1 files changed, 9343 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/old/rspbj10.txt b/old/rspbj10.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fd2e120
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/rspbj10.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,9343 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Raspberry Jam, by Carolyn Wells
+#3 in our series by Carolyn Wells
+
+Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
+copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing
+this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
+
+This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project
+Gutenberg file.  Please do not remove it.  Do not change or edit the
+header without written permission.
+
+Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the
+eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file.  Included is
+important information about your specific rights and restrictions in
+how the file may be used.  You can also find out about how to make a
+donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
+
+
+**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
+
+**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
+
+*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
+
+
+Title: Raspberry Jam
+
+Author: Carolyn Wells
+
+Release Date: March, 2004 [EBook #5335]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on July 2, 2002]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RASPBERRY JAM ***
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Raspberry Jam
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE GREAT HANLON
+
+
+"You may contradict me as flat as a flounder, Eunice, but that
+won't alter the facts.  There is something in telepathy--there is
+something in mind-reading--"
+
+"If you could read my mind, Aunt Abby, you'd drop that subject.
+For if you keep on, I may say what I think, and--"
+
+"Oh, that won't bother me in the least.  I know what you think,
+but your thoughts are so chaotic--so ignorant of the whole
+matter--that they are worthless.  Now, listen to this from the
+paper:  'Hanlon will walk blindfolded--blindfolded, mind you
+--through the streets of Newark, and will find an article hidden
+by a representative of The Free Press.'  Of course, you know,
+Eunice, the newspaper people are on the square--why, there'd be
+no sense to the whole thing otherwise! I saw an exhibition once,
+you were a little girl then; I remember you flew into such a rage
+because you couldn't go.  Well, where was I?  Let me see--oh,
+yes--'Hanlon--'  H'm--h'm--why, my goodness! it's to-morrow!
+How I do want to go!  Do you suppose Sanford would take us?"
+
+"I do not, unless he loses his mind first.  Aunt Abby, you're
+crazy!  What is the thing, anyway?  Some common street show?"
+
+"If you'd listen, Eunice, and pay a little attention, you might
+know what I'm talking about.  But as soon as I say telepathy you
+begin to laugh and make fun of it all!"
+
+"I haven't heard anything yet to make fun of.  What's it all
+about?"
+
+But as she spoke, Eunice Embury was moving about the room, the
+big living-room of their Park Avenue apartment, and in a
+preoccupied way was patting her household gods on their
+shoulders.  A readjustment of the pink carnations in a tall
+glass vase, a turning round of a long-stemmed rose in a silver
+holder, a punch here and there to the pillows of the davenport
+and at last dropping down on her desk chair as a hovering
+butterfly settles on a chosen flower.
+
+A moment more and she was engrossed in some letters, and Aunt
+Abby sighed resignedly, quite hopeless now of interesting her
+niece in her project.
+
+"All the same, I'm going," she remarked, nodding her head at the
+back of the graceful figure sitting at the desk.  "Newark isn't
+so far away; I could go alone--or maybe take Maggie--she'd love
+it--'Start from the Oberon Theatre--at 2 P.M.--'  'Him, I could
+have an early lunch and--'hidden in any part of the city--only
+mentally directed--not a word spoken--'  Just think of that,
+Eunice!  It doesn't seem credible that--oh, my goodness!
+tomorrow is Red Cross day!  Well, I can't help it; such a chance
+as this doesn't happen twice.  I wish I could coax Sanford--"
+
+"You can't," murmured Eunice, without looking up from her
+writing.
+
+"Then I'll go alone!" Aunt Abby spoke with spirit, and her bright
+black eyes snapped with determination as she nodded her white
+head.  "You can't monopolize the willpower of the whole family,
+Eunice Embury!"
+
+"I don't want to!  But I can have a voice in the matters of my
+own house and family yes, and guests!  I can't spare Maggie
+to-morrow.  You well know Sanford won't go on any such wild
+goose chase with you, and I'm sure I won't.  You can't go alone
+--and anyway, the whole thing is bosh and nonsense.  Let me hear
+no more of it!"
+
+Eunice picked up her pen, but she cast a sidelong glance at her
+aunt to see if she accepted the situation.
+
+She did not.  Miss Abby Ames was a lady of decision, and she had
+one hobby, for the pursuit of which she would attempt to overcome
+any obstacle.
+
+"You needn't hear any more of it, Eunice," she said, curtly.  "I
+am not a child to be allowed out or kept at home!  I shall go to
+Newark to-morrow to see this performance, and I shall go alone,
+and--"
+
+"You'll do nothing of the sort!  You'd look nice starting off
+alone on a railroad trip!  Why, I don't believe you've ever been
+to Newark in your life!  Nobody has!  It isn't done!"
+
+Eunice was half whimsical, half angry, but her stormy eyes
+presaged combat and her rising color indicated decided annoyance.
+
+"Done!" cried her aunt.  "Conventions mean nothing to me!  Abby
+Ames makes social laws--she does not obey those made by others!"
+
+"You can't do that in New York, Aunt Abby.  In your old Boston,
+perhaps you had a certain dictatorship, but it won't do here.
+Moreover, I have rights as your hostess, and I forbid you to go
+skylarking about by yourself."
+
+"You amuse me, Eunice!"
+
+"I had no intention of being funny, I assure you."
+
+"While not distinctly humorous, the idea of your forbidding me
+is, well--oh, my gracious, Eunice, listen to this: 'The man
+chosen for Hanlon's "guide" is the Hon. James L. Mortimer--'
+--h'm--'High Street--'  Why, Eunice, I've heard of Mortimer
+--he's--"
+
+"I don't care who he is, Aunt Abby, and I wish you'd drop the
+subject."
+
+"I won't drop it--it's too interesting!  Oh, my!  I wish we could
+go out there in the big car--then we could follow him round--"
+
+"Hush!  Go out to Newark in the car!  Trail round the streets and
+alleys after a fool mountebank!  With a horde of gamins and low,
+horrid men crowding about--"
+
+They won't be allowed to crowd about!"
+
+"And yelling--"
+
+"I admit the yelling--"
+
+"Aunt Abby, you're impossible!"  Eunice rose, and scowled
+irately at her aunt.  Her temper, always quick, was at times
+ungovernable, and was oftenest roused at the suggestion of any
+topic or proceeding that jarred on her taste.  Exclusive to the
+point of absurdity, fastidious in all her ways, Mrs. Embury was,
+so far as possible, in the world but not of it.
+
+Both she and her husband rejoiced in the smallness of their
+friendly circle, and shrank from any unnecessary association with
+hoi polloi.
+
+And Aunt Abby Ames, their not entirely welcome guest, was of a
+different nature, and possessed of another scale of standards.
+Secure in her New England aristocracy, calmly conscious of her
+innate refinement, she permitted herself any lapses from
+conventional laws that recommended themselves to her inclination.
+
+And it cannot be denied that the investigation of her pet
+subject, the satisfaction of her curiosity concerning occult
+matters and her diligent inquiries into the mysteries of the
+supernatural did lead her into places and scenes not at all in
+harmony with Eunice's ideas of propriety.
+
+"Not another word of that rubbish, Auntie; the subject is taboo,"
+and Eunice waved her hand with the air of one who dismisses a
+matter completely.
+
+"Don't you think you can come any of your high and mighty airs on
+me!" retorted the elder lady.  "It doesn't seem so very many
+years ago that I spanked you and shut you in the closet for
+impudence.  The fact that you are now Mrs. Sanford Embury instead
+of little Eunice Ames hasn't changed my attitude toward you!"
+
+"Oh, Auntie, you are too ridiculous!" and Eunice laughed
+outright.  "But the tables are turned, and I am not only Mrs.
+Sanford Embury but your hostess, and, as such, entitled to your
+polite regard for my wishes."
+
+"Tomfoolery talk, my dear; I'll give you all the polite regard
+you are entitled to, but I shall carry out my own wishes, even
+though they run contrary to yours.  And to-morrow I prance out to
+Newark, N.J., your orders to the contrary notwithstanding!"
+
+The aristocratic old head went up and the aristocratic old nose
+sniffed disdainfully, for though Eunice Embury was strong-willed,
+her aunt was equally so, and in a clash of opinions Miss Ames not
+infrequently won out.
+
+Eunice didn't sulk, that was not her nature; she turned back to
+her writing desk with an offended air, but with a smile as of one
+who tolerates the vagaries of an inferior.  This, she knew, would
+irritate her aunt more than further words could do.
+
+And yet, Eunice Embury was neither mean nor spiteful of
+disposition.  She had a furious temper, but she tried hard to
+control it, and when it did break loose, the spasm was but of
+short duration and she was sorry for it afterward.  Her husband
+declared he had tamed her, and that since her marriage, about two
+years ago, his wise, calm influence had curbed her tendency to
+fly into a rage and had made her far more equable and placid of
+disposition.
+
+His methods had been drastic--somewhat like those of Petruchio
+toward Katherine.  When his wife grew angry, Sanford Embury grew
+more so and by harder words and more scathing sarcasms he--as he
+expressed it--took the wind out of her sails and rendered her
+helplessly vanquished.
+
+And yet they were a congenial pair.  Their tastes were similar;
+they liked the same people, the same books, the same plays.
+Eunice approved of Sanford's correct ways and perfect intuitions
+and he admired her beauty and dainty grace.
+
+Neither of them loved Aunt Abby--the sister of Eunice's father
+--but her annual visit was customary and unavoidable.
+
+The city apartment of the Sanfords had no guestroom, and
+therefore the visitor must needs occupy Eunice's charming boudoir
+and dressing-room as a bedroom.  This inconvenienced the Emburys,
+but they put up with it perforce.
+
+Nor would they have so disliked to entertain the old lady had it
+not been for her predilection for occult matters.  Her visit to
+their home coincided with her course of Clairvoyant Sittings and
+her class of Psychic Development.
+
+These took place at houses in undesirable, sometimes unsavory
+localities and only Aunt Abby's immovable determination made it
+possible for her to attend.
+
+A large text-book, "The Voice of the Future," was her inseparable
+companion, and one of her chief, though, as yet, unfulfilled,
+desires was to have a Reading given at the Embury home by the
+Swami Ramananda.
+
+Eunice, by dint of stern disapproval, and Sanford, by his
+good-natured chaffing and ridicule had so far prevented this
+calamity, but both feared that Aunt Abby might yet outwit them
+and have her coveted seance after all.
+
+Outside of this phase of her character, Miss Ames was not an
+undesirable guest.  She had a good sense of humor, a kind and
+generous heart and was both perceptive and responsive in matters
+of household interest.
+
+Owing to the early death of Eunice's mother, Aunt Abby had
+brought up the child, and had done her duty by her as she saw it.
+
+It was after Eunice had married that Miss Ames became interested
+in mystics and with a few of her friends in Boston had formed a
+circle for the pursuance of the cult.
+
+Her life had otherwise been empty, indeed, for the girl had given
+her occupation a-plenty, and that removed, Miss Abby felt a vague
+want of interest.
+
+Eunice Ames had not been easy to manage.  Nor was Miss Abby Ames
+the best one to be her manager.
+
+The girl was headstrong and wilful, yet possessed of such
+winsome, persuasive wiles that she twisted her aunt round her
+finger.
+
+Then, too, her quick temper served as a rod and many times Miss
+Ames indulged the girl against her better judgment lest an
+unpleasant explosion of wrath should occur and shake her nervous
+system to its foundation.  So Eunice grew up, an uncurbed,
+untamed, self-willed and self-reliant girl, making up her
+quarrels as fast as she picked them and winning friends
+everywhere in spite of her sharp tongue.
+
+And so, on this occasion, neither of the combatants held rancor
+more than a few minutes.  Eunice went on writing letters and Miss
+Abby went on reading her paper, until at five o'clock, Ferdinand
+the butler brought in the tea-things.
+
+"Goody!" cried Eunice, jumping up.  "I do want some tea, don't
+you, Aunty?"
+
+"Yes," and Miss Ames crossed the room to sit beside her.  "And
+I've an idea, Eunice; I'll take Ferdinand with me to-morrow!"
+
+The butler, who was also Embury's valet and a general household
+steward, looked up quickly.  He had been in Miss Ames' employ for
+many years before Eunice's marriage, and now, in the Embury's
+city home was the indispensable major-domo of the establishment.
+
+"Yes," went on Aunt Abby, "that will make it all quite
+circumspect and correct.  Ferdinand, tomorrow you accompany me
+to Newark, New Jersey."
+
+"I think not," said Eunice quietly, and dismissing Ferdinand with
+a nod, she began serenely to make the tea.
+
+"Don't be silly, Aunt Abby," she said; "you can't go that way.
+It would be all right to go with Ferdinand, of course, but what
+could you do when you, reached Newark?  Race about on foot,
+following up this clown, or whoever is performing?"
+
+"We could take a taxicab--"
+
+"You might get one and you might not.  Now, you will wait till
+San comes home, and see if he'll let you have the big car."
+
+"Will you go then, Eunice?"
+
+"No; of course not.  I don't go to such fool shows!  There's the
+door!  Sanford's coming."
+
+A step was heard in the hall, a cheery voice spoke to Ferdinand
+as he took his master's coat and hat and then a big man entered
+the living-room.
+
+"Hello, girls," he said, gaily; "how's things?"
+
+He kissed Eunice, shook Aunt Abby's hand and dropped into an easy
+chair.
+
+"Things are whizzing," he said, as he took the cup Eunice poured
+for him.  "I've just come from the Club, and our outlook is
+rosy-posy.  Old Hendricks is going to get, badly left."
+
+"It's all safe for you, then, is it?" and Eunice smiled radiantly
+at her husband.
+
+"Right as rain!  The prize-fights did it!  They upset old
+Hendrick's apple-cart and spilled his beans.  Lots of them object
+to the fights because of the expense--fighters are a high-priced
+bunch--but I'm down on them because I think it bad form--"
+
+"I should say so!" put in Eunice, emphatically.
+
+"Bad form for an Athletic Club of gentlemen to have brutal
+exhibitions for their entertainment."
+
+"And what about the Motion-Picture Theatre?"
+
+"The same there!  Frightful expense,--and also rotten taste!
+No, the Metropolitan Athletic Club can't stoop to such
+entertainments.  If it were a worth-while little playhouse, now,
+and if they had a high class of performances, that would be
+another story.  Hey, Aunt Abby?  What do you think?"
+
+"I don't know, Sanford, you know I'm ignorant on such matters.
+But I want to ask you something.  Have you read the paper
+to-day?"
+
+"Why, yes, being a normal American citizen, I did run through the
+Battle-Ax of Freedom.  Why?"
+
+"Did you read about Hanlon--the great Hanlon?"
+
+"Musician, statesman or criminal?  I can't seem to place a really
+great Hanlon.  By the way, Eunice, if Hendricks blows in, ask him
+to stay to dinner, will you?  I want to talk to him, but I don't
+want to seem unduly anxious for his company."
+
+"Very well," and Eunice smiled; "if I can persuade him, I will."
+
+"If you can!" exclaimed Miss Abby, her sarcasm entirely unveiled.
+"Alvord Hendricks would walk the plank if you invited him to do
+so!"
+
+"Who wouldn't?" laughed Embury.  "I have the same confidence in
+my wife's powers of persuasion that you seem to have, Aunt Abby;
+and though I may impose on her, I do want her to use them upon me
+deadly r-rival!"
+
+"You mean rival in your club election," returned Miss Ames, "but
+he is also your rival in another way."
+
+"Don't speak so cryptically, Aunt, dear.  We all know of his
+infatuation for Eunice, but he's only one of many.  Think you he
+is more dangerous than, say, friend Elliott?"
+
+"Mason Elliott?  Oh, of course, he has been an admirer of Eunice
+since they made mud-pies together."
+
+"That's two, then," Embury laughed lightly.  "And Jim Craft is
+three and Halliwell James is four and Guy Little--"
+
+"Oh, don't include him, I beg of you!" cried Eunice; "he flats
+when he sings!"
+
+"Well, I could round up a round dozen, who would willingly cast
+sheeps' eyes at my wife, but--well, they don't!"
+
+"They'd better not," laughed Eunice, and Embury added, "Not if I
+see them first!"
+
+"Isn't it funny," said Aunt Abby, reminiscently, "that Eunice did
+choose you out of that Cambridge bunch."
+
+"I chose her," corrected Embury, "and don't take that wrong!  I
+mean that I swooped down and carried her off under their very
+noses!  Didn't I, Firebrand?"
+
+"The only way you could get me," agreed Eunice, saucily.
+
+"Oh, I don't know!" and Embury smiled.  "You weren't so
+desperately opposed."
+
+"No; but she was undecided," said Aunt Abby; "why, for weeks
+before your engagement was announced, Eunice couldn't make up her
+mind for certain.  There was Mason Elliott and Al Hendricks, both
+as determined as you were."
+
+"I know it, Aunt.  Good Lord, I guess I knew those boys all my
+life, and I knew all their love affairs as well as they knew all
+mine."
+
+"You had others, then?" and Eunice opened her brown eyes in mock
+amazement.
+
+"Rather!  How could I know you were the dearest girl in the world
+if I had no one to compare you with?"
+
+"Well, then I had a right to have other beaux."
+
+"Of course you did!  I never objected.  But now, you're my wife,
+and though all the men in Christendom may admire you, you are not
+to give one of them a glance that belongs to me."
+
+"No, sir; I won't," and Eunice's long lashes dropped on her
+cheeks as she assumed an absurdly overdone meekness.
+
+"I was surprised, though," pursued Aunt Abby, still reminiscent,
+"when Eunice married you, Sanford.  Mr. Mason is so much more
+intellectual and Mr. Hendricks so much better looking."
+
+"Thank you, lady!" and Embury bowed gravely.  "But you see, I
+have that--er--indescribable charm--that nobody can resist."
+
+"You have, you rascal!" and Miss Ames beamed on him.  "And I
+think this a favorable moment to ask a favor of your Royal
+Highness."
+
+"Out with it.  I'll grant it, to the half of my kingdom, but
+don't dip into the other half."
+
+"Well, it's a simple little favor, after all.  I want to go out
+to Newark to-morrow in the big car--"
+
+"Newark, New Jersey?"
+
+"Is there any other?"
+
+"Yep; Ohio."
+
+"Well, the New Jersey one will do me, this time.  Oh, Sanford, do
+let me go!  A man is going to will another man--blindfolded, you
+know--to find a thingumbob that he hid--nobody knows where--and
+he can't see a thing, and he doesn't know anybody and the guide
+man is Mr. Mortimer--don't you remember, his mother used to live
+in Cambridge?  she was an Emmins--well, anyway, it's the most
+marvelous exhibition of thought transference, or mind-reading,
+that has ever been shown--and I must go.  Do let me?--please,
+Sanford!"
+
+"My Lord, Aunt Abby, you've got me all mixed up!  I remember the
+Mortimer boy, but what's he doing blindfolded?"
+
+"No; it's the Hanlon man who's blindfolded, and I can go with
+Ferdinand--and--"
+
+"Go with Ferdinand!  Is it a servants' ball--or what?"
+
+"No, no; oh, if you'd only listen, Sanford!"
+
+"Well, I will, in a minute, Aunt Abby.  But wait till I tell
+Eunice something.  You see, dear, if Hendricks does show up, I
+can pump him judiciously and find out where the Meredith brothers
+stand.  Then--"
+
+"All right, San, I'll see that he stays.  Now do settle Aunt Abby
+on this crazy scheme of hers.  She doesn't want to go to Newark
+at all--"
+
+"I do, I do!" cried the old lady.
+
+"Between you and me, Eunice, I believe she does want to go," and
+Embury chuckled.  "Where's the paper, Aunt?  Let me see what it's
+all about."
+
+"'A Fair Test,'" he read aloud.  "'Positive evidence for or
+against the theory of thought transference.  The mysterious
+Hanlon to perform a seeming miracle.  Sponsored by the Editor of
+the Newark Free Press, assisted by the prominent citizen, James
+L. Mortimer, done in broad daylight in the sight of crowds of
+people, tomorrow's performance will be a revelation to doubters
+or a triumph indeed for those who believe in telepathy.' H'm
+--h'm--but what's he going to do?"
+
+"Read on, read on, Sanford," cried Aunt Abby, excitedly.
+
+"'Starting from the Oberon Theatre at two o'clock, Hanlon will
+undertake to find a penknife, previously hidden in a distant part
+of the city, its whereabouts known only to the Editor of the Free
+Press and to Mr. Mortimer.  Hanlon is to be blindfolded by a
+committee of citizens and is to be followed, not preceded by Mr.
+Mortimer, who is to will Hanlon in the right direction, and to
+"guide" him merely by mental will-power.  There is to be no word
+spoken between these two men, no personal contact, and no
+possibility of a confederate or trickery of any sort.
+
+"' Mr. Mortimer is not a psychic; indeed, he is not a student of
+the occult or even a believer in telepathy, but he has promised
+to obey the conditions laid down for him.  These are merely and
+only that he is to follow Hanlon, keeping a few steps behind him,
+and mentally will the blindfolded man to go in the right
+direction to find the hidden knife."'
+
+"Isn't it wonderful, Sanford," breathed Miss Abby, her eyes
+shining with the delight of the mystery.
+
+"Poppycock!" and Embury smiled at her as a gullible child.  "You
+don't mean to say, aunt, that you believe there is no trickery
+about this!"
+
+"But how can there be?  You know, Sanford, it's easy enough to
+say 'poppycock' and 'fiddle-dee-dee!' and 'gammon' and
+'spinach!'  But just tell me how it's done--how it can be done by
+trickery?  Suggest a means however complicated or difficult--"
+
+"Oh, of course, I can't.  I'm no charlatan or prestidigitateur!
+But you know as well as I do, that the thing is a trick--"
+
+"I don't!  And anyway, that isn't the point.  I want to go to see
+it.  I'm not asking your opinion of the performance, I'm asking
+you to let me go.  May I?"
+
+"No, indeed!  Why, Aunt Abby, it will be a terrible crowd--a
+horde of ragamuffins and ruffians.  You'd be torn to pieces--"
+
+"But I want to, Sanford," and the old lady was on the verge of
+tears.  "I want to see Hanlon--"
+
+"Hanlon!  Who wants to see Hanlon?"
+
+The expected Hendricks came into the room, and shaking hands as
+he talked, he repeated his question: "Who wants to see Hanlon?
+Because I do, and I'll take any one here who is interested."
+
+"Oh, you angel man!" exclaimed Aunt Abby, her face beaming.  "I
+want to go!  Will you really take me, Alvord?"
+
+"Sure I will!  Anybody else?  You want to see it, Eunice?"
+
+"Why, I didn't, but as Sanford just read it, it sounded
+interesting.  How would we go?"
+
+"I'll run you out in my touring car.  It won't take more'n the
+afternoon, and it'll be a jolly picnic.  Go along, San?"
+
+"No, not on your life!  When did you go foolish, Alvord?"
+
+"Oh, I always had a notion toward that sort of thing.  I want to
+see how he does it.  Don't think I fall for the telepathy gag,
+but I want to see where the little joker is,--and then, too, I'm
+glad to please the ladies."
+
+"I'll go," said Eunice; "that is, if you'll stay and dine now
+--and we can talk it over and plan the trip."
+
+"With all the pleasure in life," returned Hendricks.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+A TRIP TO NEWARK
+
+
+Perhaps no factor is more indicative of the type of a home life
+than its breakfast atmosphere.  For, in America, it is only a
+small proportion, even among the wealthy who 'breakfast in their
+rooms.'  And a knowledge of the appointments and customs of the
+breakfast are often data enough to stamp the status of the
+household.
+
+In the Embury home, breakfast was a pleasant send-off for the
+day.  Both Sanford and Eunice were of the sort who wake up
+wide-awake, and their appearance in the dining-room was always an
+occasion of merry banter and a leisurely enjoyment of the meal.
+Aunt Abby, too, was at her best in the morning, and breakfast was
+served sufficiently early to do away with any need for hurry on
+Sanford's part.
+
+The morning paper, save for its headlines, was not a component
+part of the routine, and it was an exceptionally interesting
+topic that caused it to be unfolded.
+
+This morning, however, Miss Ames reached the dining-room before
+the others and eagerly scanned the pages for some further notes
+of the affair in Newark.
+
+But with the total depravity of inanimate things and with the
+invariable disappointingness of a newspaper, the columns offered
+no other information than a mere announcement of the coming
+event.
+
+"Hunting for details of your wild-goose chase?" asked Embury, as
+he paused on the way to his own chair to lean over Aunt Abby's
+shoulder.
+
+"Yes, and there's almost nothing!  Why do you take this paper?"
+
+"You'll see it all to-day, so why do you want to read about it?"
+laughed a gay voice, and Eunice came in, all fluttering chiffon
+and ribbon ends.
+
+She took the chair Ferdinand placed for her, and picked up a
+spoon as the attentive man set grapefruit at her plate.
+The waitress was allowed to serve the others, but Ferdinand
+reserved to himself the privilege of waiting on his beloved
+mistress.
+
+"Still of a mind to go?" she said, smiling at her aunt.
+
+"More than ever!  It's a perfectly heavenly day, and we'll have a
+good ride, if nothing more."
+
+"Good ride!" chaffed Embury.  "Don't you fool yourself, Aunt
+Abby!  The ride from this burg to Newark, N.J., is just about the
+most Godforsaken bit of scenery you ever passed through!"
+
+"I don't mind that.  Al Hendricks is good company, and, any way,
+I'd go through fire and water to see that Hanlon show.  Eunice,
+can't you and Mr. Hendricks pick me up?  I want to go to my
+Psychic Class this morning, and there's no use coming way back
+here again."
+
+"Yes, certainly; we're going about noon, you know, and have lunch
+in Newark."
+
+"In Newark!" and Embury looked his amazement.
+
+"Yes; Alvord said so last night.  He says that new hotel there is
+quite all right.  We'll only have time for a bite, anyway."
+
+"Well, bite where you like.  By the way, my Tiger girl, you
+didn't get that information from our friend last evening."
+
+"No, San, I couldn't, without making it too pointed.  I thought I
+could bring it in more casually to-day--say, at luncheon."
+
+"Yes; that's good.  But find out, Eunice, just where the
+Merediths stand.  They may swing the whole vote."
+
+"What vote?" asked Aunt Abby, who was interested in everything.
+
+"Our club, Auntie," and Embury explained.  "You know Hendricks is
+president--has been for years--and we're trying to oust him in
+favor of yours truly."
+
+"You, Sanford!  Do you mean you want to put him out and put
+yourself in his place?"
+
+"Exactly that, my lady."
+
+"But-how queer!  Does he know it?"
+
+"Rather!  Yes--even on calm second thought, I should say
+Hendricks knows it!"
+
+"But I shouldn't think you two would be friends in such
+circumstances."
+
+"That's the beauty of it, ma'am; we're bosom friends, as you
+know; and yet, we're fighting for that presidency like two cats
+of Kilkenny."
+
+"The New York Athletic Club, is it?"
+
+"Oh, no, ma'am!  Not so, but far otherwise.  The Metropolitan
+Athletic Club if you please."
+
+"Yes, I know--I'd forgotten the name."
+
+"Don't mix up the two--they're deadly rivals."
+
+"Why do you want to be president, Sanford?"
+
+"That's a long tale, but in a nutshell, purely and solely for the
+good of the club."
+
+"And that's the truth," declared Eunice.  "Sanford is getting
+himself disliked in some quarters, influential ones, too, and
+he's making life-long enemies--not Alvord, but others--and it is
+all because he has the real interests of the club at heart.
+Al Hendricks is running it into--into a mud-puddle!  Isn't he,
+San?"
+
+"Well, yes, though I shouldn't have thought of using that word.
+But, he is bringing its gray hairs in sorrow to the grave--or
+will, if he remains in office, instead of turning it over to a
+well-balanced man of good judgment and unerring taste--say, like
+one Sanford Embury."
+
+"You certainly are not afflicted with false pride, Sanford," and
+Aunt Abby bit into her crisp toast with a decided snap.
+
+"Why, thank you," and Embury smiled as he purposely
+misinterpreted her words.  "I quite agree, Aunt, that my pride is
+by no means false.  It is a just and righteous pride in my own
+merits, both natural and acquired."
+
+He winked at Eunice across the table, and she smiled back
+appreciatively.  Aunt Abby gave him what was meant to be a
+scathing glance, but which turned to a nod of admiration.
+
+"That's so, Sanford," she admitted.  "Al Hendricks is a nice man,
+but he falls down on some things.  Hasn't he been a good
+president?"
+
+"Until lately, Aunt Abby.  Now, he's all mixed up with a crowd of
+intractables--sporty chaps, who want a lot of innovations that
+the more conservative element won't stand for."
+
+"Why, they want prize-fights and a movie theatre-right in the
+club!" informed Eunice.  "And it means too much expense, besides
+being a horrid, low-down--"
+
+"There, there, Tiger," and Sanford shook his head at her.  "Let
+us say those things are unpalatable to a lot of us old fogies--"
+
+"Stop!  I won't have you call yourself old--or fogyish, either!
+You're the farthest possible removed from that!  Why, you're no
+older than Al Hendricks."
+
+"You were all children together," said Aunt Abby, as if
+imparting a bit of new information; "you three, and Mason
+Elliott.  Why, when you were ten or eleven, Eunice, those three
+boys were eternally camping out in the front yard, waiting for
+you to get your hair curled and go out to play.  And later, they
+all hung around to take you to parties, and then, later still
+--not so much later, either--they all wanted to marry you."
+
+"Why, Auntie, you're telling the 'whole story of my life and
+what's my real name!'--Sanford knows all this, and knows that he
+cut out the other two--though I'm not saying they wanted to marry
+me."
+
+"It goes without saying," and her husband gave her a gallant bow.
+"But, great heavens, Eunice, if you'd married those other two--I
+mean one of 'em--either one--you'd have been decidedly out of
+your element.  Hendricks, though a bully chap, is a man of
+impossible tastes, and Elliott is a prig--pure and simple!  I,
+you see, strike a happy medium.  And, speaking of such things,
+are your mediums always happy, Aunt Abby?"
+
+"How you do rattle on, Sanford!  A true medium is so absorbed in
+her endeavors, so wrapped up in her work, she is, of course,
+happy--I suppose.  I never thought about it."
+
+"Well, don't go out of your way to find out.  It isn't of vital
+importance that I should know.  May I be excused, Madam Wife?
+I'm called to the busy marts--and all that sort of thing."
+Embury rose from the table, a big, tall man, graceful in his
+every motion, as only a trained athlete can be.  Devoted to
+athletics, he kept himself in the pink of condition physically,
+and this was no small aid to his vigorous mentality and splendid
+business acumen.
+
+"Wait a minute, San," and for the first time that morning there
+was a note of timidity in Eunice's soft voice.  "Please give me a
+little money, won't you?"
+
+"Money, you grasping young person!  What do you want it for?"
+
+"Why--I'm going to Newark, you know--"
+
+"Going to Newark!  Yes, but you're going in Hendricks' car--that
+doesn't require a ticket, does it?"
+
+"No--but I--I might want to give the chauffeur something when I
+get out--"
+
+"Nonsense!  Not Hendricks' chauffeur.  That's all right when
+you're with formal friends or Comparative strangers--but it would
+be ridiculous to tip Hendricks' Gus!"
+
+Embury swung into the light topcoat held by the faithful
+Ferdinand.
+
+"But, dear," and Eunice rose, and stood by her husband, "I do
+want a little money," she fingered nervously the breakfast
+napkin she was still holding.
+
+"What for?" was the repeated inquiry.
+
+"Oh, you see--I might want to do a little shopping in Newark."
+
+"Shop in Newark!  That's a good one!  Why, girlie, you never want
+to shop outside of little old New York, and you know it.  Shop in
+Newark!"
+
+Embury laughed at the very idea.
+
+"But--I might see something in a window that's just what I want."
+
+"Then make a note of it, and buy it in New York.  You have an
+account at all the desirable shops here, and I never kick at the
+bills, do I, now?"
+
+"No; but a woman does want a little cash with her--"
+
+"Oh, that, of course!  I quite subscribe to that.  But I gave you
+a couple of dollars yesterday."
+
+"Yes, but I gave one to a Red Cross collector, and the other I
+had to pay out for a C.O.D. charge."
+
+"Why buy things C.O.D. when you have accounts everywhere?"
+
+"Oh, this was something I saw advertised in the evening paper--"
+
+"And you bought it because it was cheap!  Oh, you women!  Now,
+Eunice, that's just a case in point.  I want my wife to have
+everything she wants--everything in reason, but there's no sense
+in throwing money away.  Now, kiss me, sweetheart, for I'm due at
+a directors' meeting in two shakes--or thereabouts."
+
+Embury snapped the fastening of his second glove, and, hat in
+hand, held out his arms to his wife.
+
+She made one more appeal.
+
+"You're quite right, San, maybe I didn't need that C.O.D. thing.
+But I do want a little chickenfeed in my purse when I go out
+to-day.  Maybe they'll take up a collection."
+
+"A silver offering for the Old Ladies' Home,--eh?  Well, tell
+'em to come to me and I'll sign their subscription paper!  Now,
+good-by, Dolly Gray!  I'm off!"
+
+With a hearty kiss on Eunice's red lips, and a gay wave of his
+hand to Aunt Abby, Embury went away and Ferdinand closed the door
+behind him.
+
+"I can't stand it, Aunt Abby," Eunice exclaimed, as the butler
+disappeared into the pantry; "if Sanford were a poor man it would
+be different.  But he's made more money this year than ever
+before, and yet, he won't give me an allowance or even a little
+bit of ready money."
+
+"But you have accounts," Aunt Abby said, absently, for she-was
+scanning the paper now.
+
+"Accounts!  Of course, I have!  But there are a thousand things
+one wants cash for!  You know that perfectly well.  Why, when our
+car was out of commission last week and I had to use a taxicab,
+Sanford would give me just enough for the fare and not a cent
+over to fee the driver.  And lots of times I need a few dollars
+for charities, or some odds and ends, and I can't have a cent to
+call my own!  Al Hendricks may be of coarser clay than Sanford
+Embury, but he wouldn' treat a wife like that!"
+
+"It is annoying, Eunice, but Sanford is so good to you--"
+
+"Good to me!  Why shouldn't he be?  It isn't a question of
+goodness or of generosity--it's just a fool whim of his, that I
+mustn't ask for actual cash!  I can have all the parties I want,
+buy all the clothes I want, get expensive hats or knick-knacks of
+any sort, and have them all charged.  He's never even questioned
+my bills--but has his secretary pay them.  And I must have some
+money in my purse!  And I will!  I know ways to get it, without
+begging it from Sanford Embury!"
+
+Eunice's dark eyes flashed fire, and her cheeks burned scarlet,
+for she was furiously angry.
+
+"Now, now, my dear, don't take it so to heart," soothed Aunt
+Abby; "I'll give you some money.  I was going to make you a
+present, but if you'd rather have the money that it would cost,
+say so."
+
+"I daren't, Aunt Abby.  Sanford would find it out and he'd be
+terribly annoyed.  It's one of his idiosyncrasies, and I have to
+bear it as long as I live with him!"
+
+The gleam in the beautiful eyes gave a hint of desperate remedies
+that might be applied to the case, but Ferdinand returned to the
+room, and the two women quickly spoke of other things.
+
+Hendricks' perfectly appointed and smooth-running car made the
+trip to Newark in minimum time.  Though the road was not a
+picturesque one, the party was in gay spirits and the host was
+indefatigable in his efforts to be entertaining.
+
+"I've looked up this Hanlon person," he said.  "and his record is
+astonishing.  I mean, he does astonishing feats.  He's a juggler,
+a sword swallower and a card sharp--that is, a card wizard.  Of
+course, he's a faker, but he's a clever one, and I'm anxious to
+see what his game is this time.  Of course, it's, first of all,
+advertisement for the paper that's backing him, but it's a new
+game.  At least, it's new over here; they tell me it's done to
+death in England."
+
+"Oh, no, Alvord, it isn't a game," insisted Miss Ames; "if the
+man is blindfolded, he can't play any tricks on us.  And he
+couldn't play tricks on newspaper men anyway--they're too bright
+for that!"
+
+"I think they are, too; that's why I'm interested.  Warm enough,
+Eunice?"
+
+"Yes, thank you," and the beautiful face looked happily content
+as Eunice Embury nestled her chin deeper into her fur collar.
+
+For, though late April, the day was crisply cool and there was a
+tang in the bright sunshiny air.  Aunt Abby was almost as warmly
+wrapped up as in midwinter, and when, on reaching Newark, they
+encountered a raw East wind, she shrugged into her coat like a
+shivering Esquimau.
+
+"Where do we go to see it?" asked Eunice, as later, after
+luncheon, she eagerly looked about at the crowds massed
+everywhere.
+
+"We'll have to reconnoiter," Hendricks replied, smiling at her
+animated face.  "Drive on to the Oberon, Gus."
+
+As they neared the theatre the surging waves of humanity barred
+their progress, and the big car was forced to come to a
+standstill.
+
+"I'll get out," said Hendricks, "and make a few inquiries.  The
+Free Press office is near here, and I know some of the people
+there."
+
+He strode off and was soon swallowed up in the crowd.
+
+"I think I see a good opening," said Gus, after a moment.  "I'll
+get out for a minute, Mrs. Embury.  I must inquire where cars can
+be parked."
+
+"Go ahead, Gus," said Eunice; "we'll be all right here, but don't
+go far.  I'll be nervous if you do."
+
+"No, ma'am; I won't go a dozen steps."
+
+"Extry!  Extry!  All about the Great Magic!  Hanlon the Wonderful
+and his Big Stunt!  Extry!"
+
+"Oh, get a paper, Eunice, do," urged Aunt Abby from the depths of
+her fur coat.  "Ask that boy for one!  I must have it to read
+after I get home--I can't look at it now, but get it!  Here, you
+--Boy--say, Boy!"
+
+The newsboy came running to them and flung a paper into Eunice's
+lap.
+
+"There y'are, lady," he said, grinning; "there's yer paper!
+Gimme a nickel, can't yer?  I ain't got time hangin' on me
+hands!"
+
+His big black eyes stared at Eunice, as she made no move toward a
+purse, and he growled: "Hurry up lady; I gotta sell some papers
+yet.  Think nobuddy wants one but you?"
+
+Eunice flushed with annoyance.
+
+"Please pay him, Aunt Abby," she said, in a low voice; "I
+--haven't any money."
+
+"Goodness gracious me!  Haven't five cents!  Why, Eunice, you
+must have!"
+
+"But I haven't, I tell you!  I can't see Alvord, and Gus is too
+far to call to.  Go over there, boy, to that chauffeur with the
+leather coat--he'll pay you."
+
+"No, thanky mum!  I've had that dodge tried afore!  Pity a grand
+dame like you can't scare up a nickel!  Want to work a poor
+newsie!  Shame for ya, lady!"
+
+"Hush your impudence, you little wretch!" cried Aunt Abby.
+"Here, Eunice, help me get my purse.  It's in my inside coat
+pocket--under the rug--there, see if you can reach it now."
+
+Aunt Abby tried to extricate herself from the motor rug that had
+been tucked all too securely about her, and failing in that,
+endeavored to reach into her pocket with her gloved hand, and
+became hopelessly entangled in a mass of fur, chiffon scarf and.
+eyeglass chain.
+
+"I can't get at my purse, Eunice; there's no use trying," she
+wailed, despairingly.  "Let us have the paper, my boy, and come
+back here when the owner of this car comes and he'll give you a
+quarter."
+
+"Yes--he will!" shouted the lad, and he'll give me a di'mon' pin
+an' a gold watch!  I'd come back, willin' enough, but me root
+lays the other way, an' I must be scootin' or I'll miss the hull
+show.  Sorry!"  The boy, who had no trouble in finding customers
+for his papers, picked up the one he had laid on Eunice's lap and
+made off.
+
+"Never mind, Auntie," she said, "we'll get another.  It's too
+provoking--but I haven't a cent, and I don't blame the boy.  Now,
+find your purse--or, never mind; here comes Alvord."
+
+"Just fell over Mortimer!" called out Hendricks as the two men
+came to the side of the car.  "I made him come and speak to you
+ladies, though I believe its holding up the whole performance.
+Let me present the god in the machine!"
+
+"Not that," said Mr. Mortimer, smiling; "only a small mechanical
+part of to-day's doings.  I've a few minutes to spare, though but
+a few.  How do you do, Miss Ames?  Glad to see you again.  And
+Mrs. Embury; this brings back childhood days!"
+
+"Tell me about Hanlon," begged Miss Ames.  "Is he on the square?"
+
+"So far as I know, and I know all there is to know, I think.  I
+was present at a preliminary test this morning, and I'll tell you
+what he did."  Mortimer looked at his watch and proceeded
+quickly.  "In at the Free Press office one of the men took a
+piece of chalk and drew a line from where we were to a distant
+room of the building.  The line went up and down stairs, in and
+out of various rooms, over chairs and under desks, and finally
+wound up in a small closet in the city editor's office.  Well
+--and I must jump away now--that wizard, Hanlon, being securely
+blindfolded--I did it myself--followed that line, almost without
+deviation, from start to finish.  Through a building he had never
+seers before, and groping along in complete darkness."
+
+"How in the world could he do it?" Aunt Abby asked, breathlessly.
+
+"The chap who drew the line was behind him--behind, mind you--and
+he willed him where to go.  Of course, he did his best, kept his
+mind on the job, and earnestly used his mentality to will Hanlon
+along.  And did!  There, that's all I know, until this
+afternoon's stunt is pulled off.  But what I've told you, I do
+know--I saw it, and I, for one, am a complete convert to
+telepathy!"
+
+The busy man, hastily shaking hands, bustled away, and Hendricks
+told in glee how, through his acquaintance with Mortimer, he had
+secured a permit to drive his car among the front ones that were
+following the performance, which was to begin very soon now.
+
+Gus returned, and they were about to start when Aunt Abby set up
+a plea for a copy of the paper that she wanted.
+
+Good-natured Gus tried his best, Hendricks himself made
+endeavors, but all in vain.  The papers were gone, the edition
+exhausted.  Nor could any one whom they asked be induced to part
+with his copy even at a substantial premium.
+
+"Sorry, Miss Ames," said Hendricks, "but we can't seem to nail
+one.  Perhaps later we can get one.  Now we must be starting or
+we'll soon lose our advantage."
+
+The crowd was like a rolling sea by this time, and only the
+efficiency of the fine police work kept anything like order.
+
+Cautiously the motor car edged along while the daring pedestrians
+seemed to scramble from beneath the very wheels.
+
+And then a cheer arose which proclaimed the presence of Hanlon,
+the mysterious possessor of second sight, or the marvelous reader
+of another's mind--nobody knew exactly which he was.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE STUNT
+
+
+Bowing in response to the mighty cheer that greeted his
+appearance, Hanlon stood, smiling at the crowd.
+
+A young fellow he seemed to be, slender, well-knit and with a
+frank, winning face.  But he evidently meant business, for he
+turned at once to Mr. Mortimer, and asked that the test be begun.
+
+A few words from one of the staff of the newspaper that was
+backing the enterprise informed the audience that the day before
+there had been hidden in a distant part of the city a penknife,
+and that only the hider thereof and the Hon. Mr. Mortimer knew
+where the hiding place was.
+
+Hanlon would now undertake to go, blindfolded, to the spot and
+find the knife, although the distance, as the speaker was willing
+to disclose, was more than a mile.  The blindfolding was to be
+done by a committee of prominent citizens and was to be looked
+after so carefully that there could be no possibility of Hanlon's
+seeing anything.
+
+After that, Hanlon engaged to go to the hiding place and find the
+knife, on condition that Mr. Mortimer would follow him, and
+concentrate all his willpower on mentally guiding or rather
+directing Hanlon's footsteps.
+
+The blindfolding, which was done in full view of the front ranks
+of spectators, was an elaborate proceeding.  A heavy silk
+handkerchief had been prepared by folding it in eight
+thicknesses, which were then stitched to prevent Clipping.  This
+bandage was four inches wide and completely covered the man's
+eyes, but as an additional precaution pads of cotton wool were
+first placed over his closed eyelids and the bandage then tied
+over them.
+
+Thus, completely blindfolded, Hanlon spoke earnestly to Mr.
+Mortimer.
+
+"I must ask of you, sir, that you do your very best to guide me
+aright.  The success of this enterprise depends quite as much on
+you as on myself.  I am merely receptive, you are the acting
+agent.  I strive to keep my mind a blank, that your will may sway
+it in the right direction.  I trust you, and I beg that you will
+keep your whole mind on the quest.  Think of the hidden article,
+keep it in your mind, look toward it.  Follow me--not too
+closely--and mentally push me in the way I should go.  If I go
+wrong, will me back to the right path, but in no case get near
+enough to touch me, and, of course, do not speak to me.  This
+test is entirely that of the influence of your will upon mine.
+Call it telepathy, thought-transference, will-power--anything you
+choose, but grant my request that you devote all your attention
+to the work in hand.  If your mind wanders, mine will; if your
+mind goes straight to the goal, mine will also be impelled
+there."
+
+With a slight bow, Hanlon stood motionless, ready to start.
+
+The preliminaries had taken place on a platform, hastily built
+for the occasion, and now, with Mortimer behind him, Hanlon
+started down the steps to the street.
+
+Reaching the pavement, he stood motionless for a few seconds and
+then, turning, walked toward Broad Street.  Reaching it, he
+turned South, and walked along, at a fairly rapid gait.  At the
+crossings he paused momentarily, sometimes as if uncertain which
+way to go, and again evidently assured of his direction.
+
+The crowd surged about him, now impeding his progress and now
+almost pushing him along.  He gave them no heed, but made his way
+here or there as he chose and Mortimer followed, always a few
+steps behind, but near enough to see that Hanlon was in no way
+interfered with by the throng.
+
+Indeed, so anxious were the onlookers that fair play should
+obtain, the ones nearest to the performer served as a cordon of
+guards to keep his immediate surroundings cleared.
+
+Hanlon's actions, in all respects, were those that might be
+expected from a blindfolded man.  He groped, sometimes with
+outstretched hands, again with arms folded or hands clasped and
+extended, but always with an expression, so far as his face could
+be seen, of earnest, concentrated endeavor to go the right way.
+Now and then he would half turn, as if impelled in one direction,
+and then hesitate, turn and march off the other way.  One time,
+indeed, he went nearly half a block in a wrong street.  Then he
+paused, groped, stumbled a little, and gradually returned to the
+vicinity of Mortimer, who had stood still at the corner.
+Apparently, Hanlon had no idea of his detour, for he went on in
+the right direction, and Mortimer, who was oblivious to all but
+his mission, followed interestedly.
+
+One time Hanlon spoke to him.  "You are a fine 'guide,' sir," he
+said.  "I seem impelled steadily, not in sudden thought waves,
+and I find my mind responds well to your will.  If you will be so
+good as to keep the crowd away from us a little more carefully.
+I don't want you any nearer me, but if too many people are
+between us, it interferes somewhat with the transference of your
+guiding thought."
+
+"Do you want to hear my footsteps?" asked Mortimer, thoughtfully.
+
+"That doesn't matter," Hanlon smiled.  "You are to follow me,
+sir, even if I go wrong.  If I waited to hear you, that would be
+no test at all.  Simply will me, and then follow, whether I am on
+the right track or not.  But keep your mind on the goal, and look
+toward it--if convenient.  Of course, the looking toward it is no
+help to me, save as it serves to fix your mind more firmly on the
+matter."
+
+And then Hanlon seemed to go more carefully.  He stepped slowly,
+feeling with his foot for any curbstone, grating or irregularity
+in the pavement.  And yet he failed in one instance to feel the
+edge of an open coalhole, and his right leg slipped down into it.
+
+Some of the nearby watchers grabbed him, and pulled him back
+without his sustaining injury, for which he thanked them briefly
+and continued.
+
+Several times some sceptical bystanders put themselves
+deliberately in front of the blindfolded man, to see if he would
+turn out for them.
+
+On the contrary, Hanlon bumped into them, so innocently, that
+they were nearly thrown down.
+
+He smiled good-naturedly, and said, "All right, fellows; I don't
+mind, if you don't.  And I don't blame you for wanting to make
+sure that I'm not playing 'possum!"
+
+Of course, Hanlon carried no light cane, such as blind men use,
+to tap on the stones, so he helped himself by feeling the way
+along shop windows and area gates, judging thus, when he was
+nearing a cross street, and sometimes hesitating whether to cross
+or turn the corner.
+
+After a half-hour of this sort of progress he found himself in a
+vacant lot near the edge of the city.  There had been a building
+in the middle of the plot of ground, but it had been burned down
+and only a pile of blackened debris marked the place.
+
+Reaching the corner of the streets that bounded the lot, Hanlon
+made no pause, but started on a straight diagonal toward the
+center of the lot.  He stepped into a tangle of charred logs and
+ashes, but forged ahead unhesitatingly, though slowly, and picked
+his way by thrusting the toe of his shoe tentatively forward.
+
+Mortimer, about three paces behind him, followed, unheeding the
+rubbish he stalked through, and very evidently absorbed in doing
+his part to its conclusion.
+
+For the knife was hidden in the very center of the burned-down
+house.  A bit of flooring was left, on which Hanlon climbed,
+Mortimer getting up on it also.
+
+Hanlon walked slowly round in a circle, the floor being several
+yards square.  Mortimer stepped behind him, gravely looking
+toward the hiding-place, and exerting all his mentality toward
+"guiding" Hanlon to it.  At no time was he nearer than two feet,
+though once, making a quick turn, Hanlon nearly bumped into him.
+Finally, Hanlon, poking about in the ashes with his right foot,
+kicked against something.  He picked it up and it proved to be
+only a bit of wire.  But the next moment he struck something
+else, and, stooping, brought up triumphantly the hidden penknife,
+which he waved exultantly at the crowd.
+
+Loud and long they cheered him.  Cordially Mr. Mortimer grasped
+the hands of the hero, and it was with some difficulty that
+Alvord Hendricks restrained Miss Abby Ames from getting out of
+his car and rushing to congratulate the successful treasure-
+seeker.
+
+"Now," she exclaimed; "no one can ever doubt the fact of
+telepathy after this!  How else could that young man have done
+what he has done.  Answer me that!"
+
+"It's all a fake," asserted Hendricks, "but I'm ready to
+acknowledge I don't know how it's done.  It's the best game I
+ever saw put up, and I'd like to know how he does it."
+
+"Seems to me," put in Eunice, a little dryly, "one oughtn't to
+insist that it is a fake unless one has some notion, at least,
+of how it could be done.  If the man could see--could even peep
+--there might be a chance for trickery.  But with those thick
+cotton pads on his eyes and then covered with that big, thick,
+folded silk handkerchief--it's really a muffle-there's no chance
+for his faking."
+
+"And if he could see--if his eyes were wide open--how would he
+know where to go?" demanded Aunt Abby.  "That blindfolding is
+only so he can't see Mr. Mortimer's face, if he turns round, and
+judge from its expression.  And also, I daresay, to help him
+concentrate his mind, and not be diverted or distracted by the
+crowd and all."
+
+"All the same, I don't believe in it," and Hendricks shook his
+head obstinately.  "There is no such thing as telepathy, and this
+'willing' business has all been exposed years ago."
+
+"I remember," and Aunt Abby nodded; "you mean that Bishop man and
+all that.  But this affair it quite different.  You don't believe
+Mr. Mortimer was a party to deceit, do you?"
+
+"No, I don't.  Mortimer is a judge and a most honest man,
+besides.  He wouldn't stoop to trickery in a thing of this sort.
+But he has been himself deceived."
+
+"Then how was it done?" cried Eunice, triumphantly; "for no one
+else knew where the knife was hidden, except that newspaper man
+who hid it, and he was sincere, of course, or there'd be no sense
+in the whole thing."
+
+"I know that.  Yes, the newspaper people were hoodwinked, too."
+
+"Then what happened?" Eunice persisted.  "There's no possible
+explanation but telepathy.  Is there, now?"
+
+"I don't know of any," Hendricks was forced to admit.  "After the
+excitement blows over a little, I'll try to speak with Mortimer
+again.  I'd like to know his opinion."
+
+They sat in the car, looking at the hilarious crowds of people,
+most of whom seemed imbued with a wild desire to get to the hero
+of the hour and demand his secret.
+
+"There's a man who looks like Tom Meredith," said Eunice,
+suddenly.  "By the way, Alvord, where do the Merediths stand in
+the matter of the club election?"
+
+"Which of them?"
+
+"Either--or both.  I suppose they're on your side--they never
+seemed to like Sanford much."
+
+"My dear Eunice, don't be so narrow-minded.  Club men don't vote
+one way or another because of a personal like or dislike--they
+consider the good of the club--the welfare of the organization."
+
+"Well, then, which side do they favor as being for the good of
+the club?"
+
+"Ask Sanford."
+
+"Oh--if you don't want to tell me."
+
+Eunice looked provokingly pretty and her piquant face showed a
+petulant expression as she turned it to Hendricks.
+
+"Smile on me again and I'll tell you anything you want to know:
+if I know it myself."
+
+A dazzling smile answered this speech, and Hendricks' gaze
+softened as he watched her.
+
+"But you'll have to ask me something else, for, alas, the
+brothers Meredith haven't made a confidant of me."
+
+"Story-teller" and Eunice's dark eyes assumed the look of a
+roguish little girl.  "You can't fool me, Alvord; now tell me,
+and I'll invite you in to tea when we get home."
+
+"I'm going in, anyway."
+
+"Not unless you tell me what I ask.  Why won't you?  Is it a
+secret?  Pooh!  I'd just as lief ask Mr. Tom Meredith myself, if
+I could see him.  Never mind, don't tell me, if you don't want
+to.  You're not my only confidential friend; there are others."
+
+"Who are they, Euny?  I flattered myself I was your only really,
+truly intimate friend--not even excepting your husband!"
+
+"Oh, what a naughty speech!  If you weren't Sanford's very good
+friend, I'd never speak to you again!"
+
+"I don't see how you two men can be friends," put in Aunt Abby,
+"when you're both after that same presidency."
+
+"That's the answer!" Eunice laughed.  "Alvord is San's greatest
+friend, because it's going to be an easy thing for Sanford to win
+the election from him!  If there were a more popular candidate in
+Alvord's place, or a less popular one in Sanford's place, it
+wouldn't be such a walkover!"
+
+"You--you--" Hendricks looked at Eunice in speechless admiration.
+The dancing eyes were impudent, the red lips curved scornfully,
+and she made a daring little moue at him as she readjusted her
+black lace veil so that a heavy bit of its pattern covered her
+mouth.
+
+"What do you do that for?  Move that darned flower, so I can see
+you talk!"
+
+She laughed then, and wrinkled her straight little nose until the
+veil billowed mischievously.
+
+"I wish you'd take that thing off," Hendricks said, irritatedly;
+"it annoys me."
+
+"And pray, sir, who are you, that I should shield you from
+annoyance?  My veil is a necessary part of my costume."
+
+"Necessary nothing!  Take it off, I tell you!"
+
+"Merry Christmas!" and Eunice gave him such a scornful shrug of
+her furred shoulders that Hendricks laughed out, in sheer
+enjoyment of her audacity.
+
+"Tell me about the Merediths, and I'll take off the offending
+veil," she urged, looking at him very coaxingly.
+
+"All right; off with it."
+
+Slowly, and with careful deliberation, Eunice unpinned her veil,
+took it off and folded it in a small, compact parcel.  This she
+put in her handbag, and then, with an adorable smile, said:
+"Now!"
+
+"You beautiful idiot," and Hendricks devoured her with his eyes.
+"All I can tell you about the Merediths is, that I don't know
+anything about their stand on the election."
+
+"What do you guess, assume, surmise, imagine or predict?" she
+teased, still fascinating him with her magnetic charm.
+
+"Well, I think this: they're a little too old-timey to take up
+all my projects.  But, on the other hand, they're far from
+willing to subscribe to your husband's views.  They do not
+approve of the Sunday-school atmosphere he wants to bring about,
+nor do they shut their eyes to the fact that the younger element
+must be considered."
+
+"Younger element!  Do you call Sanford old?"
+
+"No; he's only twenty-eight this minute.  But there are a lot of
+new members even younger than that strange as it may seem!  These
+boys want gayety--yea, even unto the scorned movies and the
+hilarious prize-fights--and as they are scions of the wealthy and
+aristocratic families of our little old town, I think we should
+consider them.  And, since you insist on knowing, it is my firm
+belief, conviction and--I'm willing to add--my hope that the
+great and influential Meredith brothers agree with me!  So there
+now, Madam Sanford Embury!"
+
+"Thank you, Alvord; you're clear, at least.  Do you think I could
+persuade them to come over to Sanford's side?"
+
+"I think you could persuade the statue of Jupiter Ammon to climb
+down from his pedestal and take you to Coney Island, if you
+looked at him like that!  But I also think that friend husband
+will not consent to your electioneering for him.  It isn't done,
+my dear Eunice."
+
+"As if I cared what is 'done' and what isn't, if I want to help
+Sanford."
+
+"Go ahead, then, fair lady; but remember that Sanford Embury
+stands for the conservative element in our club, and anything you
+might try to do by virtue of your blandishments or fascinations
+would be frowned upon and would react against your cause instead
+of for it.  If I might suggest, my supporters, the younger set,
+the--well--the gayer set, would more readily respond to such a
+plan.  Why don't you electioneer for me?"
+
+Eunice disdained to reply, and Aunt Abby broke into the
+discussion by exclaiming: "Oh, Alvord, here comes Mr. Mortimer,
+and he has Mr. Hanlon with him!"
+
+Sure enough the two heroes of the day were walking toward the
+Hendricks car, which, still standing near the scene of Hanlon's
+triumph, awaited a good chance for a getaway.
+
+"I wonder if you ladies wouldn't like to meet this marvel," began
+Mr. Mortimer, genially, and Aunt Abby's delight was convincing,
+indeed.
+
+Eunice, too, greeted Mr. Hanlon cordially, and Hendricks held out
+a welcoming hand.
+
+"Tell us how you did it," he said, smiling into the intelligent
+face of the mysterious "mind-reader."
+
+"You saw," he returned, simply, with a slight gesture of
+out-turned palms, as if to disavow any secrets.
+
+"Yes, I saw," said Hendricks, "but with me, seeing is not
+believing."
+
+"Don't listen, Hanlon," Mr. Mortimer said, smiling a little
+resentfully.  "That sort of talk would go before the test, but
+not now.  What do you mean, Hendricks, by not believing?  Do you
+suspect me of complicity?"
+
+"I do not, Mortimer.  I believe you have been taken in with the
+rest, by a very clever trick."  He looked sharply at Hanlon, who
+returned his gaze serenely.  "I believe this young man is
+unusually apt as a trickster, and I believe he hoodwinked the
+whole community.  The fact that I cannot comprehend, or even
+guess how he did it, in no way disturbs my conviction that he did
+do it by trickery.  I will change this opinion, however, if Mr.
+Hanlon will look me in the eye and assure me, on his honor, that
+he found the penknife by no other means or with no other
+influence to guide him than Mr. Mortimer's will-power."
+
+"I am not on trial," he said.  "I am not called upon to prove or
+disprove anything.  I promised to perform a feat and I have done
+so.  It was not nominated in the bond that I should defend my
+honor by asseverations."
+
+"Begging the question," laughed Hendricks, but Mr. Mortimer said:
+"Not at all.  Hanlon is right.  If he has any secret means of
+guidance, it is up to us to discover it.  But I hold that he
+cannot have, or it would have been discovered by some of the
+eager observers.  We had thousands looking on to-day.  There must
+have been some one clever enough to suspect the deceit, if deceit
+there were."
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Mortimer," Hanlon spoke quietly.  "I made no
+mystery of my performance; I had no confederate, no
+paraphernalia.  All there was to see could be seen by all.  You
+willed me; I followed your will.  That is all."
+
+The simple manner and pleasant demeanor of the young man greatly
+attracted Eunice, who smiled at him kindly.
+
+"I came here very sceptical," she admitted; "and even now I can't
+feel entirely convinced--"
+
+"Well, I can!" declared Aunt Abby.  "I am willing to own it, too.
+These people who really believe in your sincerity, Mr. Hanlon,
+and refuse to confess it, make me mad!  I wish you'd give an
+exhibition in New York."
+
+"I'm sorry to disappoint you, madam, but this is my last
+performance."
+
+"Good gracious why?" Aunt Abby looked curiously at him.
+
+"I have good reasons," Hanlon smiled.  "You may learn them
+later, if you care to."
+
+"I do.  How can I learn them?"
+
+"Read the Newark Free Press next Monday."
+
+"Oh!" and Eunice had an inspiration--a premonition of the truth.
+"May I speak to you alone a minute, Mr. Hanlon?"
+
+She got out of the car and walked a few steps with the young man,
+who politely accompanied her.
+
+They paused a short distance away, and held a brief but animated
+conversation.  Eunice laughed gleefully, and it was plain to be
+seen her charming smiles played havoc with Hanlon's reserved
+demeanor.  Soon he was willingly agreeing to something she was
+proposing and finally they shook hands on it.
+
+They returned to the car; he assisted Eunice in, and then he told
+Mr. Mortimer they had stayed as long as was permissible and were
+being eagerly called back to the committee in charge of the day's
+programme.
+
+"That's so," said Mortimer.  "I begged off for a few minutes.
+Good-by, all." He raised his hat and hurried away after Hanlon.
+
+"Well," said Hendricks as they started homeward, "what did you
+persuade him to do, Eunice?  Give a parlor exhibition for you?"
+
+"The boy guessed nearly right the very first time!" cried Eunice,
+gleefully; "it was all a fake, and he's coming to our house
+Sunday afternoon to tell how he did it.  It's all coming out in
+the paper on Monday."
+
+"My good land!" and Aunt Abby sank back in her seat, utterly
+disgusted.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE EMBURYS
+
+
+"And that's my last word on the subject."
+
+Embury lighted one cigarette from the stub of another, and
+deposited the stub in the ash-tray at his elbow.  It was Sunday
+afternoon, and the peculiar relaxedness of that day of rest and
+gladness had somewhat worn on the nerves of both Sanford and
+Eunice.
+
+Aunt Abby was napping, and it was too early yet to look for their
+expected visitor, Hanlon.
+
+Eunice had been once again endeavoring to persuade her husband to
+give her an allowance--a stated sum, however small, that she
+might depend upon regularly.  The Emburys fulfilled every
+requirement of the condition known as "happily married" save for
+this one item.  They were congenial, affectionate, good-natured,
+and quite ready to make allowances for each other's
+idiosyncrasies or whims.
+
+With this one exception.  Eunice found it intolerable to be
+cramped and pinched for small amounts of ready cash, when her
+husband was a rich man.  Nor was Embury mean, or even economical
+of nature.  He was more than willing that his wife should have
+all the extravagant luxuries she desired.  He was entirely ready
+to pay any and all bills that she might contract.  Never had he
+chided her for buying expensive or unnecessary finery--even more,
+he had always admired her taste and shown pleasure at her
+purchases.  He was proud of her beauty and willing it should be
+adorned.  He was proud of her grace and charm and willing that
+the household appointments should provide an appropriate setting
+for her hospitality.  They were both fond of entertaining and
+never was there a word of protest from him as to the amounts
+charged by florists and caterers.
+
+And yet, by reason of some crank, crotchet or perverse notion,
+Embury was unwilling to give his wife what is known as "pin
+money."
+
+"Buy your pins at the best jewelers'," he would laugh, "and send
+the bills to me; buy your hats and gowns from the Frenchiest
+shops--you can get credit anywhere on my name--Good Lord!  Tiger,
+what more can a woman want?"
+
+Nor would he agree to her oft-repeated explanations that there
+were a thousand and one occasions when some money was an absolute
+necessity.  Or, if persuaded, he gave her a small amount and
+expected it to last indefinitely.
+
+It is difficult to know just what was the reason for this
+attitude.  Sanford Embury was not a miser.  He was not penurious
+or stingy.  He subscribed liberally to charities, many of them
+unknown to the public, or even to his wife, but some trick of
+nature, some twist in his brain, made this peculiarity of his
+persistent and ineradicable.
+
+Now, Eunice Embury was possessed of a quick, sometimes
+ungovernable temper.  It was because of this that her husband
+called her Tiger.  And also, as he declared, because her
+beautiful, lithe grace was suggestive of "the fearful symmetry"
+of the forest tribe.
+
+She had tried honestly to control her quick anger, but it would
+now and then assert itself in spite of her, and Embury delighted
+to liken her to Katherine, and declared that he must tame her as
+Petruchio tamed his shrew.
+
+This annoyed Eunice far more than she let him know, for she was
+well aware that if he thought it teased her, he would more
+frequently try Petruchio's methods.
+
+So, when she flew into a rage, and he countered with a fiercer
+anger, she knew he was assuming it purposely, and she usually
+quieted down, as the better part of valor.
+
+On this particular occasion Eunice had taken advantage of a
+quiet, pleasant tete-a-tete to bring up the subject.
+
+Embury had heard her pleading, not unkindly, but with a bored
+air, and had finally remarked, as she paused in her arguments, "I
+refuse, Eunice, to give you a stated allowance.  If you haven't
+sufficient confidence in your husband's generosity to trust him
+to give you all you want or need, and even more than that, then
+you are ungrateful for what I have given you.  And that's my last
+word on the subject."
+
+The rank injustice of this was like iron entering her soul.  She
+knew his speech was illogical, unfair and even absurd, but she
+knew no words of hers could make him see it so.
+
+And in utter exasperation at her own impotence, she flung her
+self-control to the winds, and let go of her temper.
+
+"Well, it isn't my last word on the subject!" she cried.  "I have
+something further to say!"
+
+"That is your woman's privilege," and Embury smiled irritatingly
+at her.
+
+"Not only my privilege, but my duty!  I owe it to my
+self-respect, to my social position, to my standing as your
+wife--the wife of a prominent man of affairs--to have at my
+command a sum of ready money when I need it.  You know perfectly
+well, I do not want it for anything wrong--or for anything that I
+want to keep secret from you.  You know I have never had a secret
+from you nor do I wish to have!  I simply want to do as other
+women do--even the poorest, the meanest man, will give his wife
+an allowance, a little something that is absolutely her own.
+Why, most of the women of my set have a checking account at the
+bank--they all have a personal allowance!"
+
+"So?" Embury took up another cigarette.  "You may remember,
+Eunice, I have spoken my last word on the subject."
+
+"And you may remember that I have not!  But I will--and right
+now.  And it is simply that since you refuse me the pleasure and
+convenience of some money for everyday use, I shall get some from
+another source."
+
+Embury's eyes narrowed, and he surveyed his wife with a calm
+scrutiny.  Then he smiled.
+
+"Stenography and typewriting?" he said; "or shall you take in
+plain sewing?  Cut out the threats, Eunice; they won't get you
+anywhere!"
+
+"They'll get me where I want to arrive!  Don't say I didn't warn
+you--I repeat, I shall get money for my personal use, and you
+will have no right to criticize my methods, since you refuse me a
+paltry sum by way of allowance."
+
+Eunice was standing, her two hands tightly grasping a chair-back
+as she looked angrily at Embury, who still seated lazily, blew
+smoke rings toward her.  She was magnificent in her anger, her
+cheeks burned crimson, her dark eyes had an ominous gleam in them
+and her curved lips straightened into a determined line of
+scarlet.  Her muscles were strained and tense, her breath came
+quickly, yet she had full control of herself and her pose was
+that of a crouching, waiting tiger rather than a furious ode.
+
+Embury was full of admiration at the beautiful picture she made,
+but pursuant of his inexorable plan, he rose to "tame" her.
+
+"'Tiger, tiger, burning bright,'" he quoted, "you must take back
+that speech--it is neither pretty nor tactful--"
+
+"I have no wish to be tactful!  Why should I?  I am not trying to
+coax or cajole you!  You refuse my request--you have repeatedly
+refused me--now, I am at the end of my patience, and I shall take
+matters into my own hands!"
+
+"Lovely hands!" he murmured, taking them in his own.  "You have
+unusually pretty hands, Eunice; it would be a pity to use them to
+earn money."
+
+"Yet that is my intention.  I shall get money by the work of
+these hands.  It will be in a way that you will not approve, but
+you have forfeited your right to approve or disapprove."
+
+"That I have not!  I am your husband--you have promised to obey
+me--"
+
+"A mere form of words--it meant nothing!"
+
+"Our marriage ceremony meant nothing?"
+
+"If it did, remember that you endowed me with all your worldly
+goods--"
+
+"And I give them to you, too!  Do you know that nine-tenths of my
+yearly expenditures are for your pleasure and benefit!  I enjoy
+our home, too, but it would not be the elaborate, luxurious
+establishment that it is, but that it suits your taste to have it
+so!  And then, you whine and fret for what you yourself call a
+paltry matter!  Ingrate!"
+
+"Don't you dare call me ingrate!  I owe you no gratitude!  Do you
+give me this home as a charity?  As a gift, even!  It is my
+right!  And it is also my right to have a bank account of my own!
+It is my right to uphold my head among other women who laugh at
+me, who ridicule me, because, with all your wealth, I have no
+purse of my own!  I will not stand it!  I rebel!  And you may
+rest assured things are going to be different hereafter.  I will
+get money--"
+
+"You shall not!" Embury grasped the wrists of the hands he still
+held, and his face was fiercely frowning.  "You are my wife, and
+whatever you may or may not owe to me, you owe it to our
+position, to our standing in the community to do nothing beneath
+your dignity or mine!"
+
+"You care nothing for my dignity, for my appearance before other
+women, so why should I consider your dignity?  You force me to
+it, and it is therefore your fault if I--"
+
+"What is it you propose to do?  How are you going to get this
+absurd paltry sum you are making such a fuss about?"
+
+"That I decline to tell you--"
+
+"Don't you dare to do needlework or anything that would make me
+look foolish.  I forbid it!"
+
+"And I scorn your forbidding!  Make you look foolish, indeed!
+When you make me look foolish every day of my life, because I
+can't do as other women do--can't have what other wives have--"
+
+"Now, now, Tiger, don't make such a row over nothing--let's talk
+it over seriously--"
+
+"There's nothing to talk over.  I've asked you time and again for
+an allowance of money--real money, not charge accounts--and you
+always refuse--"
+
+"And always shall, if you are so ugly about it!  Why must you fly
+into a rage over it?  Your temper is--"
+
+"My temper is roused by your cruelty--"
+
+"Cruelty!"
+
+"Yes; it's as much cruelty as if you struck me!  You deny me my
+heart's dearest wish for no reason whatever--"
+
+"It's enough that I don't approve of an allowance--"
+
+"It ought to be enough that I do!"
+
+"No, no, my lady!  I love you, I adore you, but I am not the sort
+of man to lie down and let you walk over me!  I give you
+everything you want and if I reserve the privilege of paying for
+it myself, it does not seem to me a crime!"
+
+"Oh, do hush up, Sanford!  You drive me frantic!  You prate the
+same foolishness.  over and over!  I don't want to hear any more
+about it.  You said you had spoken the last word on the subject,
+now stop it!  I, too, have said my final say.  I shall do as I
+please, and I shall not consider myself accountable to you for my
+actions."
+
+"Confound it!  Do what you please, then!  I wash my hands of your
+nonsense!  But be careful how you carry the name I have given
+you!"
+
+"If you keep on, I may decide not to carry it at all--"
+
+Eunice was interrupted by the entrance of Ferdinand, announcing
+the arrival of Mason Elliott.
+
+Trained in the school of convention, both the Emburys became at
+once the courteous, cordial host and hostess.
+
+"Hello, Elliott," sang out Sanford, "glad to see your bright and
+happy face.  Come right along and chum in."
+
+Eunice offered her hand with a welcoming smile.
+
+"Just the boy I was looking for," she said,  we've the jolliest
+game on for the afternoon.  Haven't we, San?"
+
+"Fool trick, if you ask me!  Howsumever, everything goes.
+Interested in thought-transference bunk, Elliott?"
+
+"I know what you're getting at."  Mason Elliott nodded his head
+understandingly.  "Hendricks put me wise.  So, I says to myself,
+s'posin' I hop along and listen in.  Yes, I am interested,
+sufficiently so not to mind your jeers about bunk and that."
+
+"Oh, do you believe in it, Mason?" said Eunice, animatedly; "for
+this is a faked affair--or, rather, the explanation of one.  It's
+the Hanlon boy, you know--"
+
+"Yes; I know.  But what's the racket with you two turtle-doves?
+I come in, and find Eunice wearing the pet expression of a
+tragedy queen and Sanford, here, doing the irate husband.  Going
+into the movies?"
+
+"Yes, that's it," and Eunice smiled bravely, although her lips
+still quivered from her recent turbulent quarrel, and a light,
+jaunty air was forced to conceal her lingering nervousness.
+
+"Irate husband is good!" laughed Embury, "considering we are yet
+honeymooners."
+
+"Good dissemblers, both of you," and Elliott settled himself in
+an easy chair, "but you don't fool your old friend.  Talk about
+thought-transference--it doesn't take much of that commodity to
+read that you two were interrupted by my entrance in the middle
+of a real, honest-to-goodness, cats'-and-dogs' quarrel."
+
+"All right, have it your own way," and Embury laughed shortly;
+"but it wasn't the middle of it, it was about over."
+
+"All but the making up!  Shall I fade away for fifteen minutes?"
+
+"No," protested Eunice.  "It was only one of the little tiffs
+that happen in the best families!  Now, listen, Mason--"
+
+"My dear lady, I live but on the chance of being permitted to
+listen to you--only in the hope that I may listen early and
+often--"
+
+"Oh, hush!  What a silly you are!"
+
+"Silly, is it?  Remember I was your childhood playmate.  Would
+you have kept me on your string all these years if I were silly?
+And here's another of my childhood friends!  How do you do, most
+gracious lady?"
+
+With courtly deference Elliott rose to greet Aunt Abby, who came
+into the living-room from Eunice's bedroom.
+
+Her black silk rustled and her old point lace fell yellowly round
+her slender old hands, for on Sunday afternoon Miss Ames dressed
+the part.
+
+"How are you, Mason," she said, but with a preoccupied air.
+"What time is Mr. Hanlon coming, Eunice?"
+
+"Soon now, I think," and Eunice spoke with entire composure, her
+angry excitement all subdued.  It was characteristic of her that
+after a fit of temper, she was more than usually soft and gentle.
+More considerate of others and even, more roguishly merry.
+
+"You know, Mason, that what we are to be told to-day is a most
+inviolable secret--that is, it is a secret until tomorrow."
+
+"Never put off till to-morrow what you can tell to-night,"
+returned Elliott, but he listened attentively while Eunice and
+Aunt Abby described the performance of the young man Hanlon.
+
+"Of course," Elliott observed, a little disappointedly, "if he
+says he hoaxed the crowd, of course he did; but in that case I've
+no interest in the thing.  I'd like it better if he were honest."
+
+"Oh, he's honest enough," corrected Embury; "he owns right up
+that it was a trick.  Why, good heavens, man!  if it hadn't been,
+he couldn't have done it at all.  I'm rather keen to know just
+how he managed, though, for the yarn of Eunice and Aunt Abby is a
+bit mystifying."
+
+"Don't depend too much on the tale of interested spectators.
+They're the worst possible witnesses!  They see only what they
+wish to see."
+
+"Only what Hanlon wished us to see," corrected Eunice, gaily.
+And then Hanlon, himself, and Alvord Hendricks arrived together.
+
+"Met on the doorstep," said Hendricks as he came in.  "Mr. Hanlon
+is a little stage-struck, so it's lucky I happened along."
+
+Willy Hanlon, as he was called in the papers, came shyly forward
+and Eunice, with her ready tact, proceeded to put him at once at
+his ease.
+
+"You came just at the right minute to help me out," she said,
+smiling at him.  "They are saying women are no good at describing
+a scene!  They say that we can't be relied on for accuracy.  So,
+now you're here and you can tell what really happened."
+
+"Yes, ma'am," and Hanlon swallowed, a little embarrassedly;
+"that's what I came for, ma'am.  But first, are you all straight
+goods?  Will you all promise not to tell what I tell you before
+tomorrow morning?"
+
+They all promised on their honor, and, satisfied, Hanlon began
+his tale.
+
+"You see, it's a game that can't be played too often or too close
+together," he said; "I mean, if I put it over around here, I
+can't risk it again nearer than some several states away.  And
+even then it's likely to get caught on to."
+
+"Have you put it over often?" asked Hendricks, interestedly.
+
+"Yes, sir--well, say, about a dozen times altogether.  Now I'm
+going to chuck it, for it's too risky.  And so, I've sold the
+story of how I do it to the newspaper syndicate for more than I'd
+make out of it in a dozen performances.  You can read it all in
+to-morrow's papers, but Mrs. Embury, she asked me to tell it here
+and I said yes--'cause-'cause--well, 'cause I wanted to!"
+
+The boyish outburst was so unmistakably one of admiration, of
+immediate capitulation to Eunice's charm, that she blushed
+adorably, and the others 'laughed outright.
+
+"One more scalp, Euny," said Elliott; "oh, you can't help it, I
+know."
+
+"Go on, Mr. Hanlon," said Eunice, and he went on.
+
+"You see, to make you understand it rightly, I must go back a
+ways.  I've done all sorts of magic stunts and I'm kinda fond of
+athletics.  I've given exhibitions along both those lines in
+athletic clubs and in ladies' parlors, too.  Well, I had a
+natural talent for making my ears move--lots of fellows do that,
+I know; but I got pretty spry at it."
+
+"What for?" asked Embury.
+
+"Nothing particular, sir, only one thing led to another.  One day
+I read in an English magazine about somebody pulling off this
+trick--this blindfold chase, and I said to myself I b'lieved I
+could do it first rate and maybe make easy money.  I don't deny
+I'm out after the coin.  I've got to get my living, and if I'd
+rather do it by gulling the public, why, it's no more than many a
+better man does."
+
+"Right you are," said Elliott.
+
+"So, 's I say, I read this piece that told just how to do it, and
+I set to work.  You may think it's funny, but the first step was
+working my forehead muscles."
+
+"Whatever for?" cried Aunt Abby, who was listening, perhaps most
+intently of all.
+
+"I'll tell you, in a jiffy, ma'am," and Hanlon smiled
+respectfully at the eager old face.
+
+"You see, if you'll take notice, the muscles of your forehead,
+just above your eyebrows, work whenever you shut or open your
+eyes.  Yes, try it, ma'am," as Aunt Abby wrinkled her forehead
+spasmodically.  "Shut your eyes, ma'am.  Now, cover them closely
+with the palm of your left hand.  Press it close--so.  Now, with
+your hand there, open your eyes slowly, and feel your forehead
+muscles go up.  They have to, you can't help it.  Now, that's the
+keynote of the whole thing."
+
+"Clear as Erebus!" remarked Hendricks.  "I don't get you, Steve."
+
+"Nor I," and Eunice sat with her hand against her eyes, drawing
+her lovely brows into contortions.
+
+"Well, never mind trying; I'll just tell you about it."  Hanlon
+laughed good-naturedly at the frantic attempts of all of them to
+open their eyes in accordance with his directions.
+
+"Anyhow, you gentleman know, for I know you all belong to a big
+athletic club, that if you exercise any set of muscles regularly
+and for a long time, they will develop and expand and become
+greatly increased in size and strength."
+
+"Sure," said Hendricks.  "I once developed my biceps--"
+
+"Yes, that's what I mean.  Well, sir, I worked at my forehead
+muscles some hours a day for months and I kept at it until I had
+those muscles not only developed and in fine working condition
+but absolutely under my control.  Look!"
+
+They gazed, fascinated, while the strange visitor moved the skin
+of his forehead up and down and sideways, and in strange circular
+movements.  He seemed distinctly proud of his accomplishment and
+paused for approbation.
+
+"Marvelous, Holmes, marvelous!" exclaimed Hendricks, who had
+discovered that Hanlon did not resent jocularity, "but--what
+for?"
+
+"Can't you guess?" and the young man smiled mysteriously.  "Try."
+
+"Give it up," and Hendricks shook his head.  "I think it's more
+wonderful to get thought-transference by wiggling your forehead
+than any other way I ever heard of, but I can't guess how it
+helps."
+
+"Can't any of you?" and Hanlon looked around the circle.
+
+"Wait a minute," said Aunt Abby, who was thinking hard.  "Let me
+try.  Is it because when the thought waves jump from the `guide'
+to you they strike your forehead first--"
+
+"And it acts as a wireless receiving station?  No, ma'am,
+that isn't it.  And, too, ma'am, I owned up, you know, that
+the whole thing was a fake, a trick.  You see, there was no
+'thought-transference,'--not any--none at all."
+
+"Then what do you accomplish with your forehead muscles?" asked
+Eunice, unable to restrain her impatience.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE EXPLANATION
+
+
+"Just this, Mrs.  Embury, the impossibility of my being
+blindfolded.  As a matter of fact, it is practically impossible
+to blindfold anybody, anyway."
+
+"Why, what do you mean?" interrupted Hendricks.  "Why is it?"
+
+"Because the natural formation of most people's noses allows them
+to see straight down beneath an ordinary bandage.  I doubt if one
+child out of a hundred who plays 'Blind Man's Buff' is really
+unable to see at all."
+
+"That's so," said Embury, "when I played it, as a kid, I could
+always see straight down--though not, of course, laterally."
+
+"And noses are different," went on Hanlon.  "Some prominent beaks
+could never be blindfolded, but some small, flat noses might be.
+However, this refers to ordinary blindfolding with an ordinary
+handkerchief.  When it comes to putting fat cotton pads in one's
+eye sockets, before the thick bandage is added, it necessitates
+previous preparation.  So, my powers of contracting and expanding
+my forehead muscles allow me to push the pads out of the way, and
+enable me to see straight down the sides of my nose from under
+the bandage.  Of course, I can see only the ground, and that but
+in a circumscribed area around my feet, but it's enough."
+
+"How?" asked Eunice, her piquant face eagerly turned to the
+speaker.  "How did you know which way to turn?"
+
+"I don't like it," declared Aunt Abby.  "I hate it--I'm
+absolutely disgusted with the whole performance!  I detest
+practical jokes!"
+
+"Oh, come now, Miss Ames," and Hendricks chuckled; "this isn't
+exactly a joke--it's a hoax, and a new one, but it's a legitimate
+game.  From the Davenport Brothers and Herrmann, on down through
+the line of lesser lights in the conjuring business--even our own
+Houdini--we know there is a trick somewhere; the fun is in
+finding it.  Hanlon's is a new one and a gem--I don't even begin
+to see through it yet."
+
+"Neither do I," agreed Mason Eliott.  "I think to do what he did
+by a trick is really more of a feat than to be led by real
+thought-transference."
+
+"Except that the real thing isn't available--and trick-work is."
+Hanlon smiled genially as he said this, and Embury, a little
+impatiently, urged him to go on, and begged the others to cease
+their interruptions.
+
+"Well," Hanlon resumed, "understand, then, that I cannot be
+really blindfolded.  No committee of citizens, however
+determined, can bandage my eyes in such a manner that I can't
+wiggle my forehead about sufficiently to get the pads up or down
+or one side or the other until I can see--all I want to."  Hanlon
+knotted up his frontal muscles to prove that a bandage tied
+tightly would become loose when he relaxed the strain."
+Understand that I can see the ground only for a few inches
+directly at the front of me or very close to my sides.  That is
+all."
+
+"O.K.," said Hendricks.  "Now, with your sight assured for that
+very limited space, what is next?"
+
+"That, sir, is enough to explain the little game I put over in
+the newspaper office, before trying the out-of-door test.  You
+remember, ladies, Mr. Mortimer told you how I followed a chalk
+line, drawn on the floor, and which led me up and down stairs,
+over chairs, under desks, and all that.  Well, it was dead easy,
+because I could see the line on the floor all the time.  Their
+confidence in their 'secure' blindfolding made them entirely
+unsuspicious of my ability to see.  So, that was easy."
+
+"Clever, though," and Embury looked at young Hanlon with
+admiration.  "Simple, but most perfectly convincing."
+
+"Yes, sir, it was the very simplicity of it that gulled 'em.
+And, of course, I'm some actor.  I groped around, and felt my way
+by chairs and railings and door-frames, though I needn't have
+touched one of 'em.  My way was plainly marked, and I could see
+the chalk line and all I had to do was to follow it.  But it was
+that preliminary test that fixed it in their minds about the
+'willing' business.  I kept asking the 'guide' to keep his mind
+firmly on his efforts to 'will' me.  I begged him to use all his
+mental powers to keep me in the right direction--oh, I have that
+poppycock all down fine--just as the mediums at the seances
+have."
+
+Aunt Abby sniffed disdainfully, and Embury chuckled at her
+expression.  Though not a 'spiritualist,' Miss Ames was greatly
+interested in telepathy and kindred subjects and like all the
+apostles of such cults she disliked to hear of frauds committed
+in their names.
+
+"Go on," said Eunice, her eyes dancing with anticipation.  "I
+love a hoax of this sort, but I can't imagine yet how you did it!
+I understand about the blindfolding, though, and of course that
+was half the battle."
+
+"It was, ma'am, and the other half was--boots!"
+
+"Boots!"
+
+"Yes, ma'am.  Do you know that you seldom see two pairs of boots
+or shoes alike on men?"
+
+"I thought they were all alike," exclaimed Eunice.  "I mean all
+street shoes alike, and all pumps alike, and so forth."
+
+"No, not that," and Embury laughed; "but, I say, Hanlon, there
+are thousands of duplicates!"
+
+"Not so you'd notice it I But let me explain.  First, however,
+here are four men present.  Let's compare our shoes."
+
+Eight feet were extended, and it was surprising to note the
+difference in the footgear.  Naturally, Hanlon's were of a
+cheaper grade than the others, but whereas it might have been
+expected that the three society men would wear almost identical
+boots, they were decidedly varied.  Each pair was correct in
+style, and the work of the best bootmakers, but the difference in
+the design of tip, side cut, sole and fastening was quite
+sufficient to prevent mistaking one for another.
+
+"You see," said Hanlon.  "Well, take a whole lot of your men
+friends, even if they all go to the same bootmaker, and you'll
+find as much difference.  I don't mean that there are not
+thousands of shoes turned out in the same factory, as alike as
+peas, but there is small chance of striking two pairs alike in
+any group of men.  Then, too, there is the wear to be counted on.
+Suppose two of you men had bought shoes exactly alike, you wear
+them differently; one may run over his heel slightly, another may
+stub out the toe.  But, these things are observable only to a
+trained eye.  So--I trained my eye.  I made a study of it, and
+now, if I see a shoe once, I never forget it, and never connect
+it with the wrong man.  On the street, in the cars, everywhere I
+go, I look at shoes--or, rather, I did when I was training for
+this stunt.  It was fascinating, really.  Why, sometimes the only
+identifying mark would be the places worn or rubbed by the bones
+of the man's foot--but it was there, allee samee!  I nailed 'm,
+every one!  Oh, I didn't remember them all--that was only
+practice.  But here's the application; when I started on that
+trip in Newark, I was introduced to Mr. Mortimer.  Mind you, it
+was the first time I had ever laid eyes on the man.  Well,
+unnoticed by anybody, of course, I caught onto his shoes.  They
+were, probably, to other people, merely ordinary shoes, but to me
+they were as a flaming beacon light!  I stamped them on my
+memory, every detail of them.  They were not brand new, for, of
+course, anybody would choose an easy old pair for that walk.  So
+there were scratches, bumps, and worn, rubbed places, that, with
+their general make-up, rendered them unmistakable to yours truly!
+Then I was ready.  The earnest but easily-gulled committee
+carefully adjusted their useless pads of cotton and their thick
+bandage over my eyes, and I was led forth to the fray.
+
+"Remember, I asked Mr. Mortimer not only to think of the hidden
+penknife, and will me toward it, but also to look toward it
+himself.  Now, to look toward any object, a man usually turns his
+whole body in that direction.  So, groping about, clumsily, I
+managed to get sight of the toes of those well-remembered boots.
+Seeing which way they were pointed was all the information I
+needed just then.  So, with all sorts of hesitating movements and
+false starts, I finally trotted off in the direction he had
+faced.  The rest is easy.  Of course, coming to a corner, I was
+absolutely in the dark as to whether I was to turn or to keep
+straight ahead.  This necessitated my turning back to Mr.
+Mortimer to catch a glimpse of which way his feet were pointing.
+I covered this by speaking to him, begging him to will me aright
+--to will me more earnestly--or some such bunk.  I could invent
+many reasons for turning round; pretend I had lost my feeling of
+'guidance,' or pretend I heard a sudden noise, as of danger, or
+even pretend I felt I was going wrong.  Well, I got a peek at
+those feet as often as was necessary, and the rest was just
+play-acting to mislead the people's minds.  Of course, when I
+stumbled over a stone or nearly fell into a coal hole or grating,
+it was all pretense.  I saw the pavements as well as anybody, and
+my effort was to seem unaware of what was coming.  Had I
+carefully avoided obstacles, they would know I could see."
+
+"And when you reached that vacant lot?" prompted Eunice.
+
+"I saw friend Mortimer's feet were pointing toward the center of
+the lot, and not in the direction of either street.  So I turned
+in, and when I got where I could see the burned-down house, I
+guessed that was the hiding-place.  So I circled around it,
+urging my 'guide' to look toward the place, and then noting his
+feet.  I had to do a bit of scratching about; but remember, I
+could see perfectly, and I felt sure the knife was in the charred
+and blackened rubbish, so I just hunted till I found it.  That's
+all."
+
+"Well, it does sound simple and easy as you tell it, but, believe
+me, Hanlon, I appreciate the cleverness of the thing and the real
+work you went through in preparation for it all," Hendricks said,
+heartily, and the other men added words of admiration and
+approval.
+
+But Miss Ames was distinctly displeased.
+
+"I wouldn't mind, if you'd advertised it as a trick," she said,
+in an injured tone, "as, say, the conjurors do such tricks, but
+everybody knows they're fooling their audience.  It is expected."
+
+"Yes, lady," Hanlon smiled, "but the fake mediums and
+spirit-raisers, they don't say they're frauds--but they are."
+
+"Sir, you don't know what you're talking about!  Just because
+there are some tricksters in that, as in all professions, you
+must not denounce them all."
+
+"They're all fakes, lady," and Hanlon's air of sincerity carried
+conviction to all but Aunt Abby.
+
+"How do you know?" she demanded angrily.
+
+"I've looked into it--I've looked into all sorts of stunts like
+these.  It's in my nature, I guess.  And all professional mediums
+are frauds.  You bank on that, ma'am!  If you want to tip tables
+or run a Ouija Board with some honest friends of yours, go ahead;
+but any man or woman who takes your money for showing you
+spiritual revelations of any sort, is a fraud and a charlatan."
+
+"There's no exception?" asked Embury, quite surprised.
+
+"Not among the professionals.  They wouldn't keep on in their
+profession if they didn't put up the goods.  And to do that,
+they've got to use the means."
+
+"Why--why, young man--" cried Aunt Abby, explosively, "you just
+read 'The Voice of Isis'!  You read--"
+
+"That's all right, they are plenty of fake books, more, prob'ly,
+than fake mediums, but you read some books that I'll recommend.
+You read 'Behind the Scenes With the Mediums,' or 'The Spirit
+World Unveiled,' and see where you're at then!  No, ma'am, the
+only good spook is a dead spook, and they don't come joy-riding
+back to earth."
+
+"But," and Eunice gazed earnestly at her guest, "is there
+nothing--nothing at all in telepathy?"
+
+"Now you've asked a question, ma'am.  I don't say there isn't,
+but I do say there isn't two per cent of what the fakers claim
+there is.  I'll grant just about two per cent of real stuff in
+this talk of telepathy and thought-transference, and even that is
+mostly getting a letter the very day you were thinking about the
+writer!"
+
+Embury laughed.  "That's as close as I've ever come to it," he
+said.
+
+"Yep, that's the commonest stunt.  That and the ghostly good-by
+appearance of a friend that's dyin' at the time in a distant
+land."
+
+"Aren't those cases ever true?" Eunice asked.
+
+"'Bout two per cent of 'em.  Most of those that have been traced
+down to actual evidence have fizzled out.  Well, I must be going.
+You see, now, I've sold this whole spiel that I've just given you
+folks to a big newspaper syndicate, and I got well paid.  That
+puts me on Easy Street, for the time bein', and I'm going to
+practice up for a new stunt.  When you hear again of Willy
+Hanlon, it'll be in a very different line of goods!"
+
+"What?" asked Eunice, interestedly.
+
+"'Scuse me, ma'am.  I'd tell you, if I'd tell anybody.  But, you
+see, it ain't good business.  I just thought up a new line of
+work and I'm going to take time to perfect myself in it, and then
+spring it on a long-sufferin' public."
+
+"No, I won't ask you to tell, of course," Eunice agreed, "but
+when you give an exhibition, if it's near New York, let me know,
+won't you?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am, I sure will.  And now I'll move on."
+
+"Oh, no, you must wait for a cup of tea; we'll have it brought at
+once."
+
+Eunice left the room for a moment.  Aunt Abby in dudgeon, refused
+to talk to the disappointing visitor.  But the three men quickly
+engaged him in conversation and Hanlon told some anecdotes of his
+past experiences that kept them interested.
+
+Ferdinand brought in the tea things, and Eunice, with her
+graceful hospitality, saw to it that her guest was in no way
+embarrassed or bothered by unaccustomed service.
+
+"I've had a right good time," he said in his boyish way, as he
+rose to go.  "Thank you, ma'am, for the tea and things.  I liked
+it all."
+
+His comprehensive glance that swept the room and its occupants
+was a sincere compliment and after he had gone there was only
+kindly comment on his personality.
+
+Except from Aunt Abby.
+
+"He's an ignorant boor," she announced.
+
+"Now, now," objected Eunice, "you only say that because he upset
+your favorite delusions.  He punctured your bubbles and pulled
+down your air-castles.  Give it up, Aunt Abby, there's nothing in
+your' Voice of Isis' racket!"
+
+"Permit me to be the judge of my own five senses, Eunice, if you
+please."
+
+"That's just it, Miss Ames," spoke up Hendricks.  "Is your
+psychic information, or whatever it is, discernible to your five
+senses, or any of them?"
+
+"Of course, or how could I realize the presence of the psychic
+forces?"
+
+"I don't know just what those things are, but I supposed they
+were available only to a sort of sixth sense--or seventh!  Why, I
+have five senses, but I don't lay claim to any more than that."
+
+"You're a trifler, and I decline to discuss the subject seriously
+with you.  You've always been a trifler, Alvord--remember, I've
+known you from boyhood, and though you've a brilliant brain, you
+have not utilized it to the best advantage."
+
+"Sorry, ma'am," and the handsome face put on a mock penitence,
+"but I'm too far advanced in years to pull up now."
+
+"Nonsense!  you're barely thirty!  That's a young man."
+
+"Not nowadays.  They say, after thirty, a man begins to fall to
+pieces, mentally."
+
+"Oh, Al, what nonsense!" cried Eunice.  "Why, thirty isn't even
+far enough along to be called the prime of life!"
+
+"Oh, yes, it is, Eunice, in this day and generation.  Nobody
+thinks a man can do any great creative work after thirty.
+Inventing, you know, or art or literature--honestly, that's the
+attitude now.  Isn't it, Mason?"
+
+Elliott looked serious.  "It is an opinion recently expressed by
+some big man," he admitted.  "But I don't subscribe to it.  Why,
+I'd be sorry to think I'm a down-and-outer!  And I'm in the class
+with you and Embury."
+
+"You're none of you in the sere and yellow," declared Eunice,
+laughing at the idea.  "Why, even Aunt Abby, in spite of the
+family record, is about as young as any of us."
+
+"I know I am," said the old lady, serenely.  "And I know more
+about my hobby of psychic lore in a minute than you young things
+ever heard of in all your life!  So, don't attempt to tell me
+what's what!"
+
+"That's right, Miss Ames, you do!" and Mason Elliott looked
+earnestly at her.  "I'm half inclined to go over to your side
+myself.  Will you take me some time to one of your seances--but
+wait, I only, want to go to one where, as you said, the psychic
+manifestations are perceptible to one or more of the five
+well-known senses.  I don't want any of this talk of a mysterious
+sixth sense."
+
+"Oh, Mason, I wish you would go with me!  Madame Medora gives
+wonderful readings!"
+
+"Mason!  I'm ashamed of you!" cried Eunice, laughing.  "Don't let
+him tease you, Aunt Abby; he doesn't mean a word he says!"
+
+"Oh, but I do!  I want to learn to read other people's thoughts
+--not like our friend Hanlon, but really, by means of my senses
+and brain."
+
+"You prove you haven't any brain, when you talk like that!" put
+in Hendricks, contemptuously.
+
+"And you prove you haven't any sense," retorted Elliott "I say,
+who's for a walk?  I've got to sweep the cobwebs out of the place
+where my brain ought to be--even if it is empty, as my learned
+colleague avers."
+
+"I'll go," and Eunice jumped up.  "I want a breath of fresh air.
+Come along, San?"
+
+"Nixy I've got to look over some papers in connection with my
+coming election as president of a big club."
+
+"Your coming election may come when you're really in the prime of
+life," Hendricks laughed, "or, perhaps, not till you strike the
+sere and yellow, but if you refer to this year's campaign of the
+Athletic Club, please speak of my coming election."
+
+"Oh, you two deadly rivals!" exclaimed Eunice.  "I'm glad to
+be out of it, if you're going to talk about those eternal
+prize-fights and club theatres!  Come on, Mason, let's go for
+a brisk walk in the park."
+
+Eunice went to her room, and came back, looking unusually
+beautiful in a new spring habit.  The soft fawn color suited her
+dark type and a sable scarf round her throat left exposed an
+adorable triangle of creamy white flesh.
+
+"Get through with your squabbling, little boys," she said, gaily,
+with a saucy smile at Hendricks and a swift, perfunctory kiss on
+Embury's cheek, and then she went away with Mason Elliott.
+
+They walked a few blocks in silence, and then Elliott said,
+abruptly: "What were you and Sanford quarreling about?"
+
+"Aren't you a little intrusive?" but a smile accompanied the
+words.
+
+"No, Eunice; it isn't intrusion.  I have the right of an old
+friend--more than a friend, from my point of view--and I ask only
+from the best and kindest motives."
+
+"Could you explain some those motives?"  She tried to make her
+voice cold and distant, but only succeeded in making it pathetic.
+
+"I could--but I think it better, wiser and more honorable not to.
+You know, dear, why I want to know.  Because I want you to be the
+happiest woman in the whole world--and if Sanford Embury can't
+make you so--"
+
+"Nobody can!" she interrupted him, quickly.  "Don't, Mason," she
+turned a pleading look toward him; "don't say anything we may
+both regret.  You know how good Sanford is to me; you know how
+happy we are together"
+
+"Were," he corrected, very gravely.
+
+"Were--and are," she insisted.  "And you know, too--no one
+better--what a fiendish temper I have!  Though I try my best to
+control it, it breaks out now and then, and I am helpless.
+Sanford thinks he can tame it by giving me as good as I send
+--by playing, as he calls it, Petruchio to my Katherine--but,
+somehow, I don't believe that's the treatment I need."
+
+Her dark eyes were wistful, but she did not look at him.
+
+"Of course it isn't!" Elliott returned, in a low voice.  "I know
+your nature, Eunice; I've known it all our lives.  You need
+kindness when you are in a tantrum.  The outbursts of temper you
+cannot help--that I know positively--they're an integral part of
+your nature.  But they're soon over--often the fiercer they are,
+the quicker they pass,--and if you were gently managed, not
+brutally, at the time they occur, it would go far to help you to
+overcome them entirely.  But--and I ask you again--what were you
+discussing to-day when I came?"
+
+"Why do you want to know?"
+
+"I think I do know--and forgive me, if I offend you--I think I
+can help you."
+
+"What do you mean?  "Eunice looked up with a frightened stare.
+
+"Don't look like that--oh, Eunice, don't!  I only meant--I know
+you want money--ready money--let me give it to you--or lend it to
+you--do, Eunice--darling!"
+
+"Thank you, Mason," Eunice forced herself to say, "but I must
+refuse your offer.  I think--I think we--we'll go home now."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+A SLAMMED DOOR
+
+
+"Don't you call her 'that Desternay woman'!"
+
+"I'll call her what I please!  And without asking your
+permission, either.  And I won't have my wife playing bridge at
+what is practically a gambling house!"
+
+"Nothing of the sort!  A party of invited guests, in a private
+house is a social affair, and you shall not call it ridiculous
+names!  You play for far higher stakes at your club than we ever
+do at Fifi Desternay's."
+
+"That name is enough!  Fancy your associating with a woman who
+calls herself Fifi!"
+
+"She can't help her name!  It was probably wished on her by her
+parents in baptism--"
+
+"It probably was not!  She was probably christened Mary Jane!"
+
+"You seem to know a lot about her."
+
+"I know all I want to; and you have reached the end of your
+acquaintance with her and her set.  You are not to go there,
+Eunice, and that's all there is about it."
+
+The Emburys were in Eunice's bedroom.  Sanford was in evening
+dress and was about to leave for his club.  Eunice, who had
+dined in a negligee, was donning an elaborate evening costume.
+She had dismissed her maid when Embury came into the room,
+and was herself adjusting the finishing touches.  Her gown of
+henna-colored chiffon, with touches of gold embroidery, was most
+becoming to her dark beauty, and some fine ornaments of ancient
+carved gold gave an Oriental touch to her appearance.  She stood
+before a long mirror, noting the details of her gown, and showed
+an irritating lack of attention to Embury's last dictum.
+
+"You heard me, Eunice?" he said, caustically, his hand on the
+doorknob.
+
+"Not being deaf, I did," she returned, without looking toward
+him.
+
+"And you will obey me?" He turned back, and reaching her side, he
+grasped her arm with no uncertain touch.  "I demand your
+obedience!"
+
+"Demands are not always granted!"
+
+She gave him a dazzling smile, but it was defiant rather than
+friendly.
+
+"I make it a request, then.  Will you grant me that?"
+
+"Why should I grant your requests, when you won't grant mine?"
+
+"Good Lord, Eunice, are you going to harp on that allowance
+string again?"
+
+"I am.  Why shouldn't I, when it warps my whole life--"
+
+
+"Oh, come, cut out the hifalutin' talk!"
+"Well, then, to come down to plain facts, there isn't a day that
+I'm not humiliated and embarrassed by the lack of a little cash."
+
+"Bad as that?"
+
+"Yes, quite as bad as that!  Why, the day we went out to Newark I
+didn't have five cents to buy Aunt Abby a newspaper, and she had
+to get along without one!"
+
+"She seemed to live through it."
+
+"Sanford, you're unbearable!  And to-day, at Mrs. Garland's, a
+woman talked, and then they took up a collection for the 'Belgian
+Home Fires,' and I didn't have a cent to contribute."
+
+"Who is she?  I'll send a check."
+
+"A check!  You answer everything by a check!  Can't you
+understand?  Oh, there's no use explaining; you're determined you
+won't understand!  So, let us drop the subject.  Is to-night the
+club election?"
+
+"No, to-morrow night.  But to-night will probably decide it in my
+mind.  It practically hinges on the Meredith set--if they can be
+talked over--"
+
+"Oh, Sanford, I do hope they can!" Eunice's eyes sparkled and she
+smiled as she put her hands on her husband's shoulders.  "And,
+listen, dear, if they are--if you do win the election, won't you
+--oh, San, won't you give me an allowance?"
+
+"Eunice, you're enough to drive a man crazy!  Will you let up on
+that everlasting whine?  No, I won't!  Is that plain?"
+
+"Then I shall go and get it for myself!"
+
+"Go to the devil for all I care!"
+
+Sanford flung out of the room, banging the door behind him.
+Eunice heard him speaking to Ferdinand, rather shortly, and as he
+left the apartment, she knew that he had gone to the club in
+their motor car, and if she went out, she would have to call a
+cab.
+
+She began to take off her gown, half deciding to stay at home.
+She had never run counter to Embury's expressed orders and she
+hesitated to do so now.
+
+And yet--the question of money, so summarily dismissed by her
+husband, was a very real trouble to her.  In her social position,
+she actually needed ready cash frequently, and she had determined
+to get it.  Her last hope of Sanford failed her, when he refused
+to grant her wish as a sort of celebration of his election, and
+she persuaded herself that it was her right to get some money
+somehow.
+
+Her proposed method was by no means a certain one, for it was the
+hazardous plan of winning at bridge.
+
+Although a first-rate player, Eunice often had streaks of bad
+luck, and, too, inexpert partners were a dangerous factor.  But,
+though she sometimes said that winnings and losings came out
+about even in the long run, she had found by keeping careful
+account, her skill made it probable for her to win more than she
+lost, and this reasoning prompted her to risk high stakes in hope
+of winning something worth-while.
+
+Fifi Desternay was a recent acquaintance of hers, and not a
+member of the set Eunice looked upon as her own.  But the
+gatherings at the Desternay house were gay and pleasant, a bit
+Bohemian, yet exclusive too, and Eunice had already spent several
+enjoyable afternoons there.
+
+She had never been in the evening, for Embury wouldn't go, and
+had refused to let her go without him.  Nor did she want to, for
+it was not Eunice's way to go out alone at night.
+
+But she was desperate and, moreover, she was exceedingly angry.
+Sanford was unjust and unkind.  Also, he had been cross and ugly,
+and had left her in anger, a thing that had never happened
+before.
+
+And she wanted some money at once.  A sale of laces was to be
+held next day at a friend's home, and she wanted to go there,
+properly prepared to purchase some bits if she chose to.
+
+Her cheeks flushed as she remembered Mason Elliott's offer to
+give or lend her money, but she smiled gently, as she remembered
+the true friendliness of the man, and his high-mindedness, which
+took all sting from his offer.
+
+As she brooded, her anger became more fierce, and finally, with a
+toss of her head, she rose from the chair, rang for the maid, and
+proceeded to finish her toilette.
+
+"Lend me some money, will you, Aunt Abby?" she asked, as, all
+ready to go, she stepped into the livingroom.
+
+She had no hesitancy in making this appeal.  If she won, she
+would repay on her return.  If she lost, Aunt Abby was a
+good-natured waiter, and she knew Eunice would pay later.
+
+"Bridge?" said the old lady, smiling at the lovely picture Eunice
+made, in her low gown and her billowy satin wrap.  "I thought
+Sanford took the car."
+
+"He did.  I'm going in a taxi.  What a duck you are to let me
+have this," as she spoke she stuffed the bills in her soft gold
+mesh-bag.  "Don't sir up, dear, I'll be out till all hours."
+
+"Where are you going?"
+
+"To the end of the rainbow--where there's a pot of gold!  You
+read your spook books, and then go to bed and dream of ghosts and
+specters!"
+
+
+Eunice kissed her lightly, and gathering up her floating
+draperies, went out of the room with the faithful and efficient
+Ferdinand.
+
+On his way to the club, Embury pursued that pleasing occupation
+known as nursing his wrath.  He was sorry he had left Eunice in
+anger--he realized it was the first time that had ever happened--
+and he was tempted to go back, or, at least to telephone back,
+that he was sorry.  But that would do little good, he knew,
+unless he also said he was willing to accede to her request for
+an allowance, and that he was as sternly set against as ever.
+
+He couldn't quite have told himself why he was so positive in
+this matter, but it was largely owing to an instinctive sense of
+the fitness of having a wife dependent on her husband for all
+things.  Moreover, it seemed to him that unlimited charge
+accounts betokened a greater generosity than an allowance, and he
+felt an aggrieved irritation at Eunice's seeming ingratitude.
+
+The matter of her wanting "chicken-feed" now and then seemed to
+him too petty to be worthy of serious consideration.  He really
+believed that he gave her money whenever she asked for it, and
+was all unaware how hard he made it for her to ask.
+
+The more he thought about it, the more he saw Eunice in the
+wrong, and himself an injured, unappreciated benefactor.
+
+He adored his wife, but this peculiarity of hers must be put an
+end to somehow.  Her temper, too, was becoming worse instead of
+better; her outbreaks were more frequent, more furious, and he
+had less power to quell them than formerly.
+
+Clearly, he concluded, Eunice must be taught a lesson, and this
+occasion must be made a test case.  He had left her angrily, and
+it might turn out that it was the best thing he could have done.
+Poor girl, she doubtless was sorry enough by now; crying,
+probably.  His heart softened as he conjured up the picture of
+his wife alone, and in tears, but he reasoned that it would do
+her good, and he would give her a new jewel to make up for it,
+after the trouble was all over.
+
+So he went on to the club, and dove into the great business of
+the last possible chance of electioneering.
+
+Though friendly through all this campaign, the strain was
+beginning to tell on the two candidates, and both Embury and
+Hendricks found it a little difficult to keep up their good
+feeling.
+
+"But," they both reasoned, "as soon as the election is over,
+we'll be all right again.  We're both too good sports to hold
+rancor, or to feel any jealousy."
+
+And this was true.  Men of the world, men of well-balanced minds,
+clever, logical and just, they were fighting hard, each for his
+own side, but once the matter was decided, they would be again
+the same old friends.
+
+However, Embury was just as well pleased to learn that Hendricks
+was out of town.  He had gone to Boston on an important business
+matter, and though it was not so stated, Embury was pretty sure
+that the important business was closely connected with the coming
+election.
+
+In his own endeavor to secure votes, Embury was not above playing
+the, to him, unusual game of being all things to all men.
+
+And this brought him into cordial conversation with one of the
+younger club members, who was of the type he generally went out
+of his way to avoid.
+
+"Try to put yourself in our place, Mr. Embury," the cub was
+saying.  "We want this club to be up-to-date and beyond.
+Conservatism is all very well, and we all practiced it 'for the
+duration,' but now the war's over, let's have some fun, say we!"
+
+"I know, Billy, but there is a certain standard to be
+maintained--"
+
+"We, the people of the United States--and tiddle tya--tya--tya!
+Why, everybody's doing it!  The women--bless 'em!--too.  I just
+left your wife at a table with my wife, and the pile of chips
+between 'em would make some men's card-rooms hide their
+diminished walls!"
+
+"That so?  You saw my wife this evening?  Where?"
+
+"As if you didn't know!  But, good heavens! perhaps you didn't!
+Have I been indiscreet?"
+
+"Not at all.  At Mrs. Desternay's, wasn't it?"
+
+"Yes, but you gave me a jolt.  I was afraid I'd peached."
+
+"Not at all.  They're friends."
+
+"Well, between you and me, they oughtn't to be.  I let Gladys go,
+under protest--I left her there myself--but it's never again for
+her!  I shall tell her so to-night."
+
+Embury changed the subject and by using all his self-control gave
+no hint of his wrath.  So Eunice had gone after all!  After his
+expressly forbidding it!  It was almost unbelievable!
+
+And within an hour of his receiving information, Sanford Embury,
+in his own car, stopped at the Desternay house.
+
+Smiling and debonair as he entered the drawingroom, he greeted
+the hostess and asked for his wife.
+
+"Oh, don't disturb her, dear Mr. Embury," begged the vivacious
+Fifi; "she's out for blood!  She's in the den, with three of our
+wizards and the sky's their limit!"
+
+"Tut, tut!  What naughtiness!"  Embury's manner was just the
+right degree of playful reproach, and his fine poise and
+distinguished air attracted attention from many of the players.
+
+The rooms were filled, without being crowded, and a swift mental
+stock-taking of the appointments and atmosphere convinced the
+newcomer that his preconception of the place was about right.
+
+"I must take her away before she cleans out the bunch," he
+laughed, and made progress toward the 'den.'
+
+"Here you are," he said lightly, as he came upon Eunice, with
+another woman and two men, all of whom were silently
+concentrating on what was quite evidently a stiff game.
+
+"Yes, here I am," she returned; "don't speak please, until I
+finish this hand."
+
+Eunice was playing the hand, and though her face paled, and a
+spot of bright color appeared on either cheek she did not lose
+her head, and carried the hand through to a successful
+conclusion.
+
+"Game and rubber!" she cried, triumphantly, and the vanquished
+pair nodded regretfully.
+
+"And the last game, please, for my wife," Embury said, in calm,
+courteous tones.  "You can get a substitute, of course.  Come,
+Eunice!"
+
+There was something icy in his tones that made Eunice shiver,
+though it was not noticeable to strangers, and she rose, smiling,
+with a few gay words of apology.
+
+"Perfectly awful of me to leave, when I'm winning," she said,
+"but there are times, you know, when one remembers the 'obey'
+plank in the matrimonial platform!  Dear Fifi, forgive me--"
+
+She moved about gracefully, saying a word or two of farewell, and
+then disappeared to get her wrap, with as little disturbance as
+possible of the other players.
+
+"You naughty man!" and Mrs. Desternay shook her finger at Embury;
+"if you weren't so good-looking I should put you in my black
+books!"
+
+"That would at least keep me in your memory," he returned, but
+his smile was now quite evidently a forced one.
+
+And his words of farewell were few, as he led Eunice from the
+house and down to the car.
+
+He handed her in, and then sat beside her, as the chauffeur
+turned homeward.
+
+Not a word was spoken by either of them during the whole ride.
+
+Several times Eunice decided to break the silence, but concluded
+not to.  She was both angry and frightened, but the anger
+predominated.
+
+Embury sat motionless, his face pale and stern, and when they
+arrived at their own house, he assisted her from the car, quite
+as usual, dismissed the chauffeur, with a word of orders for the
+next day, and then the pair went into the house.
+
+Ferdinand met them at their door, and performed his efficient and
+accustomed services.
+
+And then, after a glance at her husband, Eunice went into her own
+room and closed the door.
+
+Embury smoked a cigarette or two, and at last went to his room.
+
+Ferdinand attended him, and the concerned expression on the old
+servant's face showed, though he tried to repress it, an anxiety
+as to the very evident trouble that was brewing.
+
+But he made no intrusive remark or implication, though a furtive
+glance at his master betokened a resentment of his treatment of
+Eunice, the idol of Ferdinand's heart.
+
+Dismissed, he left Embury's room, and closed the door softly
+behind him.
+
+The door between the rooms of Embury and his wife stood a little
+ajar, and as his hand fell on it to shut it, he heard a stifled
+gasp of "Sanford!"
+
+He looked in, and saw Eunice, in a very white heat of rage.  In
+all their married life he had never seen her so terribly angry as
+she looked then.  Speechless from very fury, she stood, with
+clenched hands, trying to command her voice.
+
+She looked wonderfully beautiful like some statue of an avenging
+angel--he almost fancied he could see a flaming sword!
+
+As he looked, she took a step toward him, her eyes burning with a
+glance of hate.  Judith might have looked so, or Jael.  Not
+exactly frightened, but alarmed, lest she might fly into a
+passion of rage that would really injure her, Embury closed the
+door, practically in her very face.  Indeed, practically, he
+slammed it, with all the audible implication of which a slammed
+door is capable.
+
+The next morning Ferdinand waited for the usual summons from
+Embury's bedroom.  The tea tray was ready, the toast crisp and
+hot, but the summons of the bell was unusually delayed.
+
+When the clock pointed to fifteen minutes past the hour Ferdinand
+tapped on Embury's door.  A few moments later he tapped again,
+rapping louder.
+
+Several such attempts brought no response, and the valet tried
+the door.  It would not open, so Ferdinand went to Eunice's door
+and knocked there.
+
+Jumping from her bed, and throwing a kimono round her, Eunice
+opened her own door.
+
+Ferdinand started at sight of her white face, but recovered
+himself, and said, "Mr. Embury, ma'am.  He doesn't answer my
+knock.  Can he be ill?"
+
+"Oh, I guess not," Eunice tried to speak casually, but miserably
+failed.  "Go through that way."  She pointed to the door between
+her room and her husband's.
+
+Ferdinand hesitated.  "You open it, Mrs. Embury, please," he
+said, and his voice shook.
+
+"Why, Ferdinand, what do you mean?  Open that door!"
+
+"Yes, ma'am," and turning the knob, Ferdinand entered.
+
+"Why, he's still asleep!" he exclaimed.  "Shall I wake him?"
+
+"Yes--that is--yes, of course!  Wake him up, Ferdinand."
+
+The door on the other side of Eunice's room opened, and Aunt Abby
+put her head in.
+
+"What's the matter?  What's Ferdinand doing in your room, Eunice?
+Are you ill?"
+
+"No, Aunt Abby--" but Eunice got no further.  She sank back on
+her bed, and buried her face in the pillows.
+
+"Get up, Mr. Embury--it's late," Ferdinand was saying, and then
+he lightly touched the arm of his master.
+
+"He--he--oh, Miss Eunice!  Oh, my God!  Why, ma'am--he--he looks
+to be dead!"
+
+With a shriek, Eunice raised her head a moment and then flung it
+down on the pillows again, crying, "I don't believe it!  You
+don't know what you're saying!  It can't be so!"
+
+"Yes, I do, ma'am--he's--why, he's cold!"
+
+"Let me come in!" ordered Aunt Abby, as Ferdinand tried to bar
+her entrance; "let me see, I tell you!  Yes, he is dead!  Oh,
+Eunice--now, Ferdinand, don't lose your head!  Go quickly and
+telephone for Doctor--what's his name?  I mean the one in this
+building--on the ground floor--Harper--that's it--Doctor Harper.
+Go, man, go!"
+
+Ferdinand went, and Aunt Abby leaned over the silent figure.
+
+"What do you suppose ailed him, Eunice?  He was perfectly well,
+when he went to bed, wasn't he?"
+
+"Yes," came a muffled reply.
+
+"Get up, Eunice; get up, dear.  That doctor will be here in a
+minute.  Brush up your hair, and fasten your kimono.  You won't
+have time to dress.  I must put on a cap."
+
+Aunt Abby flew to her bedroom, and returned quickly, wearing a
+lace cap Eunice had given her, and talking as she adjusted it.
+
+"It must be a stroke--and yet, people don't have strokes at his
+age.  It can't be apoplexy--he isn't that build--and, too, he's
+such an athlete; there's nothing the matter with him.  It can't
+be--oh, mercy gracious!  it can't be--Eunice!  Sanford wouldn't
+kill himself, would he?"
+
+"No! no! of course not!"
+
+"Not just now before the election--no, of course he wouldn't!
+But it can't be-oh, Lord, what can it be?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+A VISION
+
+
+"I have never been so mystified in all my life!" Dr. Harper spoke
+in a perplexed, worried way, and a puzzled frown drew his shaggy
+eyebrows together.  Though the family physician of most of the
+tenants of the large, up-to-date apartment house, he was of the
+old school type and had the kindly, sociable ways of a smalltown
+practitioner.
+
+"I know Sanford Embury, bone, blood and muscle," he said; "I've
+not only been his physician for two years, but I've examined him,
+watched him and kept him in pink of condition for his athletic
+work.  If I hadn't looked after him, he might have overdone his
+athletics--but he didn't--he used judgment, and was more than
+willing to follow my advice.  Result--he was in the most perfect
+possible physical shape in every particular!  He could no more
+have had a stroke of apoplexy or paralysis than a young oak tree
+could!  And there's no indication of such a thing, either.  A man
+can't die of a stroke of any sort without showing certain
+symptoms.  None of these are present--there's nothing present
+to hint the cause of his death.  There's no cut, scratch or mark
+of any description; there's no suggestion of strangulation or
+heart failure--well, it's the strangest thing I ever ran up
+against in all my years of practice!"
+
+The doctor sat at the Embury breakfast table, heartily partaking
+of the dishes Ferdinand offered.  He had prescribed aromatic
+ammonia for Eunice, and a cup of coffee for Miss Ames, and then
+he had made a careful examination of Sanford Embury's mortal
+body.
+
+Upon its conclusion he had insisted that the ladies join him at
+breakfast and he saw to it that they made more than a pretense of
+eating.
+
+"You've a hard day ahead of you," he said, in his gentle,
+paternal way, "and you must be fortified as far as possible.  I
+may seem harsh, Mrs. Embury, but I'm going to ask you to be as
+brave as you can, right now--at first--as I may say--and then,
+indulge in the luxury of tears later on.  This sounds brutal, I
+daresay, but I've a reason, dear madam.  There's a mystery here.
+I don't go so far as to say there's anything wrong--but there's a
+very mysterious death to be looked into, and as your physician
+and your friend, I want to advise--to urge you to keep up your
+strength for what may be a trying ordeal.  In the first place, I
+apprehend an autopsy will be advisable, and I trust you will give
+your consent to that."
+
+"Oh, no!" cried Eunice, her face drawn with dismay, "not that!"
+
+"Now, now, be reasonable, Mrs. Embury.  I know you dislike the
+idea--most people do--but I think I shall have to insist upon
+it."
+
+"But you can't do it, unless I agree, can you?" and Eunice looked
+at him sharply.
+
+"No--but I'm sure you will agree."
+
+"I won't!  I never will!  You shan't touch Sanford!  I won't
+allow it."
+
+"She's right!" declared Aunt Abby.  "I can't see, doctor, why it
+is necessary to have a postmortem.  I don't approve of such
+things.  Surely you can, somehow discover what Mr. Embury died
+of--and if not, what matter?  He's dead, and nothing can change
+that!  It doesn't seem to me that we have to know--"
+
+"Pardon me, Miss Ames, it is necessary that I should know the
+cause of the death.  I cannot make a report until--"
+
+"Well you can find out, I should think."
+
+"I never heard of a doctor who couldn't determine the cause of a
+simple, natural death of one of his own patients!" Eunice's
+glance was scathing and her tones full of scorn.
+
+But the doctor realized the nervous tension she was under, and
+forbore to take offense, or to answer her sharply.
+
+"Well, well, we'll see about it," he temporized.  "I shall first
+call in Marsden, a colleague of mine, in consultation.  I admit
+I'm at the end of my own knowledge.  Tell me the details of last
+evening.  Was Mr. Embury just as usual, so far as you noticed?"
+
+"Of course he was," said Eunice, biting the words off crisply.
+"He went to the Athletic Club he's a candidate for the
+presidency--"
+
+"I know--I know--"
+
+"And I--I was at a party.  On his way from the club he called for
+me and brought me home in our car.  Then he went to bed almost at
+once-and so did I.  That's all."
+
+"You heard no sound from him whatever during the night?"
+
+"None."
+
+"As nearly as I can judge, he died about daybreak.  But it is
+impossible to say positively as to that.  Especially as I cannot
+find the immediate cause of death.  You heard nothing during the
+night, Miss Ames?"
+
+"I did and I didn't," was the strange reply.
+
+"Just what does that mean?  "and Doctor Harper looked at her
+curiously.
+
+"Well," and Aunt Abby spoke very solemnly, "Sanford appeared to
+me in a vision, just as he died--"
+
+"Oh, Aunt Abby," Eunice groaned, "don't begin that sort of talk!
+Miss Ames is a sort of a spiritualist, doctor, and she has
+hallucinations."
+
+"Not hallucinations--visions," corrected the old, lady.  "And it
+is not an unheard of phenomenon to have a dying person appear to
+a friend at the moment of death.  It was the passing of Sanford,
+and I did see him!"
+
+Eunice rose and left the table.  Her shattered nerves couldn't
+stand this, to her mind, foolishness at the moment.
+
+She went from the dining-room into the livingroom, and stood,
+gazing out of the window, but seeing nothing.
+
+Dr. Harper pushed back his chair from the table.
+
+"Just a word more about that, Miss Ames," he said.  "I'm rather
+interested in those matters myself.  You thought you saw Mr.
+Embury?"
+
+"I did see him.  It was a vague, shadowy form, but I recognized
+him.  He came into my room from Eunice's room.  He paused at my
+bedside and leaned over me, as if for a farewell.  He said
+nothing--and in a moment he disappeared.  But I know it was
+Sanford's spirit taking flight."
+
+"This is interesting, but I can't discuss it further now.  I have
+heard of such cases, but never so directly.  But my duty now is
+to Mrs. Embury.  I fear she will have a nervous breakdown.  May I
+ask you, Miss Ames, not to talk about you--your vision to her?  I
+think it disturbs her."
+
+"Don't you tell me, doctor, what to talk to Eunice about, and
+what not to!  I brought up that girl from a baby, and I know her
+clear through!  If it upsets her nerves to hear about my
+experience last night, of course, I shall not talk about it to
+her, but trust me, please, to know what is best to do about
+that!"
+
+"Peppery women--both of them!" was Dr. Harper's mental comment;
+but he only nodded his head pleasantly and went to Eunice.
+
+"If you've no objections, I'll call Marsden here at once," he
+said, already taking up the telephone.
+
+Eunice listlessly acquiesced, and then the doctor returned to
+Embury's bedroom.
+
+He looked carefully about.  All the details of the room, the
+position of clothing, the opened book, face down, on the night
+table, the half-emptied water-glass, the penciled memorandum on
+the chiffonier--all seemed to bear witness to the well, strong
+man, who expected to rise and go about his day as usual.
+
+"Not a chance of suicide," mused the doctor, hunting about the
+room and scrutinizing its handsome appointments.  He stepped into
+Embury's bathroom, and could find nothing that gave him the least
+hint of anything unusual in the man's life.  A chart near the
+white, enameled scale showed that Embury had recorded his weight
+the night before in his regular, methodical way.  The written
+figures were clear and firm, as always.  Positively the man had
+no premonition of his swiftly approaching end.
+
+What could have caused it?  What could have snapped short the
+life thread of this strong, sound specimen of human vitality?
+Dr. Harper could find no possible answer, and he was glad to hear
+Ferdinand's voice as he announced the arrival of Dr. Marsden.
+The two men held earnest consultation.
+
+The newcomer was quite as much mystified as his colleague, and
+they marveled together.
+
+"Autopsy, of course," said Marsden, finally; "the widow must be
+brought to consent.  Why does she object so strongly?"
+
+"I don't know of any reason except the usual dislike the members
+of the family feel toward it.  I've no doubt she will agree, when
+you advise it."
+
+Eunice Embury did agree, but it was only after the strenuous
+insistence of Dr. Marsden.
+
+She flew into a rage at first, and the doctor, who was
+unacquainted with her, wondered at her fiery exhibition of
+temper.
+
+And, but for the arrival of Mason Elliott on the scene, she might
+have resisted longer.
+
+Elliott had telephoned, wishing to consult Embury on some matter,
+and Ferdinand's incoherent and emotional words had brought out
+the facts, so of course Elliott had come right over to the house.
+
+"What is it, Eunice?" he asked, as he entered, seeing her
+fiercely quarreling with the doctors.  "Let me help you--advise
+you.  Poor child, you ought to be in bed."
+
+His kindly, assertive voice calmed her, and turning her sad eyes
+to him, she moaned, plaintively, "Don't let them do it--they
+mustn't do it."
+
+"Do what?  "Elliott turned to the doctors, and soon was listening
+to the whole strange story.
+
+"Certainly an autopsy!" he declared; "why, it's the only thing to
+do.  Hush, Eunice, make no further objection.  It's absolutely
+necessary.  Give your consent at once."
+
+Almost as if hypnotized, Eunice Embury gave her consent, and the
+two doctors went away together.
+
+"Tell me all about it," said Elliott; "all you know--"  And then
+he saw how weak and unnerved Eunice was, and he quickly added,
+"No, not now.  Go and lie down for a time--where's Miss Ames?"
+
+"Here," and Aunt Abby reappeared from her room.  "Yes, go and lie
+down, Eunice; Maggie has made up our rooms, and your bed is in
+order.  Go, dear child."
+
+"I don't want to," and Eunice's eyes looked unusually large and
+bright.  "I'm not the sort of woman who can cure everything by
+'lying down'!  I'd rather talk.  Mason, what happened to
+Sanford?"
+
+"I don't know, Eunice.  It's the strangest thing I ever heard of.
+If you want to talk, really, tell me what occurred last night.
+Did you two have a quarrel?"
+
+"Yes, we did--" Eunice looked defiant rather than penitent.  "But
+that couldn't have done it!  I mean, we didn't quarrel so
+violently that San burst a blood-vessel--or that sort of thing!"
+
+"Of course not; in that case the doctors would know.  That's the
+queerest thing to me.  A man dies, and two first-class physicians
+can't say what killed him!"
+
+"But what difference does it make, Mason?  I'm sure I don't care
+what he died of--I mean I don't want him all cut up to satisfy
+the curiosity of those inquisitive doctors!"
+
+"It isn't that, Eunice; they have to know the cause, to make out
+a death certificate."
+
+"Why do they have to make it out?  We all know he's dead."
+
+"The law requires it.  The Bureau of Vital Statistics must be
+notified and must be told the cause of death.  Try to realize
+that these matters are important--you cannot put your own
+personal preferences above them.  Leave it to me, Eunice; I'll
+take charge and look after all the details.  Poor old San--I
+can't realize it!  He was so big and strong and healthy.  And so
+full of life and vitality.  And, by Jove, Eunice, think of the
+election!"
+
+Though a warm friend of Embury, it was characteristic of Elliott
+that his thoughts should fly to the consequences of the tragic
+death outside the family circle.  He was silent as he realized
+that the removal of the other candidate left Alvord Hendricks the
+winner in the race for president of the club.
+
+That is, if the election should be held.  It was highly probable
+that it would be postponed--the club people ought to be notified
+at once--Hendricks ought to be told.
+
+"I say, Eunice, there's lots of things to do.  I think I ought to
+telephone the club, and several people.  Do you mind?"
+
+"No; of course not.  Do whatever is right, Mason.  I'm so glad to
+have you here, it takes a load of responsibility off of me.
+You're a tower of strength."
+
+"Then do what you can to help me, Eunice.  Try, won't you, to be
+quiet and calm.  Don't get so wrought up over these things that
+are unpleasant but unavoidable.  I don't underrate your grief or
+your peculiarly hard position.  The nervous shock is enough to
+make you ill--but try to control yourself--that's a goody girl."
+
+"I will, Mason.  Honest I will."
+
+Soon after noon Hendricks arrived.  He had returned from Boston
+on an early morning train, and hearing of the tragedy, came at
+once to the Embury home.
+
+At sight of his grave, sympathetic face, Eunice burst into tears,
+the first she had been able to shed, and they were a real relief
+to her overburdened heart.
+
+"Oh, Alvord," she cried, hysterically, "now you can be
+president!"
+
+"Hush, hush, Eunice, dear," he soothed her; "don't let's speak of
+that now.  I'm just in from Boston--I hurried over as soon as I
+heard.  Tell me, somebody--not you, Eunice--you tell me, Aunt
+Abby, how it happened."
+
+"That's the strange part," said Elliott, who was sitting at the
+telephone, and was, at the moment, waiting for a response to a
+call, "the doctors can't tell what ailed Sanford!"
+
+"What!  Can't tell what made him die!"
+
+"No;" Aunt Abby took up the tale, as Elliott turned hack to the
+telephone; "and I think it's very queer.  Did you ever know a
+man to die, Alvord, and nobody be able to tell what killed him?"
+
+"I certainly never did!  What had he eaten?"
+
+"Oh, it's nothing like that," Eunice spoke up; "it must be that
+something gave way--his heart, or lungs--"
+
+"Never!  Sanford was a sound as a dollar!"
+
+"That's what Dr. Harper says.  They're--they're going to have an
+autopsy."
+
+"Of course.  We'd never be satisfied without that.  They'll find
+the cause that way, of course.  Dear Eunice, I'm so sorry for
+you."
+
+"It's awful for Eunice," said Aunt Abby "the excitement and the
+mystery--oh, Alvord, do let me tell you what I saw!"
+
+"What?" he asked, with interest.
+
+"Why, it was almost dawn--just beginning to be daylight, and, you
+know--Dr. Harper says Sanford died about daybreak--he thinks--and
+I was sort of between asleep and awake--don't you know how you
+are like that sometimes--"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And I saw--"
+
+"Aunt Abby, if you're going to tell that yarn over again, I'll go
+away!  I can't stand it!"
+
+"Go on, Eunice," and Aunt Abby spoke gently.  "I wish you would
+go to your room and lie down for awhile.  Even if you don't want
+to, it will rest your nerves."
+
+To her surprise, Eunice rose and without a word went to her own
+room.
+
+Aunt Abby sent Maggie to look after her, and resumed her story.
+
+"I'm going to tell you, Alvord, for I must tell somebody, and
+Eunice won't listen, and Mason is busy telephoning--he's been at
+it all day--off and on--"
+
+"Fire away, Aunt Abby, dear," Hendricks said.  He had small
+desire to hear her meandering tales, but he felt sorry for the
+pathetic face she showed and listened out of sheer charity.
+
+"Yes, it was near dawn, and I was sort of dozing but yet, awake,
+too--and I heard a step--no, not a step, just a sort of gliding
+footfall, like a person shufing in slippers.
+
+"And then, I saw a vague shadowy shape--like Sanford's--and it
+passed slowly through the room--not stepping, more like floating
+--and it stopped right at my bedside, and leaned over me--"
+
+"You saw this!"
+
+"Well, it was so dark, I can't say I saw it--but I was--I don't
+know how to describe it--I was conscious of its presence, that's
+all!"
+
+"And you think it was Sanford's ghost?"
+
+"Don't put it that way, Al.  It was Sanford's spirit, leaving the
+earth, and bidding me good-by as it wafted past."
+
+"Why didn't he bid his wife good-by?"  Hendricks was blunt, but
+he deemed it best to speak thus, rather than to encourage the
+ghost talk.
+
+"He probably tried to, but Eunice must have been asleep.  I don't
+know as to that--but, you know, Alvord, it is not an uncommon
+thing for such experiences to happen--why, there are thousands of
+authenticated cases--"
+
+"Authenticated fiddlesticks!"
+
+"Your scorn doesn't alter the truth.  I saw him, I tell you, and
+it was not a dream, or my imagination.  I really saw him, though
+dimly."
+
+"What did he have on?"
+
+"That's the queer part.  Not his usual clothes, but that sort of
+a jersey he wears when he's doing his exercise."
+
+"Oh, his gym suit?  You saw it plainly?"
+
+"Not so very plainly--but--I felt it!"
+
+"Felt it!  What are you talking about?"
+
+"I did, I tell you.  He leaned over me, and I put out my hand and
+touched his arm, and I--I think I felt a tight woolen jersey
+sleeve."
+
+"Oh, you think you did!  Well, that's all right, then, but you
+mustn't say you felt a ghost.  They're not material, you know."
+
+"You're making fun of me, Alvord, but you mustn't.  I know more
+about these things than you do.  Why shouldn't I?  I've made a
+study of them--I've read lots of books, and been to lots of
+seances, and lectures--oh, I know it was a manifestation of San
+himself!"
+
+"Well, Aunt Abby, if it gives you any comfort to think it was,
+why, just keep right on thinking.  I don't say there aren't such
+happenings.  I only say I don't believe there are.  I don't doubt
+your word, you understand, but I can't make my hard common sense
+take it in.  My mind isn't built that way.  Did you hear
+anything?"
+
+"I heard--" Aunt Abby paused, and blushed a little--"you'll
+laugh, I know, but I heard--his watch ticking!"
+
+"Oh, come now, Aunt Abby, that's a little too much!  I can't help
+smiling at that!  For I'm sure ghosts don't carry watches, and
+anyway not in a gymnasium suit!"
+
+"I knew you'd jeer at it, but I did hear the ticking, all the
+same."
+
+"Wasn't your own watch under your pillow?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Oh, all right.  I haven't a word to say."
+
+"But it wasn't any watch I heard--it was a different sort of
+tick."
+
+"Yes, of course it was.  Ghosts' watches have a peculiar tick of
+their own--"
+
+"Alvord, stop!  It's mean of you to poke fun at me!"
+
+"Forgive me, do; I apologize.  It was mean, and I'll stop.  What
+else happened?"
+
+"Nothing," Aunt Abby was clearly piqued.
+
+"Yes, tell me.  What became of the--the figure?"
+
+"Why, it disappeared.  Gradually you know--just seemed to float
+away into nothingness."
+
+"He gave you no message?"
+
+"Not in words, no.  They rarely do.  But the appearance, the
+visibility is the usual way of manifestation.  I'm glad it
+occurred.  Oh, I'm awfully sorry Sanford is dead--I didn't mean
+that but, since he had to go, I'm glad he bade me good-by,
+as he passed on."
+
+"Well, I'm glad, too, if it is any comfort to you.  Are you sure
+Eunice had no such experience?"
+
+"Oh, no--if she had she'd have told me.  She hates all such
+ideas.  I suppose if she had seen Sanford--as I did--she would
+have become a believer--but I'm sure she didn't."
+
+"Poor Eunice.  She is terribly broken up."
+
+"Yes, of course.  They were so devoted.  They had a tiff now and
+then, but that was because of Eunice's quick temper.  She flares
+up so easily," Aunt Abby sighed.  "San couldn't manage her at
+times."
+
+"I know.  Poor girl, I don't blame her for those spasms of rage.
+She can't help it, you know.  And she's improving every day."
+
+"That's what Sanford said.  He thought he helped her, and I dare
+say he did.  But sometimes he had to speak pretty sharply to her.
+Just as one would to a naughty child."
+
+"That's what she is, bless her heart!  Just a naughty child.  We
+must be very considerate of her now, Aunt Abby, mustn't we?"
+
+"Yes, indeed.  She is sorely to be pitied.  She adored Sanford.
+I don't know what she will do."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+THE EXAMINER
+
+
+When after the autopsy, Dr. Harper announced that it was
+necessary to send for the Medical Chief Examiner, Eunice cried
+out, "Why, what do you mean?  He's the same as a Coroner!"
+
+"He takes the place of the Coroner, nowadays," rejoined Harper,
+"and in Dr. Marsden's opinion his attendance is necessary."
+
+"Do you mean Sanford was murdered?"
+
+Eunice whispered, her face white and drawn.
+
+"We can't tell, Mrs. Embury.  It is a most unusual case.  There
+is absolutely no indication of foul play, but, on the other hand,
+there is no symptom or condition that tells the reason of his
+death.  That is your finding, Dr. Marsden?"
+
+"Yes," agreed the other.  "Mr. Embury died because of a sudden
+and complete paralysis of respiration and circulation.  There is
+nothing we can find to account for that and by elimination of all
+other possible causes we are brought to the consideration of
+poison.  Not any known or evident poison, but a subtle,
+mysteriously administered toxic agent of some sort--"
+
+"You must be crazy!" and Eunice faced him with scornful glance
+and angry eyes.  "Who would poison my husband?  How could any one
+get at him to do it?  Why would they, anyway?"
+
+Dr. Marsden looked at her curiously.  "Those questions are not
+for me, madame," he said, a little curtly.  "I shall call
+Examiner Crowell, and he will take charge of the case."
+
+"He's the same as a coroner!  I won't have him!" Eunice declared.
+
+"It isn't for you to say," Dr. Marsden was already at the
+telephone.  "The course of events makes it imperative that I
+should call Dr. Crowell.  He is not a coroner.  He is, of course,
+a Civil Service appointee, and as such, in authority.  You will
+do whatever he directs."
+
+Eunice Embury was silent from sheer astonishment.  Never before
+had she been talked to like this.  Accustomed to dictate, to give
+orders, to have her lightest word obeyed, she was dumfounded at
+being overruled in this fashion.
+
+The men took in the situation more clearly.
+
+"Medical Examiner!" exclaimed Hendricks.  "Is it a case for him?"
+
+"Yes," returned Marsden, gravely.  "At least, it is a very
+mysterious death.  Mystery implies wrong--of some sort.  Had Mr.
+Embury been a man with a weak heart, or any affected organ, I
+should have been able to make a satisfactory diagnosis.  But his
+sound, perfect condition precludes any reason for this sudden
+death.  It must be looked into.  It may be the Examiner will find
+a simple, logical cause, but I admit I can find none--and I am
+not inexperienced."
+
+"But if he were poisoned," began Hendricks, "as you have implied,
+surely, you could find some trace."
+
+"That's just the point," agreed Marsden.  "I certainly think I
+could.  And, since I can't, I feel it my duty to report it as a
+mysterious and, to me, inexplicable death."
+
+"You're right," said Elliott.  "If you can't find the cause, for
+heaven's sake get somebody who can!  I don't for a minute believe
+it's a murder, but the barest suspicion of such a thing must be
+set at rest once and for all!  Murder!  Ridiculous!  But get the
+Examiner, by all means!"
+
+So Eunice's continued objections were set aside and Dr. Crowell
+was called in.
+
+A strange little man the Examiner proved to be.  He had sharp,
+bird-like eyes, that darted from one person to another, and
+seemed to read their very thoughts.  On his entrance, he went
+straight to Eunice, and took her hand.
+
+"Mrs. Embury?  "he said, positively, rather than interrogatively.
+"Do not fear me, ma'am.  I want to help you, not annoy you."
+
+Impressed by his magnetic manner and his encouraging handclasp,
+Eunice melted a little and her look of angry scorn changed to a
+half-pleased expression of greeting.
+
+"Miss Ames--my aunt," she volunteered, as Dr. Crowell paused
+before Aunt Abby.
+
+And then the newcomer spoke to the two doctors already present,
+was introduced to Elliott and Hendricks, who were still there,
+and in a very decided manner took affairs into his own hands.
+
+"Yes, yes," he chattered on; "I will help you, Mrs. Embury.  Now,
+Dr. Harper, this is your case, I understand?  Dr. Marsden--yours,
+too?  Yes, yes--mysterious, you say?  Maybe so--maybe so.  Let us
+proceed at once."
+
+The little man stood, nervously teetering up and down on his
+toes, almost like a schoolboy preparing to speak a piece.
+"Now--if you please--now--" he looked eagerly toward the other
+doctors.
+
+They all went into Embury's room and closed the door.
+
+Then Eunice's temporary calm forsook her.
+
+"It's awful!" she cried.  "I don't want them to bother poor
+Sanford.  Why can't they let him alone?  I don't care what killed
+him!  He's dead, and no doctors can help that!  Oh, Alvord, can't
+you make them let San alone?"
+
+"No, Eunice; it has to be.  Keep quiet, dear.  It can do no good
+for you to get all wrought up, and if you'd go and lie down--"
+
+"For heaven's sake, stop telling me to go and lie down!  If one
+more person says that to me I shall just perfectly fly!"
+
+"Now, Eunice," began Aunt Abby, "it's only 'for your own good,
+dear.  You are all excited and nervous--"
+
+"Of course, I am!  Who wouldn't be?  Mason," she looked around at
+the concerned faces, "I believe you understand me best.  You know
+I don't want to go and lie down, don't you?"
+
+"Stay where you are, child," Elliott smiled kindly at her.  "Of
+course, you're nervous and upset--all you can do is to try to
+hold yourself together--and don't try that too hard, either--for
+you may defeat your own ends thereby.  Just wait, Eunice; sit
+still and wait."
+
+They all waited, and after what seemed an interminable time the
+Examiner reappeared and the other two doctors with him.
+
+"Well, well," Crowell began, his restless hands twisting
+themselves round each other.  "Now, be quiet, Mrs. Embury--I
+declare, I don't know how to say what I have to say, if you sit
+there like a chained tiger--"
+
+"Go on!" Eunice now seemed to usurp something of Crowell's own
+dictatorship.  "Go on, Dr. Crowell!"
+
+"Well, ma'am, I will.  But there's not much to tell.  Our
+principal evidence is lack of evidence--"
+
+"What do you mean?  "cried Eunice.  "Talk English, please!"
+
+"I am doing so.  There is positively no evidence that Mr. Embury
+was poisoned, yet owing to the absolute lack of any hint of any
+other means of death, we are forced to the conclusion that he was
+poisoned."
+
+"By his own hand?" asked Hendricks, his face grave.
+
+"Probably not.  You see, sir, with no knowledge of how the poison
+was administered--with no suspicion of any reason for its being
+administered--we are working in the dark--"
+
+"I should say so!" exclaimed Elliott; "black darkness, I call it.
+Are you within your rights in assuming poison?"
+
+"Entirely; it has to be the truth.  No agent but a swift, subtle
+poison could have cut off the victim's life like that."
+
+Crowell was now walking up and down the room.  He was a restless,
+nervous man, and under stress of anxiety he became almost
+hysterical.
+
+"I don't know!" he cried out, as one in an extremity of
+uncertainty.  "It must be poison--it must have been--murder!"
+
+He pronounced the last word in a gasping way--as if afraid to
+suggest it but forced to do so.
+
+Hendricks looked at him with a slight touch of contempt in his
+glance, but seeing this, Dr. Harper interjected:
+
+"The Examiner is regretting the necessity of thrusting his
+convictions upon you, but he knows it must be done."
+
+"Yes," said Crowell, more decidedly now, "I have had cases before
+where murder was committed in such an almost undiscoverable way
+as this.  Never a case quite so mysterious, but nearly so."
+
+"What is your theory of the method?" asked Elliott, who was
+staggered by the rush of thoughts and conclusions made inevitable
+by the Examiner's report.
+
+"That's the greatest mystery of all," Crowell replied.  He was
+quite calm now--apparently it was concern for the family that had
+made him so disturbed.
+
+"Poison was not taken by way of the stomach, that is certain.
+Therefore, it must have been introduced through some other
+channel.  But we find no trace of a hypodermic needle--"
+
+"How utterly ridiculous!" Eunice exclaimed, her eyes blazing with
+scorn.  "How could any one get in to poison my husband?  Why, we
+lock all our doors at night--we always have."
+
+"Yes'm--exactly, ma'am," Crowell began, rubbing his hands again;
+"and now, please tell me of the locking up last night.  As usual,
+ma'am, as usual?"
+
+"Precisely.  Our sleeping rooms are those three," she pointed to
+the bedrooms.  "When they are locked, they form a unit by
+themselves, quite apart from the rest of the apartment."
+
+Dr. Crowell looked interested.
+
+The apartment faced on Park Avenue, and being on the corner had
+also windows on the side street.
+
+Front, enumerating from the corner and running south, were the
+dining-room, the large living-room, and the good-sized reception
+hall.
+
+Directly back of these, and with windows on a large court, were
+the three bedrooms, Eunice's in the middle, Sanford's back of the
+hall, and Aunt Abby's back of the dining-room.  Aunt Abby's room
+was ordinarily Eunice's boudoir and dressing-room, but was used
+as a guest chamber on occasion.
+
+These three bedrooms, as was shown to Examiner Crowell, when
+locked from the inside were shut off by themselves, although
+allowing free communication from one to another of them.
+
+"Lock with keys?" he asked.
+
+"No," Eunice replied.  "There are big, strong, snap-locks on the
+inside of the doors.  I mean locks that fasten themselves when
+you shut the door, unless you have previously put up the catch."
+
+"Yes, I see," and Crowell looked into the matter for himself.
+"Spring catches, and mighty strong ones, too.  And these were
+always fastened at night?"
+
+"Always," Eunice declared.  "Mr. Embury was not afraid of
+burglars, but it was his life-long habit to sleep with a locked
+door, and he couldn't get over it."
+
+"Then," and the bird-like little eyes darted from one to another
+of his listeners and paused at Aunt Abby; "then, Miss Ames, you
+were also locked in, each night with your niece and her husband,
+safe from intruders."
+
+"Yes," and Aunt Abby looked a little startled at being addressed.
+"I don't sleep with my door locked at home, and it bothered me at
+first.  But, you see, my room has no outlet except through Mrs.
+Embury's bedroom, so as the door between her room and mine was
+never locked, it really made little difference to me."
+
+"Oh, is that the way of it?" and Dr. Crowell rose in his hasty
+manner and dashed in at Eunice's door.  This, the middle room,
+opened on the right to the boudoir, and on the left to Embury's
+room.
+
+The latter door was closed, and Crowell turned toward the
+boudoir--now Aunt Abby's bedroom.  A small bed had been put up
+for her there, and the room was quite large enough to be
+comfortable.  It was luxuriously furnished and the appointments
+were quite in keeping with the dainty tastes of the mistress of
+the house.
+
+Crowell darted here and there about the room.  He looked out of
+the rear windows, which faced on the court; out of a window that
+faced on the side street, peeped into the bathroom, and then
+hurried back to Eunice's own room.  Here he observed the one
+large window, which was a triple bay, and which, of course,
+opened on the court.
+
+He glanced at Embury's closed door, and then returned to the
+living-room, and again faced his audience.
+
+"Nobody came in from the outside," he announced.  "The windows
+show a sheer drop of ten stories to the ground.  No balconies or
+fire-escapes.  So our problem resolves itself into two possibilities--
+Mr. Embury was given the poison by someone already inside those
+locked doors--or, the doors were not locked."
+
+The restless hands were still now.  The Examiner bore the aspect
+of a bomb-thrower who had exploded his missile and calmly awaited
+the result.  His darting eyes flew from face to face, as if he
+were looking for a criminal then and there.  He sat motionless
+--save for his constantly moving eyeballs--and for a moment no
+word was spoken by anyone.
+
+Then Eunice said, with no trace of anger or excitement, "You mean
+some intruder was concealed in there when we went to bed?"
+
+Crowell turned on her a look of undisguised admiration.  More, he
+seemed struck with a sudden joy of finding a possible loophole
+from the implication he had meant to convey.
+
+"I never thought of that," he said, slowly, piercing her with his
+intent gaze; "it may be.  But Mrs. Embury--in that case, where is
+the intruder now?  How did he get out?"
+
+"Rubbish!" cried Miss Ames, caustically.  "There never was any
+intruder--I mean, not in our rooms.  Ridiculous!  Of course, the
+doors were not locked--they were unintentionally left open--I
+don't believe they're locked half the time!--and your intruder
+came in through these other rooms."
+
+"Yes," agreed Hendricks; "that must have been the way of it.  Dr.
+Crowell, if you're sure this is a--a--oh, it isn't!  Who would
+kill Embury?  Your theory presupposes a motive.  What was it?
+Robbery?  Is anything missing?"
+
+Nobody could answer this question, and Ferdinand, as one familiar
+with his master's belongings was sent into the room of death to
+investigate.
+
+Unwillingly, and only after a repeated order, the man went.
+
+"No, ma'am," he said, on his return, addressing Eunice.  "None of
+Mr. Embury's things are gone.  All his pins and cuff-links are in
+their boxes and his watch is on the chiffonier where he always
+leaves it.
+
+"Then," resumed Hendricks, "what motive can you suggest, Dr.
+Crowell?"
+
+"It's not for me, sir, to go so far as that.  I see it this way:
+I'm positive that the man was killed by foul means.  I'm sure he
+was poisoned, though I can't say how.  I--you see, I haven't been
+Medical Examiner very long--and I never had such a hard duty to
+perform before.  But it is my duty and I must do it.  I must
+report to headquarters."
+
+"You shan't!" Eunice flew across the room and stood before him,
+her whole body quivering with intense rage.  "I forbid it!  I am
+Sanford Embury's wife, and as such I have rights that shall not
+be imposed upon!  I will have no police dragged into this matter.
+Were my husband really murdered--which, of course, he was not--I
+would rather never have the murderer discovered or punished, than
+to have the degradation, the horrors of--a police case!"
+
+The infinite scorn with which she brought out the last phrase
+showed her earnestness and her determination to have the matter
+pushed no further.
+
+But Examiner Crowell was by no means the inefficient little man
+he looked.  His eyes took on a new glitter, and narrowed as they
+looked at the angry woman before him.
+
+"I am sorry, Mrs. Embury," he said, gently, but with a strong
+decision in his tone, "but your wishes cannot be considered.  The
+law is inexorable.  The mystery of this case is deepened rather
+than lessened by your extraordinary behavior and I must--"
+
+But his brave manner quailed before the lightning of Eunice's
+eyes.
+
+"What!" she cried; "you defy me!  You will call the police
+against my desire--my command!  You will not, sir!  I forbid it!"
+
+Crowell looked at her with a new interest.  It would seem he had
+discovered a new species of humanity.  Doubtless he had never
+seen a woman like that in his previous experience.
+
+For Eunice was no shrew.  She did not, for a moment, lose her
+poise or her dignity.  Indeed, she was rather more imperious and
+dominating in her intense anger than when more serene.  But she
+carried conviction.  Both Elliott and Hendricks hoped and
+believed she could sway the Examiner to her will.
+
+Aunt Abby merely sat nodding her head, in corroboration of
+Eunice's speeches.  "Yes--yes--that's so!" she murmured,
+unheeding whether she were heard or not.
+
+The Examiner, however, paid little attention to the decrees of
+the angry woman.  He looked at Eunice, curiously, even
+admiringly, and then went across the room to the telephone.
+
+Eunice flew after him and snatched the instrument from his hand.
+
+"Stop!" she cried, fairly beside herself with fury.  "You shall
+not!"
+
+Both Elliott and Hendricks sprang from their chairs, and Dr.
+Harper rose to take care of Eunice as an irresponsible patient,
+but Crowell waved them all back.
+
+"Sit down, gentlemen," he said; "Mrs. Embury, think a minute.  If
+you act like that you will--you inevitably will--draw suspicion
+on yourself!"
+
+"I don't care!" she screamed; "better that than the--the
+publicity--the shame of a police investigation!  Oh, Sanford--my
+husband!"
+
+It was quite clear that uppermost in her disturbed mind was the
+dread of the disgrace of the police inquiry.  This had dulled her
+poignant grief, her horror, her sadness--all had been lost in the
+immediate fear of the impending unpleasantness.
+
+"And, too," the Examiner went on, coldly, "It is useless for you
+to rant around like that!  I'll simply go to another telephone."
+
+Eunice stepped back and looked at him, more in surprise than
+submission.  To be told that she was "ranting around" was not the
+way in which she was usually spoken to!  Moreover, she realized
+it was true, that to jerk the telephone away from Dr. Crowell
+could not permanently prevent his sending his message.
+
+She tried another tack.
+
+"I beg your pardon, doctor," she said, and her expression was
+that of a sad and sorry child.  "You're right, I mustn't lose my
+temper so.  But, you know, I am under a severe mental strain--and
+something should be forgiven me--some allowance made for my
+dreadful position--"
+
+"Yes, ma'am--oh, certainly, ma'am--" Crowell was again nervous
+and restless.  He proved that he could withstand an angry woman
+far better than a supplicating one.  Eunice saw this and followed
+up her advantage.
+
+"And, so, doctor, try to appreciate how I feel--a newlymade
+widow--my husband dead, from some unknown cause, but which I know
+is not--murder," after a second's hesitation she pronounced the
+awful word clearly--"and you want to add to my terror and
+distress by calling in the police--of all things, the police!"
+
+"Yes, ma'am, I know it's too bad--but, my duty, ma'am--"
+
+"Your duty is first, to me!" Eunice's smile was dazzling.  It had
+been a callous heart, indeed, that would not be touched by it!
+
+"To you, ma'am?"  The Examiner's tone was innocence itself.
+
+"Yes," Eunice faltered, for she began to realize she was not
+gaining ground.  "You owe me the--don't they call it the benefit
+of the doubt?"
+
+"What doubt, ma'am?"
+
+"Why, doubt as to murder.  If my husband died a natural death you
+know there's no reason to call the police.  And as you're not
+sure, I claim that you must give me the benefit of your doubt and
+not call them."
+
+"Now, ma'am, you don't put that just right.  You see, the police
+are the people who must settle that doubt.  It's that very doubt
+that makes it necessary to call them.  And, truly, Mrs. Ernbury,
+it won't be any such horrible ordeal as you seem to anticipate.
+They're decent men, and all they want to get at is the truth."
+
+"That isn't so!" Eunice was angry again.  "They're horrible men!
+rude, unkempt, low-down, common men!  I won't have them in my
+house!  You have no right to insist on it.  They'll be all over
+the rooms, prying into everything, looking here, there and all
+over!  They'll ask impertinent questions; they'll assume all
+sorts of things that aren't true, and they'll wind up by coming
+to a positively false conclusion!  Alvord, Mason, you're my
+friends--help me out!  Don't, let this man do as he threatens!"
+
+"Listen, Eunice," Elliott said, striving to quiet her; "we can't
+help the necessity Dr. Crowell sees of notifying the police.  But
+we can help you.  Only, however, if you'll be sensible, dear, and
+trust to our word that it can't be helped, and you must let it go
+on quietly."
+
+"Oh, hush up, Mason; your talk drives me crazy!  Alvord, are you
+a broken reed, too?  Is there nobody to stand by me?"
+
+"I'll try," and Hendricks went and spoke to Dr. Crowell in low
+tones.  A whispered colloquy followed, but it soon became clear
+that Hendricks' pleas, of whatever nature, were unsuccessful, and
+he returned to Eunice's side.
+
+"Nothing doing," he said, with an attempt at lightness.  "He
+won't listen to reason--nor to bribery and corruption--" this
+last was said openly and with a smile that robbed the idea of any
+real seriousness.
+
+And then Dr. Crowell again lifted the telephone and called up
+Headquarters.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+HAMLET
+
+
+Of the two detectives who arrived in response to the Examiner's
+call, one almost literally fulfilled Eunice's prophecy of a rude,
+unkempt, common man.  His name was Shane and he strode into the
+room with a bumptious, self-important air, his burly frame
+looking especially awkward and unwieldy in the gentle
+surroundings.
+
+His companion, however, a younger man named Driscoll, was of a
+finer type, and showed at least an appreciation of the nature of
+the home which he had entered.
+
+"We're up from the homicide bureau," Shane said to Dr. Crowell,
+quite ignoring the others present.  "Tell us all you know."
+
+In the fewest possible words the Medical Examiner did this, and
+Shane paid close attention.
+
+Driscoll listened, too, but his glance, instead of being fixed on
+the speaker, darted from one to another of the people sitting
+round.
+
+He noted carefully Eunice's beautiful, angry face, as she sat,
+looking out of a window, disdaining any connection with the
+proceedings.  He watched Miss Ames, nervously rolling her
+handkerchief into a ball and shaking it out again; Mason Elliott,
+calm, grave, and earnestly attentive; Alvord Hendricks, alert,
+eager, sharply critical.
+
+And in the background, Ferdinand, the well-trained butler,
+hovering in the doorway.
+
+All these things Driscoll studied, for his method was judging
+from the manners of individuals, whereas, Shane gathered his
+conclusions from their definite statements.
+
+And, having listened to Dr. Crowell's account, Shane turned to
+Eunice and said bluntly, "You and your husband good friends?"
+
+Eunice gasped.  Then, after one scathing glance, she deliberately
+turned back to the window, and neglected to answer.
+
+"That won't do, ma'am," said Shane, in his heavy voice, which was
+coarse and uncultured but not intentionally rude.  "I'm here to
+ask questions and you people have got to answer 'em.  Mebbe I can
+put it different.  Was you and Mr. Embury on good terms?"
+
+"Certainly."  The word was forced from Eunice's scornful lips,
+and accompanied by an icy glance meant to freeze the detective,
+but which utterly failed.
+
+"No rows or disagreements, eh?  "Shane's smile was unbearable,
+and Eunice turned and faced him like an angry thing at bay.
+
+"I forbid you to speak to me," she said, and looked at Shane as
+if he were some miserable, crawling reptile.  "Mason, will you
+answer this man for me?"
+
+"No, no, lady," Shane seemed to humor her.  "I must get your own
+word for it.  Don't you want me to find out who killed your
+husband?  Don't you want the truth known?  Are you afraid to have
+it told?  Hey?"
+
+Shane's secret theory was that of a sort of third degree applied
+at the very beginning often scared people into a quick confession
+of the truth and saved time in the long run.
+
+Driscoll knew of this and did not approve.
+
+"Let up, Shane," he muttered; "this is no time for such talk.
+You don't know anything yet."
+
+"Go ahead, you," returned Shane, not unwillingly, and Driscoll
+did.
+
+"Of course we must ask questions, Mrs. Embury," he said, and his
+politeness gained him a hearing from Eunice.
+
+She looked at him with, at least, toleration, as he began to
+question her.
+
+"When did you last see Mr. Embury alive, ma'am?"
+
+"Last night," replied Eunice, "about midnight, when we retired."
+
+"He was in his usual health and spirits?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You have two bedrooms?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Door between?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Open or shut--after you said good-night to Mr. Embury?"
+
+"Closed."
+
+"Locked?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Who shut it."
+
+"Mr. Embury."
+
+"Bang it?"
+
+"Sir?"
+
+"Did he bang it shut?  Slam it?"
+
+"Mr. Embury was a gentleman."
+
+"Yes, I know.  Did he slam that door?"
+
+"N--, no."
+
+"He did," and Driscoll nodded his head, as if not minding
+Eunice's stammered denial, but not believing it, either.
+
+"Now, as he closed that door with a bang, ma'am, I gather that
+you two had a--well, say, a little tiff--a quarrel.  Might as
+well own up, ma'am,--it'll come out, and it's better you should
+tell me the truth."
+
+"I am not accustomed to telling anything else!" Eunice declared,
+holding herself together with a very evident effort.  "Mr. Embury
+and I had a slight difference of opinion, but not enough to call
+a quarrel."
+
+"What about?" broke in Shane, who had been listening intently.
+
+Eunice did not speak until Elliott advised her.  "Tell all
+Eunice--it is the best way."
+
+"We had a slight discussion," Eunice said, "but it was earlier in
+the evening.  We had spent the evening out--Mr. Embury at his
+club, and I at the house of a friend.  We came home together--Mr.
+Embury called for me in our own car.  On reaching home, we had no
+angry words--and as it was late, we retired at once.  That is
+all.  Mr. Embury closed the door between our bedrooms, and that
+is the last I ever saw of him until--this morning--"
+
+She did not break down, but she seemed to think she had told all
+and she ceased speaking.
+
+"And then he was dead," Shane mused.  "What doctor did you call?"
+
+Dr. Crowell took up the narrative and told of Dr. Harper and Dr.
+Marsden, who were not now present.  He told further of the
+mysterious and undiscoverable cause of the death.
+
+"Let me see him," said Shane, rising suddenly.
+
+Most of this man's movements were sudden--and as he was in every
+respect awkward and uncouth, Eunice's dislike of him grew
+momentarily.
+
+"Isn't he dreadful!" she cried, as the two detectives and the
+Medical Examiner disappeared into Embury's room.
+
+"Yes," agreed Hendricks, "but, Eunice, you must not antagonize
+him.  It can't do any good--and it may do harm."
+
+"Harm?  How?" and Eunice turned her big, wondering eyes on
+Hendrick.
+
+"Oh, it isn't wise to cross a man like that.  He's a common clod,
+but he represents authority--he represents the law, and we must
+respect that fact, however his personal manner offends us."
+
+"All right, Alvord, I understand; but there's no use in my seeing
+him again.  Can't you and Mason settle up things and let Aunt
+Abby and me go to our rooms?"
+
+"No, Eunice," Hendricks' voice was grave.  "You must stay here.
+And, too, they will go through your room, searching."
+
+"My room!  My bedroom!  They shan't!  I won't have it!  Mason,
+must I submit to such horrible things?"
+
+"Now, Eunice, dear," Mason Elliott spoke very gently, "we can't
+blink matters.  We must face this squarely.  The police think
+Sanford was murdered.  They're endeavoring to find out who killed
+him.  To do their duty in the matter they have to search
+everywhere.  It's the law, you know, and we can't get away from
+it.  So, try to take it as quietly as you can."
+
+"Oh, my!  oh, my!" wailed Aunt Abby; "that I should live to see
+this day!  A murder in my own family!  No wonder poor Sanford's
+troubled spirit paused in its passing to bid me farewell."
+
+Eunice shrieked.  "Aunt Abby, if you start up that talk, I shall
+go stark, staring mad!  Hush!  I won't have it!"
+
+"Let up on the spook stuff, Miss Ames," begged Hendricks.  "Our
+poor Eunice is just about at the end of her rope."
+
+"So am I!" cried Aunt Abby.  "I'm entitled to some consideration!
+Here's the whole house turned upside down with a murder and
+police and all that, and nobody considers me!  It's all Eunice!"
+Then, with a softened voice, she added, "And Lord knows, she's
+got enough to bear!"
+
+"Yes, I have!" Eunice was composed again, now.  "But I can bear
+it.  I'm not going to collapse!  Don't be afraid for me.  And I
+do consider you, Aunt Abby.  It's dreadful for you--for both of
+us."
+
+Eunice crossed the room and sat by the cider lady, and they
+comforted one another.
+
+Shane came back to the living-room.
+
+"Here's the way it is," he said, gruffly.  "Those three bedrooms
+all open into each other; but when their doors that open out into
+these here other rooms are locked they're quite shut off by
+themselves, and nobody can get into 'em.  Now that last room, the
+one the old lady sleeps in, that don't have a door except into
+Mrs. Embury's room.  What I'm gettin' at is, if Mr. and Mrs.
+Embury's room doors is locked--not meanin' the door between--then
+those three people are locked in there every night, and can't get
+out or in, except through those two locked doors.
+
+"Well, this morning--where's that butler man?"
+
+"Here, sir," and Ferdinand appeared promptly, and with his usual
+correct demeanor.
+
+"Yes, you.  Now, this morning, those two doors to the sleeping
+rooms was locked, I understand?"
+
+"Yes, sir.  They were."
+
+"Usually--what happens?"
+
+"What--what happens, sir?"
+
+"Yes; what's your first duty in the morning?  Does Mr. Embury
+call you--or ring for you?"
+
+"Oh, that, sir.  Why, generally Mr. Embury unlocked his door
+about eight o'clock--"
+
+"And you went to help him dress?"
+
+"No, sir.  Mr. Embury didn't require that.  I valeted his
+clothes, like, and kept them in order, but he dressed by himself.
+I took him some tea and toast--he had that before the regular
+breakfast--"
+
+"And this morning--when he didn't ring or make any sound, what
+did you do?"
+
+"I waited a little while and then I rapped at Mrs. Embury's
+door."
+
+"Yes; and she--now, be careful, man--" Shane's voice was
+impressive.  "How did she act?  Unusual, or frightened in any
+way?"
+
+"Not a bit, sir.  Mrs. Embury was surprised, and when I said Mr.
+Embury didn't answer my knock, she let me go through her room to
+his."
+
+"Exactly.  And then you found your master dead?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Now-what is your name?"
+
+"Ferdinand."
+
+"Yes.  Now, Ferdinand, you know Mr. and Mrs. Embury had a quarrel
+last night."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+The trap had worked!  Shane had brought about the admission from
+the servant that Eunice had refused to make.  A smile of
+satisfaction settled on his ugly features, as he nodded his head
+and went on.
+
+"At what time was this?"
+
+"Ferdinand, be quiet," said Eunice, her own voice low and even,
+but her face was ablaze with wrath.  "You know nothing of such
+things!"
+
+"That's right, sir, I don't."
+
+Clearly, the butler, restored to his sense of the
+responsibilities of his position, felt he had made a misstep and
+regretted it.
+
+"Be quiet, madam!" Shane hurled at Eunice, and turning to the
+frightened Ferdinand, said:  "You tell the truth, or you'll go to
+jail!  At what time was this quarrel that you have admitted
+took place?"
+
+Eunice stood, superbly indifferent, looking like a tragedy queen.
+"Tell him, Ferdinand; tell all you know, but tell only the
+truth."
+
+"Yes, ma'am.  Yes, sir; why, it was just before they went out."
+
+"Ah, before.  Did they go out together?"
+
+"No, sir.  Mrs. Embury went later--by herself."
+
+"I told you that!" Eunice interposed.  "I gave you a detailed
+account of the evening."
+
+"You omitted the quarrel.  What was it about?"
+
+"It was scarcely important enough to call a quarrel.  My husband
+and I frequently disagreed on trifling matters.  We were both a
+little short-tempered, and often had altercations that were
+forgotten as soon as they occurred."
+
+
+"And that's true," put in Miss Ames.  "For two people who loved
+each other to distraction, I often thought the Emburys were the
+most quarrelsome I ever saw."
+
+Shane looked sharply at the old lady.  "Is that so?" he said.
+"Did you hear this particular quarrel, ma'am?"
+
+"Not that I remember.  If I did, I didn't take' much notice of
+it."
+
+"What was it about?"
+
+"Oh, the same old subject.  Mrs. Embury wanted--"
+
+"Aunt Abby, hush!  What are you talking about!  Leave me to tell
+my own secrets, pray!"
+
+"Secrets, ma'am?" Shane's cold blue eyes glistened.  "Who's
+talking of secrets?"
+
+"Nobody," offered Hendricks.  "Seems to me, Shane, you're trying
+to frighten two nervous women into a confession--"
+
+"Who said anything about a confession?  What's to be confessed?
+Who's made any accusations?"
+
+Hendricks was silent.  He didn't like the man Shane at all, but
+he saw plainly that he was a master of his craft, and depended on
+his sudden and startling suggestions to rouse antagonism or fear
+and so gather the facts he desired.
+
+"I'm asking nobody's secrets," he went on, "except in so far as
+I'm obliged to, by reason of my duty.  And in that connection,
+ma'am, I ask you right here and now, what you meant by your
+reference to secrets?"
+
+Eunice looked at him a moment in silence.  Then she said, "You
+have, I daresay, a right to ask that.  And I've not the least
+objection to answering.  Mr. Embury was the kindest of husbands,
+but it did not suit his ideas to give me what is known as an
+allowance.  This in no way reflects on his generosity, for he
+insisted that I should have a charge account at any shops I
+wished.  But, because of a whim, I often begged that I be given a
+stated and periodical allowance.  This, I have no reason for not
+admitting, was the cause of most of our so-called 'quarrels.'
+This is what I should prefer to keep 'secret' but not if it is
+for any reason a necessary admission."
+
+Shane looked at her in undisguised admiration.
+
+"Fine!" he ejaculated, somewhat cryptically.  "And you quarreled
+about this last night?"
+
+"Last evening, before we went out."
+
+"Not after you came home?"
+
+"No; the subject was not then mentioned."
+
+"H'm.  And you two were as friendly as ever?  No coolness--sorta
+left over, like?"
+
+"No!" Eunice spoke haughtily, but the crimson flood that rose to
+her cheeks gave the lie to her words.
+
+Driscoll came in.
+
+"I've found out what killed Mr. Embury," he said, in his quiet
+fashion.
+
+"What?" cried the Examiner and Shane, at the same time.
+
+"Can't tell you--just yet.  I'll have to go out on an errand.
+Stay here--all of you--till I get back."
+
+The dapper little figure disappeared through the hall door, and
+Shane turned back to the group with a grunt of satisfaction.
+
+"That's Driscoll, all over," he said.  "Put him on a case, and he
+don't say much, and he don't look like he's doing anything, and
+then all in a minute he'll bring in the goods."
+
+"I'd be glad to hear the cause of that death," said Dr. Crowell,
+musingly.  "I'm an old, experienced practitioner, and I've never
+seen anything so mysterious.  There's absolutely no trace of any
+poison, and yet it can be nothing else."
+
+"Poison's a mighty sly proposition," observed Shane.  "A clever
+poisoner can put over a big thing."
+
+"Perhaps your assumption of murder is premature," said Hendricks,
+and he gave Shane a sharp look.
+
+"Maybe," and that worthy nodded his head.  "But I'm still
+standing pat.  Now, here's the proposition.  Three people, locked
+into a suite--you may say--of three rooms.  No way of getting in
+from this side--those locks are heavy brass snap-catches that
+can't be worked from outside.  No way, either, of getting in at
+the windows.  Tenth-story apartment, and the windows look
+straight down to the ground, no balconies or anything like that.
+Unless an aryoplane let off its passengers, nobody could get in
+the windows.  Well, then, we have those three people shut up
+alone there all night.  In the morning one of 'em is dead
+--poisoned.  What's the answer?"
+
+He stared at Eunice as he talked.  It was quite evident he meant
+to frighten her--almost to accuse her.
+
+But with her strange contradictoriness, she smiled at him.
+
+"You have stated a problem, Mr. Shane, to which there can be no
+answer.  Therefore, that is not the problem that confronts us."
+
+"Fine talk--fine talk, lady, but it won't get you anywhere.  To
+the unbiased, logical mind, the answer must be that it's the work
+of the other two people."
+
+"Then yours is not a logical or unbiased mind," Hendricks flared
+out, "and I object to your making implications.  If you are
+making accusations, do so frankly, and let us know where we stand!
+If not, shut up!"
+
+Shane merely looked at him, without resenting this speech.  The
+detective appeared to be marking time as he awaited the return of
+his partner.
+
+And Driscoll returned, shortly.  His manner betokened success in
+his quest, whatever it may have been, and yet he looked
+distressed, too.
+
+"It's a queer thing," he said, half to himself, as he fell into a
+chair Shane pushed toward him.  "Mrs. Embury, do you keep an
+engagement book?"
+
+"Why, yes," replied Eunice, amazed at the question put to her.
+
+"Let me see it, please."
+
+Eunice went for it, and, returning, handed the detective a finely
+bound volume.
+
+Hastily he ran over the dates, looking at notes of parties,
+concerts and theatres she had attended recently.  At last, he
+gave a start, read over one entry carefully, and closed the book.
+
+Abruptly, then, he went back to Embury's room, asking Dr. Crowell
+to go with him.
+
+When they reappeared, it was plain to be seen the mystery was
+solved.
+
+"There is no doubt," said the Medical Examiner, "that Sanford
+Embury met his death by foul play.  The means used was the
+administering of poison--through the ear!"
+
+"Through the ear!" repeated Elliott, as one who failed to grasp
+the sense of the words.
+
+"Yes; it is a most unusual, almost a unique case, but it is
+proved beyond a doubt.  The poison was inserted in Mr. Embury's
+ear, by means--"
+
+He paused, and Driscoll held up to view a small, ordinary glass
+medicine dropper, with a rubber bulb top.  In it still remained a
+portion of a colorless liquid.
+
+"By means of this," Driscoll declared.  "This fluid is henbane
+--that is the commercial name of it--known to the profession,
+however, as hyoscyamus or hyoscyamine.  This little implement, I
+found, in the medicine chest in Miss Ames' bathroom "
+
+"No! no!" screamed Aunt Abby.  "I never saw it before!"
+
+"I don't think you did," said Driscoll, quietly.  "But here is a
+side light on the subject.  This henbane was used, in this very
+manner, we are told, in Shakespeare's works, by Hamlet's uncle,
+when he poisoned Hamlet's father.  He used, the play says,
+distilled hebenon, supposed to be another form of the word
+henbane.  And this is what is, perhaps, important: Mrs. Embury's
+engagement book shows that about a week ago she attended the play
+of Hamlet.  The suggestion there received--the presence of
+this dropper, still containing the stuff, the finding of
+traces of henbane in the ear of the dead man--seem to lead to a
+conclusion--"
+
+"The only possible conclusion!  It's an openand--shut case!"
+cried Shane, rising, and striding toward Eunice.  "Mrs. Embury, I
+arrest you for the wilful murder of your husband!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+A CONFESSION
+
+
+"Don't you dare touch me!" Eunice Embury cried, stepping back
+from the advancing figure of the burly detective.  "Go out of my
+house--Ferdinand, put this person out!"
+
+The butler appeared in the doorway, but Shane waved a dismissing
+hand at him.
+
+"No use blustering, Mrs. Embury," he said, gruffly, but not
+rudely.  "You'd better come along quietly, than to make such a
+fuss."
+
+"I shall make whatever fuss I choose--and I shall not 'come
+along,' quietly or any other way!  I am not intimidated by your
+absurd accusations, and I command you once more to leave my
+house, or I will have you thrown out!"
+
+Eunice's eyes blazed with anger, her voice was not loud, but was
+tense with concentrated rage, and she stood, one hand clenching a
+chair-back while with the other she pointed toward the door.
+
+"Be quiet, Eunice," said Mason Elliott, coming toward her; "you
+can't dismiss an officer of the law like that.  But you can
+demand an explanation.  I think, Shane, you are going too fast.
+You haven't evidence enough against Mrs. Embury to think of
+arrest!  Explain yourself!"
+
+"No explanation necessary.  She killed her husband, and she's my
+prisoner."
+
+"Hush up, Shane; let me talk," interrupted Driscoll, whose calmer
+tones carried more authority than those of his rough partner.
+
+"It's this way, Mr. Elliott.  I'm a detective, and I saw at once,
+that if the doctors couldn't find the cause of Mr. Embury's
+death, it must be a most unusual cause.  So I hunted for some
+clue or some bit of evidence pointing to the manner of his death.
+Well, when I spied that little medicine dropper, half full of
+something, I didn't know what, but--"  Here he paused impressively.
+"But there was no bottle or vial of anything in the cupboard, from
+which it could have been taken.  There was no fluid in there that
+looked a bit like the stuff in the dropper.  So I thought that
+looked suspicious--as if some one had hidden it there.  I didn't
+see the whole game then, but I went around to a druggist's and
+asked him what was in that dropper.  And he said henbane.  He
+further explained that henbane is the common name for hyoscyamin,
+which is a deadly poison.  Now, the doctors were pretty sure that
+Mr. Embury had not been killed by anything taken into the stomach,
+so I thought a minute, and, like a flash, I remembered the play
+of 'Hamlet' that I saw last week.
+
+"I guess everybody in New York went to see it--the house was
+crowded.  Anyway, I've proved by Mrs. Embury's engagement book
+that she went--one afternoon, to a matinee--and what closer or
+more indicative hint do you want?  In that play, the murder is
+fully described, and though many people might think poison could
+not be introduced through the intact ear in sufficient quantity
+to be fatal, yet it can be--and I read an article lately in a
+prominent medical journal saying so.  I was interested, because
+of the Hamlet play.  If I hadn't seen that, I'd never thought of
+this whole business.  But, if I'm wrong, let Mrs. Embury explain
+the presence of that dropper in her medicine chest."
+
+"I don't know anything about the thing!  I never saw or heard of
+it before!  I don't believe you found it where you say you did!"
+Eunice faced him with an accusing look.  "You put it there
+yourself--it's what you call a frame-up!  I know nothing of your
+old dropper!"
+
+"There, there, lady," Shane put in; "don't get excited--it only
+counts against you.  Mr. Driscoll, here, wouldn't have no reason
+to do such a thing as you speak of!  Why would he do that, now?"
+
+"But he must have done it," broke in Miss Ames.  "For I use that
+bathroom of Eunice's and that thing hasn't been in it, since I've
+been here."
+
+"Of course not," and Shane looked at her as at a foolish child;
+"why should it be?  The lady used it, and then put it away."
+
+"Hold on, there, Shane," Hendricks interrupted.  "Why would any
+one do such a positively incriminating thing as that?"
+
+"They always slip up somewhere," said Driscoll, "after committing
+a crime, your criminal is bound to do something careless, that
+gives it all away.  Mrs. Embury, how did that dropper get in that
+medicine chest in your bathroom?"
+
+"I scorn to answer!"  The cold tones showed no fear, no
+trepidation, but Eunice's white fingers interlaced themselves in
+a nervous fashion.
+
+"Do you know anything about it, Miss Ames?"
+
+"N--no," stammered Aunt Abby, trembling, as she looked now at the
+detectives and then at Eunice.
+
+"Well, it couldn't have put itself there," went on Driscoll.
+"Who else has access to that place?"
+
+Eunice gave no heed to this speech.  She gave no heed to the
+speaker, but stared at him, unseeingly, her gaze seeming to go
+straight through him.
+
+"Why, the maid," said Aunt Abby, with a helpless glance toward
+Elliott and Hendricks, as if beseeching assistance.
+
+"The servants must be considered," said Hendricks, catching at a
+straw.  "They may know something that will help."
+
+"Call the maid," said Shane, briefly, and, as neither of the
+women obeyed, he turned to Ferdinand, who hovered in the
+background, and thundered: "Bring her in--you!"
+
+Maggie appeared, shaken and frightened, but when questioned, she
+answered calmly and positively.
+
+"I put that dropper in the medicine closet," she said, and every
+one looked toward her.
+
+"Where did you get it?" asked Shane.
+
+"I found it--on the floor."
+
+"On the floor?  Where?"
+
+"Beside Miss Ames' bed."  The girl's eyes were cast down; she
+looked at nobody, but gave her answers in a dull, sing-song way,
+almost as if she had rehearsed them before.
+
+"When?"
+
+"This morning--when I made up her room."
+
+"Had you ever seen it before?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Why did you think it belonged to Miss Ames?"
+
+"I didn't think anything about it.  I found it there, and I
+supposed it belonged to Miss Ames, and I put it away."
+
+"Why did you put it in the medicine chest?"
+
+The girl looked up, surprised.
+
+"That seemed to me the proper place for it.  Whenever I find a
+bottle of camphor or a jar of cold cream--or anything like that
+--I always put it in the medicine chest.  That's where such
+things belong.  So I thought it was the right place for the
+little dropper.  Did I do wrong?"
+
+"No, Maggie," Driscoll said, kindly, "that was all right.  Now
+tell us exactly where you found it."
+
+"I did tell you.  On the floor, just beside Miss Ames' bed.  Near
+the head of the bed."
+
+"Well, Miss Ames--I guess it's up to you.  What were you doing
+with this thing?"
+
+"I didn't have it at all!  I never saw it before!"
+
+"Come, come, that won't do!  How could it get there?"
+
+"I don't know, but I didn't put it there."  The old lady trembled
+pitifully, and looked from one to another for help or guidance.
+
+"Of course, she didn't!" cried Eunice.  "You sha'n't torment my
+aunt!  Cease questioning her!  Talk to me if you choose--and as
+you choose--but leave Miss Ames alone!"
+
+She faced her inquisitors defiantly, and even Shane quailed a
+little before her scornful eyes.
+
+"Well, ma'am, as you see, I ain't got much choice in the matter.
+Here's the case.  You and your aunt and Mr. Embury was shut in
+those three rooms.  Nobody else could get in.  Come morning, the
+gentleman is dead--murdered.  One of you two done it.  It's for
+us to find out which--unless the guilty party sees fit to
+confess."
+
+"I do!  I confess!" cried Aunt Abby.  "I did it, and I'm willing
+to go to prison!"  She was clearly hysterical, and though her
+words were positive, they by no means carried conviction.
+
+"Now, that's all bosh," declared Shane.  "You're sayin' that,
+ma'am, to shield your niece.  You know she's the murderer and--"
+
+Eunice flew at Shane like a wild thing.  She grasped his arm and
+whirled him around toward her as she glared into his face,
+quivering with indignation.
+
+"Coward!" she flung at him.  "To attack two helpless women--to
+accuse me--me, of crime!  Why, I could kill yon: where you stand
+--for such an insinuation!"
+
+"Say, you're some tiger!" Shane exclaimed, in a sort of grudging
+admiration.  "But better be careful of your words, ma'am!  If you
+could kill me--ah, there!"
+
+The last exclamation was brought forth by the sudden attack of
+Eunice, as she shook the big man so violently that he nearly lost
+his balance.
+
+"Say, you wildcat!  Be careful what you do!  You are a tiger!"
+
+"Yes," Aunt Abby giggled, nervously.  "Mr. Embury always called
+her 'Tiger'."
+
+"I don't wonder!" and Shane stared at Eunice, who had stepped
+back but who still stood, like a wild animal at bay, her eyes
+darting angry fire.
+
+"Now, Mrs. Embury, let's get down to business.  Who's your
+lawyer?
+
+"I am," declared Alvord Hendricks.  "I am her counsel.  I
+represent Mrs. Embury.  Eunice, say nothing more.  Leave it to
+me.  And, first, Shane, you haven't enough evidence to arrest
+this lady.  That dropper thing is no positive information against
+her.  It might be the work of the servants--or some intruder.
+The story of that housemaid is not necessarily law and gospel.
+Remember, you'd get in pretty bad if you were to arrest Mrs.
+Sanford Embury falsely!  And my influence with your superiors is
+not entirely negligible.  You're doing your duty, all right, but
+don't overstep your authority--or, rather, don't let your desire
+to make a sensational arrest cloud your judgment."
+
+"That's what I think, Mr. Hendricks," said Driscoll, earnestly;
+"we've found the method, but I'm by no means sure we've found the
+criminal.  Leastways, it don't look sure to me.  Eh, Shane?"
+
+"Clear enough to me," the big man growled; but he was quite
+evidently influenced by Hendricks' words.  "However, I'm willing
+to wait--but we must put Mrs. Embury under surveillance--"
+
+"Under what!" demanded Eunice, her beautiful face again contorted
+by uncontrollable anger.  "I will not be watched or spied upon!"
+
+"Hush, Eunice," begged Elliott.  "Try to keep yourself calm.  It
+does no good to defy these men--they are not really acting on
+their own initiative, but they are merely carrying out their duty
+as they see it."
+
+"Their duty is to find out who killed my husband!" and Eunice
+gave Shane another stormy glare.  "They cannot do that by
+accusing two innocent women!"
+
+"If you two women can be proved innocent, nobody will be more
+glad than me," Shane announced, in a hearty way, that was really
+generous after Eunice's treatment of him.  "But it beats me to
+see how it can be proved.  You admit, ma'am, nobody could get
+into Mr. Embury's room, except you and Miss Ames, don't you?"
+
+"I don't admit that at all, for the murderer DID get in--and DID
+commit the murder--therefore, there must be some means of
+access!"
+
+"Oho!  And just how can you suggest that an intruder got in, and
+got out again, and left those doors fastened on the inside?"
+
+"That I don't know--nor is it my business to find out."
+
+"Maybe you think a flyin' machine came at the window, ma'am!  For
+nothin' else could negotiate a ten-story apartment."
+
+"Don't talk nonsense!  But I have heard of keys that unlock doors
+from the outside--skeleton keys, I think they are called."
+
+"Yes, ma'am, there are such, sure!  But they're keys--and they
+unlock doors.  These doors of yours have strong brass catches
+that work only on the inside, snap-bolts, they are.  And when
+they're fastened, nothing from the other side of the door
+could undo 'em.  But, I say--here you, Ferdinand!"
+
+The butler came forward, his face surprised rather than alarmed,
+and stood at attention.
+
+"What do you know of events here last night?  "Shane asked him.
+
+"Nothing, sir," and Ferdinand's face was blankly respectful.
+
+"You'd better tell all you know, or you'll get into trouble."
+
+"Could you--could you make your question a little more definite?"
+
+"I will.  When Mr. and Mrs. Embury came home last night, were
+they in good humor?"
+
+"I don't know, sir."
+
+"You do know!  You know your employers well enough to judge by
+their manner whether they were at odds or not.  Answer me, man!"
+
+"Well, sir, they were, I should judge, a little at odds."
+
+"Oh, they were!  In what way did they show it?  By quarreling?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"How, then?"
+
+"By not saying anything.  But it's not uncommon for them to be at
+odds, sir--"
+
+"Speak when you're spoken to!  After Mr. Embury went to his room,
+did you attend him?"
+
+"I was in his room, yes."
+
+"Mrs. Embury was in her own room then?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Her outer door was closed?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And, therefore, fastened by the snap-bolt?"
+
+"Yes, I suppose so."
+
+"Don't you know so?  Don't you know that it must have been?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And then--then, when you left Mr. Embury's room--when you left
+him for the night-did you close his door?"
+
+"I did."
+
+"And that, of itself, locked that door?"
+
+"Yes, I suppose so."
+
+"Stop saying you suppose so.  You know it did!  You've lived in
+this house two years; you know how those doors work--you know
+your closing that door locked it?  Didn't it?"
+
+"Yes, it did.  I turned the knob afterward to make sure.  I
+always do that."
+
+Ferdinand now seemed to be as discursive as he was reticent
+before.  "And I know Miss Eunice's--Mrs. Embury's door was
+locked, because she had to unbolt it before I could get in this
+morning."
+
+"But look here," Driscoll broke in, "are these doors on that
+snap-bolt all day?  Isn't that rather an inconvenience?"
+
+"Not all day," vouchsafed Ferdinand.  "They can be turned so the
+bolt doesn't catch, and are turned that way in the daytime,
+usually."
+
+"But," and Driscoll looked at him intently, "you can swear that
+the bolts were on last night?"
+
+"Yes, sir--"
+
+"You can't!" Hendricks shot at him.  The lawyer had been
+listening in silence, but he now refuted Ferdinand.  "You don't
+KNOW that Mrs. Embury put on the catch of her door when she
+closed it."
+
+"I do, sir; I heard it click."
+
+"You are very observant," said Shane; "peculiarly so, it seems to
+me."
+
+"No, sir," and Ferdinand looked thoughtful; "but, you see, it's
+this way.  Every night I hear the click of those locks, and it
+sort of seems natural to me to listen for it.  If it should be
+forgotten, I'd think it my duty to call attention to it."
+
+"A most careful butler, on my word!" Shane's tone was a little
+sneering.
+
+"He is, indeed!" Eunice defended; "and I can assert that it is
+because of his faithfulness and efficiency that we have always
+felt safe at night from intrusion by marauders."
+
+"And you did lock your door securely last night, Mrs. Embury?"
+
+"I most assuredly did!  I do every night.  But that does not
+prove that I killed my husband.  Nor that Miss Ames did."
+
+"Then your theory--"
+
+"I have no theory.  Mr. Embury was killed--it is for you
+detectives to find out how.  But do not dare to say--or imply
+--that it was by the hand of his wife--or his relative!"
+
+She glanced fondly at Miss Ames, and then again assumed her look
+of angry defiance toward the two men who were accusing her.
+
+"It is for you to find out how," said Mason Elliott, gravely.
+"It is incredible that Mrs. Embury is the guilty one, though I
+admit the incriminating appearance of the henbane.  But I've beet
+thinking it over, and while Mr. Driscoll's surmise that the deed
+can possibly be traced to one who recently saw the play of
+'Hamlet,' yet he must remember that thousands of people saw that
+play, and that therefore it cannot point exclusively toward Mrs.
+Embury."
+
+"That's so," agreed Driscoll.  "Who went with you to the play,
+Mrs. Embury?"
+
+"My aunt, Miss Ames; also a friend, Mrs. Desternay.  And, I
+understand you went yourself, Mr. Driscoll.  Why single out me
+for a suspect?"
+
+The haughty face turned to him was quite severely critical.
+
+"True, Mrs. Embury, why should I?  The answer is, motive.  You
+must admit that I had neither motive nor opportunity to kill your
+husband.  Mrs. Desternay, let us say, had neither opportunity nor
+motive.  Miss Ames had opportunity but no motive.  And so you, we
+must all admit, are the only human being who had both
+opportunity--and motive."
+
+"I did not have motive!" Eunice flushed back.  "You talk
+nonsense!  I have had slight differences of opinion with my
+husband hundreds of time, but that is not a motive for murder!  I
+have a high temper, and at times I am unable to control it.  But
+that does not mean I am a murderess!"
+
+"Not necessarily, but it gives a reason for suspecting you, since
+you are the only person who can reasonably be suspected."
+
+"But hold on, Driscoll, don't go too fast," said Mason Elliott;
+"there may be other people who had motives.  Remember Sanford
+Embury was a man of wide public interests outside of his family
+affairs.  Suppose you turn your attention to that sort of thing."
+
+"Gladly, Mr. Elliott; but when we've proved no outsider could get
+into Mr. Embury's room, why look for outside motives?"
+
+"It seems only fair, to my mind, that such motives should be
+looked into.  Now, for instance, Embury was candidate in a hotly
+contested coming election--"
+
+"That's so," cried Hendricks; "look for your murderer in some
+such connection as that."
+
+"Election to what?  "growled Shane.
+
+"President of the Metropolitan Athletic Club--a big
+organization--"
+
+"H'm!  Who's the opposing candidate?"
+
+"I am," replied Hendricks, quietly.
+
+"You!  Well, Mr. Hendricks, where were you last night, when this
+man was killed?"
+
+"In Boston." Hendricks did not smile, but he looked as if the
+question annoyed him.
+
+"You can prove that?"
+
+"Yes, of course.  I stayed at the Touraine, was with friends till
+well after midnight, and took the seven o'clock train this
+morning for New York, in company with the same men.  You can look
+up all that, at your leisure; but there is a point in what Mr.
+Elliott says.  I can't think that any of the club members would
+be so keen over the election as to do away with one of the
+candidates, but there's the situation.  Go to it."
+
+"It leaves something to be looked into, at any rate," mused
+Shane.
+
+"Why didn't you think of it for yourself?" said Hendricks, rather
+scathingly.  "It seems to me a detective ought to look a little
+beyond his nose!"
+
+"I can't think we've got to, in this case," Shane persisted; "but
+I'm willing to try.  Also, Mrs. Embury, I'll ask you for the
+address of the lady who went with you to see that play."
+
+"Certainly," said Eunice, in a cold voice, and gave the address
+desired.
+
+"And, now, we'll move on," said Shane, rising.
+
+"You ain't under arrest, Mrs. Embury--not yet--but I advise you
+not to try to leave this house without permission--"
+
+"Indeed, I shall!  Whenever and as often as I choose!  The idea
+of your forbidding me!"
+
+"Hush, Eunice," said Hendricks.  "She will not, Mr. Shane; I'm
+her guaranty for that.  Don't apprehend any insubordination on
+the part of Mrs. Embury."
+
+"Not if she knows what's good for herself!" was Shane's parting
+shot, and the two detectives went away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+FIFI
+
+
+"Oh, yes, indeed, Mr. Shane, Mrs. Embury is a dear friend of mine
+--a very, very dear friend--and I'd so gladly go to see her--and
+comfort her--console with her--and try to cheer her up--but
+--well, I asked her last night, over the telephone, to let me go
+to see her to-day--and--she--she--"
+
+Mrs. Desternay's pretty blue eyes filled with tears, and her
+pretty lips quivered, and she dabbed a sheer little handkerchief
+here and there on her countenance.  Then she took up her babbling
+again.
+
+"Oh, I don't mean she was unfriendly or--or cross, you know--but
+she was a little--well, curt, almost--I might say, cool.  And I'm
+one of her dearest friends--and I can't quite understand it."
+
+"Perhaps you must make allowances for Mrs. Embury," Shane
+suggested.  "Remember the sudden and mysterious death of her
+husband must have been a fearful shock--"
+
+"Oh, terrible!  Yes, indeed, I do appreciate all that!  And
+of course when I telephoned last evening, she had just had
+that long interview with you--and your other detective, Mr.
+What's-his-name--and--oh, yes, Mr. Elliott answered my call and
+he told me just how things were--but I did think dear Eunice
+would want to see me--but it's all right--of course, if she
+doesn't want my sympathy.  I'm the last one to intrude on her
+grief!  But she has no one--no one at all--except that old aunt,
+who's half foolish, I think--"
+
+"What do you mean, half foolish?"
+
+"Oh, she's hipped over those psychic studies of hers, and she's
+all wrapped up in Spiritualism and occult thingamajigs--I don't
+know what you call 'em."
+
+"She seems to me a very sane and practical lady."
+
+"In most ways--yes; but crazy on the subject of spooks, and
+mediums and things like that!  Oh, Mr. Shane, who do you suppose
+killed Mr. Embury?  How awful!  To have a real murder right in
+one's owns circle of acquaintances--I had almost said friends
+--but dear Eunice doesn't seem to look on me as her friend--"
+
+The blue eyes made a bid for sympathy, and Shane, though not
+always at ease in the presence of society ladies, met her half
+way.
+
+"Now, that's a pity, Mrs. Desternay!  I'm sure you'd be the
+greatest help to her in her trouble."
+
+Fifi Desternay raised her hands and let them fall with a pretty
+little gesture of helplessness.  She was a slip of a thing, and
+--it was the morning of the day after the Embury tragedy--she was
+garbed in a scant but becoming negligee, and had received the
+detective in her morning room, where she sat, tucked into the
+corner of a great davenport sofa, smoking cigarettes.
+
+Her little face was delicately made up, and her soft, fair hair
+was in blobs over her ears.  For the rest, the effect was mostly
+a rather low V'd neck and somewhat evident silk stockings and
+beribboned mules.
+
+She continually pulled her narrow satin gown about her, and it as
+continually slipped away from her lace petticoat, as she crossed
+and recrossed her silken legs.
+
+She was entirely unself-conscious and yet, the detective felt
+instinctively that she carefully measured every one of the words
+she so carelessly uttered.
+
+"Well, Mr. Shane," she said, suddenly, "we're not getting
+anywhere.  Just exactly what did you come here for?  What do you
+want of me?"
+
+The detective was grateful for this assistance.
+
+"I came," he stated, without hesitation, "to ask you about the
+circumstances of the party which Mrs. Embury attended here night
+before last, the night her husband--died."
+
+"Oh, yes; let me see--there isn't much to tell.  Eunice Embury
+spent the evening here--we had a game of cards--and, before
+supper was served, Mr. Embury called for her and took her home
+--in their car.  That's all I know about it."
+
+"What was the card game?"
+
+"Bridge."
+
+"For high stakes?"
+
+"Oh, mercy, no!  We never really gamble!"  The fluttering little
+hands deprecated the very idea.  "We have just a tiny stake--to
+--why, only to make us play a better game.  It does, you know."
+
+"Yes'm.  And what do you call a tiny stake?  Opinions differ, you
+know."
+
+"And so do stakes!"  The blue eyes flashed a warning.  "Of
+course, we don't always play for the same.  Indeed, the sum may
+differ at the various tables.  Are you prying into my private
+affairs?"
+
+"Only so far as I'm obliged to, ma'am.  Never mind the bridge for
+the moment.  Was Mr. Embury annoyed with his wife--for any
+reason--when he called to take her home?"
+
+"Now, how should I know that?" a pretty look of perplexity came
+into the blue eyes.  "I'm not a mind reader!"
+
+"You're a woman!  Was Mr. Embury put out?"
+
+Fifi laughed a ringing peal.  "Was he?" she cried, as if suddenly
+deciding to tell the truth.  "I should say he was!  Why, he was
+so mad I was positively afraid of him!"
+
+"What did he say?"
+
+"That's just it!  He didn't say anything!  Oh, he spoke to me
+pleasantly--he was polite, and all that, but I could see that he
+was simply boiling underneath!"
+
+"You are a mind reader, then!"
+
+"I didn't have to be, to see that!"  The little figure rocked
+back and forth on the sofa, as, with arms clasped round one knee,
+Fifi gave way to a dramatic reconstruction of the scene.
+
+"'Come, Eunice,' he said, just like that!  And you bet Eunice
+went!"
+
+"Was she angry, too?"
+
+"Rather!  Oh, you know her temper is something fierce!  When
+she's roused, she's like a roaring lion and a raging bear--as it
+says in the Bible--or Shakespeare, or somewhere."'
+
+"Speaking of Shakespeare, you and Mrs. Embury went to see
+'Hamlet' recently, I believe."
+
+"Oh, yes; when the Avon Players put it on.  Everybody went.
+Didn't you?  You missed it, if you didn't!  Most marvelous
+performance.  'Macbeth,' too.  That was perfectly darling!  I
+went to that with--"
+
+"Excuse me.  As to 'Hamlet,' now.  Did you notice particularly
+the speech about the poisoning of--"
+
+"Of Hamlet's father!  I should say I did!  Why, that speech by
+Mr. Postlewaite--he was 'The Ghost,' you know--was stunning, as
+much applauded as the 'Soliloquy' itself!  He fairly made you see
+that poisoning scene!"
+
+"Was Mrs. Embury interested?"
+
+"Oh, we both were!  We were at school together, and we both loved
+Shakespeare--we took it 'Special.'  And we were terribly
+interested in the Avon Players' 'Hamlet'--it was unlike any
+representation we had ever seen."
+
+"Ah--yes; and did you--you and Mrs. Embury--discuss the poison
+used by the wicked uncle?"
+
+"Not lately.  But in class we discussed that--years ago--oh,
+that's one of the regulation Shakespearean puzzles.  You can't
+trip us up on our Shakespeare--either of us!  I doubt if you can
+find two frivolous society women who know it better than we do!"
+
+"Did you know that Mr. Embury was killed in a manner identical
+with the Hamlet murder?"
+
+"No!  What do you mean?  I've really not heard the details.  As
+soon as I heard of his death, I called up Eunice, but, as I said,
+she wasn't cordial at all.  Then I was busy with my own guests
+after that--last night and this morning--well, I'm really hardly
+awake yet!"
+
+
+Fifi rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand--a childish
+gesture, and daintily smothered a slight yawn.
+
+"But I'm awfully interested," she went on, "only--only I can't
+bear to hear about--a--murder!  The details, I mean.  I should
+think Eunice would go crazy!  I should think she'd be glad to
+come here--I was going to ask her, when she called me down!  But,
+what do you mean--killed like Hamlet's father?"
+
+"Yes; there was poison introduced into his ear as Mr. Embury
+slept--"
+
+"Really!  How tragic; How terrible!  Who did it?"
+
+"That's what we're trying to discover.  Could--do you think Mrs.
+Embury could have had sufficient motive--"
+
+"Eunice!" Fifi screamed.  "What an idea!  Eunice Embury to kill
+her own husband!  Oh, no!"
+
+"But only she and that aunt of hers had opportunity.  You know
+how their bedrooms are?"
+
+"Oh, yes, I know.  Miss Ames is using Eunice's dressing-room--and
+a nuisance it is, too."
+
+"Then you know that at night those three bedrooms are shut off
+from the rest of the house by strong bolts on the inside of the
+doors."
+
+"Yes, I know."
+
+"Then, don't you see, as Mr. Embury was killed--the doctors say
+about daybreak, or earlier--nobody could have done it except
+somebody who was behind those locked doors."
+
+"The windows?"
+
+"Tenth story, and no balconies.  And, too, they all have
+flower-boxes, except one, and the flowers were undisturbed.  The
+one that hasn't a flower-box is on the side street, in Miss Ames'
+room.  And that--I looked out myself--has no balcony, nor even
+abroad ledge.  It couldn't be reached from the next apartment--if
+that's what you're thinking of."
+
+"I'm not thinking of anything," returned Fifi.  "I'm too dazed to
+think!  Eunice Embury!  Do you mean she is really suspected?"
+
+"I mean that, very decidedly, ma'am.  And I am here to ask you if
+you can give any additional evidence, any--"
+
+"Any evidence!  Evidence against my dear friend!  Why, man, if I
+knew anything, I wouldn't tell it, if it would go against
+Eunice!"
+
+"Oh, yes, you would; the law would force you to.  But do you know
+anything definite?"
+
+"No, of course, I don't!  I know that Mr. and Mrs. Embury were
+not always cooing like turtle-doves!  She had the devil's own
+temper--and he wasn't much better!  I know he drove her frantic
+because he wouldn't give her some privileges she wanted--wouldn't
+allow her certain latitudes, and was generally pretty dictatorial.
+I know Eunice resented this, and I know that lots of times she
+was pretty nearly at the end of her rope, and she said all sorts
+of things--that, of course, she didn't mean--but she wouldn't kill
+him!  Oh, I don't think she would do that!"
+
+"H'm!  So they lived like cats and dogs, did they?"
+
+"What an awful way to put it!  But, well, Sanford didn't make
+Eunice's life a bed of roses--nor did she go out of her way to
+please him!"
+
+"Mr. Embury was often a guest here?"
+
+"He was not!  Eunice came here, against his will--against his
+expressed commands."
+
+"Oho!  She did!  And her visit here night before last--that was
+an act of insubordination?"
+
+"It was!  I wouldn't tell this--but it's sure to come out.  Yes,
+he had especially and positively forbidden her to come to that
+party here, and after he went to his club--Eunice ran away from
+home and came.  Naughty girl!  She told us she had played hookey,
+when she first came in!  But, good gracious, Mr. Shane, that was
+no crime!  In this day and generation a wife may disobey her
+husband--and get away with it!"
+
+The arch little face smiled saucily, and Fifi cuddled into her
+corner, and again fell a-thinking.
+
+"I can't believe you really mean you think Eunice did it!" she
+broke out.  "Why, what are you going to do?  Arrest her?"
+
+"Not quite.  Although she is under strict surveillance at
+present."
+
+"What!  Can't she go out, if she likes?"
+
+"No."
+
+"How perfectly absurd!  Oh, I've a notion to telephone and ask
+her to go for a drive.  What fun!"
+
+Shane looked at the mischievous face in astonishment.  He was
+experienced in human nature, but this shallow, frivolous attitude
+toward a tragedy was new to him.
+
+"I thought you and Mrs. Embury were friends," he said,
+reprovingly.
+
+"Oh, we are--Or rather, we were.  I'm not sure I can know her
+--after this!  But, you see, I can't take it seriously.  I can't
+really believe you mean that you think Eunice--guilty!  Why, I'd
+a thousand times rather suspect the old aunt person!"
+
+"You would!"  Shane spoke eagerly.  "Could that be possible?"
+
+"It could be possible this way," Fifi was serious now.  "You
+see, Miss Ames adores Eunice.  She found it hard to forgive
+Sanford for his tyrannical ways--and they were tyrannical.  And
+Miss Ames might have, by way of ridding Eunice from a cruel
+husband--might have--oh, I can't say it--it sounds too absurd!
+But, after all, it's no more absurd than to suspect Eunice.  Why
+don't you look for somebody else?"
+
+"How could anybody get in?"
+
+"I know," impatiently; "but I've read detective stories, and
+'most always, the murder is committed in what they call 'a
+hermetically sealed room,' and yet somebody did get in!"
+
+"There's no such thing as a hermetically sealed room!  Don't you
+know what hermetically sealed means?"
+
+"Yes, of course I do, literally.  But that phrase is used--in
+detective stories, to mean an inaccessible room.  Or a seemingly
+inaccessible one.  But always it comes out that it could be
+entered."
+
+"That's all very well in fiction, ma'am; but it won't work in
+this case.  Why, I looked over those door locks myself.  Nobody
+could get in."
+
+"Well, leaving aside the way they got in, let's see whom we can
+suspect.  There's two men that I know of who are dead in love
+with Mrs. Embury--and I daresay there are a lot more, who can see
+a silver lining in this cloud!"
+
+"What--what do you mean?"
+
+Shane was fascinated by the lovely personality of Mrs. Desternay,
+and he began to think that she might be of some real help to him.
+Though a skilled detective, he was of the plodding sort, and
+never had brilliant or even original ideas.  He had had a notion
+it would have been better to send Driscoll on this errand he was
+himself attempting, but a touch of jealousy of the younger and
+more quick-witted man made him determine to attend to Mrs.
+Desternay himself.
+
+"Well, Mr. Stupid, if you were in the presence of Mrs. Embury and
+Mr. Elliott and Mr. Hendricks,--as you said you were--and didn't
+size up how matters stand with those two men, you are a queer
+sort of detective!"
+
+Her light laughter rippled pleasantly, and Shane forgave her
+reproof by reason of her charm.
+
+"Both of them?" he said, helplessly.
+
+"Yes, sir, both of them!" She mimicked his tone.  "You see, Mr.
+Shane, it's an old romance, all 'round.  When Eunice Ames was a
+girl, three men fought for her hand, the two we've just
+mentioned, and Mr. Embury, who was the successful suitor.  And he
+succeeded only by sheer force of will.  He practically stole her
+from the other two and married her out of hand."
+
+"I suppose the lady agreed?"
+
+"Of course, but it was a marriage in haste, and--I imagine that
+it was followed by the proverbial consequences."
+
+"What do you mean?" asked the dull-witted Shane.
+
+"That they repented at leisure.  At least, Eunice did--I don't
+believe Sanford ever regretted."
+
+"But those two men are Embury's friends."
+
+"Sure they are!  Oh, friend Shane, were you born yesterday?  I
+thought detectives were a little more up-to-date than that!  Of
+course, they're all friends, always have been, since they made
+mud-pies together in their Boston backyards."
+
+"Did you belong to that childish group?
+
+"Me?  Lord, no!  I'm Simon Pure Middle West!  And I glory in it!
+I'd hate to be of New England descent--you have to live up to
+traditions and things!  I'm a law unto myself, when it comes to
+life and living!"
+
+"And you met Mrs. Embury?"
+
+"At boarding-school.  We spent four years together--chums, and
+all that.  Then after we were both married, we drifted together
+again, here in New York--and somehow Eunice's husband didn't take
+to poor little Fifi one bit!  I wonder why!"
+
+Her look of injured innocence was charming, and Shane had to make
+an effort to keep to the subject in hand.
+
+"So those two men admire Mrs. Embury?"
+
+"Admire is a silly word!  They adore her--they worship the ground
+she walks on!  They are, no doubt, decently decorous at the
+passing of their old friend, but as soon as the funeral baked
+meats are cold enough, look out for a marriage table on which to
+serve them!"
+
+"Did--did Mr. Embury realize that his friends so admired his
+wife?"
+
+"Probably.  Yes, of course, he did.  But he didn't care.  She was
+his--she gave them no encouragement--such things aren't done--"
+Fifi's eyes rolled upward--"and, I only tell you, to show you
+that there are, at least, other directions in which to look!"
+
+"But--let me see--Mr. Hendricks was in Boston at the time of Mr.
+Embury's death."
+
+"Then that lets him out.  And Mr. Elliott?  Where was he?"
+
+"I haven't made definite inquiry.  Probably he--"
+
+"Probably he has an alibi!  Oh, yes, of course he has!  And if he
+killed Sanford Embury, he's more likely than ever to have a fine
+alibi!  Look here, Mr. Shane, I believe I could give you cards
+and spades and beat you at your little detective games!"
+
+"You mix me all up, with your ridiculous suggestions!" Shane
+tried to speak sternly, but was forced to smile at the roguish,
+laughing face that mocked him.
+
+"All right, play your own game.  I tried to help, by suggesting
+more suspects--in a multitude of suspects there is safety--for
+our dear Eunice!  And she never did it!  If you can't contrive a
+way for either of those two men to get through those bolted
+doors, then turn your eagle eyes toward Aunt Abby!  She's a queer
+Dick--if you ask me, and Eunice Embury--well, I admit I resent
+her coolness last night, but I freely own up that I think her
+incapable of such a crime."
+
+"But you two discussed the poisoning business in the play--"
+"We did.  But we discussed lots of other points about that play
+and compared it with other presentations we have seen, and, oh,
+you're too absurd to hang a murder on that woman, just because
+she saw a murder on the stage--or rather heard the description of
+one!"
+
+"But that's the coincidence!  She did hear that murder described
+fully.  She did talk it over with you.  She did show a special
+interest in it.  Then, a week or so later, her husband is killed
+by identically the same method.  She, and she alone--except for a
+mild old lady--has opportunity to do the deed; the instrument of
+death is found in her cupboard; and she flies into a rage at the
+first hint of accusation, of the crime!  By the way, if as you
+hint, one of those men did it, would they leave the medicine
+dropper that conveyed the poison, in Mrs. Embury's rooms.  Would
+they want to bring suspicion against the woman they love?  Answer
+me that?"
+
+"There might be another solution," Fifi nodded her wise little
+head thoughtfully.  "Perhaps whoever did it, tried to throw
+suspicion on Miss Ames."
+
+"That makes him a still more despicable villain.  To implicate
+falsely a harmless old lady--no, I can't think that."
+
+"Yet you think Mrs. Embury did!"
+
+"I don't know.  Perhaps the two women worked in collusion.  Or
+Miss Ames might have wakened and learned the truth, and agreed to
+keep the secret.  In fact, Miss Ames confessed that she did the
+murder, but we know she was not telling the truth then.  However,
+she knows who did do it--I've no doubt of that.  Well, Mrs.
+Desternay, I can't subscribe to your original, if rather
+impossible, suggestions, but I thank you for this interview, and
+I may say you have helped me."
+
+"I have?  How?  Not against Eunice?"
+
+"Never mind, ma'am, I must get off by myself, and straighten out
+my notes, and see where I stand.  Are you going to telephone to
+Mrs. Embury again?"
+
+"No!" and the little head was tossed proudly.  "If she wants me,
+let her call me up.  I did my part, now I'll subside.  And, too
+--if she is--is--oh, I can't say it!  But I'll wait further
+developments before I decide just where I stand in regard to
+Eunice Embury!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+IN HANLON'S OFFICE
+
+
+In an office building, away downtown, a little old lady stood in
+the lobby studying the great bulletin board of room numbers.
+
+"Can I help you, ma'am?  "asked the elevator starter, seeing her
+perplexity.
+
+"I want Sykes and Barton, Scenic Sign Painters," she said,
+positively enough; "but there are so many S's, I can't seem to
+find them!"
+
+"All right, ma'am; here they are.  Sixth floor, Room 614."
+
+"Thank you," the old lady said, and entered the elevator he
+indicated.
+
+She seemed preoccupied, and made no move to leave the car, until
+the elevator man spoke to her twice.
+
+"This is the floor you want, lady," he said.  "Room 614.  That
+way, just round that first corner."
+
+Miss Ames started off in the way he pointed, and stood for a
+moment in front of the door numbered 614.
+
+Then, with a determined shake of her thin shoulders, she opened
+the door and walked in.
+
+"I want to see Mr. Hanlon," she said to the girl at the first
+desk.
+
+"By appointment?"
+
+"No; but say it is Miss Ames--he'll see me."
+
+"Why, Miss Ames, how do you do?" and the man who had so
+interested the beholders of his feat in Newark came forward to
+greet her.  "Come right into my office," and he led her to an
+inner room.  "Now, what's it all about?"
+
+The cheery reception set his visitor at ease, and she drew a long
+breath of relief as she settled herself in the chair he offered.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Hanlon, I'm so frightened--or, at least, I was.  It's
+all so noisy and confusing down here!  Why, I haven't been
+downtown in New York for twenty years!"
+
+"That so?  Then I must take you up on our roof and show you a few
+of the skyscrapers--"
+
+"No, no, I've not time for anything like that.  Oh, Mr. Hanlon
+--you--have you read in the papers of our--our trouble?"
+
+"Yes," and the young man spoke gravely, "I have, Miss Ames.  Just
+a week ago to-day, wasn't it?"
+
+"Yes; and they're no nearer a solution of the mystery than ever.
+And, oh, Mr. Hanlon, they're still suspecting Eunice--Mrs.
+Embury--and I must save her!  She didn't do it--truly she didn't,
+and--I think I did."
+
+"What!"
+
+"Yes, I truly think so.  But I wasn't myself, you know--I was
+--hypnotized--"
+
+"Hypnotized!  By whom?"
+
+"I don't know--by some awful person who wanted Sanford dead, I
+suppose."
+
+"But that's ridiculous, Miss Ames--"
+
+"No, it isn't.  I'm a very easy subject--"
+
+"Have you ever been hypnotized?"
+
+"Not very successfully.  But no real hypnotizer ever tried it.
+I'm sure, though, I'd be a perfect subject--I'm so--so psychic,
+you know--"
+
+"Bosh and nonsense!  You know, Miss Ames, what I think of that
+sort of thing!  You know how I played on people's gullibility
+when I used to do that fake 'thought-transference'--"
+
+"I know, Mr. Hanlon," and Miss Ames was very earnest, "but, and
+this is why I'm here--you told me that in all the foolery and
+hocus-pocus there was, you believed, two per cent of genuine
+telepathy--two per cent of genuine communication with spirits of
+the dead"
+
+"But I said that merely in a general way, Miss Ames.  I didn't
+mean to say it was a proven proposition--"
+
+"That isn't the point--you told me there were a few--a very few
+real, sincere mediums--now I'm here to get the address of the
+best one you know of.  I want to go to him--or her--and have a
+seance, and I want to get into communication with Sanford--with
+Mr. Embury's spirit, and learn from him who killed him.  It's the
+only way we can ever find out."
+
+Miss Ames' gray eyes took on a strange look; she seemed half
+hypnotized at the moment, as she looked at Hanlon.  He moved
+uncomfortably under her gaze.
+
+"Well," he said, at length, "I can give you the address of the
+best--the only real medium I know.  That I will do with pleasure,
+but I cannot guarantee his bringing about a materialization of
+--of Mr. Embury."
+
+"Never mind about materialization, if he can get in touch and get
+a message for me.  You see--I haven't said much about this--but
+Mr. Embury's spirit appeared to me as--as he died."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Yes; just at the moment his soul passed from earth, his astral
+body passed by me and paused at my bedside for a farewell."
+
+"You amaze me!  You are indeed psychic.  Tell me about it."
+
+"No; I won't tell you the story--I'll tell the medium.  But I
+know I saw him--why, he was discernible to all my five senses--"
+
+"To your senses!  Then it was no spirit!"
+
+"Oh, yes, it was.  Sanford's body still lay on his own bed, but
+his passing spirit materialized sufficiently for me to see it--to
+hear it--to feel it"
+
+"Miss Ames, you mustn't go to a medium!  You are too imaginative
+--too easily swayed--don't go, dear lady, it can do no good."
+
+Young Hanlon looked, as he felt, very solicitous for the aged
+spinster, and he cast an anxious glance at her disturbed face.
+
+"I must," she insisted; "it is the only way.  I had great trouble
+to find you, Mr. Hanlon.  I had to communicate with Mr. Mortimer,
+in Newark--and at last we traced you here.  Are you all through
+with your fake tricks?"
+
+"Yes," Hanlon laughed.  "I wore them out.  I've gone into a
+legitimate business."
+
+"Sign painting?"
+
+"Yes, as you see."
+
+"But such big signs!" and the old lady's eyes wandered to
+photographs and sketches of enormous scenic signs, such as are
+painted on high buildings or built on housetops.
+
+"That's the specialty of this firm.  I'm only learning, but it
+strongly appeals to me.  It's really more of an art than a trade.
+Now, as to this man you want to see, Miss Ames, I'll give you
+his address, but I beg of you to think it over before you visit
+him.  Consult with some one--not Mrs. Embury--some man, of good
+judgment and clear mind.  Who is advising you?"
+
+"Mr. Hendricks and Mr. Elliott--you saw them both the day you
+were at our house--they advise my niece and myself in all
+matters.  Shall I ask them?"
+
+Miss Abby was pathetic in her simple inquiry, and Hanlon spoke
+gently as he replied.
+
+"Yes, if you are determined to try the experiment.  But I do not
+advise you to see Mr. Marigny, the medium I spoke of.  Here is
+the address, but you talk it over with those two men you
+mentioned.  I know they are both practical, logical business men,
+and their advice on the subject will be all right.  I thank you,
+Miss Ames, for honoring me with a call.  I hope if you do go to
+see Marigny, it will prove a satisfactory seance, but I also hope
+you will decide not to go.  You are, as I said, too emotional,
+too easily swayed by the supernatural to go very deeply into
+those mysteries.  Shall I take you to the elevator?"
+
+"If you please, Mr. Hanlon," and still in that half oblivious
+mood, Miss Ames allowed herself to be led through the halls.
+
+Hanlon went down with her, for he feared to leave her to her own
+devices.  He was relieved to find she had a taxicab in waiting,
+and as he put her into it, he cautioned the driver to take his
+fare straight home.
+
+"But I want to go to Marigny's now," objected Miss Ames, as she
+heard what Hanlon said.
+
+"Oh, you can't.  You must make an appointment with him--by mail
+or by telephone.  And, too, you promised me you'd put it up to
+Mr. Hendricks or Mr. Elliott first."
+
+"So I did," and the old head nodded submissively, as the taxi
+drove away.
+
+
+When Ferdinand admitted Aunt Abby to the Embury home, she heard
+voices in the living-room that were unmistakably raised in anger.
+
+"You know perfectly well, Fifi," Eunice was saying, "that your
+little bridge games are quite big enough to be called a violation
+of the law--you know that such stakes as you people play for--"
+
+"It isn't the size of the stake that makes gambling!" Fifi
+Desternay cried, shrilly; "I've had the advice of a lawyer, and
+he says that as long as it's my own home and the players are
+invited guests, there's no possibility of being--"
+
+"Raided!" said Eunice, scathingly.  "Might as well call things by
+their real name!"
+
+"Hush up!  Some of the servants might hear you!  How unkind you
+are to me, Eunice.  You used to love your little Fifi!"
+
+"Well, she doesn't now!" said Miss Ames, tartly, as she came in.
+"You see, Mrs. Desternay, you have been instrumental in bringing
+our dear Eunice under a dreadful, and absolutely unfounded
+suspicion--"
+
+"Dreadful, but far from unfounded!" declared Mrs. Desternay, her
+little hands uplifted, and her pretty face showing a scornful
+smile.  "You and I, Aunt Abby, know what our dear Eunice's temper
+is--"
+
+"Don't you 'Aunt Abby' me, you good-for-nothing little piece!  I
+am surprised Eunice allows you in this house!"
+
+"Now, now--if Eunice doesn't want me, I'll get out--and jolly
+well glad to do so!  How about it, Eunice?  I came here to help,
+but if I'm not wanted--out goes little Fifi!"
+
+She rose, shaking her fur stole into place about her dainty
+person, and, whipping out a tiny mirror from her vanity case, she
+applied a rouge stick to her already scarlet lips.
+
+"No--no--" and Eunice wailed despairingly.  "Don't go, Fifi, I
+--oh, I don't know how I feel toward you!  You see--I will speak
+plainly--you see, it was my acquaintance with you that caused the
+trouble--mostly--between me and San."
+
+"Thought it was money matters--his stinginess, you know."
+
+"He wasn't stingy!  He wouldn't give me an allowance, but he was
+generous in every other way.  And that's why--"
+
+"Why you came to my 'gambling house' to try to pick up a little
+ready cash!  I know.  But now looky here, Eunice, you've got to
+decide--either you're with me or agin me!  I won't have any blow
+hot, blow cold!  You're friends with Fifi Desternay--or--she's
+your enemy!"
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Just what I say!  You like me, you've always liked me.  Now,
+stand by me, and I'll stand by you."
+
+"How?"
+
+"You think I can't!  Well, madame, you're greatly mistaken!  That
+big blundering fool of a detective person has been to see me--"
+
+"Shane?"
+
+"The same.  And--he grilled me pretty thoroughly as to our going
+to see 'Hamlet' and whether we talked the poison scene over--
+and so forth and so on.  In a word, Eunice Embury, I hold your
+life in my hands!"
+
+Fifi held out her pretty little hands, dramatically.  She still
+stood, her white fur scarf hanging from one shoulder, her small
+turban of red breast feathers cocked at a jaunty angle above her
+straight brows, and one tiny slippered foot tapping decidedly on
+the floor.
+
+"Yes, ma'am, in my two hands,--me--Fifi!  If I tell all we said
+about that poisoning of the old 'Hamlet' gentleman, through his
+ear--you know what we said, Eunice Embury--you know how we
+discussed the impossibility of such a murder ever being
+discovered--you know if I should give Shane a full account of
+that talk of ours--the life of Madame Embury wouldn't be worth
+that!"
+
+A snap of a dainty thumb and finger gave a sharp click that went
+straight through Eunice's brain, and made her gasp out a
+frightened "Oh!"
+
+"Yes, ma'am, oh! all you like to--you can't deny it!  Shane came
+to see me three times.  I almost told him all the last time, for
+you steadily refused to see me--until to-day.  And now, to-day, I
+put it to you, Eunice Embury, do you want me for friend--or foe?"
+
+Fifi's blue eyes glittered, her red lips closed in a tight line,
+and her little pointed face was as the face of a wicked sprite.
+Eunice stood, surveying her.  Tall, stately, beautiful, she
+towered above her guest, and looked down on her with a fine
+disdain.
+
+Eunice's eyes were stormy, not glittering--desperate rather than
+defiant--she seemed almost like a fierce, powerful tiger
+appraising a small but very wily ferret.
+
+"Is this a bargain?" she cried scathingly.  "Are you offering to
+buy my friendship?  I know you, Fifi Desternay!  You are--a snake
+in the grass!"
+
+Fifi clenched her little fists, drew her lips between her teeth,
+and fairly hissed, "Serpent, yourself!  Murderess!  I know all
+--and I shall tell all!  You'll regret the day you scorned the
+friendship--the help of Fifi Desternay!"
+
+"I don't want your help, at the price of friendship with you!  I
+know you for what you are!  My husband told me--others have told
+me!  I did go to your house for the sake of winning money--yes,
+and I am ashamed of it!  And I am ready to face any accusation,
+brave any suspicion, rather than be shielded from it, or helped
+out of it by you!"
+
+"Fine words!  but they mean nothing!  You know you're justly
+accused!  You know you're rightly suspected!  But you are clever
+--you also know that no jury, in this enlightened age, will ever
+convict a woman!  Especially a beautiful woman!  You know you are
+safe from even the lightest sentence--and that though you are
+guilty--yes, guilty of the murder of your husband, you will get
+off scot free, because"--Fifi paused to give her last shot
+telling effect--"because your counsel, Alvord Hendricks, is in
+love with you!  He will manage it, and what he can't accomplish,
+Mason Elliott can!  With those two influential men, both in love
+with you, you can't be convicted--and probably you won't even be
+arrested!"
+
+"Go!" said Eunice, and she folded her arms as she gazed at her
+angry antagonist.  "Go!  I scorn to refute or even answer your
+words."
+
+"Because they're true!  Because there is no answer!"  Fifi fairly
+screamed.  "You think you're a power!  Because you're tall and
+statuesque and stunning!  You know if those men can't keep you
+out of the court-room at least you are safe in the hands of any
+judge or jury, because they are men!  You know if you smile at
+them--pathetically--if you cast those wonderful eyes of yours at
+them, they'll grovel at your feet!  I know you, Eunice Embury!
+You're banking on your femininity to save you from your just
+fate."
+
+"You judge me by yourself, Fifi.  You are a power among men, most
+women are, but I do not bank on that--"
+
+"Not alone!  You bank on the fact that either Hendricks or
+Elliott would go through hell for you, and count it an easy
+journey.  You rest easy in the knowledge that those two men can
+do just about anything they set their minds to--"
+
+"Will you go?"
+
+"Yes, I will go.  And when Mr. Shane comes to see me again, I
+will tell him the truth--all the truth about the' Hamlet' play
+--and--it will be enough!"
+
+"Tell him!" Eunice's eyes blazed now.  "Tell him the truth--and
+add to it whatever lies your clever brain can invent!  Do your
+worst Fifi Desternay; I am not afraid of you!"
+
+"I am going, Eunice."  Fifi moved slowly toward the door.  "I
+shall tell the truth, but I shall add no lies--that will not be
+necessary!"
+
+She disappeared, and Eunice stood, panting with excitement and
+indignation.
+
+Aunt Abby came toward her.  The old lady had been a witness of
+the whole scene--had, indeed, tried several times to utter a word
+of pacification, but neither of the women had so much as noticed
+her.
+
+"Go away, Auntie, please," said Eunice.  "I can't talk to you.
+I'm expecting Mason at any time now, and I want to get calmed
+down a little."
+
+Miss Ames went to her room, and Eunice sat down on the davenport.
+
+She sat upright, tensely quiet, and thought over all Fifi had
+said--all she had threatened.
+
+"It would have been far better," Eunice told herself, "for my
+cause if I had held her friendship.  And I could have done it,
+easily--but--Fifi's friendship would be worse than her enmity!"
+
+
+When Mason Elliott came, Detective Driscoll was with him.
+
+The net of the detectives was closing in around Eunice, and
+though both Elliott and Hendricks--as Fifi had truly surmised
+--were doing all in their power, the denouement was not far off
+--Eunice was in imminent danger of arrest at any moment.
+
+"We've been talking about the will--Sanford's will," Elliott
+said, in a dreary tone, after the callers were seated, "and,
+Eunice, Mr. Driscoll chooses to think that the fact that San left
+practically everything to you, without any restraint in the way
+of trustees, or restriction of any sort, is another count against
+you."
+
+Eunice smiled bravely.  "But that isn't news," she said; "we all
+knew that my husband made me his sole--or rather principal
+--beneficiary.  I know the consensus of opinion is that I
+murdered my husband that I might have his money--and full control
+of it.  This is no new element."
+
+"No;" said Driscoll, moved by the sight of the now patient,
+gentle face; "no; but we've added a few more facts--and look
+here, Mrs. Embury, it's this way.  I've doped it out that there
+are five persons who could possibly have committed this--this
+crime.  I'll speak plainly, for you have continually permitted
+me--even urged me to do so.  Well, let us say Sanford Embury
+could have been killed by anyone of a certain five.  And they
+size up like this: Mr. Elliott, here, and Mr. Alvord Hendricks
+may be said to have had motive but no opportunity."
+
+"Motive?" said Eunice, in a tone of deepest possible scorn.
+
+"Yes, ma'am.  Mr. Elliott, now, is an admirer of yours--don't
+look offended, please; I'm speaking very seriously.  It is among
+the possibilities that he wanted your husband out of his way."
+
+Mason Elliott listened to this without any expression of
+annoyance.  Indeed, he had heard this argument of Driscoll's
+before, and it affected him not at all.
+
+"But, Mrs. Embury, Mr. Elliott had no opportunity.  We have
+learned beyond all doubt that he was at his club or at his home
+all that night.  Next, Mr. Hendricks had a motive.  The rival
+candidates were both eager for election, and we must call that a
+motive for Mr. Hendricks to be willing to remove his opponent.
+But again, Mr. Hendricks had no opportunity.  He was in Boston
+from the afternoon of the day before Mr. Embury's death until
+noon of the next day.  That lets him out positively.  Therefore,
+there are two with motives but no opportunity.  Next, we must
+admit there were two who had opportunity, but no motive.  I refer
+to Ferdinand, your butler, and Miss Ames, your aunt.  These two
+could have managed to commit the deed, had they chosen, but we
+can find no motive to attribute to either of them.  It has been
+suggested that Miss Ames might have had such a desire to rid you,
+Mrs. Embury, of a tyrannical husband, that she was guilty.  But
+it is so highly improbable as to be almost unbelievable.
+
+"Therefore, as I sum it up, the two who had motive without
+opportunity, and the two who had opportunity without motive, must
+all be disregarded, because of the one who had motive and
+opportunity both.  Yourself, Mrs. Embury."
+
+The arraignment was complete.  Driscoll's quiet, even tones
+carried a sort of calm conviction.
+
+"And so, Eunice," Mason Elliott spoke up, "I'm going to try one
+more chance.  I've persuaded Mr.  Driscoll to wait a day or two
+before progressing any further, and let me get Fleming Stone on
+this case."
+
+"Very well," said Eunice, listlessly.  "Who is he?"
+
+"A celebrated detective.  Mr. Driscoll makes no objection--which
+goes to prove what a good detective he is himself.  His partner,
+Mr. Shane, is not so willing, but has grudgingly consented.  In
+fact, they couldn't help themselves, for they are not quite
+sure that they have enough evidence to arrest you.  Shane thinks
+that Stone will find out more, and so strengthen the case against
+you but Driscoll, bless him!  thinks maybe Stone can find another
+suspect."
+
+"I didn't exactly say I thought that, Mr. Elliott," said
+Driscoll.  "I said I hoped it."
+
+"We all hope it," returned Elliott.
+
+"Hope while you may," and Driscoll sighed.  "Fleming Stone has
+never failed to find the criminal yet.  And if his findings
+verify mine, I shall be glad to put the responsibility on his
+shoulders."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+FLEMING STONE
+
+
+One of the handsomest types of American manhood is that rather
+frequently seen combination of iron-gray hair and dark, deep-set
+eyes that look out from under heavy brows with a keen,
+comprehensive glance.
+
+This type of man is always a thinker, usually a professional man,
+and almost invariably a man of able brain.  He is nearly always
+well-formed, physically, and of good carriage and demeanor.
+
+At any rate, Fleming Stone was all of these things, and when he
+came into the Embury living-room his appearance was in such
+contrast to that of the other two detectives that Eunice greeted
+him with a pleased smile.
+
+Neither Shane nor Driscoll was present, and Mason Elliott
+introduced Stone to the two ladies, with a deep and fervent hope
+that the great detective could free Eunice from the cloud of
+danger and disgrace that hovered above her head.
+
+His magnetic smile was so attractive that Aunt Abby nodded her
+head in complete approval of the newcomer.
+
+"And now tell me all about everything," Stone said, as they
+seated themselves in a cozy group.  "I know the newspaper facts,
+but that's all.  I must do my work quite apart from the beaten
+track, and I want any sidelights or bits of information that your
+local detectives may have overlooked and which may help us."
+
+"You don't think Eunice did it, do you, Mr. Stone?" Aunt Abby
+broke out, impulsively, quite forgetting the man was a
+comparative stranger.
+
+"I am going to work on the theory that she did not," he declared.
+"Then we will see what we can scare up in the way of evidence
+against some one else.  First, give me a good look at those doors
+that shut off the bedrooms."
+
+With a grave face, Fleming Stone studied the doors, which, as he
+saw, when bolted on the inside left no means of access to the
+three rooms in which the family had slept.
+
+"Except the windows," Stone mused, and went to look at them.
+As they all had window boxes, save one in Aunt Abby's room, and
+as that was about a hundred feet from the ground, he dismissed
+the possibility of an intruder.
+
+"Nobody could climb over the plants without breaking them," said
+Eunice, with a sigh at the inevitable deduction.
+
+Stone looked closely at the plants, kept in perfect order by Aunt
+Abby, who loved the work, and who tended them every day.  Not a
+leaf was crushed, not a stem broken, and the scarlet geranium
+blossoms stood straight up like so many mute witnesses against
+any burglarious entrance.
+
+Stone returned to Aunt Abby's side window, and leaning over the
+sill looked out and down to the street below.
+
+"Couldn't be reached even by firemen's ladders," he said, "and,
+anyway, the police would have spotted any ladder work."
+
+"I tried to think some one came in at that window," said Elliott,
+"but even so, nobody could go through Miss Ames' room, and then
+Mrs. Embury's room, and so on to Mr. Embury's room--do his deadly
+work--and return again, without waking the ladies--"
+
+"Not only that, but how could he get in the window?" said Eunice.
+"There's no possible way of climbing across from the next
+apartment--oh, I'm honest with myself," she added, as Stone
+looked at her curiously.  "I don't deceive myself by thinking
+impossibilities could happen.  But somebody killed my husband,
+and--according to the detectives--I am the only one who had both
+motive and opportunity!"
+
+"Had you a motive, Mrs. Embury?" Stone asked, quietly.
+
+Eunice stared at him.  "They say so," she replied.  "They say I
+was unhappy with him."
+
+"And were you?"  The very directness of Stone's pertinent
+questions seemed to compel Eunice's truthful answers, and she
+said:
+
+"Of course I was!  But that--"
+
+"Eunice, hush!" broke in Elliott, with a pained look.  "Don't say
+such things, dear, it can do no good, and may injure your case."
+
+"Not with me," Stone declared.  "My work has led me rather
+intimately into people's lives, and I am willing to go on record
+as saying that fifty per cent of marriages are unhappy--more or
+less.  Whether that is a motive for murder depends entirely on
+the temper and temperament of the married ones themselves.  But
+--it is very rarely that a wife kills her husband."
+
+"Why, there are lots of cases in the papers," said Miss Ames.
+"And never are the women convicted, either!"
+
+"Oh, not lots of cases," objected Stone, "but the few that do
+occur are usually tragic and dramatic and fill a front page for a
+few days.  Now, let's sift down this remarkably definite
+statement of 'motives and opportunities' that your eminent
+detectives have catalogued.  I'm told that they've two people
+with motive and no opportunity; two more with opportunity and no
+motive; and one--Mrs. Embury--who fulfills both requirements!
+Quite an elaborate schedule, to be sure!"
+
+Eunice looked at him with a glimmer of hope.  Surely a man who
+talked like that didn't place implicit reliance on the schedule
+in question.
+
+"And yet," Stone went on, "it is certainly true.  A motive is a
+queer thing--an elusive, uncertain thing.  They say--I have this
+from the detectives themselves-that Mr. Hendricks and Mr. Elliott
+both had the motive of deep affection for Mrs. Embury.  Please
+don't be offended, I am speaking quite impersonally, now.  Mr.
+Hendricks, I am advised, also had a strong motive in a desire to
+remove a rival candidate for an important election.  But--neither
+of these gentlemen had opportunity, as each has proven a perfect
+and indubitable alibi.  I admit the alibis--I've looked into
+them, and they are unimpeachable--but I don't admit the motives.
+Granting a man's affection for a married woman, it is not at all
+a likely thing for him to kill her husband."
+
+"Right, Mr. Stone!" and Mason Elliott's voice rang out in honest
+appreciation.
+
+"Again, it is absurd to suspect one election candidate of killing
+another.  It isn't done--and one very good reason is, that if the
+criminal should be discovered, he has small chance for the
+election he coveted.  And there is always a chance--and a strong
+one--that 'murder will out!  So, personally, I admit I don't
+subscribe entirely to the cut-and-dried program of my esteemed
+colleagues.  Now, as to these two people with opportunity but no
+motive.  They are, I'm told, Miss Ames and the butler.  Very
+well, I grant their opportunity--but since they are alleged to
+have no motive, why consider them at all?  This brings us to Mrs.
+Embury."
+
+Eunice was watching the speaker, fascinated.  She had never met a
+man like this before.  Though Stone's manner was by no means
+flippant, he seemed to take a light view of some aspects of the
+case.  But now, he looked at Eunice very earnestly.
+
+"I am informed," he went on, slowly, "that you have an
+ungovernable temper, Mrs. Embury."
+
+"Nothing of the sort!" Eunice cried, tossing her head defiantly
+and turning angry eyes on the bland detective.  "I am supposed to
+be unable to control myself, but it is not true!  As a child I
+gave way to fits of temper, I acknowledge, but I have overcome
+that tendency, and I am no more hot-tempered now than other
+people!"
+
+As always, when roused, Eunice looked strikingly beautiful, her
+eyes shone and her cheeks showed a crimson flush.  She drew
+herself up haughtily, and clenching her hands on the back of a
+chair, as she stood facing Stone, she said, "If you have come
+here to browbeat me--to discuss my personal characteristics, you
+may go!  I've no intention of being brought to book by a
+detective!"
+
+"Why, Eunice, don't talk that way," begged Aunt Abby.  "I'm sure
+Mr. Stone is trying to get you freed from the awful thing that is
+hanging over you!"
+
+"There's no awful thing hanging over me!  I don't know what you
+mean, Aunt Abby!  There can't be anything worse than to have a
+stranger come in here and remark on my unfortunate weakness in
+sometimes giving way to my sense of righteous indignation!  I
+resent it!  I won't have it!  Mason, you brought Mr. Stone here
+--now take him away!"
+
+"There, there, Eunice, you are not quite yourself, and I don't
+wonder.  This scene is too much for you.  I'm sure you will make
+allowance, Mr. Stone, for Mrs. Embury's overwrought nerves--"
+
+"Of course," and Fleming Stone spoke coldly, without sympathy or
+even apparent interest.  "Let Mrs. Embury retire to her room, if
+she wishes."
+
+They had all returned to the big living-room, and Stone stood
+near a front window, now and then glancing out to the trees in
+Park Avenue below.
+
+"I don't want to retire to my room!" Eunice cried.  "I don't want
+to be set aside as if I were a child!  I did want Mr. Stone to
+investigate this whole matter, but I don't now--I've changed my
+mind!  Mason, tell him to go away!"
+
+"No, dear," and Elliott looked at her kindly, "you can't change
+your mind like that.  Mr. Stone has the case, and he will go on
+with it and when you come to yourself again, you will be glad,
+for he will free you from suspicion by finding the real
+criminal."
+
+"I don't want him to!  I don't want the criminal found!  I want
+it to be an unsolved mystery, always and forever!"
+
+"No;" Elliott spoke more firmly.  "No, Eunice, that is not what
+you want."
+
+"Stop!  I know what I want--without your telling me!  You
+overstep your privileges, Mason!  I'm not an imbecile, to be
+ignored, set aside, overruled!  I won't stand it!  Mr. Stone, you
+are discharged!"
+
+She stood, pointing to the door with a gesture that would have
+been melodramatic, had she not been so desperately in earnest.
+The soft black sleeve fell away from her soft white arm, and her
+out-stretched hand was steady and unwavering as she stood silent,
+but quivering with suppressed rage.
+
+"Eunice," and going to her, Elliott took the cold white hand in
+his own.  "Eunice," he said, and no more, but his eyes looked
+deeply into hers.
+
+She gazed steadily for a moment, and then her face softened, and
+she turned aside, and sank wearily into a chair.
+
+"Do as you like," she said, in a low murmur.  "I'll leave it to
+you, Mason.  Let Mr. Stone go ahead."
+
+"Yes, go ahead, Mr. Stone," said Aunt Abby, eagerly.  "I'll show
+you anywhere you want to go--anything you want to see I'll tell
+you all about it."
+
+"Why, do you know anything I haven't been told, Miss Ames?  I
+thought we had pretty well sized up the situation."
+
+"Yes, but I can tell you something that nobody else will listen
+to, and I think you will."
+
+Eunice started up again.  "Aunt Abby," she said, "if you begin
+that pack of fool nonsense about a vision, I'll leave the room--I
+vow I will!"
+
+"Leave, then!" retorted Aunt Abby, whose patience was also under
+a strain.
+
+But Stone said, "Wait, please, I want a few more matters
+mentioned, and then, Miss Ames, I will listen to your 'fool
+nonsense!'  First, what is this talk about money troubles between
+Mr. and Mrs. Embury?"
+
+"That," Eunice seemed interested, "is utter folly.  My husband
+objected to giving me a definite allowance, but he gave me twice
+the sum I would have asked for, and more, too, by letting me have
+charge accounts everywhere I chose."
+
+"Then you didn't kill him for that reason?" and the dark eyes of
+the detective rested on Eunice kindly.
+
+"No; I did not!" she said, curtly, and Stone returned,
+
+"I believe you, Mrs. Embury; if you were the criminal, that was
+not the motive.  Next," he went on, "what about this quarrel you
+and Mr. Embury had the night before his death?"
+
+"That was because I had disobeyed his express orders," Eunice
+said, frankly and bravely, "and I went to a bridge game at a
+house to which he had forbidden me to go.  I am sorry--and I wish
+I could tell him so."
+
+Fleming Stone looked at her closely.  Was she sincere or was she
+merely a clever actress?
+
+"A game for high stakes, I assume," he said quietly.
+
+"Very high.  Mr. Embury objected strongly to my playing there,
+but I went, hoping to win some money that I wanted."
+
+"That you wanted?  For some particular purpose?"
+
+"No; only that I might have a few dollars in my purse, as other
+women do.  It all comes back to the same old quarrel, Mr. Stone.
+You don't know! can't make you understand--how humiliating, how
+galling it is for a woman to have no money of her own!  Nobody
+understands--but I have been subjected to shame and embarrassment
+hundreds of times for the want of a bit of ready money!"
+
+"I think I do understand, Mrs. Embury.  I know how hard it must
+have been for a proud woman to have that annoyance.  Did Mr.
+Embury object to the lady who was your hostess that evening?"
+
+"Yes, he did.  Mrs. Desternay is an old school friend of mine,
+but Mr. Embury never liked her, and he objected more strenuously
+because she had the bridge games."
+
+"And the lady's attitude toward you?"
+
+"Fifi?  Oh, I don't know.  We've always been friends, generally
+speaking, but we've had quarrels now and then--sometimes we'd be
+really intimate, and then again, we wouldn't speak for six weeks
+at a time.  Just petty tiffs, you know, but they seemed serious
+at the time."
+
+"I see.  Hello, here's McGuire!"
+
+Ferdinand, with a half-apologetic look, ushered in a boy, with
+red hair, and a very red face.  He was a freckled youth, and his
+bright eyes showed quick perception as they darted round the
+room, and came to rest on Miss Ames, on whom he smiled broadly.
+"This is my assistant," Stone said, casually; "his name is
+Terence McGuire, and he is an invaluable help.  Anything doing,
+son?"
+
+"Not partickler.  Kin I sit and listen?"
+
+Clearly the lad was embarrassed, probably at the unaccustomed
+luxury of his surroundings and the presence of so many high-bred
+strangers.  For Terence, or Fibsy, as he was nicknamed, was a
+child of the streets, and though a clever assistant to Fleming
+Stone in his career, the boy seldom accompanied his employer to
+the homes of the aristocracy.  When he did do so, he was seized
+with a shyness that was by no means evident when he was in his
+more congenial surroundings.
+
+He glanced bashfully at Eunice, attracted by her beauty, but
+afraid to look at her attentively.  He gazed at Mason Elliott
+with a more frank curiosity; and then he cast a furtive look at
+Aunt Abby, who was herself smiling at him.
+
+It was a genial, whole-souled smile, for the old lady had a soft
+spot in her heart for boys, and was already longing to give him
+some fruit and nuts from the sideboard.
+
+Fibsy seemed to divine her attitude, and he grinned affably, and
+was more at his ease.
+
+But he sat quietly while the others went on discussing the
+details of the case.
+
+Eunice was amazed at such a strange partner for the great man,
+but she quickly thought that a street urchin like that could go
+to places and learn of side issues in ways which the older man
+could not compass so conveniently.
+
+Presently Fibsy slipped from his seat, and quietly went into the
+bedrooms.
+
+Eunice raise her eyebrows slightly, but Fleming Stone, observing,
+said, "Don't mind, Mrs. Embury.  The lad is all right.  I'll
+vouch for him."
+
+"A queer helper," remarked Elliott.
+
+"Yes; but very worth-while.  I rely on him in many ways, and he
+almost never fails to help me.  He's now looking over the
+bedrooms, just as I did, and he'll disturb nothing."
+
+"Mercy me!" exclaimed Aunt Abby; "maybe he won't--but I don't
+like boys prowling among my things!" and she scurried after him.
+
+She found him in her room, and rather gruffly said, "What are you
+up to, boy?"
+
+"Snuff, ma'am," he replied, with a comical wink, which ought to
+have shocked the old lady, but which, somehow, had a contrary
+effect.
+
+"Do you like candy?" she asked--unnecessarily, she knew--and
+offered him a box from a drawer.
+
+Fibsy felt that a verbal answer was not called for, and, helping
+himself, proceeded to munch the sweets, contentedly and
+continuously.
+
+"Say," he burst out, after a thoughtful study of the room, "where
+was that there dropper thing found, anyhow?"
+
+"In this medicine chest--"
+
+"Naw; I mean where'd the girl find it?--the housework girl."
+
+"You seem to know a lot about the matter!"
+
+"Sure I do.  Where'd you say?"
+
+"Right here," and Aunt Abby pointed to a place on the rug near
+the head of her bed.  It was a narrow bed, which had been brought
+there for her during her stay.
+
+"Huh!  Now you could'a dropped it there?"
+
+"I know," and Aunt Abby whispered, "Nobody'll believe me, but I
+know!"
+
+"You do!  Say, you're some wiz!  Spill it to me, there's a dear!"
+
+Fibsy was, in his way, a psychologist, and he knew by instinct
+that this old lady would like him better if he retained his
+ignorant, untutored ways, than if he used the more polished
+speech, which he had painstakingly acquired for other kinds of
+occasions.
+
+"I wonder if you'd understand.  For a boy, you're a bright one--"
+
+"Oh, yes, ma'am.  I am!  They don't make 'em no brighter 'n me!
+Try me, do, Miss Ames!  I'm right there with the goods."
+
+"Well, child, it's this: I saw a--a vision--"
+
+"Yes'm, I know--I mean I know what visions are, they're fine,
+too!"  He fairly smacked his lips in gusto, and it encouraged
+Aunt Abby to proceed.
+
+"Yes, and it was the ghost of--who do you suppose it was?"
+
+"Your grandmother, ma'am?"  The boy's attitude was eagerly
+attentive and his freckled little face was drawn in a desperate
+interest.
+
+"No!"  Aunt Abby drew closer and just breathed the words, "Mr.
+Embury!"
+
+"Oh!"  Fibsy was really startled, and his eyes opened wide, as he
+urged, "Go on, ma'am!"
+
+"Yes.  Well, it was just at the moment that Mr. Embury was--that
+he died--you know."
+
+"Yes'm, they always comes then, ma'am!"
+
+"I know it, and oh, child, this is a true story!"
+
+"Oh, yes, ma'am--I know it is!"
+
+Indeed one could scarcely doubt it, for Aunt Abby, having found
+an interested listener at last, poured forth her account of her
+strange experience, not caring for comment or explanation, since
+she had found some one who believed!
+
+"Yes, it was just at that time--I know, because it was almost
+daylight--just before dawn--and I was asleep, but not entirely
+asleep--"
+
+"Sort'a half dozing--"
+
+"Yes; and Sanford--Mr. Embury, you know, came gliding through my
+room, and he stopped at my bedside to say good-by--"
+
+"Was he alive?" asked Fibsy, awe-struck at her hushed tones and
+bright, glittering eyes.
+
+"Oh, no, it was his spirit, you see--his disembodied spirit"
+
+"How could you see it, then?"
+
+"When spirits appear like that, they are visible."
+
+"Oh, ma'am--I didn't know."
+
+"Yes, and I not only saw him but he was evident to all my five
+senses!"
+
+"What, ma'am?  What do you mean?"
+
+Fibsy drew back, a little scared, as Aunt Abby clutched his
+sleeve in her excitement.  He felt uneasy, for it was growing
+dusk, and the old lady was in such a state of nervous
+exhilaration that he shrank a little from her proximity.
+
+But Fibsy was game.  "Go on, ma'am," he whispered.
+
+"Yes," Aunt Abby declared, with an eerie smile of triumph, "I saw
+him--I heard him--I felt him--I smelled him--and, I tasted him!"
+
+Fibsy nearly shrieked, for at each enumeration of her marvelous
+experiences, Miss Ames grasped his arm tighter and emphasized her
+statements by pounding on his shoulder.
+
+She seemed unaware of his personal presence--she talked more as
+if recounting the matter to herself, but she used him as a
+general audience and the boy had to make a desperate effort to
+preserve his poise.
+
+And then it struck him that the old lady was crazy, or else she
+really had an important story to tell.  In either case, it was
+his duty to let Fleming Stone hear it, at first hand, if
+possible.  But he felt sure that to call in the rest of the
+household, or to take the narrator out to them would--as he
+expressed it to himself "upset her applecart and spill the
+beans!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+THE FIVE SENSES
+
+
+However he decided quickly, it must be done, so he said,
+diplomatically, "This is awful int'restin', Miss Ames, and I'm
+just dead sure and certain Mr. Stone'd think so, too.  Let's go
+out and get it off where he c'n hear it.  What say?"
+
+The boy had risen and was edging toward the door.  Rather than
+lose her audience, Aunt Abby followed, and in a moment the pair
+appeared in the living-room, where Fleming Stone was still
+talking to Eunice and Mr. Elliott.
+
+"Miss Ames, now, she's got somethin' worth tellin'," Fibsy
+announced.  "This yarn of hers is pure gold and a yard wide, Mr.
+Stone, and you oughter hear it, sir."
+
+"Gladly," and Stone gave Aunt Abby a welcoming smile.
+
+Nothing loath to achieve the center of the stage, the old lady
+seated herself in her favorite arm-chair, and began:
+
+"It was almost morning," she said, "a faint dawn began to make
+objects about the room visible, when I opened my eyes and saw a
+dim, gliding figure--"
+
+Eunice gave an angry exclamation, and rising quickly from her
+chair, walked into her own room, and closed the door with a slam
+that left no doubt as to her state of mind.
+
+"Let her alone," advised Elliott; "she's better off in there.
+What is this story, Aunt Abby?  I've never heard it in full."
+
+"No; Eunice never would let me tell it.  But it will solve all
+mystery of Sanford's death."
+
+"Then it is indeed important," and Stone looked at the speaker
+intently.
+
+"Yes, Mr. Stone, it will prove beyond all doubt that Mr. Embury
+was a suicide."
+
+"Go on, then," said Elliott, briefly.
+
+"I will.  In the half light, I saw this figure I just mentioned.
+It wasn't discernible clearly--it was merely a moving shadow--a
+vague shape.  It came toward me--"
+
+"From which direction?  "asked Stone, with decided interest.
+
+"From Eunice's room--that is, it had, of course, come from Mr.
+Embury's room, through Eunice's room, and so on into my room.
+For it was Sanford Embury's spirit--get that firmly in your
+minds!"
+
+The old lady spoke with asperity, for she was afraid of
+contradiction, and resented their quite apparent scepticism.
+
+"Go on, please," urged Stone.
+
+"Well, the spirit came nearer my bed, and paused and looked down
+on me where I lay."
+
+"Did you see his face?" asked Elliott.
+
+"Dimly.  I can't seem to make you understand how vague the whole
+thing was--and yet it was there!  As he leaned over me, I saw
+him--saw the indistinct shape--and I heard the sound of a watch
+ticking.  It was not my watch, it was a very faint ticking one,
+but all else was so still, that I positively heard it."
+
+"Gee!" said Fibsy, in an explosive whisper.
+
+"Then he seemed about to move away.  Impulsively, I made a
+movement to detain him.  Almost without volition--acting on
+instinct--I put out my hand and clutched his arm.  I felt his
+sleeve--it wasn't a coat sleeve--nor a pajama sleeve--it seemed
+to have on his gymnasium suit--the sleeve was like woolen
+jersey--"
+
+"And you felt this?"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Stone, I felt it distinctly--and not only with my hand
+as I grasped at his arm but" Aunt Abby hesitated an instant, then
+went on, "But I bit at him!  Yes, I did!  I don't know why, only
+I was possessed with an impulse to hold him--and he was slipping
+away.  I didn't realize at the time--who--what it was, and I sort
+of thought it was a burglar.  But, anyway, I bit at him, and so I
+bit at the woolen sleeve--it was unmistakable--and on it I tasted
+raspberry jam."
+
+"What!" cried her hearers almost in concert.
+
+"Yes--you needn't laugh--I guess I know the taste of raspberry
+jam, and it was on that sleeve, as sure as I'm sitting here!"
+
+"Gee!" repeated Fibsy, his fists clenched on his knees and his
+bright eyes fairly boring into the old lady's countenance.  "Gee
+whiz!"
+
+"Go on," said Stone, quietly.
+
+"And--I smelt gasoline," concluded Miss Ames defiantly.  "Now,
+sir, there's the story.  Make what you will out of it, it's every
+word true.  I've thought it over and over, since I realized what
+it all meant, and had I known at the time it was Sanford's
+spirit, I should have spoken to him.  But as it was, I was too
+stunned to speak, and when I tried to hold him, he slipped away,
+and disappeared.  But it was positively a materialization of
+Sanford Embury's flitting spirit--and nothing else."
+
+"The vision may argue a passing soul," Stone said kindly, as if
+humoring her, "but the effect on your other senses, seems to me
+to indicate a living person."
+
+"No," and Aunt Abby spoke with deep solemnity, "a materialized
+spirit is evident to our senses--one or another of them.  In
+this case I discerned it by all five senses, which is unusual
+--possibly unique; but I am very psychic--very sensitive to
+spiritual manifestations."
+
+"You have seen ghosts before, then?"
+
+"Oh, yes.  I have visions often.  But never such a strange one."
+
+"And where did this spirit disappear to?"
+
+"It just faded.  It seemed to waft on across the room.  I closed
+my eyes involuntarily, and when I opened them again it was gone."
+
+"Leaving no trace behind?"
+
+"The faint odor of gasoline--and the taste of raspberry jam on my
+tongue."
+
+Fibsy snickered, but suppressed it at once, and said, "And he
+left the little dropper-thing beside your bed?"
+
+"Yes, boy!  You seem clairvoyant yourself!  He did.  It was
+Sanford, of course; he had killed himself with the poison, and he
+tried to tell me so--but he couldn't make any communication--they
+rarely can--so he left the tiny implement, that we might know and
+understand."
+
+"H'm, yes;" and Stone sat thinking.  "Now, Miss Ames, you must
+not be offended at what I'm about to say.  I don't disbelieve
+your story at all.  You tell it too honestly for that.  I fully
+believe you saw what you call a 'vision.'  But you have thought
+over it and brooded over it, until you think you saw more than
+you did--or less!  But, leaving that aside for the moment, I want
+you to realize that your theory of suicide, based on the 'vision'
+is not logical.  Supposing your niece were guilty--as the
+detectives think--might not Mr. Embury's spirit have pursued the
+same course?"
+
+Aunt Abby pondered.  Then, her eyes flashing, she cried, "Do you
+mean he put the dropper in my room to throw suspicion on me,
+instead of on his wife?"
+
+"There is a chance for such a theory."
+
+"Sanford wouldn't do such a thing!  He was truly fond of me!"
+
+"But to save his wife?"
+
+"I never thought of all that.  Maybe he did--or, maybe he dropped
+the thing accidentally--"
+
+"Maybe."  Stone spoke preoccupiedly.
+
+Mason Elliott, too, sat in deep thought.  At last he said:
+
+"Aunt Abby, if I were you, I wouldn't tell that yarn to anybody
+else.  Let's all forget it, and call it merely a dream."
+
+"What do you mean, Mason?  "The old lady bridled, having no wish
+to hear her marvelous experience belittled.  "It wasn't a dream
+--not an ordinary dream--it was a true appearance of Sanford,
+after his death.  You know such things do happen--look at that
+son of Sir Oliver Lodge.  You don't doubt that, do you?"
+
+"Never mind those things.  But I earnestly beg of you, Aunt Abby,
+to forget the episode--or, at least, to promise me you'll not
+repeat it to any one else."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I think it wiser for all concerned--for all concerned--that the
+tale shall not become public property."
+
+"But why?"
+
+"Oh, my land!" burst out Fibsy; "don't you see?  The ghost was
+Mrs. Embury!"
+
+The boy had put into words what was in the thoughts of both Stone
+and Elliott.  They realized that, while Aunt Abby's experience
+might have been entirely a dream, it was so circumstantial as to
+indicate a real occurrence, and in that case, what solution so
+plausible as that Eunice, after committing the crime, wandered
+into her aunt's room, and whether purposely or accidentally,
+dropped the implement of death?
+
+Stone, bent on investigation, plied Miss Ames with questions.
+
+Elliott, sorely afraid for Eunice, begged the old lady not to
+answer.
+
+"You are inventing!" he cried.  "You are drawing on your
+imagination!  Don't believe all that, Mr. Stone.  It isn't fair
+to--to Mrs. Embury!"
+
+"Then you see it as I do, Mr. Elliott?" and Stone turned to him
+quickly.  "But, even so, we must look into this story.  Suppose,
+as an experiment, we build up a case against Mrs. Embury, for the
+purpose of knocking it down again.  A man of straw--you know."
+
+"Don't," pleaded Elliott.  "Just forget the rigmarole of the
+nocturnal vision--and devote your energies to finding the real
+murderer.  I have a theory--"
+
+"Wait, Mr. Elliott, I fear you are an interested investigator.
+Don't forget that you have been mentioned as one of those with
+'motive but no opportunity.' "
+
+"Since you have raised that issue, Mr. Stone, let me say right
+here that my regard for Mrs. Embury is very great.  It is also
+honorable and lifelong.  I make no secret of it, but I declare to
+you that its very purity and intensity puts it far above and
+beyond any suspicion of being 'motive' for the murder of Mrs.
+Embury's huband."
+
+Mason Elliott looked Fleming Stone straight in the eye and the
+speaker's tone and expression carried a strong conviction of
+sincerity.
+
+Fibsy, too, scrutinized Elliott.
+
+"Good egg!" he observed to himself; "trouble is--he'd give us
+that same song and dance if he'd croaked the guy his own self!"
+
+"Furthermore," Stone went on, "Mrs. Embury shows a peculiarly
+strong repugnance to hearing this story of Miss Ames' experience.
+That looks--"
+
+"Oh, fiddlesticks!" cried Miss Ames, who had been listening in
+amazement; "it wasn't Eunice!  Why would she rig up in Sanford's
+gym jersey?"
+
+"Why wouldn't she?" countered Stone.  "As I said, we're building
+up a supposititious case.  Assume that it was Mrs. Embury, not at
+all enacting a ghost, but merely wandering around after her
+impulsive deed--for if she is the guilty party it must have been
+an impulsive deed.  You know her uncontrollable temper--her
+sudden spasms of rage--"
+
+"Mr. Stone, a 'man of straw,' as you call it, is much more easily
+built up than knocked down." Elliott spoke sternly.  "I hold you
+have no right to assume Mrs. Embury's identity in this story Miss
+Ames tells."
+
+"Is there anything that points to her in your discernment by your
+five senses, Miss Ames?" Stone asked, very gravely.  "Has Mrs.
+Embury a faintly ticking watch?"
+
+"Yes, her wrist-watch," Aunt Abby answered, though speaking
+evidently against her will.
+
+"And it is possible that she slipped on her husband's jersey; and
+it is possible there was raspberry jam on the sleeve of it.  You
+see, I am not doubting the evidence of your senses.  Now, as to
+the gasoline.  Had Mrs. Embury, or her maid, by any chance, been
+cleaning any laces or finery with gasoline?"
+
+"I won't tell you!" and Aunt Abby shook her head so obstinately
+that it was quite equivalent to an affirmative answer!
+
+"Now, you see, Aunt Abby," protested Elliott, in an agonized
+voice, "why I want you to shut up about that confounded 'vision'!
+You are responsible for this case Mr. Stone is so ingeniously
+building up against Eunice!  You are getting her into a desperate
+coil, from which it will be difficult to extricate her!  If Shane
+got hold of this absurd yarn--"
+
+"It's not entirely absurd," broke in Stone, "but I agree with
+you, Mr. Elliott; if Shane learns of it--he won't investigate any
+further!"
+
+"He shan't know of it," was the angry retort.  "I got you here,
+Mr. Stone--"
+
+"To discover the truth, or to free Mrs. Embury?"
+
+There was a pause, and the two men looked at each other.  Then
+Mason Elliott said, in a low voice, "To free Mrs. Embury."
+
+"I can't take the case that way," Stone replied.  "I will abandon
+the whole affair, or--I will find out the truth."
+
+"Abandon it!" cried a ringing voice, and the door of her bedroom
+was flung open as Eunice again appeared.
+
+She was in a towering fury, her face was white and her lips
+compressed to a straight scarlet line.
+
+"Give up the case!  I will take my chances with any judge or jury
+rather than with you!"  She faced Stone like the "Tiger" her
+husband had nicknamed her.  "I have heard every word--Aunt Abby's
+story--and your conclusions!  Your despicable 'deductions,' as I
+suppose you call them!  I've had enough of the 'celebrated
+detective'!  Quite enough of Fleming Stone--and his work!"
+
+She stepped back and gazed at him with utter scorn beautiful as a
+sculptured Medea, haughty as a tragedy queen.
+
+"Independent as a pig on ice!" Fibsy communicated with himself,
+and he stared at her with undisguised admiration.
+
+"Eunice," and the pain in Mason Elliott's voice was noticeable;
+"Eunice, dear, don't do yourself such injustice."
+
+"Why not?  When everybody is unjust to me!  You, Mason, you and
+this--this infallible detective sit here and deliberately build
+up what you call a 'case' against me--me, Eunice Embury!  Oh--I
+hate you all!"
+
+A veritable figure of hate incarnate, she stood, her white hands
+clasping each other tightly, as they hung against her black gown.
+Her head held high, her whole attitude fiercely defiant, she
+flung out her words with a bitterness that betokened the end of
+her endurance--the limit of her patience.
+
+Then her hands fell apart, her whole body drooped, and sinking
+down on the wide sofa, she sat, hopelessly facing them, but with
+head erect and the air of one vanquished but very much unsubdued.
+
+"Take that back, Eunice," Elliott spoke passionately, and quite
+as if there were no others present; "you do not hate me--I am
+here to help you!"
+
+"You can't, Mason; no one can help me.  No one can protect me
+from Fleming Stone!"
+
+The name was uttered with such scorn as to seem an invective of
+itself!
+
+Stone betrayed no annoyance at her attitude toward him, but
+rather seemed impressed with her personality.  He gave her a
+glance that was not untinged with admiration, but he made no
+defence.
+
+"I can," cried Fibsy, who was utterly routed by Eunice's
+imperious beauty.  "You go ahead with Mr. F. Stone, ma'am, and
+I'll see to it that they ain't no injustice done to you!"
+
+Stone looked at his excited young assistant with surprise, and
+then good-naturedly contented himself with a shake of his head,
+and a
+
+"Careful, Terence."
+
+"Yes, sir--but, oh, Mr. Stone--" and then, at a gesture from the
+great detective the boy paused, abashed, and remained silent.
+
+"Now, Miss Ames," Stone began, "in Mrs. Embury's presence, I'll
+ask you--"
+
+"You won't ask me anything, sir," she returned crisply.  "I'm
+going out.  I've a very important errand to do."
+
+"Oh, I don't know about that," Elliott said; "it's almost six
+o'clock, Aunt Abby.  Where are you going?"
+
+"I've got an errand--a very important errand--an appointment, in
+fact.  I must go--don't you dare oppose me, Mason.  You'll be
+sorry if you do!"
+
+Even as she spoke, the old lady was scurrying to her room, from
+which she returned shortly, garbed for the street.
+
+"All right," Stone said, in reply to a whisper from Fibsy, and
+the boy offered, respectfully:
+
+"Let me go with you, Miss Ames.  It ain't fittin' you should go
+alone.  It's 'most dark."
+
+"Come on, boy," Aunt Abby regarded him kindly; "I'd be glad of
+your company."
+
+At the street door, the old lady asked for a taxicab, and the
+strangely assorted pair were soon on their way.
+
+"You're a bright lad, Fibsy," she said; "by the way, what's your
+real name--I forget."
+
+"Terence, ma'am; Terence McGuire.  I wish't I was old enough to
+be called McGuire!  I'd like that."
+
+"I'll call you that, if you wish.  You're old for your age, I'm
+sure.  How old are you?"
+
+"Goin' on about fifteen or sixteen--I think.  I sort'a forget."
+
+"Nonsense!  You can't forget your age!  Why do they call you
+Fibsy?"
+
+"'Cause I'm a born liar--'scuse me--a congenital prevaricator, I
+meant to say.  You see, ma'am, it's necessary in my business not
+always to employ the plain unvarnished.  But don't be alarmed,
+ma'am; when I take a fancy to anybuddy, as I have to you, ma'am,
+I don't never lie to 'em.  Not that I s'pose you'd care, eh,
+ma'am?"
+
+Aunt Abby laughed.  "You are a queer lad!  Why, I'm not sure I'd
+care, if it didn't affect me in any way.  I'm not responsible for
+your truthfulness--though I don't mind advising you that you
+ought to be a truthful boy."
+
+"Land, ma'am!  Don't you s'pose I know that?  But, honest now,
+are you always just exactly, abserlutely truthful, yourself?"
+
+"Certainly I am!  What do you mean by speaking to me like that?"
+
+"Well, don't you ever touch up a yarn a little jest sort'a to
+make it more interestin' like?  Most ladies do--that is, most
+ladies of intelligence and brains--which you sure have got in
+plenty!"
+
+"There, there, boy; I'm afraid I've humored you too much you're
+presuming."
+
+"I presume I am.  But one question more, while we're on this
+absorbin' subject.  Didn't you, now, just add a jot or a tittle
+to that ghost story you put over?  Was it every bit on the dead
+level?"
+
+"Yes, child," Aunt Abby took his question seriously; "it was
+every word true.  I didn't make up the least word of it!"
+
+"I believe you, ma'am, and I congratulate you on your clarviant
+powers.  Now, about that raspberry jam, ma'am.  That's a mighty
+unmistakable taste--ain't it, now."
+
+"It is, McGuire.  It certainly is.  And I tasted it, just as
+surely as I'm here telling you about it."
+
+"Have you had it for supper lately, ma'am?"
+
+"No; Eunice hasn't had it on her table since I've been visiting
+her."
+
+"Is that so, ma'am?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+MARIGNY THE MEDIUM
+
+
+The journey ended at the rooms of Marigny, the psychic
+recommended by Willy Hanlon.
+
+As Fibsy, his bright eyes wide with wonder, found himself in the
+unmistakable surroundings of dingy draperies, a curtained cabinet
+and an odor of burning incense, he exclaimed to himself, "Gee!  a
+clairviant!  Now for some fun!"
+
+Aunt Abby, apparently aware of the proprieties of the occasion,
+seated herself, and waited patiently.
+
+At a gesture from her, Fibsy obediently took a seat near her, and
+waited quietly, too.
+
+Soon the psychic entered.  He was robed in a long, black garment,
+and wore a heavy, white turban, swathed in folds.  His face was
+olive-colored--what was visible of it for his beard was white and
+flowing, and a heavy drooping moustache fell over his lips.
+Locks of white hair showed from the turban's edge, and a pair of
+big, rubber-rimmed glasses of an amber tint partially hid his
+eyes.
+
+The whole make-up was false, it was clear to be seen, but a
+psychic has a right to disguise himself, if he choose.
+
+Fibsy gave Marigny one quick glance and then the boy assumed
+an expression of face quite different from his usual one.  He
+managed to look positively vacant-minded.  His eyes became
+lack-luster, his mouth, slightly open, looked almost imbecile,
+and his roving glance betokened no interest whatever in the
+proceedings.
+
+"Mr. Marigny?" said Miss Ames, eagerly anxious for the seance to
+begin.
+
+"Yes, madam.  You are three minutes late!"
+
+"I couldn't help it--the traffic is very heavy at this hour."
+
+"And you should have come alone.  I cannot concentrate with an
+alien influence in the room."
+
+"Oh, the boy isn't an alien influence.  He's a little friend of
+mine--he'll do no harm."
+
+"I'll go out, if you say, mister," Fibsy turned his indifferent
+gaze on the clairvoyant.
+
+"You'll do nothing of the sort," spoke up Miss Ames.  "I'm
+accustomed to seances, Mr. Marigny, and if you're all right--as I
+was told you were--a child's presence won't interfere."
+
+Evidently the psychic saw he had no novice to deal with, and he
+accepted the situation.
+
+"What do you want to know?  "he asked his client.
+
+"Who killed Sanford Embury--or, did he kill himself."  I want you
+to get into communication with his spirit and find out from him.
+But I don't want any make-believe.  If you can't succeed, that's
+all right--I'll pay your fee just the same.  But no poppycock."
+
+"That's the way to look at it, madam.  I will go into the
+silence, and I will give you only such information as I get
+myself."
+
+The man leaned back in his chair, and gradually seemed to enter a
+hypnotic state.  His muscles relaxed, his face became still and
+set, and his breathing was slow and a little labored.
+
+Fibsy retained his vacuous look he even fidgeted a little, in a
+bored way--and rarely glanced toward the man of "clear sight."
+
+Miss Ames, though anxious for results, was alert and quite on her
+guard against fraud.  Experienced in fake mediums, she believed
+Willy Hanlon's assertion that this man was one of the few genuine
+mystics, but she proposed to judge for herself.
+
+At last Marigny spoke.  His voice was low, his tones monotonous
+and uninflected.
+
+"Aunt Abby--Aunt Westminster Abbey" the words came slowly.
+
+Miss Ames gave a startled jump.  Her face blanched and she
+trembled as she clutched Fibsy's arm.
+
+"That's what Sanford used to call me!" she whispered.  "Can it
+really be his spirit talking to me through the medium!"
+
+"Don't worry," the voice went on, "don't grieve for me--it's all
+right--let it go that I took my own life--"
+
+"But did you, Sanford--did you?  "Miss Ames implored.
+
+"It would be better you should never know."
+
+"I must know.  I've got to know!  Tell me, Sanford.  It wasn't
+Eunice?
+
+"No--it wasn't Eunice."
+
+"Was it--oh, San--was it--I?"
+
+"Yes, Aunt Abby--it was.  But you were entirely irresponsible
+--you were asleep--hypnotized, perhaps--perhaps merely asleep."
+
+"Where did I get the stuff?"
+
+"I think somebody hypnotized you and gave it to you--"
+
+"When?  Where?"
+
+"I don't know--it is vague--uncertain--But you put it in my ear
+--remember, Aunt Abby, I don't blame you at all.  And you must
+not tell this.  You must let it go as suicide.  That is the only
+way to save yourself--"
+
+"But they suspect Eunice--"
+
+"They'll never convict her--nor would they convict you.  Tell
+them you got into communication with my spirit and I said it was
+suicide."
+
+"Ask him about the raspberry jam," put in Fibsy, in a stage
+whisper.
+
+"What!" the medium came out of his trance suddenly and glared at
+the boy.
+
+"I told you I could do nothing if the child stayed here," Marigny
+cried, evidently in a towering passion.  "Put him out.  Who is
+he?  What is he talking about?"
+
+"Nothing of importance.  Keep still, McGuire.  Can you get Mr.
+Embury's spirit back, sir?"
+
+"No, the communion is too greatly disturbed.  Boy, what do you
+mean by raspberry jam?"
+
+"Oh, nothin'," and Fibsy wriggled bashfully.  "You tell him, Miss
+Ames."
+
+It needed little encouragement to launch Aunt Abby on the story
+of her "vision" and she told it in full detail.
+
+Marigny seemed interested, though a little impatient, and tried
+to hurry the recital.
+
+"It was, without doubt, Embury's spirit," he said, as Aunt Abby
+finished; "but your imagination has exaggerated and elaborated
+the facts.  For instance, I think the jam and the gasoline are
+added by your fancy, in order to fill out the full tale of your
+five senses."
+
+"That's what I thought," and Fibsy nodded his head.  "Raspberry
+jam!  Oh, gee!" he exploded in a burst of silly laughter.
+
+Marigny looked at him with a new interest.  The amber-colored
+glasses, turned toward the boy seemed to frighten him, and he
+began to whimper.
+
+"I didn't mean any harm," he said, "but raspberry jam was so
+funny for a ghost to have on him!"
+
+"It would have been," assented Marigny, "but that, I feel sure,
+existed only in Miss Ames' fancy.  Her mind, upset by the vision,
+had strange hallucinations, and the jam was one--you know we
+often have grotesque dreams."
+
+"So we do," agreed Fibsy; "why once I drempt that--"
+
+"Excuse me, young sir, but I've no time to listen to your dreams.
+The seance is at an end, madam.  Your companion probably cut it
+off prematurely--but perhaps not.  Perhaps the communication was
+about over, anyway.  Are you satisfied, Miss Ames?"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Marigny.  I know the appearance of Mr. Embury was a
+genuine visitation, for he called me by a peculiar name which no
+one else ever used, and which you could not possibly know about."
+
+"That is indeed a positive test.  I am glad you received what you
+wished for.  The fee is ten dollars, madam."
+
+Aunt Abby paid it willingly enough, and with Fibsy, took her
+departure.
+
+On reaching home they found Alvord Hendricks there.  Mason
+Elliott had tarried and Fleming Stone, too, was still there.
+Eunice was awaiting Aunt Abby's return to have dinner served.
+
+"I thought you'd never come, Auntie," said Eunice, greeting her
+warmly.  Eunice was in a most pleasant mood, and seemed to have
+become entirely reconciled to the presence of Stone.
+
+"You will dine here, too, Terence," she said kindly to the boy,
+who replied, "Yes, ma'am," very respectfully.
+
+"Well, Eunice," Aunt Abby announced, after they were seated at
+the table, "I'm the criminal, after all."
+
+"You seem pretty cheerful about it," said Hendricks, looking at
+her in astonishment.
+
+"Well, I wasn't responsible.  I did it under compulsory
+hypnotism."
+
+"You owned up to it before, Aunt Abby," said Eunice, humoring
+her; "you said--"
+
+"I know, Eunice, but that time it was to shield you.  Now, I know
+for certain that I did do it, and how it came about."
+
+"Dear Aunt Abby," and Elliott spoke very gently, "don't you talk
+about it any more.  Your vagaries are tolerated by us, who love
+you, but Mr. Stone is bored by them--"
+
+"Not at all," said Fleming Stone; "on the contrary, I'm deeply
+interested.  Tell me all about it, Miss Ames.  Where have you
+been?"
+
+Thus encouraged, Aunt Abby told all.
+
+She described the seance truthfully, Fibsy's bright eyes--not
+lack-luster now--darting glances at her and at Stone as the tale
+proceeded.
+
+"He was the real thing--wasn't he, McGuire?"  Miss Ames appealed
+to him, at last.
+
+"You bet!  Why, if the side wire of his beard hadn't fetched
+loose and if his walnut juice complexion hadn't stopped a mite
+short of his collar, I'd a took him for a sure-fire Oriental!"
+
+"Don't be so impertinent, Terence," reproved Stone; "Miss Ames
+knows better than you do."
+
+"It doesn't matter that he was made up that way," Aunt Abby said,
+serenely; "they often do that.  But he was genuine, I know,
+because--why, Eunice, what did Sanford use to call me--for fun
+--Aunt what?"
+
+"Aunt Westminter Abbey," said Eunice, smiling at the
+recollection.
+
+"Yes!" triumphantly; "and that's what Sanford called me to-day
+when speaking to me through the medium.  Isn't that a proof?  How
+could that man know that?"
+
+"I can't explain that," declared Elliott, a little shortly, "but
+it's all rubbish, and I don't think you ought to be allowed to go
+to such places!  It's disgraceful--"
+
+"You hush up, Mason," Miss Ames cried; "I'll go where I like!
+I'm not a child.  And, too, I wasn't alone--I had an escort--a
+very nice one."  She looked kindly at Fibsy.
+
+"Thank you, ma'am," he returned, bobbing his funny red head.  "I
+sure enjoyed myself."
+
+"You didn't look so; you looked half asleep."
+
+"I always enjoy myself when I'm asleep--and half a loaf is
+better'n no bed," the boy grinned at her.
+
+"Well, it may all be rubbish," Alvord Hendricks said, musingly;
+"and it probably is--but there are people, Mason, who don't think
+so.  Anyway, here's my idea.  If Aunt Abby thinks she poisoned
+Sanford, under hypnotism--or any other way--for the love of
+heaven, let it go at that!  If you don't--suspicion will turn
+back to Eunice again--and that's what we want to prevent.  Now,
+no jury would ever convict an old lady--"
+
+"Nor any woman," said Elliott.  "But that isn't the whole thing.
+I say, Alvord, since Mr. Stone is on the job, suppose we give him
+full swing--and let him find the real murderer.  It wasn't
+Eunice!"
+
+His words rang out so vibrantly that Stone gave him a quick
+glance.  "You're sure?" he asked, as it seemed, involuntarily.
+
+"I am," responded Elliott, with a satisfied nod of his handsome
+head.
+
+"But your being sure doesn't help much, Mason," Eunice said, a
+despondent look coming into her eyes.  "Are you sure, Mr. Stone?"
+
+"I can't quite answer that question yet, Mrs. Embury," the
+courteous voice replied.  "Remember, I've only just begun to look
+into the matter."
+
+"But you know all about it--from Mr. Shane and Mr. Driscoll."
+
+"I know what they think about it--but that's a different story."
+
+"You don't agree with their deductions, then?" asked Hendricks.
+
+"I don't agree with their premises--therefore--"  Stone smiled
+cryptically, and left the sentence unfinished and ambiguous,
+which was his deliberate intention.
+
+"We will have coffee in the living-room," said Eunice, as she
+rose from the table.  Always a charming hostess, she was at her
+best to-night.  Her thin black gown was becoming and made her
+fair throat and arms seem even whiter by contrast.
+
+She stood back, as the others left the room, and Hendricks,
+tarrying, too, came close to her.
+
+"Brace up, dear," he said; "it will all come out right.  I'm
+sorry Elliott dragged in this Stone, but--it will be all right,
+somehow."
+
+"But it's all so mysterious, Alvord.  I don't know what to do--or
+say--"
+
+"Don't lose your temper, Eunice.  Let me advise you strongly as
+to that.  It never does any good--it militates against you.  And
+here's another thing--Are you afraid of the little Desternay?"
+
+"Afraid--how?" but Eunice paled.
+
+"Afraid--she knows something--oh, something injurious to--"
+
+"To me?  She knows heaps!"  The haughty head tossed, and Eunice
+looked defiant.
+
+"You beauty!" and Hendricks took a step nearer.  "Oh, you
+splendid thing!  How I adore you.  Eunice--you are a goddess
+to-night!  And you are for me!  Some day--oh, I'm not going to
+say it now---don't look so alarmed--but, you know--oh, Sweet, you
+know!  And you yes, you, too, my splendid Tiger--"'
+
+"Hush, Alvord!  Never call me that!"
+
+"No, I beg pardon.  And I don't want to.  That was San's own name
+for you.  I shall call you my Queen!  My glorious Queen-woman!"
+
+"Oh, stop!  Don't you dare make love to me!
+
+"And don't you dare say 'dare' to me!  I dare all--"
+
+Ferdinand's entrance cut short this dialogue, and Eunice and
+Hendricks went into the other room.
+
+Almost immediately a visitor was announced,, and Hanlon came in.
+
+"Why, Mr. Hanlon," Eunice said, greeting him cordially, "I'm glad
+to see you again."
+
+"So am I," cried Aunt Abby, hastening to welcome the newcomer.
+"Oh, Mr. Hanlon, I went to see your man--Mr. Marigny, you
+know--"
+
+"Yes?  I called to see if you had found him all right."
+
+The necessary introductions were made, and Hanlon took his place
+in the group.
+
+He was a little ill at ease, for he was by no means a member of
+"society," and though he had been at the Embury house before, he
+seemed a trifle in awe of his surroundings.
+
+"And I called, too," Hanlon said, "to offer you my respectful
+sympathy, Mrs. Embury, and ask if there's anything I can do for
+you."
+
+"Why, you're very kind," said Eunice, touched by his
+thoughtfulness, "but I'm afraid there's nothing you--anybody can
+do for me."
+
+"F. Stone can," declared Fibsy; "he can do a lot for you, Mrs.
+Embury."  The red head nodded vigorously, as was the boy's habit,
+when much in earnest.
+
+Hanlon regarded him closely, and Fibsy returned the scrutiny.
+
+"Say," the boy broke out, suddenly.  "I've seen you before.
+You're the man who found the hidden jackknife, in Newark!"
+
+"The same," and Hanlon smiled at him.  "Were you present?"
+
+"I sure was!  Gee!  You're a wonder!"
+
+"I was a wonder, but I don't do wonderful things any more."
+
+"What do you do now?"
+
+"Yes," chimed in Eunice, "what are you doing, Mr. Hanlon?  You
+told me you were going to take up a different line of work."
+
+"I did, Mrs. Embury; I'm a prosaic and uninteresting painter man
+nowadays."
+
+"An artist?"
+
+"In a way," and Hanlon smiled; "I paint signs--and I try to do
+them artistically."
+
+"Signs!  How dull for you--after your exciting performances!"
+
+"Not so very dull," interrupted Aunt Abby.  "I know about the
+signs Mr. Hanlon paints!  They're bigger'n a house!  They're
+--why, they're scenery--don't you know?--like you see along the
+railroad--I mean along the meadows when you're riding in the
+cars."
+
+"Oh, scenic advertising," observed Fleming Stone.  "And signs on
+the Palisades--"
+
+"Not on the natural scenery," laughed Hanlon.  "Though I've been
+tempted by high rocks or smooth-sided crags."
+
+"Are you a steeple-jack?" asked Fibsy, his eyes sparkling; "can
+you paint spires and things?"
+
+"No;" and Hanlon looked at the boy, regretfully.  "I can't do
+that.  I'm no climber.  I make the signs and then they're put
+where they belong by other workmen."
+
+"Oh," and Fibsy looked disappointed at not finding the daring
+hero he sought for.
+
+"I must not presume further on your kindness, Mrs. Embury,"
+Hanlon said, with an attempt at society jargon, "I merely called
+in for a minute.  Mr. Hendricks, are you going my way?  I want to
+see you about that sign-"
+
+"No, Hanlon--sorry, but I'm not going now," and Hendricks shook
+his head.  "I'm here for the evening."
+
+"All right see you later, then.  Where can I find you?  I'm
+something of an owl, myself."
+
+"I'll call you up after I get home--if it isn't too late,"
+Hendricks suggested.
+
+"Never too late for me.  See that you remember."
+
+Hanlon looked at Hendricks with more seriousness than the subject
+appeared to call for, then he went away.
+
+"You got the earache?" asked Fibsy suddenly, of Hendricks, as
+that gentleman half absently rubbed his ear.
+
+"Bless my soul, no!  What do you mean by such a question?  Mr.
+Stone, this boy of yours is too fresh!"
+
+"Be quiet, Terence," said Stone, paying but slight attention to
+the matter.
+
+"Oh, all right, no offense meant," and the boy grinned at
+Hendricks.  "But didn't you ever have an earache?  If not, you
+don't know what real sufferin' is!"
+
+"No, I never had it, that I remember.  Perhaps as a child--"
+
+"Why, Alvord," said Aunt Abby, "you had it fearfully about a
+month ago.  Don't you recollect?  You were afraid of
+mastoiditis."
+
+"Oh, that.  Well, that was a serious illness.  I was thinking of
+an ordinary earache, when I said I never had one.  But I beg of
+you drop the subject of my ailments!  What a thing to discuss!"
+
+"True enough," agreed Stone, "I propose we keep to the theme
+under consideration.  I've been engaged to look into this murder
+mystery.  I'm here for that purpose.  I must insist that I
+conduct my investigation in my own way."
+
+"That's the right talk," approved Elliott.  "Now, Mr. Stone,
+let's get right down to it."
+
+"Very well, the case stands thus: Shane says--and it's perfectly
+true--there are five possible suspects.  But only one of these
+had both motive and opportunity.  Now, the whole five are here
+present, and, absurd though it my seem, I'm going to ask each one
+of you the definite question.  Ferdinand," he raised his voice
+and the butler came in from the dining-room, "did you kill your
+master?"
+
+"No, God hearing me--I didn't, sir."  The man was quiet and
+composed, though his face was agonized.
+
+"That will do, you may go," said Stone.  "Mr. Elliott, did you
+kill your friend--your partner in business?"
+
+"I did not," said Elliott, curtly.  He was evidently ill-pleased
+at the question.
+
+"Mr. Hendricks, did you?"
+
+"As I have repeatedly proved, I was in Boston that night.  It
+would be impossible for me to be the criminal--but I will answer
+your ridiculous query--I did not."
+
+"Mrs. Embury, did you?"
+
+"N--no--but I would rather be suspected, than to have--"
+
+"You said no, I believe," Stone interrupted her.  "Miss Ames, do
+you really think you killed your niece's husband?"
+
+"Oh, sir--I don't know!  I can't think I did--"
+
+"Of course, you didn't, Aunt Abby!" Mason Elliott rose from his
+seat and paced up and down the room.  "I must say, Mr. Stone,
+this is a childish performance!  What makes you think any of us
+would say so, if we had killed Embury?  It is utterly absurd!"
+
+"You're absurd, Elliott," cut in Hendricks.  "Mr. Stone is a
+psychologist.  He learns what he wants to know not from what we
+say--but the way we say it.  Right, Mr. Stone?"
+
+"Right, Mr. Hendricks." Stone looked grave.  "Anything more to
+say, Mr. Elliott?"
+
+"Yes, I have!  And it's this: I asked you to come here.  I asked
+you to take this case--as you've already surmised--to free Mrs.
+Embury from wrongful suspicion.  Wrongful, mind you!  I do not
+want you to clear her if she is guilty.  But she isn't.
+Therefore, I want you to find the real criminal.  That's what I
+want!"
+
+"And that's what I'm doing."
+
+"Of course he is," Eunice defended him.  "I wish you'd keep
+still, Mason!  You talk too much--and you interfere with Mr.
+Stone's methods."
+
+"Perhaps I'd better go home, Eunice." Elliott was clearly
+offended.  "If you don't want me here, I'll go."
+
+"Oh, no--" Eunice began, but Hendricks said, "Go on, Elliott, do.
+There are too many of us here, and as Eunice's counsel, I can
+look after her interests."
+
+Mason Elliott rose, and turned to Eunice.
+
+"Shall I go?" he said, and he gave her a look of entreaty--a look
+of yearning, pleading love.
+
+"Go," she said, coldly.  "Alvord will take care of me."
+
+And Elliott went.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+FIBSY'S BUSY DAY
+
+
+"It's this way, F. Stone," said Fibsy, earnestly, "the crooks of
+the situation--"
+
+"The what?"
+
+"The crooks--that's what they call it--"
+
+"Oh, the crux."  Stone did not laugh.
+
+"Yessir--if that's how you pronounce it.  Guess I'll stick to
+plain English.  Well, to my way of thinkin', the little joker in
+the case is that there raspberry jam.  I'm a strong believer in
+raspberry jam on general principles, but in pertikler, I should
+say in this present case, raspberry jam will win the war!  Don't
+eat it!"
+
+"Thought you were going to talk plain English.  You're cryptic,
+my son."
+
+"All right--here goes.  That jam business is straight goods.  The
+old lady says she tasted jam--and she did taste jam.  That's all
+there is about that.  And that sweet, pleasant, innercent
+raspberry jam will yet send the moiderer of Mr. Embury to the
+chair!"
+
+"I think myself there's something to be looked into there, but
+how are you going about it?"
+
+"Dunno yet--but here's another thing, Mr. Stone, that I ain't had
+time to tell you yet, that--"
+
+"Suppose you begin at the beginning and tell me your story in
+order."
+
+"Supposin' I do!"  Fibsy thought a moment before he began.  It
+was the morning after the two had dined at the Embury home, and
+they were breakfasting together in Stone's hotel apartment.
+
+"Well, Mr. Stone, as you know, I left Mrs. Embury's last night
+d'eckly after Mr. Hendricks took his deeparture.  As I s'pected,
+there was trouble a-waitin' for him just outside the street
+doorway, that Hanlon chap was standing and he met up with Mr.
+Hendricks--much to the dismay of the latter!"
+
+"Your English is fine this morning--go ahead."
+
+"Well--Hanlon fell into step like with Mr. Henricks, and they
+walked along, Hanlon doing the talking.  I didn't dare get close
+enough to overhear them, for they're both live wires, and I don't
+fool either of 'em into thinking meself a ninkypoop!  So I
+trailed, but well out'a sight--and, hold on, Mr. Stone, while I
+tell you this.  The fake mejum that Miss Ames went to see
+yesterday afternoon, was none other than friend Hanlon himself!"
+
+"What?  Fibs, are you sure?"
+
+"Sure as shootin'!  I spotted him the minute he came up to Mrs.
+Embury's.  I didn't reckernize him at first as the whiskered
+Moses, but I did later.  You know, Mr. Stone, I saw him do stunts
+for newspapers in two towns, and I wonder I didn't tumble to him
+in the spookshop.  But I didn't--I dessay because when I saw him
+doing his mind-readin' tricks outdoors he was blindfolded, which
+some concealed his natural scenery.  Well, he hadn't more'n
+tripped over the Embury 'Welcome' mat, than I was onto him.  Me
+thinker woiked light lightnin' and I had him ticketed and
+pigeonholed in no time."
+
+"Is he mixed up in the Embury case?"
+
+"He's mixed up with Mr. Hendricks in some way, and he learned
+from Miss Ames that Hendricks was to be among those present, so
+he made up foolish excuses and betook himself to the vicinity of
+said Hendricks."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Wanted to converse with him, and couldn't get hold of him
+otherwise.  Hendricks, it would seem, didn't hanker for said
+conversation."
+
+"I remember Hanlon asked Mr. Hendricks if he were going his way,
+and Hendricks said he was going to spend the evening where he
+was."
+
+"Egg-zackly.  And did.  But all the same, Hanlon waited.  And a
+wait of an hour and a half registers patience and perseverance
+--to my mind."
+
+"Right you are!  And you trailed the pair?"
+
+"Did I?"  Fibsy fell back in his chair, as if exhausted.  "I
+followed them to Mr. Hendricks' home, they chatterin' glibly all
+the way--and then after a few minutes' further remarks on the
+doorstep Hendricks, he went in--and Hanlon--!  You know, Mr.
+Stone, Hanlon's nobody's fool, and he knew I was follerin' him as
+well as he knew his name!  I don't know how he knew it--for I was
+most careful to keep out'a sight, but all the same, he did know
+it--and what do you think he did?  He led me a chase of miles
+--and miles--and miles! That's what he did!"
+
+"On purpose?"
+
+"On purpose!  Laughin' in his silly sleeve!  I was game.  I
+trotted along--but bullieve me!  I was mad!  And the galoot was
+so slick about it!  Why, he walked up Broadway first--as if he
+had a business appointment in a desprit hurry.  Then, having
+reached Hunderd an' Twenty-fi'th Street, he pauses a minute--to
+be sure I'm trailin', the vilyun and then, he swings East, and
+across town, and turns South again--oh, well, Mr. Stone, he
+simpully makes me foller him till I'm that dog-tired, I near
+drops in my tracks.  And, to top the heap, he leads me straight
+to this hotel, where we're stayin'--yes, sir! right here--and
+makin' a sharp turn, he says, 'Good-night!' pleasant like, and
+scoots off.  Can you beat it?"
+
+"Poor old Fibs, that was an experience!  Looks like the Hanlon
+person is one to be reckoned with.  But it doesn't prove him
+mixed up in the murder mystery in any way."
+
+"No, sir, it don't.  It's only made me sore on him--and sore on
+my own account, too!"  Fibsy grinned ruefully.  "Me feet's that
+blistered--and I'm lame all over!"
+
+"Poor boy!  You see, he's a sprinter from 'way back.  His stunts
+on that newspaper work prove he can take long walks without
+turning a hair."
+
+"Yes, but its croolty to animiles to drag a young feller like me
+along, too.  I've got his number.  Just you wait, Cele!
+Remember, Mr. Stone, he played spook-catcher to Miss Ames.  That
+means something, sir."
+
+"It does, indeed.  This is a great old case, Fibsy.  Are you
+getting a line on it?"
+
+"I think so, sir," and the lad looked very earnest.  "Are you?"
+
+"A strange one.  But, yet, a line.  To-day, Fibs, I want you to
+interview that Mrs. Desternay.  You can do it better than I,
+jolly her along, and find out if she's fried or foe of Mrs.
+Embury."
+
+"Yessir.  An' kin I do a little sleuthin' on my own?"
+
+"What sort?"
+
+"Legitermit--I do assure you, sir."
+
+When Fibsy assumed this deeply earnest air, Stone knew some
+clever dodge was in his mind, and he found it usually turned out
+well, so he said, "Go ahead, my boy; I trust you."
+
+"Thank yer," and Fibsy devoted himself to the remainder of his
+breakfast, while Stone read the morning paper.
+
+
+An hour later Terence McGuire presented himself at the Embury
+home and asked for Miss Ames.
+
+"Good morning, ma'am," he said, as he smiled brightly at her.
+"Howlja like to join me in a bit of investergation that'll
+proberly end up in a s'lution of the mystery?"
+
+"I'd like it first rate," replied Miss Ames, with enthusiasm.
+"When do we begin?"
+
+"Immejitly.  Where's Mis' Embury?"
+
+"In her room."
+
+"No use a-disturbin' her, but I want'a see the jersey--the
+gymnasium jersey your ghost wore."
+
+Aunt Abby looked disappointed.  She had hoped for something more
+exciting.
+
+But she said, "I'll get it," and went at once to Sanford Embury's
+room.
+
+"Thank you," said Fibsy, as he took it.  But his eager scrutiny
+failed to disclose any trace of jam on its sleeves.
+
+"Which arm did you bite?" he asked, briefly.
+
+"I didn't really bite at all," Miss Ames returned.  "I sort of
+made a snap at him--it was more a nervous gesture than an
+intelligent action.  And I just caught a bit of the worsted
+sleeve between my lips for an instant--it was, let me see--it
+must have been the left arm--"
+
+"Well, we'll examine both sleeves--and I regret to state, ma'am,
+there's no sign of sticky stuff.  This is a fine specimen of a
+jersey--I never saw a handsomer one--but there's no stain on it,
+and never has been."
+
+"Nor has it ever been cleaned with gasoline," mused Miss Ames,
+"and yet, McGuire, nothing, to my dying day, can ever convince me
+that I am mistaken on those two subjects.  I'm just as sure as I
+can be."
+
+"I'm sure, too.  Listen here, Miss Ames.  There's a great little
+old revelation due in about a: day or so, and I wish you'd lay
+low.  Will you?"
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Why, don't do or say much about the affair.  Let it simmer.  I'm
+on the warpath, and so's Mr. Stone, and we're comin' out on top,
+if we don't have no drawbacks.  So, don't trot round to
+clarviants or harp on that there 'vision' of yours, will you?"
+
+"My boy, I'm only too glad to keep away from the subject.  I'm
+worried to death with it all.  And if I can't do any good by my
+efforts, I'll willingly 'lay low' as you ask."
+
+"All right, ma'am.  Now, I'm off, and I'll be back here when I
+come again.  So long."
+
+Fibsy went down in the service elevator and forthwith proceeded
+to interview the rubbish man of the house and some other
+functionaries.
+
+By dint of much prodding of memory, assisted by judicious silver
+offerings, he finally learned that there was an apartment
+occupied by a couple with four children, who, it appeared,
+consumed large quantities of jam of all flavors.  At least, their
+rubbish was bristling with empty jam pots, and the deduction was
+logical.
+
+Seemingly unimpressed, Fibsy declared it was pickle-fiends he was
+searching for, and departed, outwardly crestfallen, but inwardly
+elated.
+
+Going out of doors, he walked to the corner of Park Avenue, and
+turned into the side street.
+
+Crossing that street to get a better view, he looked up the side
+of the big apartment house, and his gaze paused at the window in
+the tenth story which was in Miss Ames' sleeping-room.  Two
+floors below this was the apartment of the family who were
+reputed jam eaters.
+
+Fibsy looked intently at all the windows.  The one next Miss
+Ames' was, he knew, in the Embury's pantry.  Hence, the one two
+stories below was in the Patterson's pantry the Patterson being
+the aforesaid family.
+
+And to the boy's astonished and delighted eyes, there on the
+pantry window-sill sat what was unmistakably a jam jar!
+
+So far, so good.  But what did it mean?  Fibsy had learned that
+Mr. Patterson was a member of the Metropolitan Athletic Club and
+was greatly interested in its presidential election--which
+election, owing to the death of one of the candidates had been
+indefinitely postponed.
+
+But further investigation of Mr. Patterson was too serious a
+matter for the boy to undertake.  It must be referred to Fleming
+Stone.
+
+So Fibsy glued his eyes once more to that fascinating jam jar up
+on the eighth-story window-sill, and slowly walked away.
+
+Under his breath he was singing, "Raz Berry Jam!  Raz Berry
+Jam!'--" to the tune of a certain march from Lohengrin, which
+somehow represented to his idea the high note of triumph.
+
+He proceeded along the cross street, and at Fifth Avenue he
+entered a bus.
+
+His next errand took him to the home of Fifi Desternay.
+
+By some ingenious method of wheedling, he persuaded the doorman
+to acquaint the lady with the fact of his presence, and when she
+came into the room where he awaited her he banked on his nerve to
+induce her to grant him an interview.
+
+"You know me," he said, with his most ingratiating smile, and he
+even went so far as to take her beringed little hand in his own
+boyish paw.
+
+"I do not!" she declared, staring at him, and then, his grin
+proving infectious, she added, not unkindly, "Who are you,
+child?"
+
+"I wish I was a society reporter or a photographer, or anybody
+who could do justice to your wonderful charms!"
+
+His gaze of admiration was so sincere that Fifi couldn't resent
+it.
+
+She often looked her best in the morning, and her dainty negligee
+and bewitching French cap made her a lovely picture.
+
+She tucked herself into a big, cushioned chair, and drawing a
+smoking-stand nearer, fussed with its silver appointments.
+
+"Lemme, ma'am," said Fibsy, eagerly, and, though it was his first
+attempt, he held a lighted match to her cigarette with real
+grace.
+
+Then, drawing a long breath of relief at his success, he took a
+cigarette himself, and sat near her.
+
+"Well," she began, "what's it all about?  And, do tell me how you
+got in!  I'm glad you did, though it was against orders.  I've
+not seen anything so amusing as you for a long time!"
+
+"This is my amusin' day," returned the boy, imperturbably.  "I
+came to talk over things in general--"
+
+"And what in particular?"
+
+Fifi was enjoying herself.  She felt almost sure the boy was a
+reporter of a new sort, but she was frankly curious.
+
+"Well, ma'am," and here Fibsy changed his demeanor to a stern,
+scowling fierceness, "I'm a special investigator."  He rose now,
+and strode about the room.  "I'm engaged on the Embury murder
+case, and I'm here to ask you a few pointed questions about it."
+
+"My heavens!" cried Fifi, "what are you talking about?"
+
+"Don't scoff at me, ma'am; I'm in authority."
+
+"Oh, well, go ahead.  Why are you questioning me?"
+
+"It's this way, ma'am." Fibsy sat down astride a chair, looking
+over the back of it at his hostess.  "You and Mrs. Embury are
+bosom friends, I understand."
+
+"From whom do you understand it?" was the tart response; "from
+Mrs. Embury?"
+
+"In a manner o' speakin', yes; and then again, no.  But aren't
+you?"
+
+"We were.  We were school friends, and have been intimates for
+years.  But since her--trouble, Mrs. Embury has thrown me over
+--has discarded me utterly--I'm so sorry!"
+
+Fifi daintily touched her eyes with a tiny square of monogrammed
+linen, and Fibsy said, gravely,
+
+"Careful, there; don't dab your eyelashes too hard!"
+
+"What!" Mrs. Desternay could scarcely believe her ears.
+
+"Honest, you'd better look out.  It's coming off now."
+
+"Nothing of the sort," and Fifi whipped out a vanity case, and
+readjusted her cosmetic adornment.
+
+"Then I take it you two are not friends?"
+
+"We most certainly are not.  I wouldn't do anything in the world
+to injure Eunice Embury--in fact, I'd help her, even now--though
+she scorned my assistance--but we're not friends--no!"
+
+"All right, I just wanted to know.  Ask right out--that's my
+motto."
+
+"It seems to be!  Anything else you are thirsting to learn?"
+
+"Yes'm.  You know that 'Hamlet' performance--you and Mis' Embury
+went to?"
+
+"Yes," said Fifi, cautiously.
+
+"You know you accused her of talkin' it over with you--"
+
+"She did!"
+
+"Yes'm--I know you say she did--I got that from Mr. Shane--but,
+lemme tell you, ma'am, friendly like, you want to be careful how
+you tell that yarn--'cause they's chance fer a perfectly good
+slander case against you!"
+
+"What nonsense!" but Fifi paled a little under her delicate
+rouge.
+
+"No nonsense whatsomever.  But here's the point.  Was there a
+witness to that conversation?"
+
+"Why, let me see.  We talked it over at the matinee--we were
+alone then--but, yes, of course--I recollect now--that same
+evening Eunice was here and Mr. Hendricks was, too, and Mr.
+Patterson--he lives in their apartment house--the Embury's,
+I mean-and we all talked about it!  There!  I guess that's
+witnesses enough!"
+
+"I guess it is.  But take it from me, lady, you're too pretty to
+get into a bothersome lawsuit--and I advise you to keep on the
+sunny side of the street, and let these shady matters alone."
+
+"I'll gladly do so--honest, I don't want to get Eunice in
+bad--"
+
+"Oh, no! we all know you don't want to get her in bad--unless it
+can be done with abserlute safety to your own precious self.
+Well--it can't, ma'am.  You keep on like you've begun--and your
+middle name'll soon be trouble!  Good morning, ma'am."
+
+Fibsy rose, bowed and left the room so suddenly that Fifi hadn't
+time to stop him if she had wanted to.  And he left behind him a
+decidedly scared little woman.
+
+Fibsy then went straight to the offices of Mason Elliott.
+
+He was admitted and given an audience at once.
+
+"What is it, McGuire?" asked the broker.
+
+"A lot of things, Mr. Elliott.  First of all--I suppose the
+police are quite satisfied with the alibis of you and Mr.
+Hendricks?"
+
+"Yes," and Elliott looked curiously into the grave, earnest
+little face.  He had resented, at first, the work of this boy,
+but after Fleming Stone had explained his worth, Elliott soon
+began to see it for himself.
+
+"They are unimpeachable," he went on; "I was at home, and Mr.
+Hendricks was in Boston.  This has been proved over and over by
+many witnesses, both authentic and credible."
+
+"Yes," Fibsy nodded.  "I'm sure of it, too.  And, of course, that
+lets you two out.  Now, Mr. Elliott, the butler didn't do it F.
+Stone says that's a self-evident fact.  Bringin' us back--as per
+usual to the two ladies.  But, Mr. Elliott, neither of those
+ladies did it."
+
+"Bless you, my boy, that's my own opinion, of course, but how can
+we prove it?"
+
+Fibsy deeply appreciated the "we" and gave the speaker a grateful
+smile.
+
+"There you are, Mr. Elliott, how can we?  Mr. Stone, as you know,
+is the cleverest detective in the world, but he's no magician.
+He can't find the truth, if the truth is hidden in a place he
+can't get at."
+
+"Have you any idea, McGuire, who the murderer was?"
+
+"No, sir, I haven't.  But I've an idea where to get an idea.  And
+I want you to help me."
+
+"Surely--that goes without saying."
+
+"You'd do anything for Mrs. Embury, wouldn't you?"
+
+"Anything."  The simple assertion told the whole story, and Fibsy
+nodded with satisfaction.
+
+"Then tell me truly, sir, please, wasn't Mr. Embury a--a--a--"
+
+"Careful there--he's dead, you know."
+
+"Yes, I know--but it's necessary, sir.  Wasn't he a--I don't know
+the right term, but wasn't he a money-grabber?"
+
+"In what way?" Elliott spoke very gravely.
+
+You know best, sir.  He was your partner--had been for some
+years.  But--on the side, now--didn't he do this?  Lend
+money-sorta personally, you know--on security."
+
+"And if he did?"
+
+"Didn't he demand big security--didn't he get men--his friends
+even--in his power--and then come down on 'em--oh, wasn't he a
+sort of a loan shark?"
+
+"Where did you get all this?"
+
+"I put together odds and ends of talk I've heard--and it must be
+so.  That Mr. Patterson, now--"
+
+"Patterson!  What do you know of him?"
+
+"Nothing, but that he owed Mr. Embury a lot, and his household
+stuff was the collateral--and--"
+
+"Were did you learn that?  I insist on knowing!"
+
+"Servants' gossip, sir.  I picked it up in the apartment house.
+He and the Emburys live in the same one, you know."
+
+"McGuire, you are on a wrong trail.  Mr. Embury may have lent
+money to his friends--may have had collateral security from them
+--probably did--but that's nothing to do with his being killed.
+And as it is a blot on his memory, I do not want the matter made
+public."
+
+"I understand that, Mr. Elliott--neither do I.  But sposin' the
+discovery of the murderer hinges on that very thing--that very
+branch of Mr. Embury's business--then mustn't it be looked into?"
+
+"Perhaps it--must--but not by you."
+
+"No, sir, By F. Stone."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+HANLON'S AMBITION
+
+
+An important feature of Fleming Stone's efficiency was his
+ability to make use of the services of others.  In the present
+case, he skilfully utilized both Shane and Driscoll's energies,
+and received their reports--diplomatically concealing the fact
+that he was making tools of them, and letting them infer that he
+was merely their co-worker.
+
+Also, he depended greatly on Fibsy's assistance.  The boy was
+indefatigable, and he did errands intelligently, and made
+investigations with a minute attention to details, that delighted
+the heart of his master.
+
+Young McGuire had all the natural attributes of a detective, and
+under the tuition of Fleming Stone was advancing rapidly.
+
+When assisting Stone on a case, the two usually lived together at
+some hotel, Stone going back and forth between there and his own
+home, which was now in a Westchester suburb.
+
+It was part of the routine that the two should breakfast together
+and plan the day's work.  These breakfasts were carefully
+arranged meals, with correct appointments, for Stone had the
+boy's good at heart, and was glad to train him in deportment for
+his own sake; but also, he desired that Fibsy should be
+presentable in any society, as the pursuit of the detective
+calling made it often necessary that the boy should visit in
+well-conducted homes.
+
+Fibsy was, therefore, eating his breakfast after the most
+approved formula, when Stone said, "Well, Fibs, how about Sykes
+and Barton?  Now for the tale of your call on Willy Hanlon
+yesterday."
+
+"I went down there, Mr. Stone, but I didn't see Hanlon.  He was
+out.  But I did a lot better.  I saw Mr. Barton, of Sykes and
+Barton, and I got an earful!  It seems friend Willy has
+ambitions."
+
+"In what line?"
+
+"Upward!  Like the gentleman in the poetry-book, he wants to go
+higher, higher, ever higher--"
+
+"Aeroplane?"
+
+"No, not that way--steeplejack."
+
+"Painting spires?"
+
+"Not only spires, but signs in high places--dangerous places-and,
+you know, Mr. Stone, he told us--that day at the Embury house
+--that he didn't climb--that he painted signs, and let other
+people put them up."
+
+"Yes; well?  What of it?"
+
+"Only this: why did he try to deceive us?  Why, Mr. Barton says
+he's a most daring climber--he's practicing to be a human fly."
+
+"A human fly?  Is that a new circus stunt?"
+
+"You know what I mean.  You've seen a human fly perform, haven't
+you?"
+
+"Oh, that chap who stood on his head on the coping of the
+Woolworth Building to get contributions for the Red Cross work?
+Yes, I remember.  He wasn't Hanlon, was he?"
+
+"No, sir; he was the original--or one of the first ones.  There
+are lots of human flies, now.  They cut up tricks all over the
+country.  And Willy Hanlon is practicing for that but he doesn't
+want it known."
+
+"All right, I won't tell.  His guilty secret is safe with me!"
+
+"Now, you're laughing at me, Mr. Stone!  All right just you wait
+--and Hanlon goes around on a motor-cycle, too!"
+
+"He does!  Then we are undone!  What a revelation!  And, now,
+Fibs, if you'll explain to me the significance of Hanlon's
+aspiring ambitions and his weird taste for motor-cycles, I'll be
+obliged."
+
+Fibsy was extremely, even absurdly, sensitive to irony.
+Sometimes it didn't affect him seriously, and then, again, he
+would be so hurt and embarrassed by it, that it fairly made him
+unable to talk.
+
+In this instance, it overcame him utterly, and his funny little
+freckled face turned red, and his eyes lost their eagerness and
+showed only chagrin.
+
+"Come, come," said Stone, regretting his teasing, but determined
+to help the boy overcome his sensitiveness to it, "brace up,
+Fibs; you know I meant no harm.  Forgive a chap, can't you--and
+begin all over again.  I know you have something in your noddle
+--and doubtless, something jolly well worth while."
+
+"Well--I--oh, wait a minute, Mr. Stone--I'm a fool, but I can't
+help it.  When you come at me like that, I lose all faith in my
+notions.  For it's only a notion--and a crazy one at that, and
+--well, sir, you wait till I've worked it up a little further
+--and if there's anything to it--I'll expound.  Now, what's my
+orders for to-day?"
+
+Fibsy had an obstinate streak in his make-up, and Fleming Stone
+was too wise to insist on the boy's "expounding" just then.
+
+Instead, he said, pleasantly: "To-day, Fibs, I want you to make a
+round of the drug stores.  It's not a hopeful job--indeed, I
+can't think it can amount to anything--but have a try at it.  You
+remember, Mr. Hendricks had the earache--"
+
+"I do, indeed!  He had it a month ago--and what's more, he denied
+it--at first."
+
+"Yes; well, use your discretion for all it's worth--but get a
+line on the doctor that prescribed for him--it was a bad case,
+you know--and find out what he got to relieve him and where he
+got it."
+
+"Yessir.  Say, Mr. Stone, is Mr. Hendricks implicated, do you
+think?"
+
+"In the murder?  Why, he was in Boston at the time--a man can't
+be in two places at once, can he?"
+
+"He cannot!  He has a perfect alibi--hasn't he, Mr. Stone?"
+
+"He sure has, Fibsy.  And yet--he was in the party that discussed
+the possibilities of killing people by the henbane route."
+
+"Yessir--but so was Mr. Patterson--Mis' Desternay said so."
+
+"The Patterson business must be looked into.  I'll attend to that
+to-day--I'll also see Mr. Elliott about that matter of personal
+loans that Mr. Embury seemed to be conducting as a side
+business."
+
+"Yes, do, please.  Mr. Stone, it would be a first-class motive,
+if Mr. Embury had a strangle-hold on somebody who owed him a
+whole lot and couldn't pay, and--"
+
+"Fine motive, my boy--but how about opportunity?  You forget
+those bolted doors."
+
+"And Mr. Patterson had borrowed money of Mr. Embury--"
+
+"How do you know that?"
+
+"I heard it--oh, well, I got it from one of the footmen of the
+apartment house--"
+
+"Footmen!  What do you mean?"
+
+"You know there's a lot of employees--porters, rubbish men,
+doormen, hallmen, pages and Lord knows what!  I lump 'em all
+under the title of footmen.  Anyway, one of those persons told
+me--for a consideration--a lot about the private affairs of the
+tenants.  You know, Mr. Stone, those footmen pick up a lot of
+information--overhearing here and there--and from the private
+servants kept by the tenants."
+
+"That's true, Fibs; there must be a mine of information available
+in that way."
+
+"There is, sir.  And I caught onto a good deal--and specially, I
+learned that Mr. Patterson is in the faction--or whatever you
+call it--that didn't want Mr. Embury to be president of that
+club."
+
+"And so you think Mr. Patterson had a hand in the murder?"
+
+Stone's face was grave, and there was no hint of banter in his
+tone, so Fibsy replied, earnestly, "Well, he is the man who has
+lots of empty jam jars go down in the garbage pails."
+
+"But he has lots of children."
+
+"Yes, sir--four.  Oh, well, I suppose a good many people like
+raspberry jam."
+
+"Go on, Fibsy; don't be discouraged.  As I've often told you, one
+scrap of evidence is worth considering.  A second, against the
+same man--is important--and a third, is decidedly valuable."
+
+"Yessir, that's what I'm bankin' on.  You see, Mr. Patterson,
+now--he's over head and ears in debt to Embury.  He was against
+Embury for club president.  He was present at the henbane
+discussion.  And--he's an habitual buyer of raspberry jam."
+
+"Some counts," and Fleming Stone looked thoughtful.  "But not
+entirely convincing.  How'd he get in?"
+
+"You know his apartment is directly beneath the Embury apartment
+--but two floors below."
+
+"Might as well be ten floors below.  How could he get in?"
+
+"Somebody got in, Mr. Stone.  You know as well as I do, that
+neither Mrs. Embury nor Miss Ames committed that murder.  We must
+face that."
+
+"Nor did Ferdinand do it.  I'll go you all those assumptions."
+
+"All right, sir; then somebody got in from the outside."
+
+"How?"
+
+"Mr. Stone, haven't you ever read detective stories where a
+murder was committed in a room that was locked and double-locked
+and yet somebody did get in--and the fun of the story is guessing
+how he got in."
+
+"Fiction, my boy, is one thing--fact is another."
+
+"No, sir; they're one and the same thing!"
+
+"All right, son; have it your own way.  Now, if you're ready to
+get ready, skittle off to your chain of drug stores, and run down
+a henbane purchase by any citizen of this little old town, or
+adjacent boroughs."
+
+Fibsy went off.  He had recovered from the sense of annoyance at
+being chaffed by Stone, but it made him more resolved than ever
+to prove the strange theory he had formed.  He didn't dignify his
+idea by the name of theory, but he was doggedly sticking to a
+notion which, he hoped, would bring forth some strange
+developments and speedily.
+
+Laying aside his own plans for the moment, he went about Stone's
+business, and had little difficulty in finding the nearby
+druggist whom Hendricks frequently patronized.
+
+"Alvord Hendricks?  Sure he trades here," said the dapper young
+clerk.  "He buys mostly shaving-cream and tooth-paste, but here's
+where he buys it."
+
+"Righto!  And, say, a month or so ago, he bought some hyoscine--"
+
+"Oh, no, excuse me, he did not!  That's not sold hit or miss.
+But maybe you mean hyoscyamine.  That's another thing."
+
+"Why, maybe I do.  Look up the sale, can't you, and make sure."
+
+"Why should I?"
+
+Fibsy explained that in the interests of a police investigation
+it might be better to acquiesce than to question why, and the
+young man proved obliging.
+
+So Terence McGuire learned that Alvord Hendricks bought some
+hyoscyamine, on a doctor's prescription, about a month ago--the
+same to be used to relieve a serious case of earache.
+
+But there was no record of his having bought hyoscyarnus, which
+was the deadly henbane used in the medicine dropper-nor was there
+any other record of hyoscyamine against him.
+
+Satisfied that he had learned all he could, Fibsy continued his
+round of drug-store visits, in an ever-widening circle, but got
+no information on any henbane sales whatever.
+
+"Nothin' doin'," he told himself.  "Whoever squirted that henbane
+from that squirter into that ear--brought said henbane from a
+distance, which, to my mind, indicates a far-seeing and
+intelligent reasoning power."
+
+His present duty done, he started forth on his own tour of
+investigation.  He went to a small boarding house, in an
+inconspicuous street, the address of which had been given him by
+Mr. Barton, and asked for Mr. Hanlon.
+
+"He ain't home," declared the frowning landlady who opened the
+door.
+
+"I know it," returned Fibsy, nonchalantly, "but I gotta go up to
+his room a minute.  He sent me."
+
+"How do I know that?"
+
+"That's so, how do you?" Fibsy's grin was sociable.  "Well, look
+here, I guess this'll fix it.  I'm errand boy to--you know who--"
+he winked mysteriously, "to the man he takes his acrobat lessons
+off of."
+
+"Oh," the woman looked frightened.  "Hush up--it's all right.
+Only don't mention no names.  Go on upstairs--third floor front."
+
+"Yep," and Fibsy went quietly up the stairs.
+
+Hanlon's room was not locked, but a big wardrobe inside was--and
+nothing else was of interest to the visitor.  He picked at the
+lock with his knife, but to no avail.
+
+As he stood looking wistfully at the wardrobe door, a cheerful
+voice sounded behind him:
+
+"I'll open it for you--what do you want out of it?"
+
+Fibsy looked up quickly, to see Hanlon himself, smiling at him.
+Quick to take a cue, the boy didn't show any embarrassment, but
+putting out his hand said, "How do you do, Mr. Hanlon?"
+
+"Fine.  How's yourself?  And why the sneak visit, my boy?"
+
+Fibsy looked his questioner square in the eye, and then said,
+"Oh, well, I s'pose I may as well speak right out."
+
+"You sure may.  Either tell the truth, or put up such a
+convincing lie that I'll think it's the truth.  Go ahead."
+
+"Here goes, then," Fibsy made a quick decision, that Hanlon was
+too keen to stand for any lie.  "I'm engaged on the Embury murder
+case."
+
+"I know that's true--though it's hard to believe."
+
+Fibsy chose to ignore this dig, and went on.  "I'm here because I
+want to see how you're mixed up in it."
+
+"Oh, you do!  Why not ask me?"
+
+"All right, I ask you.  How are you connected with the murder of
+Sanford Embury?"
+
+"Will anything I say be used against me?"  Hanlon's tone was
+jocular, but he was staring hard at Fibsy's face.
+
+"If it's usable," was the nonchalant reply.
+
+"Well, use it if you can.  I'm mixed up in the matter, as you
+put it, because I'm trying to find the murderer on my own
+account."
+
+"Why do you want the murderer on your own account?"
+
+"I didn't agree to answer more than one question.  But I will.  I
+don't want the murderer particularly--but I'm interested in the
+case.  I've the detective instinct myself--and I thought if I
+could track down the villain--I might get a reward--"
+
+"Is there one offered?"
+
+"Not that I know of--but I daresay either Mr. Elliott or Mr.
+Hendricks would willingly pay to have the murderer found."
+
+"Why those two?  Why not Mrs. Embury?"
+
+"Innocent child!  Those two are deeply, desperately, darkly in
+love with the--the widow."
+
+"Let's leave her out of this!"
+
+"Ha, ha!  a squire of dames, eh?  and at your age!  All right
+--leave the lady's name out.  But I've confessed my hidden
+purpose.  Now tell me what brings you to my domicile, on false
+pretenses, and why do I find you on the point of breaking into my
+wardrobe?"
+
+"Truth does it!  I wanted to see if I could find a false beard
+and a white turban."
+
+"Oh, you did!  And what good would that do you?  You have
+cleverly discerned that I assumed an innocent disguise, in order
+to give aid and comfort to a most worthy dame of advanced years."
+
+"You did but why?"
+
+"Are you Paul Pry?  You'll drive me crazy with your eternal
+'why?'"
+
+"All right, go crazy, then--but, why?"
+
+"The same old reason," and Hanlon spoke seriously.  "I'm trying,
+as I said, to find the Embury murderer, and I contrived that
+session with the old lady in hopes of learning something to help
+me in finding him."
+
+"And did you?"
+
+"I learned that she is a harmless, but none the less, positively
+demented woman.  I learned that she deceives herself--in a way,
+hypnotizes herself, and she believes she sees and hears things
+that she does not see and hear."
+
+"And tastes them?  and smells them?"
+
+"There, too, she deceives herself.  Surely, you don't take in
+that story of her 'vision'?"
+
+"I believe she believes it."
+
+"Yes, so do I.  Now, look here, McGuire; I'm a good-natured sort,
+and I'm willing to overlook this raid of yours, if you'll join
+forces.  I can help you, but only if you're frank and honest in
+whacking up with whatever info you have.  I know something--you
+know something--will you go in cahoots?"
+
+"I would, Mr. Hanlon," and Fibsy looked regretful, "if I was my
+own boss.  But, you see, I'm under orders.  I'm F. Stone's
+helper--and I'll tell you what he says I may--and that's all."
+
+"That goes.  I don't want any more than your boss lets you spill.
+And now, honest, what did you come here for?"
+
+"To look in that wardrobe, as I said."
+
+"Why, bless your heart, child, you're welcome to do that."
+
+Hanlon drew a key from his pocket, and flung the wardrobe door
+wide.
+
+"There you are--go to it!"
+
+Swiftly, but methodically, Fibsy took down every article of
+wearing apparel the wardrobe contained, glanced at it and
+returned it, Hanlon looking on with an amused expression on his
+face.
+
+"Any incriminating evidence?" he said at last, as Fibsy hung up
+the final piece of clothing.
+
+"Not a scrap," was the hearty reply.  "If I don't get more
+evidence offen somebody else than I do from you, I'll go home
+empty-handed!"
+
+"Let me help you," and Hanlon spoke kindly; "I'll hunt evidence
+with you."
+
+"Some day, maybe.  I've got to-day all dated up.  And, say, why
+did you tell me you wasn't a steeplejack painter, when you are?"
+
+"You're right, I am.  But I don't want it known, because I'm
+going to branch out in a new field soon, and I don't want that
+advertised at present."
+
+"I know, Mr. Barton told me.  You're going to be a human fly, and
+cut up pranks on the edges of roofs of skyscrapers--"
+
+"Hush, not so loud.  Yes, I am, but the goal is far distant.  But
+I'm going to have a whack at it--and I know I can succeed, in
+time."
+
+Hanlon's eyes had a faraway, hopeful look, as if gazing into a
+future of marvelous achievement in his chosen field.  "Oh, I say,
+boy, it's glorious, this becoming expert in something difficult.
+It pays for all the work and training and practice!"
+
+The true artist ambition rang in his voice, and Fibsy gazed at
+him fascinated, for the boy was a hero-worshipper, and adored
+proficiency in any art.
+
+"When you going to exhibit?" he asked eagerly.
+
+"A little try at it next week.  Want'a come?"
+
+"Don't I.  Where?"
+
+"Hush!  I'll whisper.  Philadelphia."
+
+"I'll be there!  Lemme 'no the date and all."
+
+"Yes, I will.  Must you go?  Here's your hat."
+
+Fibsy laughed, took the hint and departed.
+
+"What a feller!" he marveled to himself, as he went on his way.
+"Oh, gee!  what a feller!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE GUILTY ONE
+
+
+"Alvord, you shock me--you amaze me!  How dare you talk to me of
+love, when my husband hasn't been dead a fortnight?"
+
+"What matter, Eunice?  You never really loved Sanford--"
+
+"I did--I did!"
+
+"Not lately, anyhow.  Perhaps just at first--and then, not
+deeply.  He carried you originally by storm--it was an even
+toss-up whether he or Elliott or I won out.  He was the most
+forceful of the three, and he made you marry him--didn't he now?"
+
+"Don't talk nonsense.  I married Sanford of my own free will--"
+
+"Yes, and in haste, and repented at leisure.  Now, don't be
+hypocritical, and pretend to grieve for him.  His death was
+shocking--fearful--but you're really relieved that he is gone.
+Why not admit it?"
+
+"Alvord, stop such talk!  I command you!  I won't listen!"
+
+"Very well, dearest, I'll stop it.  I beg your pardon--I forgot
+myself, I confess.  Now, let me atone.  I love you, Eunice, and
+I'll promise not to tell you so, or to talk about it now, if
+you'll just give me a ray of hope--a glimmer of anticipation.
+Will you--sometime--darling, let me tell you of my love?  After
+such an interval as you judge proper?  Will you, Eunice?"
+
+"No, I will not!  I don't love you--I never did and never can
+love you!  How did you ever get such an idea into your head?"
+
+The beautiful face expressed surprise and incredulity, rather
+than anger, and Eunice's voice was gentle.  In such a mood, she
+was even more attractive than in her more vivacious moments.
+
+Unable to control himself, Hendricks took a step toward her, and
+folded her in his arms.
+
+She made no effort to disengage herself, but said, in a tone of
+utter disdain, "Let me go, Alvord; you bore me."
+
+As she had well known, this angered him far more than angry words
+would have done.
+
+He released her instantly, but his face was blazing with
+indignation.
+
+"Oh, I do--do I?  And who can make love to you, and not bore you?
+Elliott?"
+
+"You are still forgetting yourself."
+
+"I am not!  I am thinking of myself only.  Oh, Eunice--dear
+Eunice, I have loved you so long and I have been good.  All the
+time you were Sanford's wife, I never so much as called you
+'dear'--never gave you even a look that wasn't one of respect
+for my friend's wife.  But now--now, that you are free--I have a
+right to woo you.  It is too soon--yes, I know that--but I will
+wait--wait as long as you command, if you'll only promise me that
+I may--sometime--"
+
+"Never!  I told you that before--I do not want to be obliged to
+repeat it!  Please understand, once for all, I have no love to
+give you--"
+
+"Because it is another's!  Eunice--tell me you do not care for
+Elliott--and I won't say another word--now.  I'll wait patiently
+--for a year--two years--as long as you wish--only give me the
+assurance that you will not marry Mason Elliott."
+
+"You are impossible!  How dare you speak to me of my marriage
+with anybody, when my husband is only just dead?  One word more,
+Alvord, on the subject, and I shall forbid you my house!"
+
+"All right, my lady!  Put on your high and mighty air, if you
+choose--but before you marry that man--make sure that he did not
+himself prepare the way for the wedding!"
+
+"What do you mean?  Are you accusing Mason of--"
+
+"I make no accusations.  But--who did kill Sanford?  I know you
+didn't do it--and Elliott has engaged Stone to prove that you
+didn't.  It is absurd, we all know, to suspect Aunt Abby--I was
+out of town--who is left but Mason?"
+
+"Hush!  I won't listen to, such a suggestion!  Mason was at his
+home that night."
+
+"Are you sure?"
+
+"Of course, I'm sure!  And I don't have to have it proved by a
+detective either!  And now, Alvord Hendricks, you may go!  I
+don't care to talk to anyone who can make such a contemptible
+accusation against a lifelong friend!"
+
+But before Hendricks left, Elliott himself came in.
+
+He was grave and preoccupied.  He bowed a little curtly to
+Hendricks, and, as he took Eunice's hand, he said, "May I see you
+alone?  I want to talk over some business matters--and I'm
+pressed for time."
+
+"Oh, all right," Hendricks said, "I can take a hint.  I'm going.
+How's your sleuth progressing, Elliott?  Has Mr. Stone unearthed
+the murderer yet?"
+
+"Not yet--but soon," and Elliott essayed to pass the subject off
+lightly.
+
+"Very soon?"  Hendricks looked at him in a curious manner.
+
+"Very soon, I think."
+
+"That's interesting.  Would it be indiscreet to ask in what
+direction one must look for the criminal?"
+
+"It would very." Elliott smiled a little.  "Now run along,
+Hendricks, that's a good chap.  I've important business matters
+to talk over with Eunice."
+
+Hendricks went, and Elliott turned to Eunice, with a grave face,
+
+"I've been going over Sanford's private papers," he said, "and,
+Eunice, there's a lot that we want to keep quiet."
+
+"Was Sanford a bad man?" she asked, her quiet, white face
+imploring a negative answer.
+
+"Not so very, but, as you know, he had a love of money--a sort of
+acquisitiveness, that led him into questionable dealings.  He
+loaned money to any one who would give him security--"
+
+"That isn't wrong!"
+
+"Not in itself--but, oh, Eunice, I can't explain it to you--or,
+at least, I don't want to--but Sanford lent money to men--to his
+friends--who were in great exigency--who gave their choicest
+belongings, their treasures as security--and then--he had no
+leniency--no compassion for them--"
+
+"Why should he have?"
+
+"Because--well, there is a justice, that is almost criminal.
+Sanford was a--a Shylock!  There, can you understand now?"
+
+"Who were his debtors?  Alvord?"
+
+"Yes; Hendricks was one who owed him enormous sums--and he was
+going to make lots of trouble--I mean Sanford was--why, Eunice,
+in Sanford's private safe are practically all of Hendricks'
+stocks and bonds, put up as collateral.  Sanford holds mortgages
+on all Hendricks' belongings--real estate, furniture--everything.
+Now, just at the time Sanford died these notes were due--this
+indebtedness of Hendricks to Sanford had to be paid, and merely
+the fact of San's death occurring just when it did saved Alvord
+from financial ruin."
+
+"Do you mean Sanford would have insisted on the payment?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then--oh, Mason I can't say it--I wouldn't breathe it to any one
+but you but could Alvord have killed Sanford?"
+
+"Of course not, Eunice.  He was in Boston, you know."
+
+"Yes, I know.  But--Mason, he hinted to me just now, that that
+maybe you killed San."
+
+"Did he, dear?  Then he was angry or--or crazy!  He doesn't think
+so.  Perhaps he was--very jealous."
+
+"Yes, he was!  How did you know?"
+
+"I have eyes.  You don't care for him--particularly--do you
+--Eunice?"
+
+Their eyes met and in one long look, the truth was told.  A great
+love existed between these two, and both had been honest and
+honorable so long as Eunice was Sanford's wife.  And even now,
+though Embury was gone, Elliott made no protestation of love to
+his widow--said no word that might not have been heard by the
+whole world, but they both knew--no word was necessary.
+
+A beautiful expression came over Eunice's face--she smiled a
+little and the love-light in her eyes was unmistakable.
+
+"I shall never lose my temper again," she said, softly, and Mason
+Elliott believed her.
+
+"Another big debtor to Sanford is Mr. Patterson," he went on,
+forcing himself to calm his riotous pulses, and continue his
+business talk.
+
+"How is that man mixed into our affars?"
+
+"He's very much mixed up in San's affairs.  But, Eunice, I don't
+want to burden you with all these details.  Only, you see, Alvord
+is your lawyer, and--it's confoundedly awkward--"
+
+"Look here, Mason, do this--can't you?  Forgive Alvord all
+Sanford's claims on him.  I mean, wipe the slate clean, as far as
+he is concerned.  I don't want his money--I mean I don't want to
+keep his stocks and things.  Give them all back to him, and hush
+the matter up.  You know, we four, Sanford and Alvord and you and
+I, are the old quartet--the 'three boys and a girl' who used to
+play together.  Now one of us is gone--don't let's make any
+trouble for another of the group.  I've enough money without
+realizing on Alvord's securities.  Give them all back to him--and
+forget it.  Can't we?"
+
+"Why, yes, I suppose so--if you so decree.  What about
+Patterson?"
+
+"Oh, those things you and Alvord must look after.  I've no head
+for business.  And anyway--must it be attended to at once?"
+
+"Not immediately.  Sanford's estate is so large, and his debtors
+so numerous, it will take months to get it adjusted."
+
+"Very well, let anything unpleasant wait for a while, then."
+
+
+Now, on this very day, and at this very hour, Fibsy was in
+Philadelphia, watching the initial performance of a new "human
+fly."
+
+A crowd was gathered about the tall skyscraper, where the event
+was to take place, and when Hanlon appeared he was greeted by a
+roar, of cheering that warmed his applause-loving heart.
+
+Bowing and smiling at his audience, he started on his perilous
+climb up the side of the building.
+
+The sight was thrilling--nerve-racking.  Breathlessly the people
+watched as he climbed up the straight, sheer facade, catching now
+at a window ledge--now at a bit of stone ornamentation--and
+again, seeming to hold on by nothing at all--almost as a real fly
+does.
+
+When he negotiated a particularly difficult place, the crowd
+forebore to cheer, instinctively feeling it might disturb him.
+
+He went on--higher and higher--now pausing to look down and smile
+at the sea of upturned faces below--and, in a moment of bravado,
+even daring to pause, and hanging on by one hand and one foot,
+"scissor out" his other limbs and wave a tiny flag which he
+carried.
+
+On he went, and on, at last reaching the very top.  Over the
+coping he climbed, and gaily waved his flag as he bowed to the
+applauding crowds below.
+
+Then, for Hanlon was a daring soul, the return journey was begun.
+
+Even more fascinating than the ascent was this hazardous task.
+
+Fibsy watched him, noted every step, every motion, and was fairly
+beside himself with the excitement of the moment.
+
+And, then, when half a dozen stories from the ground--when
+success was almost within his grasp--something happened.  Nobody
+knew what--a misstep--a miscalculation of distance--a slipping
+stone--whatever the cause, Hanlon fell.  Fell from the sixth
+story to the ground.
+
+Those nearest the catastrophe stepped back--others pushed
+forward--and an ambulance, ready for such a possible occasion,
+hurried the wounded man to the hospital.
+
+For Hanlon was not killed, but so crushed and broken that his
+life was but a matter of hours--perhaps moments.
+
+
+"Let me in--I must see him!" Fibsy fought the doormen, the
+attendants, the nurses.
+
+"I tell you I must!  In the name of the law, let me in!"
+
+And then a more coherent insistence brought him permission, and
+he was immediately admitted to Hanlon's presence.
+
+A priest was there, administering extreme unction, and saying
+such words of comfort as he could command, but at sight of Fibsy,
+Hanlon's dull eyes brightened and he partially revived.
+
+"Yes--him!" he cried out, with a sudden flicker of energy, "I
+must talk to him!"
+
+The doctor fell back, and made way for the boy.  "Let him talk,
+if he likes," he said; "nothing matters now.  Poor chap, he can't
+live ten minutes."
+
+Awed, but very determined, Fibsy approached the bedside.
+
+He looked at Hanlon--strangely still and white, yet his eyes
+burning with a desperate desire to communicate something.
+
+"Come here," he whispered, and Fibsy drew nearer to him.
+
+"You know?" he said.
+
+"Yes," and Fibsy glanced around as if f to be sure of his
+witnesses to this strange confession, "you killed Sanford
+Embury."
+
+"I did.  I--I--oh, I can't--talk.  You talk--"
+
+"This is his confession," Fibsy turned to the priest and the
+doctor; "listen to it."  Then addressing himself again to Hanlon,
+he resumed: "You climbed up the side of the apartment house--on
+the cross street--not on Park Avenue--and you got in at Miss
+Ames' window."
+
+"Yes," said Hanlon, his white lips barely moving, but his eyes
+showing acquiescence.
+
+"You went straight through those two rooms--softly, not awakening
+either of the ladies--and you killed Mr. Embury, and then--you
+returned through the bedrooms--"
+"
+Again the eyes said yes.
+
+"And, passing through Miss Ames' room, she stirred, and thinking
+she might be awake, you stopped and leaned over her to see.
+There you accidentally let fall--perhaps from your breast pocket-
+-the little glass dropper you had used--and as you bent over the
+old lady, she grabbed at you, and felt your jersey sleeve--even
+bit at it--and tasted raspberry jam.  That jam got on that sleeve
+as you climbed up past the Patterson's window, where a jar of it
+was on the window-sill--"
+
+"Yes--that's right," Hanlon breathed, and on his face was a
+distinct look of admiration for the boy's perception.
+
+"You wore a faintly-ticking wrist-watch--the same one you're
+wearing now--and the odor of gasoline about you was from your
+motor-cycle.  You, then, were the 'vision' Miss Ames has so often
+described, and you glided silently away from her bedside, and out
+at the window by which you entered.  Gee! it was some stunt!"
+
+This tribute of praise was wrung from Fibsy by the sudden
+realization that what he had for some time surmised was really
+true!
+
+"I guess it was that jam that did for you," he went on, "but,
+say, we ain't got no time for talkin'."
+
+Hanlon's eyes were already glazing, his breath; came shorter and
+it was plain to be seen the end was very near.
+
+"Who hired you?"  Fibsy flung the question at him with such force
+that it seemed to rouse a last effort of the ebbing life in the
+dying man and he answered, faintly but clearly:
+
+"Alvord Hendricks--ten thousand dollars--" and then Hanlon was
+gone.
+
+Reminding the priest and the doctor that they were witnesses to
+this dying confession, Fibsy rushed from the room and back to New
+York as fast as he could get there.
+
+He learned by telephone that Fleming Stone was at Mrs. Embury's,
+and, pausing only to telephone for Shane to go at once to the
+same house, Fibsy jumped into a taxicab and hurried up there
+himself.
+
+"It's all over," he burst forth, as he dashed into the room
+where Stone sat, talking to Eunice.  Mason Elliott was there,
+too--indeed, he was a frequent visitor--and Aunt Abby sat by with
+her knitting.
+
+"What is?" asked Stone, looking at the boy in concern.  For Fibsy
+was greatly excited, his fingers worked nervously and his voice
+shook.
+
+"The whole thing, Mr. Stone!  Hanlon's dead--and he killed Mr.
+Embury."
+
+"Yes--I know--"  Fleming Stone showed no surprise.  "Did he
+fall?"
+
+"Yessir.  Got up the climb all right, and 'most down again, and
+fell from the sixth floor.  Killed him--but not instantly.  I
+went to the hospital, and he confessed."
+
+"Who did?" said Shane, coming in at the door as the last words
+were spoken.
+
+"Willy Hanlon--a human fly."
+
+And then Fleming Stone told the whole story--Fibsy adding here
+and there his bits of information.
+
+"But I don't understand," said Shane, at last, "why would that
+chap kill Mr. Embury?"
+
+"Hired," said Fibsy, as Stone hesitated to speak; "hired by a man
+who paid him ten thousand dollars."
+
+"Hanlon a gunman!" said Shane, amazed.
+
+"Not a professional one," Fibsy said, "but he acted as one in
+this case.  The man who hired him knew he was privately learning
+to be a 'human fly,' and he had the diabolical thought of hiring
+him to climb up this house, and get in at the only available
+window, and kill Mr. Embury with that henbane stuff."
+
+"And the man's name?" shouted Shane, "the name of the real
+criminal?"
+
+Fibsy sat silent, looking at Stone.
+
+"His name is Alvord E. Hendricks," was Stone's quiet reply.
+
+An instant commotion arose.  Eunice, her great eyes full of
+horror, ran to Aunt Abby, who seemed about to collapse from sheer
+dismay.
+
+Mason Elliott started up with a sudden "Where is he?" and Shane
+echoed, with a roar: "Yes, where is he?  Can he get away?"
+
+"No," said Stone; "he can't.  I have him covered day and night by
+my men.  At present, Mr. Shane, he is--I am quite sure--in his
+office--if you want to go there--"
+
+"If I want to go there!  I should say I do!  He'll get his!"
+
+And in less than half an hour, Shane had taken Alvord Hendricks
+into custody, and in due time that arch criminal received the
+retribution of justice.
+
+Shane gone, Fibsy went over the whole story once again.
+
+"You see, it was Mr. Stone's keeping at it what did it.  He
+connected up Hanlon and the jam--he connected up Mr. Hendricks
+and the Hamlet business--we connected up Hanlon and the gasoline-
+-and Hanlon and the jersey and the motor-cycle and all!" Fibsy
+grew excited; "then we connected up Hendricks and his 'perfect
+alibi.'  Always distrust the perfect alibi--that's one of Mr.
+Stone's first maxims.  Well, this Hendricks--he had a pluperfect
+alibi--couldn't be shaken--so Mr. Stone, he says, the more
+perfect the alibi, the more we must distrust it.  So he went for
+that alibi--and he found that Mr. Hendricks was sure in Boston
+that night, but he didn't have any real reason, not any
+imperative reason for going--it was a sorta trumped up trip.
+Well--that's the way it was.  He had to get Mr. Embury out of the
+way just then, or be shown up--a ruined man--and, too, he was
+afraid Mr. Embury'd be president of the club--and, too--he wanted
+to--"
+
+Fibsy gave one eloquent glance at Eunice, and paused abruptly in
+his speech.  Every one knew--every one realized that love of
+Sanford Embury's wife was one reason, at least, for the fatal
+deed.  Everybody realized that Alvord Hendricks was a villain
+through and through--that he had killed his friend--though not by
+his own hand.
+
+
+Eunice never saw Hendricks again.  She and Aunt Abby went away
+for a year's stay.  They traveled in lovely lands, where the
+scenery and climate brought rest and peace to Eunice's troubled
+heart, and where she learned, by honest effort, to control her
+quick temper.
+
+And then, after two of the one-time friendly quartet had become
+only a past memory, the remaining two, Eunice and Mason Elliott,
+found happiness and joy.
+
+"One of our biggest cases, F. Stone," said Fibsy, one day,
+reminiscently.
+
+"It was, indeed, Fibs; and you did yourself proud."
+
+"Great old scheme!  Perfect alibi--unknown human fly--bolted
+doors--all the elements of a successful crime--if he hadn't
+slipped up on that Raspberry jam!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Raspberry Jam, by Carolyn Wells
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RASPBERRY JAM ***
+
+This file should be named rspbj10.txt or rspbj10.zip
+Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, rspbj11.txt
+VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, rspbj10a.txt
+
+
+
+Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we usually do not
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance
+of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing.
+Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections,
+even years after the official publication date.
+
+Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til
+midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement.
+The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at
+Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month.  A
+preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment
+and editing by those who wish to do so.
+
+Most people start at our Web sites at:
+http://gutenberg.net or
+http://promo.net/pg
+
+These Web sites include award-winning information about Project
+Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new
+eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!).
+
+
+Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement
+can get to them as follows, and just download by date.  This is
+also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the
+indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an
+announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter.
+
+http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03 or
+ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03
+
+Or /etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90
+
+Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want,
+as it appears in our Newsletters.
+
+
+Information about Project Gutenberg (one page)
+
+We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work.  The
+time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours
+to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright
+searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc.   Our
+projected audience is one hundred million readers.  If the value
+per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2
+million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text
+files per month:  1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+
+We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002
+If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total
+will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end.
+
+The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks!
+This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers,
+which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users.
+
+Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated):
+
+eBooks Year Month
+
+    1  1971 July
+   10  1991 January
+  100  1994 January
+ 1000  1997 August
+ 1500  1998 October
+ 2000  1999 December
+ 2500  2000 December
+ 3000  2001 November
+ 4000  2001 October/November
+ 6000  2002 December*
+ 9000  2003 November*
+10000  2004 January*
+
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created
+to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people
+and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut,
+Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois,
+Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts,
+Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New
+Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio,
+Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South
+Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West
+Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming.
+
+We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones
+that have responded.
+
+As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list
+will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states.
+Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state.
+
+In answer to various questions we have received on this:
+
+We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally
+request donations in all 50 states.  If your state is not listed and
+you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have,
+just ask.
+
+While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are
+not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting
+donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to
+donate.
+
+International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about
+how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made
+deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are
+ways.
+
+Donations by check or money order may be sent to:
+
+Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+PMB 113
+1739 University Ave.
+Oxford, MS 38655-4109
+
+Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment
+method other than by check or money order.
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by
+the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN
+[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154.  Donations are
+tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law.  As fund-raising
+requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be
+made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states.
+
+We need your donations more than ever!
+
+You can get up to date donation information online at:
+
+http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html
+
+
+***
+
+If you can't reach Project Gutenberg,
+you can always email directly to:
+
+Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com>
+
+Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message.
+
+We would prefer to send you information by email.
+
+
+**The Legal Small Print**
+
+
+(Three Pages)
+
+***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START***
+Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers.
+They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with
+your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from
+someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our
+fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement
+disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how
+you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to.
+
+*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK
+By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
+eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept
+this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive
+a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by
+sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person
+you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical
+medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request.
+
+ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS
+This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks,
+is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart
+through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project").
+Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright
+on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and
+distribute it in the United States without permission and
+without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth
+below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook
+under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark.
+
+Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market
+any commercial products without permission.
+
+To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable
+efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain
+works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any
+medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other
+things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged
+disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer
+codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.
+
+LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES
+But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below,
+[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may
+receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims
+all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including
+legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR
+UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT,
+INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE
+OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE
+POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES.
+
+If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of
+receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any)
+you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that
+time to the person you received it from. If you received it
+on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and
+such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement
+copy. If you received it electronically, such person may
+choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to
+receive it electronically.
+
+THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS
+TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A
+PARTICULAR PURPOSE.
+
+Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or
+the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the
+above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you
+may have other legal rights.
+
+INDEMNITY
+You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation,
+and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated
+with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
+texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including
+legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the
+following that you do or cause:  [1] distribution of this eBook,
+[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook,
+or [3] any Defect.
+
+DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm"
+You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by
+disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this
+"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg,
+or:
+
+[1]  Only give exact copies of it.  Among other things, this
+     requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the
+     eBook or this "small print!" statement.  You may however,
+     if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable
+     binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form,
+     including any form resulting from conversion by word
+     processing or hypertext software, but only so long as
+     *EITHER*:
+
+     [*]  The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and
+          does *not* contain characters other than those
+          intended by the author of the work, although tilde
+          (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may
+          be used to convey punctuation intended by the
+          author, and additional characters may be used to
+          indicate hypertext links; OR
+
+     [*]  The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at
+          no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent
+          form by the program that displays the eBook (as is
+          the case, for instance, with most word processors);
+          OR
+
+     [*]  You provide, or agree to also provide on request at
+          no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the
+          eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC
+          or other equivalent proprietary form).
+
+[2]  Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this
+     "Small Print!" statement.
+
+[3]  Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the
+     gross profits you derive calculated using the method you
+     already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  If you
+     don't derive profits, no royalty is due.  Royalties are
+     payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation"
+     the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were
+     legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
+     periodic) tax return.  Please contact us beforehand to
+     let us know your plans and to work out the details.
+
+WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
+Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of
+public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed
+in machine readable form.
+
+The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time,
+public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses.
+Money should be paid to the:
+"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or
+software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at:
+hart@pobox.com
+
+[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only
+when distributed free of all fees.  Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by
+Michael S. Hart.  Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be
+used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be
+they hardware or software or any other related product without
+express permission.]
+
+*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END*
+