New Britain Herald Newspaper, May 24, 1929, Page 19

A P Synopsis: Moved by Lucy's elo- quent ples and Intrigued by the mys- . tery surrounding. Andrew . Ogden’s taurder, Luther MacNair, famoua re- tired defuctive, agrees to inveatigate the case. Lucy insists that her fianoce, Jerry Ogden, did not murder cynical man- ‘cleverness. the convincing, circumstantial case eaginst Jerry. Two words—"gold bullets”—sheated by Andrew Ogden . @ fpw Nours befare his death, two gueer, wnexphained vizitors' in the Letting go of the brassie I flung myself at the fellow. He could use only one arm at first, but he was beyond me in strength shd I don’t believe I ever encountered such ferocity in a human being before. He put into ‘the struggle a fury, a malignancy, a diabolical cunning of which I was incapable. And this, mark you, with his one hand. Now he brought the other into play and I knew that he was going to be too much ‘for me. His fingers were like talons—they seemed to be crack- ing the sinewa of my throat. “His grip tightened. A shadow crept over my brain.” Ogden home'and the golden slugs in the famous revolver once owned by the picturesque gambler, Alex Peter- ®#on, cast new shadows over the grip- ping mystery. John Pecbles, Lucy's uncle, who discovered Ogden’s body, awakens to find a prowler in his den, Cl r 9 THE STRUGGLE IN THE DARK It was an awkward situation, you will admit. The rascal was aftetr my pistols and the revolver I keep for protective purposes was in my desk. My eyes flew around the shadowy hall in search of a weapon. Lucy Bad left her golf clubs by the din- ing-room door. I quietly extracted one of them. Creeping to the door of the den, «J peered inside. The man was softly opening and shutting the drawers of my desk and pouring the light beam down into each in turn. This puzzied me for I had expected to see him rifling the cabinet. But when he came to the left-hand bottom drawer and straightened up with something -in his hand. I almost shouted out the conclusion that poured’ through my mind. “#The - Peterson revolver!” The words “gold bullets” suddenly re- sounded in my brain. “Good God! 1s he-—could he be Andrew's mur- derer?” A faint sound at my feet drew my eyes down, but I felt rather than saw Polyandria at my ankles. Stoop- ing. I reach for her, but she eluded me and made for the partly open door. Her soft body collided with it and the opening widened. A hinge ereaked loudly. The light went out and the night huddled me into its velvet cloak. 1 was in the .room. Silence still. Bteathing deeply, I . raised myself onta:my feef, crouched against the wall, stood upright, waited. The next minute was the most nerve- shattering of my life. Facing a fir- ing squad would be something like this. A nice situation for a man in his 69th year! My eyes. by this were more ac- eustomed to the darkness and 1 saw vagaely against the ebony back- ground a lighter oblong which 1 knew to be the window. The oblong darkened as if & man had passed In front of it. I started incautiously forward and stumbled over a rug, betraying my positiss. Quickly re. covering myself, 1 sensed a leveled pistol In the man’s hand. Leaping forward, 1 brought the brassic over my shoulder in a sweeping arc. 1 struck blindly but landed a vicious blow on his should- er. Evidently the blow numbed his arm for the pistol dropped, unex- G Boded, Breathing became agony, my en- durance was leaving me, my head felt as if it were splitting asunder. Just then Polyandria got between our feet. We stumbled over her and crashed to the floor. The man grunted as if Polyandria’s claws had got home. He kept his grip on my throat, but I lost mine on his Moreover, he maneuvered my body and his in such a way that I fell on my- face and he came down astride of me. I tried unavailingly to fling him off. Cri¢s for help rose in my throat, but I could not veoice them; his grip tightened beyond endurance, a shadow crept over my brain. And then the pressure on my Under the gold bullet—a message out of the past. | throat suddenly ceased and the man was no longer astride my body. The French window. crashed to and then, to my astonishment, T heard Luther MacNair's harsh voice: “Stop, there! Hands ‘up!" BSome gne laughed. And then: “Back 'ye fool, or I'll drill yer! Git instde!” ‘The voice was deep, throaty, com- manding ,and I did not recognize it. A shot rang out. Another. The read- ing lamp flashed on and I saw Lucy and Mrs. Moffit standing over me. At that moment MacNair burst through the French windo: was gone and his face was black with fury and bitter disappointment. Lucy dropped beside me, a cry of grief on her lips. “Get something for MacNair snapped. . Mrs. Moffit tled and MacNair dropped at the other side of me. ‘Did you recognize him?"” T swallowed again whil Lucy caressed my throat. “No,” I whis- pered. “Did you T did not,” he cried savagely. “It was pitch dark in the shrub- bery. . 1 had been in the Ogden grounds about five minutes when I thought T heard some one over here calling for ‘help. The man jumped through the window as T came up— bumped into me and knocked the torch out of my hand. 1 pretended 1 had a gun—and he put a couple of shots through my h. Lucy shuddered and tears from her swimming eyes wet my cheeks. “What did he look like?”* Mac- Nair demanded impatiently. 1 shut my eyes and tried to as- semble my impressions the man. They were pitifully few. “He fought like a tiger. I don’t think he was stout,” T mumbled. “He may have been fairly tall—but I'm not sure. When he shouted at you—he said ‘ye’ and ‘git.’ His voice struck me as being disguised. Didn't you get any- thing 7" MacNair shook his head. “‘He col- lided with me before I saw him His body was scarcely more than a his throat!” NEW BRITAIN DAILY HERALD, FRIDAY, MAY 24, shadow to me. Jt's damnable!” he fumed, sprihging to his feet. “He may have had something to do with that affair at Ogden's!" “I believe he had." “What! “He was after the Pelerson volver,” “How do you know?" T explained. re- “Good God, what a chance we've | lost! It may have been Ogden's mur- derer, How did he know the re- volver was here? What did he want with it?" T shook my head feebly. “I didn't tell any one I had it. Hyde may have.” And then: “Gold bullets,' per- haps.” MacNair looked at me, his dark 'yes brilliant with expression. *‘Gold bullets, " he echoed. Chapter 10 A DROP OF BLOOD “Where is the revolver? Nair demanded. “I think I am lying on it,” T said. A metallic object was pressing into the small of my back. “Here it is. ‘The rascal had it leveled on me when T hit him with the golf club. He dropped it and used his own gun on you." MacNair looked the pistol over. “Queer, he should have known you had it Mac- I nodded. “It's ‘just another of the many queernesses we have to explain, I'm glad you happened along. You'd better atay for break- fast. It it hadn't been for Lucy"— patting her hand and being kissed in return—"and you and Mrs. Moffit I'd be past caring about breakfasts.” “No, thanks,” he declined. “It's nearly dawn. T want to have a look around the Ogden grounds before Deacon and his men mess things up. That was my object in getting there at this ungodly hour. ‘Evidence evaporates. Get on the job early,’ i one of the maxims of my profession. There's apother I'm fond of. too. ‘Stick to your job until it's finish- ed.’ " He grinned mirthlessly. “There. Peebles! I've taught you how to be a successful detective in two lessons. Write 'em down.” They helped me into a chair. The window, I saw, had been neatly cut with a diamond near the bolt. Mrs. Mofiit appeared properly skirted and carrying water, hot and cold, and a dish of warm olive oil. “I'll do it,"” Lucy offered, when 1 bhad drunk. “Miss Lucy,” my housekeeper whispered, “you are in your nighty.” “Of course 1 am. Uncle John is in his pyjamas.” “Lucy,” 1 interrupted dryly. might get me my dressing gown She gave me a little gay-sad smile and tripped out of the room. Lucy insists Mrs. Moffit is so modest that she bathes herself in the dark. I called Polyandria. She sprang onto my knees and while Mrs. Mof- fit pursued her ministrations I turn- ed her upside down and examined her claws. On the middle claw of the you right front foot I found what 1 was looking for. Mrs. Moflit handed me a lens and I bent it on the claw. When I finally looked up MacNair was watching me ironically, “Well>” he queried. 1 chuckled. “There's a drop of blood on one of Polyandria’s claws. | 8he got between the rascal's legs and mine and scratched him. You had better look for a man with a scratch, | " he said curtly. “Anoth. | er demonstration of my contention that one should get on the job early. A few minutes later you wouldn't | have found it.” He peered through | the lens, “The scratch will be on an exposed part of the man's baly,” he went on, “or his garments would have cleansed the claw as the cat drew it back.” *“An excellent point!” T remarked. “It hadn’t occurred to me, Our task is again simplified; we look for a man with a scratch on an exposed part of his body.” y as simple as that,” Mac- drawled. . “What do you mean?" I exclaimed, struck by his tone. “I mean if we were to find a man with a scrateh on, say, his wrist, i" wouldn’t necessarly follow that he'd | killed Andrew Ogden.” At this, MacNair pulled up his right sleeve and revealed a red welt two inches long on the under side of his wrist. “What do you say to that?" chuckled. “Good Lol did you get it “Coming through the window he " 1 exclaimed. “How Jjust now. You must trim that briar 1920, rose of yours, Peebles.” “Oh” | said in abashed tones. “I'm sorry. I've always been skepti- cal of the value of circumstantial evidence, too." “But you shouldn't be,” he in- formed me’ bluntly. generally dependable. Unfortunately, circum- stantial evidence js subject to hu- man_interpretation. Coingidence is the biggest maggot in the circum- stantial cheese. Make allowances for coincidence and you'll get along nicely with circumstantial evidence. T shall still look for a man with a scratch, Peeples.” MacNair tore a scrap of blotting paper from my desk pad, absorbed the drop of blood and placed the scrap in an envelope, which he pocketed. When 1 had dismissed Mrs. Mof- !fit and Lucy had brought me my dressing-gown, T picked up the gold- mounted revolver. 1 ejected the cartridges into my palm. It was my intention to extract the powder from them, as I am averse to keeping more than one loaded weapon in the house, but MacNair objected. “I wanted a pistol expert to go over the revolver and the cartridges. An expert may he able to give us some hint as to where they came from. Never mind reloading the re- volver.” “How stupid of me!" I cried. T | never thought of getting an expert | to look at them.” A8 T handed him the revolver and the cartridges one of the latter caught my eye and T drew it sharp- ly back. “Hello!” T exclaimed. “This car- tridge has been tampered with.” I dug the bullet out with a jack- knife and looked for the powder There was none. Instead, I saw what was evidently a wad of paper and I poked at it with a pin. It came out réluctantly. “A ‘message, Uncle John!" Lucy cried - ecatatically. S When 1 had got the scrap of pa, per spread out on the desk it look- ed as if Luey was right. It was dirty and brittle and had been tarn off the top edge of a newspaper— @ very old newspaper—and there was' scarcely legible writing in in- delible pencil on it. A date line was partly decipherable and, to my as- tonishment, T made out: TORRIDITY .. Monday, July .. 1896, “Torridity!” T gasped. “Eighteen ninety-six,” muttered. “The writing, Uncle John—read it!"” Lucy whispered. And with the aid of the lens I did so. MacNair ...dene for, Alex. Dillon got me. . .skunk, but I...a bul- let. . .hiim, somewhere. Good-b -..old scout. You did... best for me. I've...a bad devil. “JERRY" “Jerry!" Luecy echoed. (Copyright, 1929, Wm. Morrow Co.) A message out of the past—what does it mean?—a clew in Ogden's murder? Another thrilling cpisode tomorrow. German Gets Bible Lost During Battle Washington, May 24 (P—Jo- hannes Meyer of Dortmund, Ger- and* forgotten. He noted " ¢ er's name ‘was on .the fiy:! sent it to Meyer-in nutw& i Reed effusively. 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