New Britain Herald Newspaper, June 7, 1929, Page 22

Bynepeis: The “woman in black” ~Mrs, Joe Lundy—the mysterious visiter whom Andrew Ogden gave 81,000 a few days before he was slain, s found. Mrs. Mofiit, the housekesper, introduces her to Peebles as a priestess of Cosmic In- duigence. Peebles ' questions Mrs. Lundy, learns her husband, once the owner of a saloon in Torridity, was shet 30 years ago and has been feeble.minded ever since. The $1,000 check is explained as a gift to her faith. Asked whether she ever knew or heard of Alex Peterson, Mra. Lundy shouts, “Alex Peterson shot | my husband!" Chapter 31 “TEN-TO-ONE” PETERSON “What!" I shouted, springing to my feet. “Alex Peterson—shot your husband! Nonsense! He was the beat friend I ever had!” “He shot my husband, T tell you!" Mrs. Lundy's bitter emphasis of the words struck me in the face like the blew of a fist and I fell back into my chair. Bome influence powerful enough to re-mold Andrew’s per- sonality, had come into his life. What right had I to deny the word of one whose tragic life witnessed to its truth? “Do you know why Alex Peterson shot your husband, Mrs. Lundy?" “I don't,” shé replied, in the same bitter tone. “If Joe deserved it, T didn't. Alex Peterson left him for dead. Joe responded to medical treatment and he was brought back to. me several weeks later. I have had him—ever since. Thirty years.” The tragedy in her face wrung my heart. “Did you see Alex Peterson when gently. “Yes, T saw him, Several times." “Can you tell me anything about | him as he was then?” She nodded sowly. member him. He wasn't a man one forgot easily. He was tall, supple as wire, and flat hipped. His face had something of the eagle in it—that lean, reckless, fighting 100k, you know. He always wore an ‘expensive Stetson trimmed with a silver buckle, a white silk shirt, fine riding boots with silver spurs, and two revolvers mounted with gold. The revolvers were loaded with gold bullets, I suppose those decorations would have been ridiculous en any ‘one else; but somehow they seemed to fit him.” Mrs. Lundy fell silent and I re- spected her mood. What an extra- ordinarily vivid personality Andrew’s must have been. What tragic event —for it must have been tragic—had transformed him into the Andrew Ogden I had known? “‘Do you happen to know ho came to be called ‘Ten-to One’ Mrs. Lundy nodded. “Yes. I heard & good deal about him while I was down there. He made his fortune gambling in mining properties. He Wa&s an inveterate gambler—no chance was too great—an he'd risk every doliar he poasessed. When he came %9 Torridity—in1se2, ¥ thisk it wag—he hadn't §10 in money to his neme, but he was dressed just 43 I have described him. Stetson hat with silver buckle, white silk shirt, those fantastic gold-mounted revolvers, and that ecartridge belt stuffed with gold bullets . . . And not $19 to his name. Can you see the man, Mr. Peebles?” “Yes, yes,” I muttered tensely, “His young brother, Jerry, came with him—" “Jerry!” I cried. “His brother! Yes. go on.” 8o it was his brother! “He swaggered into my husband's resort. Men were drinking at the bar and watching two scorpions fighting in & coffee can. Scorpions. Mr. Peebles! And they were betting on the result! Peterson treated the audience of this elevating spectacle te my husband’s vile liquor; then he bet on the result of the fight. Bet his last dollar, Mr. Peebles—at ten te one. He bet on the smaller scorpion and it won. After that he “Yes, 1 re- he WAas never known as anything else but Ten-to-One Peterson.” “He must have made money rapidly,” I put in suggestively. Mrs. Lundy gave me her strange eyes again. ‘‘Prosperity comes in floods sometimes—I am’ told.” The bitter droop to her mouth touched me. “Peterson staked out several | claims and sold one of them well. After that, he plunged recklessiy 2gain and again—and he nearly al. | ways won. His fortune and his reputation pyramided together. He becamé famous—or infamous—from one end of Bkull Valley to the other. But the Two Brothers mine— he gave it that name himselt—was his most reckiessly extravagant venture. He put everything he had inte it. Everything, Mr. Peebles! The town had begun to bet on his gambles and it waited breathlessly for Peterson to vindicate his judg- ment. It needn't have. He won. Nothing could stop him. The Two Brothers paid handsomely. It paid after the other big mines had closed down. Tt paid until the town was abandoned two years later. “Peterson became one of the fwo wealthiest men in Torridity. The other was my husband. Joe Lundy. Joe was a gambler. also. but he gambled in human frailty. How 1 despised him. Tt s dreadful to have 10 care for & man you despise, Mr Peehles! But T have got over that now."” Her eyes clomed as if she trying to shut something out. were “I must tell you about my hnn.‘ band.” Mrs. Lundy went on, a lit- tle wearlly. “In his way he was as striking then as Peterson, though | ¥you couldn’t have imagined a more dissimilar pair. Joe was large and bulky, and taller than Peterson. hut he was 20 stoop shouldered that he | actually seemed shorter. His head was always thrust forward like a Iantern hung on a beam: his face was long and irregular and wax- colored. He had bristling black cye- brows that gave him a Satanic ex. pression he was very proud of. His eves were deep sunken and near- sighted. and he wore a pair of old- fashioned glasses with steel frames and cight-sided lensea—'" “Eight-sided lenses:" 1 ejaculated and my hand went fumbling to the ' fairly | DB lens in my pocket. Mrs. Lundy nodded, but there was a distant look in her strange eyes and I don’t think she had noticed my astonishment. “His soul was as shapeless as his face,” she went on in an empty voice. “But he is different now. Only the shell is left.” eyes seemed to look straight through me. 1 was glad of the pause for it gave me time to digest the morsel of information she had unconsciously given me. The thought that Furie's ‘“eyepiece” | might have some connection with Andrew’s death came into my mind from I know not where. That eight- sided lens had belonged to Lundy— those marked cards—Andrew had shot Lundy. There must be some ]cnnnerlion, I couldn’t get rid of the | thought. Chapter 32 WHAT ABOUT “JERRY"? Joe and Peterson ruled Torridity.” Mrs. Lundy went on, “much as po- litical bosses rule our cities. Joe hated Peterson because of his suc- cess and his good looks. Joe wanted to ruin Peterson and 1 suppose that shooting came out of his hatred. The town was too small for both of them, and Joe would be a danger- ous enemy. . . . . Is there anything else, Mr. Peebles”" Her question disconcerted me. It implied that she had little more to actually she had told me uothing that illuminated the problem of Andrew’s death. “I was only there a week,” she went on, reading my thought: nd thankful to get away. I always re- call that week with loathing. After my return to JLos Angeles I heard nothing from my husband.” “But when he was brought back you surely heard what had happen- ed?" T exploded. “About the ahoot- ing, I mean. It's dreadfully import- | ant. Mrs. Lundy.” She shook her head sorrawfully. “Joe came to me on a stretcher, I have had him ever since. All T know is that he was shot—by Alex | Peterson.” “Who brought him to you?" “Torridity was abandoned about that time and Joe was taken to Peskella by his men. One of the men telegraphed me from Peskella that Joe was there—that he had | been shot by Peterson, and that a doctor who had been working as a miner had attended him. I had Joe brought to my home and T have | since heard nothing from any one l'h" lived in Torridity at that time. And I don’t want to!"” I meditated a moment. “You | mentioned Alex Peterson's brother, Jerry,” I said hopefully. n you tell me anything about him “Very little, I only saw him once. He had his brother's lean face and arrogant eyes, but I heard that he was wild and undisciplined. I shouldn’t bs surprised if the boy came to a bad end.” resd 3 I could not answer for 1 was thinking of what Deacon and I had stumbled over in the Two Brothers mine. “Didn’t the size of that cheek Ogden gave you surprise you?" “Yes, it did,” she said frankly. *T | had been soliciting subscriptions along the avenue and I met Mr, Og- jden at the gate. He didn’t seem in- terested until T happened to men- tion my name. Then he looked at me sharply and asked me if my husband’s name had been ‘Joe. I said it was—that he was still alive. He looked at me hard, then he in- vited me into the library. His first question was the one you asked me. Was I the wife of Joe Lundy who kept a resort in Torridity 30 years ago? The question angered me, but he promised me $100 for the cause it Iwould answer it. 80 T told him what he wanted to know.” “How did he take it?" | “He seemed dumbfounded. And when I told him that my husband had not died in Torridity and that he was still alive, his face crimson- {ed and he began to pace up and down the room, muttering to him- | | self. Then he sat down and wrote | me that check for $1,000. You may imagine my surprise. He asked me for my address and showed me !OU' e “Where is your husband now?" I “Mrs. Lundy, have vou ever heard of a poker game played for & man's life?” She frowned. “Yes, T have. My { husband has talked about such a game in delirium several times.” “Has it ever occurred to you that the shooting of your husband and that poker game he talked of in de. lirium were connected ?"* “Ye he admitted. “Tt has oc- curred to me. But I don't know. And I don’t care—now.” “Mrs. Lundy, | nize Andrew Ogden? | “Recognize him! I never saw him before.” Her face hecame theught- ful. “No. T am not sure, now you speak of it. There was something | familiar about him. His face, his voice. his manner—I don't know which.” “You haven't guessed | save you that check?" | Her nostrils quivered a little, | her face was calm. why he but lv, gripping tensely the edge of my desk, “because—30 years ago—he | was Alex Peterson.” She stared at me, becoming ash- en of face. “So that was it!" she cried, “A thousand dollars to pay for 30 vears of misery! The best of my life given to looking hulk while Alex Peterson grew |rich! Well. T am glad he is dead! 1 wish my hand had driven that dag- ger into his neck!" But as T stared at the woman, | #hocked hy her venomous words [ which. in the intensity of their bit- terness. 1 had never heard cqualed on human lips. her face was slowly transformed. “No,” she said, in a rapt voice, tell. T was bitterly disappointd, for | you did not recog- “He gave it to you.” T said siow- | after a broken | LLETS litting up her spiritualized face, “I didn't meap that. I should thank him, for through him I came to the Truth.” And as I marveled at the trans- forming power of these mystic be- liefs she dropped her eyes to mine. “You self-complacent people with your traditional creeds think our Mra. Lundy fell silent again. Her: raith absurd. You call us neurotics. You say that we are afraid of reality. that we are trying to escape from life. We are. And can you blame us. when reality has made life unbearable? My faith has an- chored me to sanity.” She stood up. “Is there anything else?” “Only this,” 1 muttered, subdued of spirit. “Go down to police head- quarters and tell thim what you have told me. If you don't, the first policeman you meet will take you up.” T let her out through the front door and gave her the lilies Mrs. Moffit had left on the porch. When she had gone I stood in the hot sun- light thinking over what she had told me. Andrew, in his Alex Peter- son days, had shot the resort-keep- er, Joe Lundy. Was this why Dil- lon had blackmailed him? If it were—and surely it was—no wonder Andrew had given the woman a __ NEW | BRITA!N DA!L‘I check for $1,000! The irony of being blackmailed 25 years for a crime one hadn't committed staggered me. Poor Andrew! Had he become blind with fury and reverting to his for- mer reckless character, attacked Dillon and been killed by the man? Perhaps. But why had he shot Lundy? And what about the man, “Jerry? On the threshold of my den I stopped with a shout of joy. Jerry —dressed in khaki—and Lucy were stgnding at the French window, hahd in hand! And Deacon was be- hind them. (Copyright, 1929, Wm. Morrow Co.) Jerry and Lucy are back! Jeery makes a startling vevelation in to- morrow’s chapter. CITY GARBAGE COLLECTOR WOULD BUILD INCINERATOR Schmidt Offers Solution of Problem in Return for Five Year Contract. Louis Schmidt, city garbage col- lector, has made a proposal to the board of health, agreeing to build 2nd maintain an incinerator, provid- ed he is given a five years' contract for garbabe collection. The contrac- tors heretofore have been cngaged for one to three years. Difficulty in finding places for dis- pesal of has m’h‘ the health board to recommend several time that an incinerator be built, byt the board of finance and taxa- tion has declined to make the ap- propriation. Schmidt's proposal will be considered at next Tuesday's me,etlnl of the board. 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