THE= = I n
CURVED
BLADES
By CAROLYN WELLS
[Author of JA Chain of Evidence,” “The Gold
Bag,” “The Clue," “The White Alley,” Etc. ^
, CHAPTER XVIII—ContinueC.
“Yes, for the simple reason
that she would not have invented
all that talk. Even if she were in
the room herself, and the remarks
were addressed to her, she might
be trying to lay the blame else
where; to create that conversa
tion out of her own brain is too
preposterous. You see,. 'lardy,
these things must bo weighed in
the balance of probability. If
Miss Fraync had set on', to invent
a lo of'stuff which she merely
pretended to overhear, she would
have Lad two sides to the conver
sation. It is that unusual effect
of one voice only that gives her
story the stamp of truth.”
“But there must have been an
other voice, even though inaudible
to her.”
“That's just the point. There
may have been—probably was.
But if the story was her own in
vention, she never would have
though of representing that sec
ond voice as inaudible. Now, ei
ther she did hear Miss Carrington
say those things, or she didn’t. I
believe she did, because if she
hadn’t she must have invented the
tale, and if she; had invented it,
it would have been different.
Likewise, Miss Stuart’s snake
story. If it were not true that
her aunt asked her to buy that
snake, Miss Stuart must have
made up that yarn. And if she
had made it up, it would have
been different. That’s always my
test for the truth of an amazing
statement. If the teller were fal
sifying, would he tell it that way?
If so, then it is probably a lie; if
not, then probably it is a true bill.
Now thoy say Miss Carrington
had a high, shrill .voice. Did you
ever hear it, Hardy?”
“No. I never knew the lady.
But I’ve heard a record of it on
the phonograph, and it is high,
and rather thin.”
“On the phonograph? How
does that happen?”
“Gray Havilaml is a dabster at
that sort of thing, and he has peo
ple sing for him and make records
frequently. And once I heard
that they had a record of the dead
woman’s singing, and I asked to
hear it, merely out of curiosity or
a general interest. And it con
tained some spoken words, too,
end her speaking voice is high
and shrill, just such as would car
ry through a closed door. You
can, of course, hear the record, if
you care to.”
“I do care to. I’ll make a note
of that. Now, here’s another
thing. Miss Stuart has declared
that she obliterated a footprint
which was noticeable in that pow
der scattered by the dressing
table.”
1 v'JS, 1 &IIUW it. /\1U1 XXttYl
land states that it was he who
wiped out that print! What do
you make of that?”
“That Haviland did do it, and
Miss Stuart fibbed about it to
shield Haviland.”
”Oh, so it's Haviland you think
Miss Pauline is shioldi »g?”
” 1 think it may be ; at any rate,
she suspects some one dear to her
and—
“You’re ’way off, Mr. Stone!
If you’ll excuse my saying so,
Miss. Stuart lias pulled the wool
over your eyes until you don’t
know where you’re at.”
Fleming stone gasped. Pulled
wool over his eyes! Over the
eyes, the gimlet eyes, the all-see
ing eyes of Fleming Stone! What
could (he man mean? And this sol
called wool pulled by a woman! I
What unheard of absurdity 1
“Mr. Hardy-” he began:
‘‘Yes, yes, I know. Nothing of
the sort, and all that. But it’s
tr* Mr. Stone. Miss Stuart is a I
siren from Sirenville. She can
make any man think black is
white if she so chooses. And she
has hbfcn bullied and cowed by
that old aunt of hers for years,
and for my part, I don’t blame
her for getting to the end of her
rope. If.she ” ; r .
‘‘Stop! Mr. Hardy, I know yog
think you’re right, but -you dre
not! Do you hear, you are not!
And I’U prove it to you, and that
soon! I’ll ferret out this thing,
and 1do it on this new theory
of mine whether you believe it or
notl”.
Hardy looked at the man in
amazepient. He, had expected a
different mode of procedure from
•
19
this talented sleuth. He* had
looked for a quiet, even icy, de
meanor, and magical and instan
taneous solution of all mystery.
And here was the great man,
clearly baffled at the queerly tan
gled web of evidence, and, more
over, caught in the toils of a1
woman whom Hardy fully be
lieved to be the criminal herself.
Hut he only said quietly,
“What way does your theory
point, Mr. Stone? I may be able
to help you.”
' ‘ Y ou can’t, Hardy, because
you’re so determined to find Miss
Stuart guilty that you couldn’t
see it as I do. You consider the
strange features of this case —and
Lord knows they are strange!—
separately, whereas they must be
looked at as a whole. The gown,
the quantity of jewelry, the smil
ing face, the glove, the overheard
conversation—-all these points are
to be considered as one of import
as leading to one conclusion.
And you think of them as impli
cating separately, mind you—
Miss Stuart, Miss Fraync and the
noble count. Now, all those queer
points are not only conne^ed, but
identical in their significance. But
never mind that. Here’s the place
to begin. Miss Carrington was
poisoned. She didn’t poison her
self. Who did?”
Mr. Stone, you have put it
tersely. I entirely agree that all
vve are seeking is the answer to
that, last question of yours.”
“I will yet give it to you,” and
l'leming Stone spoke solemnly
rather than boastingly. “The
poison, the aconitine, was taken
by Miss Carrington as she sat
there at hep owp dressing tfible.
She took it willingly, smiling
“Yes, because she didn’t know
she was taking it. When she ate
the sandwich- ”
.“The poison wasn’t in the sand
wich. She took that poison in wa
ter. The tumbler and spoon that
were used are even now on the
glass shelf in her bath room.”
“You know this?”
“I know that in the glass that
now stands there a chemist has
found a slight trace of aconite. I
took the glass myself to be tested,
with that result. This is not a
great discovery, it merely proves
that the poison was administered
in water, not in a sandwich.”
“But it also means that it was
given to her by someone who
could persuade her to take the so
lution, unquestioningly—not un
der compulsion.”
“It would seem so.”
“And that points to Miss Stu
art.”
iNot necessarily. Hardy, I re
fuse to discuss these things with
you if you avow everything to
condemn her. Why does what I
have just told you point to Miss
Stuart any more than anyone else
in the house! Why not Miss
Fraynet Or Havilandt”
“Pshaw! Nobody suspects
Gray Haviland.”
“But why not! If you’re mere
ly suspecting here and there with
out definite reason, why not in
clude him on your list! And here’s
another thing. Whoever mixed
that poison in the glass of water,
afterward rinsed the glass and re
turned it to its place in the bath
room. This was either done at the
time, that is, before the lady died,
or late? on, after death had en
sued. In either case, it opens up a
field of conjecture.”
“It doesn’t with me,” said
Hardy, bluntly. “There’s no
room for conjecture. It simply
piles up the proof against Miss
Stuart, and all your skill and even
your will can’t get her off.”
A low moan was heard and a
sound as of a falling body. Stone
sprang to the door, and flinging
it open, disclosed Pauline lying on
.the floor where she had just fallen.
With a low exclamation, Stone
picked her up and carried her to a
cojich. In a moment she sat up
*nd cried, “What do you mean,
Mr. Hardy-! Do you think I killed
Aunt Lucy!”
“There, there, Miss Stuart,
don’t ask foolish questions,” and
Hardy, deeply embarrassed, stood
at bay. It was one thing to assert
his suspicions to Fleming Stone,
and quite another to have them
overheard by this beautiful and
| indignant girl.
: j “How dare you!” Pauline
Ii went on. “I was nt the door and
! I heard all you said. No, I am not
|ashamed of listening, I’m glad I
j did. Now I know what I have to
j fight against! And you, Mr.
j Stone, do you think me a mur
derer!”
Pauline cringed not at all. She
looked more like an avenging god
dess, as she confronted the tw<
men, and her blazing eyes and
frowning face challeged their re
plies.
“I do not, Miss Stuart,” said
Stone, quietly, but Pauline re
sponded, “How do I know! If
you did, you’d say you didn’t 1 I
have no friend, no one to stand up
for. I shall send for Carr. He
will defend me.”
With a disdainful glance round
she left the room. The two mer
looked at one another.
“Guilty,” said Hardy.
“Never!” said Stone, and then
the two went their different ways
Hardy’s way led to police head
quarters, and his report there
which included Stone’s story of
the tested glass, was heard with
interest.
He demanded Miss Stuart’s im
mediate arrest, claiming that only
she could have persuaded her
aunt to swallow the poisoned
draught.
Inspector Brunt was not quite
willing to order arrest, but he set
machinery at work which hr
hoped would bring decisive re
sults of some sort.
It did.
That same evening, Paulint
went to Fleming Stone. The two
were alone. Standing before him
in all her somewhat tragic beau
ty, Pauline asked. “You don’t
think me guilty, Mr. Stone!”
He looked deep in the great
dark eyes that seemed to chal
lenge his very soul, and after a
moment’s steady glance, he re
plied, “I know you are not, Miss
Stuart.”
oan you prove it?”
“I hope to.”
“That means nothing. Arc you
sure you can!”
Pleming Stone looked troubled.
Never before in his career had he
been unable to declare his surety
of success; but with those com
pelling eyes upon him he couldn’t
deny a present doubt.
Shaking himself, as if to b<
freed from a spell, he said, at last,
“Miss Stuart, I am not sure. I
am convinced of your innocence,
but the only theory of guilt that I
can conceive of is so difficult, so
almost impossible of proof, and so
lacking in plausibility, that it
seems hopeless. If determination
and desperate effort can do it, yoq
shall be exonerated. But there
are many circumstances not in
your favor. These I shall over
come, eventually. But, to be hon
est, until I can get a clue or a
link of some sort to join my
purely imaginative theory to some
tangible fact, I can do little. i
am working day and night in m>
efforts to find this connection !
seek, but it may take a long time
Meanwhile-’ ’
“Meanwhile, I may be arrest
ed!” Pauline’s voice was a mere
whisper; her face was drawn and
white with fear. To Stone she
did not look like a guilty woman
but like an innocent girl, fright
ened at thought of unjust suspi
cion and terrorized by imagina
tion of the unknown horrors that
might come to her.
“Oh, help mel” she moaned.
“Mr. Stone, can’t you help me!”
“Pauline!” he exclaimed, tak
ing her hands in his; “Pauline
Go!” he cried tensely: “I wil.’
save you, but until I do, keej
away from me! You unnerve me
I cannot think!”
“I understand!” and Pauline
slowly drew her hands from his
“I will keep away from you.”
Stone let her go. He closed th<
door after her, locked it, and
threw himself into a chair. What
had he done! Pull well he knew
what he had done. Hardy wat
right. He had fallen in love with
Pauline Stuart! He realized it
quietly, honestly, as he would
have realized any incontrovertibh
fact. His subconsciousness was
that of a deep, still gladness; but,
strangely enough, his surfac.
thought was that since he had fall
en in love with her, so undenia
bly, so irrevocably, she must be
innocent.
Then on the heels of this
thought, came another, equally
logical: if he deemed her inno
cent, was it not only because he
loved her!
It was only after an hour of
deep thought that Fleming Stone
pulled himself together and real
ized with a conquering assurance,
that he could go on with the case,
and do his dnty. If, as he was
confident, he could prove his
vague theory to bo fact, then his
love for Pauline would help him
to good work and triumphant con
■ -st ■ r* v--. : - »"*.
elusions. If, instead, his further'
investigations showed his theory
to be false, then he must push on
and if—it couldn’t be, but if—
well—he could always drop the
case. But—and of this he was
certain—his heart should not only
be kept from interfering with the
' work of his head but it should
help and encourage such desper
ately clever work that sucees
I must come.
Pauline did not appear at din
[ner that night., and on inquiry
Stone was told she had gone over
to New York for a day or two.
This, then, was what she had
meant when she said, “I will keep
away from you.”
The next day came District At
torney Matthews to interview
Miss Stuart. Her absence from
home annoyed him and he asked
for her New York address. This
no one knew, as she had not in
formed any of them where she
was staying in the city, and Mr.
Matthews went off in a state of
angry excitement. But the house
hold at Garden Steps was even
more excited.
For this was the first sign of a
definite action against Pauline.
What it meant or how far it would
go, no one could say.
And then, that afternoon, csni.
a letter from Pauline herself. It
had been mailed in New York
that morning and contained *u
surprising news that Pauline had
sailed at noon that day for Alex
andria.
“Get her back!” roared Havi
land, as he read the letter.
“Wireless the steamer and make
her get picked up by some incom
ing ship! Don’t think of expense!
She mustn’t run offlike that!
It’s equivalent to confession of the
crime!”
“Hush!” demanded Fleming
Stone. “How dare you say
that?”
“It’s true!” cried Anita.
“Why else would Pauline run
away? She knew she was on the
verge"bf arrest and she fled to
Carr Loria. ^Ie will hide her
from her pursuers ^-1
“He can,” said Jlaviland,
thoughtfully: “maybe it’s as well
she’s gone there. Of course, she
did it.”
“Of course, she didn’t!” and
Fleming Stone’s voice trembled
in its very intensity. “And I
shall prove to a lot of dunder
headed police that she didn’t, but
it will make my work much hard
er if you two insist on Miss Stu
art’s guilt. Why do you want to
railroad her into conviction of a
crime she never dreamed of?”
“Then who did it?” demanded
Anita. “To whom was Miss Lucy
speaking when she said those
things I heard?”
“If you harp on that string
much longer,” said Stone, looking
at her, “one might almost be jus
tified in thinking she said them
to you.”
“No,” said Anita, in a low,
awed voice, and looking straight
at Fleming Stone, “no, she did not
say them to me.”
And Stone knew she spoke the
solemn truth.
But she had not spoken the
truth when she said she saw Pau
line Stuart coming from the bou
doir of her aunt.
XIX.
LETTERS FROM THE FUGITIVE.
Pauline's flight was deemed by
many a confession of guilt. The dis
trict attorney declared his intention of
cabling a command to hold her for ex
amination at Alexandria. Or, he said,
perhaps it would be better to inter
cept her course at Gibraltar or Naples.
The people at Garden Steps paid
little attention to these suggestions,
so absorbed were they In planning for
themselves.
“Poor child,” said Haviland, “she
ran away in sheer panic. You don't
know Pauline as we do, Mr. Stone;
she Is brave in the face of a present
or material danger. When a garden
er's cottage burned, she was a real
heroine, and saved a tiny baby at risk
of her own life. But always a vague
fear or an intangible dread throws her
into a wild, irresponsible state, and
she loses her head utterly. Now, I
may as well own up that I do think
Polly committed this deed. I think
that she had stood Aunt Lucy as long
as she possibly could, and you've no
idea what the poor child had to put up
with. I think that when Lady Lucy
threatened to send Pauline away,
homeless and penniless, this panic of
fear overcame her and she gave that
poison, on an Impulse-”.
“But,” interrupted Stone, "that
would imply her having the,poison in
readiness. She couldn't procure it at
a moment’s notice.”
(Continued Next Week.)
Asserting that Col. Raymond Robins,
former head of the American Red Cross
mission In Russia, employed a bolshevlst
Interpreter and a bolshevlst secretary,
from whom he secured "all his Informa
tion on Russian afTalrs," Gen. A. N. Dobr
Janaky, former general of technical aid
to the Russian minister of war, declares
that Colonel Robins “knows nothing at
all about the true state of Russian af
fairs under Lenlue and Trouky.”
HAD TO SAVE THOSE PANTS
Paul Musser in Much the Same Pre
dicament as Is the German
Nation Today.
“Germany will do anything to pre
vent a commercial boycott,” declared
Secretary Lansing the other dny.
“Regardless of the outcome of the
peace conference, she stands or falls by
her future trade. Germany’s position
reminds me of Paul Musser of my
home town.
“Paul, one wintry day, started to
repair a water pipe on the outside of
his house. He sat on the concrete
steps while he worked. Half an hour
later, when lie tried to rise, he found
he couldn’t. •His trousers were frozen
to the steps. So he enlled to his wife
and explained ills predicament.
"Mrs. Musser got a kettle of hot
water and proceeded to thaw him out.
“ ‘The water was pretty gol darn
hot,’ admitted Musser, but I deter
mined to save them there pants at all
hazards.' ’’
FRECKLES
N«w !• Ike Time le Get Rid of These Ujflj Spots
There’s no longer the slightest need of feeling
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Simply get in ounce of Othlne—double
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that even the worst freckles have begun to dis
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Is needed to completely clear the skin and gain
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Be sure to ask for the double strength Othlne.
as this la sold under guarantee of money back
If It fails to remove freckles.—Adv.
Real Chinese Puzzle.
On the mantelpiece of his dressing
room at Drury Lane theater Alfred
Lester has an array of quaint little
wooden figures of Chinese workman
ship. They were sent to him by a
friend from Shanghai. I saw them
the other day.
“Tlds one is supposed to be me,”
said Lester, gloomily pointing to a
little man in a cart. “It is either a
hoodoo or a mandarin going to
etiurch—I forget which.”—Exchange.
Just say To*?fu? groeeTTted Cross!
Ball Blue when buying bluing. You
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The wisdom of a woman who is
Yaln of her beauty Is equal to that of
a man who Is vain of his brains.
Don’t worry yourself and others with
what can’t be remedied.
In the Spring-time
It's just at
this time of
the year that
we need some
thing taken
from Nature
to restore the
vital forces.
People get
sick because they go away from Nature,
and the only way to get well is to go back.
Something grows out of the ground in
the form of vegetationlto cure almost
every ill. . "
Dr. Pierce, of Buffalo, N. Y., long
since found herbs and roots provided
by Nature to overcome constipation,
and of these he selected Mayapple, leaves
of Aloe, root of Jalap, and from them
made little white sugar-coated pills, that
he called Dr. Pierce’s Pleasant Pellets.
When your intestines are stopped up,
poisons and decayed matter are im
prisoned in your system and these are
carried by the blood through your
body. Thus does your head ache, you
get dizzy, you can’t sleep, your skin
may break out, your appetite declines
you get tired and despondent. As a
matter of fact, you may get sick all over.
Don’t you see how useless all this suffer
ing is? All that is often needed is a dose
of castor oil, or something which is more
pleasant, a few of Dr. Pieroe’s Pleasant
Pellets, which he has placed in almost
every drug store in this country
for r your convenience and health.
Try them by all means. They are proba
bly the very thing vou need.—right now.
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Ijiggl
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Resolution.
“Your husband boasts of his Indomi
table will."
“Yes,” said the woman with the pa
tient expression. “When he pets his
ruind set on anything lie's absolutely
indifferent to worldly tilings. I have
known John to set his teeth Rnd spend
two or three weeks solving a puzzle
in the back of a magazine."
It takes a barrel of dough to make
a homely poor girl a pretty rich one.
The less honor a man has the more
sensitive he is on the subject.
When Your Eyes Need Care
Try Murine Eye Remedy
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— V