The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, May 10, 1903, Page 5

SPECIAL NSISTENTLY for many years Daniel Dittenhoeffer had de- sired the ruin of John F. Greener. Dutch Dan, as the Street called Dittenhoeffer, was 2 burly man with a red nose and & loud voice. Greener was a sallow, swarthy bit of a man, with black hair and a squeaky voice. lie had furtive brown eves and a hign forehead, while Dittenhoeffer had frank blue ves and the pugnacious chin and thick neck of a pri fighter. Both were members of the New York Stock Ex- change. Lut Greener never was seen on the “floor” after one of his victims lifted him bodily by the collar and drop- ped him fifteen feet into a coal cellar or Exchange place. He would plan the wrecks of railroad systems as a measule » their abserption, just as a boaconstrictor crushes its victim into pup the more easily to swallow it. But the practice, unchecked for yeacs, had made him nervous and soul-fidgety Nobody knew exactly how the enmity between Greener and Dittenhoeffer be- Fan. ‘Ihe “Little Napoleon of Raiiroading™” had felt toward Dutch Dan a certain hosthity for interference with sundry stock market dea;s. But Dan hated bly for the same reason that a hawk hates a snake—the in- a0tp of the utterly dissim ores of men had tried to “bust’ reener, but Greener had grown richer by their efforts, the growth of his fortune being proportionate to the contraction of fweirs. Sam Sharpe had come from Arizona with $12,000,000 avowedly to show the effete East how ‘financial skunks of the Greener cla And the financial skunk learned . thougn the privilcge of imagining he was giving one =t Sharpe a haif million a montn for nearly one year. Then, after Sharpe had carned more of the game—and of Greener—he joined hands with Dittenhoeffes und together they atiacked Greener They were skillful stock ope: And they loathed Greener ors, rich and utterly without financial fear. In & more gorgeous age they would have cut the Lit- pleces and pi a ruasted heart on a platter around the In the colorie th century they were fain to content h endeavoring to despoil hun of his teur-stained miilions; to do united their smiie-wreatned millions—some seven or eight of them-— d opened fire Their combined fortune was divided irto ten projectiles, and one after another hurled at the little man with the squeaiy v and the high forehead. The little dodged the first and the second and the third, but the fourth broke his leg e nith knocked the wind out of nini. The Sireet cheered and showed its ce in the ariillerists by going short of rer stocks. Jjust before the sixth shot Green a o his aesistance old Wiibur with the skin-flinty h millions in cash. A prot , man-high, of Government be prostrate , and the financial cannoneers ceasei fir s projectiles. The : fications were impregnable and they knew i contented themse with gathering up thelr own shot and a smell raf'r two dropped by G er in his haste to seck shelter. Then Sharpe went land to win the De tenhoeffer went to Long Branch to playing a no-limit faro hat cost him on an average $1),600 2 night for a month e was a period of peace in Wall street following the last encounter be- n the diminutive Napoleon and i'vich Dan. But after a few months the fig as resumed. Greener was desirous of ** his stocks generally, and Federal Telegraph Company, particulari t to show there was no ne: urry the “bull” or upward ement Dan soid the stock “short” ev Gree tried to advance the price. Four times did Greener try, and four times enhoeffer him a few thousand shares—just enough to check the advance int 4 manipulator of stocks is successful. Hls manipulation ngenious and complex actions and devices, but the elemeut- is to buy more than the other fellow can er wisius s willing to buy, out Dan was evén more willing to sell. Greener really was in desperate stra‘ts. He was committed to many important nterprises. To c them out he needed cash and the banks, fearful of stock arket possib| s, were loth to lend him enough. Besides which, there was the desire on the part of the banks' directors to pick up fine bargains should their refusal to lend Greener money force him to throw overboard the gregter load. Greener had despoiled innumerable widows and orphans in his oad-wrecking schemes. The money-lenders should avenge the widows and It was a good deed. There was not a doubt of it in their minds which Greener's commitments were heaviest, had been her quarters of the market, Duich Dan decided ing dayl s of Fed. Tel.” He went ab it calm ethodicelly, ceaselessly. depressingly. And nsuccessful in csher quarters of the street, decided it whack =t as he played roulette e wilted THE MIA7TELY OF BLMAFOKD - By WL - BLACF ~ Greener, THREW up my head to look at the great clock, and some- thing seemed to snap inside it,to flow over juy brain, befcre eves rendering me faint, sick and giddy. 1 recied Like n man: then the sensation passed off. I looked r d the great rtation at the passengers, port e ples «f baggage, stupidly wondering if 1 bad tainted. Evidently 1 i:ad not. A few bystanders were rezaiding me rather su picisusly, Lut no one was support me, no crewd sur- me, and 1 was firmiv on my feet. Then the ques- ticn occurred 1o me—what was I doing 4 1ne Grand Cen tral Station at half past 11 o'clock in the mo:ning and how came I there? It was wholly bewildering. I could think of no answer to the main or the contingent question. I had no recollection of any purpose in being in the sta- tion—of having arrived there. I dimly remembered leaving my home at 10 tha® morning for my office in Wall street. But my home was In Brooklyn, and conse- quently the Grand Central was right out of my way. Then—what was I doing with a dress suit case in my hand? 1 began to feel elarmed; my mind was a perfect blank as to my doings that day up to the moment of finding myself In the station. The fact—. At all events [ was an hour overdue at the office, where I might pick up & clew as to how I came to the Grand Central. I hurried down to the office. Fisher. my managing clerk, was seated in my room, handling a pile of unopened letters. “‘Morning, Mr. 1lis,” he said, with a look which struck me as being rather strange. I was thinking of wiring to you at Boston. ““Wiring—Boston?" 1 repeated. “Yes, sir. Didn't you go ther Then it struck me that I was due at Boston to complete an important pur- chase of land for a client. “Confound It!"” I muttered. “I'm due there at 3, ain't 117" Fisher looked at me suspiclously. “You were due at Mr. Audrey’s at 3 yesterday week, Mr. blandly. “What! Fisher, you must be dreaming. This s the 15th, isn't it?” “Twenty-sixth of June,” he returned. “Then—then, where is the name of goodness have I been?” I cried, sinking into a chair. “That’s more than I can say, sir,” he said grimly. “I only know jt's a week yesterday since you left this office to go to Boston, and all these letters have come In the meantime. Mr. Audrey has twice wired to know why you haven't been, and Mrs. Wallis called here yesierday and inquired about you, explaining :ihc_ had had no letter, and understood you were to have returned last Wednes- ay “Fisher!” I gasped, “this mpréhensible. A half an hour ago I found myself in n without the least notion ;\'h-‘(l! was doing there, or how I got there, and with my dress suit case in my You took the dress suit case on Tuesday—yesterday week—when you left for Boston.” 1 snatched up the case and opened it. The linen, which bad been fresh from the laundry when I packed it, had all been worn. 1 had evidently been away somewhere for a week. Where? 1 was totally unable to explain; my mind was blank as to the previous wee! “I'll go home,” I faitered. “You must go to Boston for me. Telephone to Audrey for an appointment. and keep {t. The matter mustn't drop.” Out in the street, bewildered by the extraordinary mystery of the week missing from my life, I decided to take a cab home. 1 wanted to be aione. I had not, however, driven far before 1 regretted the loneliness; the horrible fear that I st be going out of my mind so worked upon my nerves that 1 kept wonder- gly repeating, “Am I mad at this moment, doing anything mad?’ It seemed me that a great many more people stared into my gab than are usually at- tracted by the sight of a respectably dressed commonplace business man. 1 stopped the cab, and bought an early edition of an evening paper—the first of- cd me—to keep my mind as free from horrible thoughts,as possible until I 1ld have the comfort and counsel of my dear wife. ysterious Crime at Eimsford—Doctor Murdered in His Surgery,” T read ings of the columns. “Elmsford,” I said aloud. “The name seems fa- Elmsford.” I recollected 1t; 1 had passed through it once or twice. *'A strange crime has been committed here (telegraphs our Elmsford correspondent) which is likely to cause a great sensation. Dr. . Halstead was found murdered in his surgery early this morning, having been fatally beaten about the head with some heavy insirument. Dr. fiaistcad was a well-known practitioner in these parts, highly respecied, and very popular, forty-three years of age and a widower. The police definitely what was the motive for the terrible crime; but robbery is suspected, for a diamond and sapphire ring of considerable value, Dr. Halstead always wore, was missing from his finger, and up to this moment bas not been found. The theory is that the crime was committed yes- evening between 9 and 10, the murderer obtaining entrance to the sur- tient by ringing the surgery beil, to which Dr. Halsiead would have as the domestics had retired for the night. The theory is supported by the fact that the surgery door was found open this morning, when Dr. Hal- stead’s body was found. Telegraphing later our correspondent says the police have obtained a clew which they think will lead to the identification of the mur- dercr. The diamond and sapphire ring has not been found.” “Halstead—Dr. Halstead!” 1 muitered, seeming to know the name. H stead!” 11 seemed 1o awaken something in my mind; to remind me of a low, dark house, approached by a short, broad walk, at the end of waich glowed a red lamwp “‘Dr. Halstead!” The cab drew ) at a wrong house, in a wrong streel. Puiting the cabman right drove the Elmsford crime out of my mind, and brought Wallis,” he said are unabie to s THE SUNDAY CALL. PAGE LEFEVRE was time to do something to save himself. He needed only $5,000,000. At a pinch 33,000,000 might do; or, for the moment, even $2,500,000. But he must have the money at once. Delay meant danger and danger meant Dittenhoeffer, and Ditten- hoeffer might mean death. Of a sudden, rising from nowhere, fathered by no one, the rumer whiried about the street that Greener was In difficulties. Finaneial ghouls ran to the banks and interviewed the presidents. They asked no questions in order to get no lies. They simply said as though they knew “Greener is on his uppers.” T bank presidents smiled indulgently, almost pityingly. *“Oh, you've just heard it, have you? We've known it for six weeks.” Back to the Stock Exchange rushed the ghouls to sell the Greener stocks— “Would You Accept an Order From Me?f” not Federal Telegraph, which was really a good property, but his reorganized roads, whose renascence was so recent that they had not grown into full strength. Down went prices and up went the whisper, ‘“Dittenhoeffer's got Greener at last! A thousand brokers rushed to find their dear friend Dan to congratulate him— Napoleon’s conqueror, the hero of the hour, the future dispenser of liberal com- missions. But dear Dan could not be found. He was not on the “floor” of the Exchange nof*at his office.” Some one had sought Dittenhoeffer hefore the brokers thought of congratu- lating him—seme one who was the greatest gambler of all, greater even than Dutch Dan—a little man with furtive brown cyes and a squeaky voice, also a wonderful forehead—Mr. John F. Greene: back ansther mystery in which I was more interested. Would Kitty, my wife, be able to throw any light into the darkness of my memory? The cab stopped at my door, and I discharged it. “Where have you been?’ Kitty asked, as she threw her arms round my neck and tiptoed to kiss mie. “I was ge ting so anxious about you. and that stupid Mr. Fisher made me more so by saving you had not kept your appointment.” I sed her gent'y into a chalr and to'd her all T knew. She listened Intently her face grew pa'er and paler while I spoke. Deares’. you mu-t see a doctor; it's sericus. You're out of health,” she said, ntly hardly knowinz what to say “Then you cen suggest no ciew,” 1 s'id hoarsely. “Do you think you met with an acc dent? No, I fcel perfectly well physical ¥, and so far as I know, I haven't a scrateh upon me.” “Grand Central,” she said thoughtfuly. “You must have got there from somewhere—must have arrived from somewhere and been going—perhaps you had already taken your ticket. Feel {: your pockets.” I did so. In a walstcoat pocket I f und the return ha!f of a ticket between the Grand Ceniral and Elmsford. That half entitled me to ride from the former to msford. 1 stared at it in horrible surprise. I may have picked it up.” 1 said faintly. Kit got a time table and looked up the trains between the two stations ‘A train left Elmsford this morning at !9:06," she said, “due at the Grand al at 1 s0 that If it were a few minutes late it would have put you a n there time to look up at the cluck and see its hands at half-past 1i. Tom, vou must have been at Elmsford, 1 haven't a doubt. It is there you must h for the truth.” it is a horrible thing to feel one’'s heen t ning here and there and doing a hundred things without knowing it,” I sald. “I'll go t0 Eimsford this after- noon.” 1 drew my left glove off and starel out of the window, not daring to ask my wife for all the sympathy T wanted in my plight, lest she should undei- stand too well what a very grave matter it was. 1 turncd as she snatched up my left hand. “Where did you get that? It's love y!” 1 looked down and saw on my third finger a diamond and sapphire ring. ““Wkhere did you get it?"” The most terribie sen: n I have ever felt passed over me as T stood star- ing at the ring. I kept my feet by leaning against the edge of the tahle. A cold sweat broke oui ail over me, and my heart scarcely beat. I took the ring from my finger and siipped it into my walstcoat pocket. “I'll explain about i1t some other time,” I =aid, and I shambled out of the room. Locked In my little den, I stood and asked myself what I could do with that condemning trifle—the ring. Was it condemning—diamond and sapphire rings are not uncommon? No, not in itself; but, takenin conjunction with the .cturn half to Kimsford, it was a clew, surely a clew, to the mystery of Dr. .-Halsiead's death. The thought was sickening, overwheiming. What could I do with the ring? 1 could destroy the gold, but not the gems. By attempting to do so [ might betray myself. So small 2 thing may be a man's undoing. Hide it? Yee, hide it. Hide it where? I settled it in cotton wool in the knob of my den door. No one would look for it there. “Tom!” It was my wife at the door. “Yes?" She sighed, as if relleved, before she said: “I was nervous because of the way you left me. Are you all right? 1 tried to brace myself and let her in. “I'm unnerved, Kit,” I replied. it seemed I could not raise my eyes to hers. “The discovery that my memory nad dropped a whole week, as if it had never been, has shaken m “Of course,” she sald caressingly. ‘‘Are you going to Elmsford?” “I cannot go to-day—I—I must attend the office. There is a hill of letters on my desk.” “To-morrow? I am anxio “Yes, I will go to-morrow. The morrow came, the next day and the next, and yet I did not go to E.ms- ford. I dared not; no, I dared not! 1 feared to seek the truth, though at times [ felt T would give worlds to know. The hoirible suspicion that my brain was di cased rapidly fell away from me. I had as strong a grasp as ever on my bu ness. There was nothing unusuzl in my conduct, manners or sayings; it was just as if that missing week had never been. And yet, oh, heaven, not quite, not by a world of fear! Again and again she asked me when T intended going to Elmsford. Again and again I invented some hollow excuse, and every time I felt her doubts of me deepen in her heart and the spade of fate dig deeply into the grave between us. One day it occured to me how 1 could at least satisfy myself whether the dia- mond and sapphire ring was indeed Dr. Haistead’s. I packed it up, and, disguising my writing, addresscd it to the police at Elmsford. I went to New York and posted the little packet in a street letter box, taking care no one percelved me. 1 searched the papers diligently next day, but saw no mention of the ring be- ing received. That evening my wife pressed me to consult a doctor as to my mental condition, enumerating half a dozen undeniable reasons why I should do #0, and I consented to visit Professor Evart Willlams the following day, be- cause I saw my wife's concern about me was affecting her health, which was very uncertain at that time. Poor Kit! how little she knew what an agony it wi to me to know that she would soon have a baby nestling on her breast! The child might be a murderer’'s child— branded for life. My visit to Professor Evart Williams was satisfactory in a sense, but did not comfort me. He allowed me to understand that a week or two back—preb- ably on the 18th of June, I imagined—I received a blow on the head, which had had the uncommon effect of suspending my memory for a time. I must have -~ - ZHE 2O OFPFPORTUNT . BY BDWIN - “Mr. Dittenhoeffer, T sent for you to ask you a question,” b squeaked calmly. He stood beside a garrulous ticker. “Certainly, Mr. Greener.” And Dittenhoeffer instantly had a vision of hum- ble requests to “let up.” And he almost formulated the words of a withering Jould you execute an order from me?” Certainly, Mr. Greener. I'll exccute anybody's orders. I'm a broker.” Very well. Sell 50,000 shares of Federal Telegraph Company for me.” “What price?’ jottirg down the figures from force of habit, his mind being paralyzed. “The best you can get. The stock™—glancing at the tape—‘is 31" ‘“Very well.” The two men looked at one another—Dutch Dan half menacingly. ealmly, steadily, his furtive eyes almost truthful. “Good morning,” sald Dittenhoeffer at length, and the little man's high- browed head nodded dismissingly. Dittenhoeffer hastened back to the exchange. At the entrance he met his partner, Smith—the Co.” of D. Dittenhoeffer & Co. “Bill, I've just got an order from Greener to sell 50,000 shares of Federal Tel- egraph. ‘Wh—what?” gasped Smith. “Greener sent for me, asked me whether I'd accept an order from him. I eald yes, and he told me to sell 50,000 shares of Telegraph, and I'm—" fou've got him, Dan; you've got him,” exultantly. “I'm going to cover my 20,000 sharcs With the first half of the order and sell the rest the best I can.” “Man alive, this is your chance! Don't you see you've got him? Smilie of the KEastern National Bank tells me there fsn't a bank in the city will lend Greener money, and he needs it badiy to pay the last $10,000,000 to the Indian Pacific bondholders. He's bit oft more than he can chew, damn 'im!" Well, Bill, we'll treat Mr. Greener as we do any other customer,” said Dit- tenhoeffer. “But,” began Smith with undisguised consternation; he was an honest man when away from the street. ‘Oh, 1'll get him yet. This won't save him. “I'll get him yet,” with a con- fident smile. It would have been very easy for him to take advantage of Greener's order to make a fortune. He was short 20,000 shares which he had put out at an aver- age price of 9. He could have taken Greener's block of 50,000 shares and hurled 1t bodily at the market. Not even a gilt-edge stock could withstand the impact of such a fearful blow, and the price of Federal Telegraph doubtless would have broken 15 points or more, and he could easily have taken In his shorts at 7, or v even at 70, which would have meant a profit of a half miliion of dol- a loss of a much-needed million to his arch foe, Greener. And If he allowed his partner to whisper in strict confidence to some friend how Dan was selling out a big line of Telegraph for Grezner the “Room™ would have gone wild and everybody would have hastened te sell, and the decline would have gone o much further as to cripple the little Napoleon possibly beyond all hope of re- covery. Had Greener made the most colossal mistake of his life in giving the order to his enemy?’ Dan went to the Federal Telegraph Dost, where a score of madmen wera shouting at the top of their voices the prices they were willing to pay or to accept for varying amounts of the stock. He gave to twenty brokers orders to sell 1000 shares each at the best obtainable price, and he himself, through another man, took an equal amount. On the next day ke in person sold 20,000 shares, and on the third day the last 10,000 shares of Greener's order. This selling, the Street thought, was for his own account. It was all short stock: that is, his colleagues thought he was selling stock he didn't own, trusting later on to buy it back cheaply. Such selling never has the depressing effect of “long”” stock, because it is obvious that the short seller must sooner or later buy the stock in, insur- ing a future demand, which should exert a lifting influence on prices; for He who sells whaat lsn't his'n Must buy it back or go to pris'n. And Dittenhoeffer was able to get an average of $36 per share for Greener’'s 50.000 shares of Federal Telegraph Company stock, for the Street agreed, with many headshakings, that Dan was becoming too reckless and Greener was a pery little cuss, and the short interest must be simply enormous and the danger of a bad queeze'’ exceedingly great. Wherefore they forbore to “whack™ Telegraph. Indeed, many shrewd traders saw in the seeming weakness of the stock a trap of the wily little Napolecn and they ‘‘focled” him by astutely buy- ing Federal Telegraph. With the $4,300,000 which he received from the sale of the big block of stock Greener overcame his other toubles and called out all his plans. It was a daring stroke to trust to a stockbroker's professional honor. It made him the owner of a great railroad system. Dutch Dan's attacks later did absolutely no harm. Greener had made an opportunity and Dittenhoeffer had lost one. Greener suffered from severe headaches. he sald, owing to improper coursing of the blood about the brain. He suggested that the strange sensation which passed over me when I stood in the Grand Central on June 26 was caused by the blood sud- denly gaining ingress to the usual channels, which would perhaps account for return of my memory to the state in which it was prior to the moment I re- d the blow. It was 2 o'clock whea I stumbled up the stairs to my room. ‘Telegram just arrived for you,” sald Fisher, who passed me on the landing. “A Mr. Gibson came in this morning and will call again later.” I pushed into my room dreamily and snatching up the telegram opened ft. It was from home. The murderer's son was born. Even in the terrible eircum- stances which surrounc:d me I could not but feel a touch of pride, of joy, at the news, but it only made my terror the more terrible. I broke down. With my face buried in my arms upon the desk before me I wept—wept like a woman. “‘Some one to see you,” a junior clerk announced. 1 wandered out of my thoughts, and heard him. ‘“Where's Fisher?” I sald, hoping to evade the client. “Gone out, sir.” ““Then show the person in." I glanced up and met the dark, keen eyes of a tall, respectably dressed man. “Take a seat,” I said, pushing a chair toward him. “Thank you,” he replied, accepting the invitation. “I'm Detective Squire, of Pinkerton's.” It seemed as if some one had laid an icy hand on my heart. “I've come about the matter of Dr. Halstead's death—Halstead, of Elmsford,” he continued, taking stuck of my room. *“It seems you visited the doctor on the evening of the 25th.” I thought I saw through him: he had come to arrest me, but wished befors executing his warrant to lead me to incriminate myseif. “So far as I know I never met Dr. Halstead, or was nearer his house than Elmsford Station,” 1 said unemotionally. He looked at me intently for a moment, and then sald: “I have reliable information that between 9 and 10 in the evening of June the 25th you cailed at Dr. Halstead's surgery as a patient, and that you left Elmsford on the following morning for New York by the ten-six. You are Mr. Wallis, who stayed with Mr. Milne of Elmsford from the 18th to the 26th.” “I am not acquainted with anybedy named Mr. Miine of Elmsford and have no friends at all at Elmsford,” I replied. “Come, come, sir! JLet me prove to vou that you visited Dr. Halstead that evening. The doctor kept a diary, in which he used to write brief accoun.s of the cases of more than common interest which came under his notice. IHere is a copy of an entry he made on the evening of the 18th: ‘Mr. Wallls of Brook- lyn, whom Milne mentioned to me this morning, visited me a little past 9, com- plained of total loss of memory and severe pains in his head. I found evidence that he had suffered an injury to his head and that his nerves were rather un- strung. This case interested me, but, not caring to accept the responsibility of it, I advised him to see a specialist without delay." " *“My name is Wallls,” I said, when he finished reading from his notes, “but how do you conmect me with Dr. Halstead's patient?"” “I can’t see why you should object to assisting me in my investigations,” he replied, “especially as I've been to a deal of trouble to trace you. But you were Dr. Halstead's patient. I believe I know more about your doings than you do. Look, here, sir! At 11 a. m. on the 1Sth you were crossing Broadway, when you were knocked down by a hansom containing Mr. Milne. He dismissed the cab and took you into a hotel. You were shaken and dazed, but seemed perfectly rational otherwise. You couldn’t remember anything about yourself You remained with Mr. Miine at the hotel, when you agreed to go and stay at his house until such time as the volice Were ablé to restore you to friends. You stayed st Elmsferd until the morning of the 26th. The thing you recalled in the time was that your name was Wallis. the 2th Mr. Milne, who had done his best to find your friend: without success, mentioned your case to Dr. Halstead, and late the same even- ing persuaded you to consult a doctor. You went, and on your return said he had advised you to see a specialist at once. You left Elmsford the next morn- ing by the ten six. Mr. Milne would have 2ccompanied you but he was preven by the gout. You promised to return to his house in the evening, but you didn't. By visiting brain speclalists in New York I traced you this morning teo Fro- fessor Evart Willlams’, who gave me the information that led me here. Do you still deny your visit to Dr. Halstead on the night of the murder?” al my blood had be:n running colder and colder through my One hope 1 saw for myself. the hope of a defense of insanity to the charge of murder. I' steeled myself to reach this crisis “Do you suspect me of complicity in the crime?’ I asked in a volce that I hardly knew as my own. “That's it, eh?’ he said, smiling for the first time. “Hardly. At the time Dr. Halstead was writing of your visit in his diary you had returned tu M Milne's. You did not leave the house again until next morning. Oh, n No, suspicion rests on you, sir. [ came here simpiy to ask you if you couid assist us with any evidence against the person we've arrested, and why yocu sent Dr. Halstead's ring to us by post from New York instead of giving It to the doctor, as you'd been asked to di “The ring—the ring?’ I repeated. My mind was clogged by the madness of rellef his words caused me. ‘“The diamond and sapphire ring. Dr. Halstead left it at Mr. Milne's in the afternoon—took it off when he bathed Mr. Milne's gouty foot, and forgot to put it on again. Mr. Milne asked you to return it to the doctor when you called.” ““Who killed the doctor, then?” I cried, fearing my triumph. ‘A dismissed gardener, who had tramped from Jersey City for the expr purpose. He must have been hiding in the bushes when you came away. Can you remember—' “‘Come ta-morrow,” I sald, snatching up my bat, “and you'll have all tha help that I can give vou. I can’t stop now. My wife is waiting me at home-a new born boy to show me. A boy! My son! Neither a madman's nor a mur- derer’s offspring. Kit's boy, my boy, our son!”