . * % ¥ % E t, Zelda,” : “Let's have it—the, whole story! Who killed her?” “I don't know,” said Zelda Lansing. She drew a long breath and shook her head. “I really don't, Riley! It was s woman—that's all I know.” £k “I didn’t see her at all. The door- bell rang and Janice answered. She opened the door, and almost imme- diately there was a shot. I ran into the entry and—she was dead.” “How do you know it was & woman?” asked Fentress sharply. “I heard her voice—for just o min- ute. When the door was opened she sald, ‘Mrs. Hume? And Janice an- swered, ‘Yes." “The next minute there was a shot and I heard her fall.” Blackwood's glance for an instant sought that of Fentress; in the eyes of both men the same inquiry seemed to be expressed. Then the amateur spoke harshly. “All right, Zelds,” he said again. “Get along with it. Begin now at the beginning.” : “One more question first,” said the lawyer. “Are you sure that Mrs. Hume is dead?” ‘ She nodded. “Quite dead! If you're thinking about a doctor—well, there simply isn't any use.” You should have called the police.” “Nobody. I came directly to the murder, and, therefore, with Percy’s disappearance. But surely you weren't with her all afternoon and most of the evening.” ' ‘what I wanted right away. for a while, and then the subject came up naturally. She mentioned it first.” “In what way?” “She just asked me if there had been any word about Percy. Isaid I didn’t know of any, and then I asked her what she thought about it. “She wasn't there in the afternoon. | she thought it looked bad for Percy. £ i 5 : #gK H 41 HH], Eggg 8 sEEgcEE » and when I am, I'm not take it sitting down.’ e “It rocked her & bit, I think. But en I got foxy again, like an idiot, le:wAn'nlllantlhlluMl (To Be Continued.) 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