MURDER By An ARISTOCRAT 1 CHAPTER IV It was Bayard. We found him in the library. We stopped our headlong rush at the door. He was lying on the floor near the table. He was on his face, his neck twisted so queerly that you knew at once he was dead. I knew the dressing gown and his hair. Adela, a granite woman with a gray-white face, walked across the rug, knelt, and turned him over. His face was untouched, his mouth open a little, a lock of hair across his forehead, his yellow eyes closed, his arrogant nose sharper. I knew that there v/as nothing I could do. Things wavered and seemed to rock about me. But 1 was aware that Janice was stand ing beside me, her fingers dig ging into my arm, her whole body quivering. And that Higby was in the doorway staring with bulging eyes. And that Adela was trying to speak to me. “Call Dr. Bouligny,” she gasped through blue lips. “Call him. There's a tele phone there. In Dave’s study." Her eyes were two blank blue stones set in a granite face. I saw them change, lose their blankness, and become aware. “No, no,” she said with a sort of gasp. “I’ll telephone. Help me, Emmeline.” Emmeline bent stiffly and laid Bayard back on the rug, and Adela got clumsily to her feet, as if her muscles were drugged. I followed her, for 6he locked very near collapse. I reached the door in the end of the long library in time to hear her gasp into the tele phone: “Dr. Bouligny. Yes. Dr. Bou ligny. Call him—hurry.’’ There was a pause. Adela clutched the telephone and looked w’tn unseeing blue eyes out of the window. The room was small, furnished simply with a desk, some chairs, a leather-covered lounge, and a good rug. On the rug at Adela’s feet lay a small white something. I sup pose I bent, and picked it up, and looked at it merely to give myself something to do. It had looked rather like a tightly folded note, but as I got it into my fingers I found It was only a piece of news paper wadded up tightly as if to make a sort of wedge. “Daniel— Daniel, is it you? Yes, yes. Come at once. It’s Bayard. He’s — been shot. Killed. Hurry, Daniel.” I could hear the click of the other telephone. It was quite dis tinct, and I knew Dr. Bcu ligny had rung off. but Adela continued: "Burglars. There were burglars,” before she put down the telephone. “Now Hilary,” she said in a dazed way. “Now I must call Hi.’ary. No, no—Daniel will stop for him — Hilary must know—” “Adela.” Janice was stand ing in the doorway, her face strained and tight, without beauty or life. “Where is Dave?” Adela didn't drop into a chair, but she leaned slowly against the desk. “I don’t know. I don’t know. Janice, Janice, what will peo ple say?” "But they were fishing. Dave and Allen. Where are they now? Where’s Dave?” Adela made a visible and pathetic effort to pull herself together. That was one of the two occasions when I saw her falter. Her face was still like gray chalk, but somehow she managed to assume that im penetrable cloak of dignity. “They are probably still fishing. They’ll be back to gether soon. I must call Hil ary. I’m convinced—” and how bravely she said it through her blue lips—"I’m convinced it was burglary.’' “Burglary! Why, Adela—do you suppose—I never thought —” Janice’s tight face be came momentarily animated. “Could it be that?” “I’m convinced it was bur glary. Bayard came upon the burglar and was shot. You read of that happening every day in the papers. That’s what happened. The safe’s just back of you, Janice. Isn’t it open?” “Why, no—no, it’s closed.” “But it must have been burglary. I’ll open it. First I’ll call Hilary.” There were voices in the library. Janice turned. "Here is Hilary now. With Dr. Bouligny.” Dr. Bouligny was kneeling. Hilary was at his side look ing down, his plump face the color of ashes. In the door way stood Evelyn, dreadfully pale under her tan. Higby had vanished, but Emmeline re mained, twisting her purple hands and watching Dr. Bou llgny’s mouth. “Hilary—” said Adela. “Good God, Adela, this Is a terrible thing! How did it happen? Who did it? Who found him? Where is Dave?” “Dave is fishing with Al len Carick. They aren’t back yet. Is there nothing you can do, Daniel?” Dr. Bouligny got heavily to his feet. He was a fattish, dark man with a good-natured red face and clothes that always bagged. His face now looked mottled. “There’s nothing to be done. He’s dead. Who did it?” “How long has he been dead?” asked Hilary sharply. “I don’t know. I can’t tell exactly.” The doctor paused thoughtfully and added: “You see, it’s so hot this after noon.” -un, gaspea uveiyn. sne sank into a chair as if her knees refused to hold her and said in a small muffled voice: "What will people say?” Dr. Bouligny glanced quick ly at Hilary and then at Adela. "It’s pretty bad. But I was afraid of this—” ‘‘It’s a plain case of suicide,” interrupted Hilary quickly. His authoritative, slightly pompous manner was return ing. “It’s a plain case of sui cide, and no one can prove it isn’t.” ‘‘Suicide?” said Dr. Bouligny doubtfully, his large head tipped a little to one side as he studied the tragic huddle at his feet. ‘‘Well—” Evelyn rose suddenly, snatched a scarf from a di van, and laid it swiftly and carefully over Bayard, i "You ought to move him. It isn’t decent to just leave him there. Like that. On the floor. After all—it’s Bayard.” "Wait. No. We’ll have to let the sheriff see him, too, just as we found him,” said Dr. Bouligny. ‘‘The sheriff will say sui cide,” said Hilary confidently. “And you are coroner. Dan.” j Dr. Bouligny looked wor ried. "I don't like this scandal any more than you, Hilary. It won’t hurt me as much, of course—but it’s pretty bad for you, everyone knowing there’s ; been bad blood between you and Bayard. Oh, I know—I know—” as Hilary started to protest—"I know you didn’t shoot him, but what will peo ple say, do you think? I’ll do everything I can to smooth it over—hush it up. But if it’s suicide, where’s the gun?” "It’s here,” said Hilary. "It’s here. It’s—why, it must be here!” We were all looking vague ly about on the floor, the tables, all around the body. I cast my mind back to my first view of the body. There had been no gun close to it, then; I was sure of that. "But it isn’t suicide.” said Adela. "It’s burglary. It must have been burglary. There’s —wait, let me look in the safe. The diamonds were there, you know, Hilary.” We followed her into the small study. The sale, an old fashioned affair, massive and clumsy, was set in the wall with no attempt at con cealing its dials. We watched her hands fumbling, turning, twisting. And when the heavy door swung outward we watched her search. And the diamonds were gone. Only a stack of empty boxes remained, their yel lowed satin linings exposed and gaping as Adela’s swift hands opened them one aft er the other. “I knew it,” she said. “I knew it. See, they’re gone. It was burglary. The thief was here, robbing the safe, Bay ard heard him and interfered, and the thief shot Bayard and escaped.” She was dignified, deliberate. She reached out a hand and touched a red mo rocco case. ’’That,” she said, “held my mother’s sunburst.” It was strange to watch the faces slowly lose their look of terrified apprehension, be come slowly more composed; only Janice’s face remained cold and rigid. Dr. Bouligny’s eyes met Hilary’s, and he nodded slowly. “There you arc,” he said in a relieved way. “It’s happened exactly as Adela says. Every body’s heard of the Th.at.cher diamonds. And nobody in the county would believe that Bayard Thatcher shot him self.” “But, my God,” said Hilary, suddenly bewildered and alarmed again, “the dia monds! It’s the family collec tion. They’re worth a small fortune. We’ve got to get hold of them.” “That’s the sheriff’s job,” said Dr. Bouligny, almost blithely, and at the same mo ment Adela, her eyes cold and blank, looked strangely at Hilary. "Don t you think it s worth the price?” she said, coldly. Hilary looked at her, at Dr. Bouligny, at his wife. He got out a handkerchief, wiped his pale face and said: “You’ll fix things up then, Dan?” “I’ll do what I can with honesty,” said Dr. Bouligny. "No more. And there's the sheriff, you know.” “I can fix him,” said Hilary easily. "And there’ll have to be an inquest, of course.” After a moment Adela said with difficulty: "An — in quest!” “Why, yes, of course. A violent death. Murder. There’s got to be an Inquest.” There was another long mo | ment of silence in the little study. The window was closed, I and we could not hear a sound from the outside world, and it was as if no one lived or breathed in the small room. And yet that stillness was oddly palpitant, as if un I spoken words, unuttered ap prehensions, unwelcome thoughts were beating upon our ears. Then Adela stirred, reached out her hand, and closed the gaping door of the safe. It made a heavy, silence i shattering clang. "An inquest,” she repeated. "And what, Daniel, will you ask us at the inquest?” He ran his fingers worried | ly through his thick dark hair. "It won’t be easy,” he said ; unhappily. "There’ll be plen i ty of people just looking for a chance to get at us. To say i there’s something fishy about i it.” Warm though the room was, I saw Adela shiver slight ly, and Hilary’s plump face all at once looked drawn and haggard. "Suppose,” said Adela, "sup pose we go back to the library and talk it over . . . before the sheriff comes.” The last words were separated from ! the rest of her speech in a [ way which gave them sig I niflcance. I followed them back into the large, cool library; I re member feeling as if I were moving about in a night mare and would presently come to my senses. Every 1 thing in the nightmare was. however, extremely clear ano vivid. The windows in the long library were open; the shadows on the green lawn were long now and cool look ing. It was with a shock that my eyes went to that hud dle under the scarf. “Now, then, Daniel,” said Adela. ‘ What will you ask us?” “Don’t put it like that, Adela,” he said worriedly. “You make me feel like a conspirator.” Adela’s eyebrows slid up ward rebukingly. There was a suggestion of outrage in her stiff, desperate dignity. “My dear Daniel,” she said in a remonstrating way. “He’ll want to know when Bayard was last seen alive and who saw him,” said Hil ary. He rubbed his handker chief again over his fore head and touched his mouth with it. “Very well. Janice, you left the house before I did this afternoon, didn’t you?” Janice nodded; her face was still cold and rigid; there was not a trace of beauty in it then, it was a regular, color less mask. “Janice, you see, drove out to the farm this afternoon. Dave and Allen Carick went fishing. They aren’t back yet. I went to the Benevolent So ciety. and Janice stopped on her way back and brought me home. Emmeline was in the summer kitchen making jelly. Higby was mowing the lawn. There was no one but Bayard here all afternoon. Bayard and—the thief.” “No. Wait a minute, Adela.” protested Hilary miserably. “You are wrong. I was here. About four o’clock.” Adela turned slowly and very stiffly. “You! You were nerei you saw Bayard?” Hilary glanced at his wife, started to speak, but she in terrupted him. “Yes, Hilary was here,” said Evelyn directly. “He came in to see how Bayard was get ting on. And I was here. too. I was to stop for Hilary in the roadster. Hilary had gone when I arrived, and I left at once and went to Hilary’s of fice.” “Then you—” began Adela in a frozen way. Dr. Bouligny interrupted. “Then Bayard was alive then? What time was that?” “Yes,” said Evelyn, and Hilary said: “About four o'clock.” “That limits it, then,” said Dr. Bouligny agitatedly. “That limits it. What time did you leave the house, Evelyn?" “It must have been about 20 minutes after four. I was to meet Hilary at four here. I was a little delayed, and he’d gone. I didn’t stay at all, and when I reached his office it was exactly 4:30 by the post office clock.” “And about what time was it when he was found dead?” “We’d just returned,” said Adela, “Janice and I. Emme line found him. She met me there on the step of the porch saying—” her voice left her and she finished in an un expected whisper which was inexpressibly shocking—“say ing he—was—shot!” “Then he was killed some time after 4:20. It was after 5 when you called me—about a quarter after. I take it you telephoned at once? Yes. Where’s Emmeline? See here, how did you happen to dis cover—” Emmeline advanced, her black back stiff, her stained fingers working. “Are you talking to me?” “Yes. About finding Bay ard.” “She’s deaf, you know, Daniel,” reminded Adela. “Oh, God, yes.” Dr. Boul igny rubbed his hands fren ziedly over his hair. “About Bayard.” he shouted. “When did you find him?” “What did you say?” asked Emmeline, watching his heavy mouth. “I said when did you—” (TO BE CONTINUED) Negro Thanked Judge For 30-Day Jail Sentence Salt Lake City, Utah —(UP)— City Judge C. P. Dalby has often been abused by prisoners who were sentenced and blessed at least once. When B. F. Ralston, 77. Negro pastor from Cleveland, Ohio, came to Salt Lake City, streets were heavily covered with snow. “Dls snow, it's Ject got me dc'n.” Rolston told Judge Dalby when brought before him on a va grancy charge. “If you don't [ mind, Jedge. I’d liko to go to jail fo' about fo’ty days." Judge Dalby demurred that 40 days was considerably long for vagrancy charges. but compro mised on a month. “God bless you, Jedge." the preacher said. “Thank do Lawd for that much" Curator WUhes to Make Strange Trade Detroit —(UP)— It’s a strange trade that Jack Ireland. Curator of the Belle Isle zoo. wishes to make, but he avows that ha was never more in earnest than when he offered to swap 23 racorback hogs for $230 worth of wild ducks. It all came about this way: Last summer the wildfowl sanc tuary at Belle Isle suffered from the ravishes of a bird disease and many of the ducks died. At the same time, the razorback hogs were enjoying a healthy season and a normal increase was re corded. Ireland now has many more hogs than he feels necessary. ‘‘Be sides," he said, “hogs ara not beautiful to look at. but they should make excellent game.” He suggested some northern hunting club make the trade and free the hogs on their preserves to furnish rn American duplicate of wild boar hunting. Generous Pat. Pat’s wife was suing hm for maintenance. •'Wo have decided.” the jury fore man reported, "to allow your wife $10 SI w6C?k,M • Why. that’s very eer.erous of you.” said Pat. “I’ll see if I CPn add a quarter ®r two now and then." MAN FIGHTER ASKED PENSION El Paso. Tex. — (UP) — If the 'ovrrnment owed Jose Gallegos anything, it had baen forgot f-en until the ICO-vear-old Indian "-liter recently applied for pen sion. Gallegcs Is one of two known ■urvlvors of Lieut. Frank H. Mills’ '"mous detachment of Pueblo In dian scoots, who fought the Apaches if New Mexico a half century ago. The other is Sastinas Gonzales also •v flits city, already receiving pen sion. Before Gallegos was d’spos sfsscd of his farm six years ago, he had no need for penson, he tolrl an Interpreter. Now ho needs assistance. Indian fights still are vivid to I hr aged scout. He likes beet to -el' r> fUr* t'me he and 30 others rout ed 160 Caches who hod peeked a wagon train. “Our only casual ties were a few mules,” he re called. A few days later another train was attacked by 230 Indians and ! Gallegos remembers the outcome was more disastrous. Before the scouts arrived the Indians had killed the. entire grouD of freight ers. Overtaken 25 miles away, the Apaches fought the scouts all day before being routed, leaving 60 dead a^d wounded. Ten scout? were slain. Breeding Resulted in Two Strains of Rabbits Detroit —(UP)— Tv.a strains ol rabbits, bearing fur vaich rivals that of the silver squirrel and the black silver fox, have resulted from seloctive breeding, conduct ed by Oliver E. Jones, of Dear born. Jonas’ bological experiment shows no apparent difference in the appearance and quality of the two furs, except that the “black silver fox” rabbit has a shortei pelt. The rabbit fur could be dis tinguished from the genuine only by the expert furrier or advanced biologist, even to when one blows on the fluffy coat and is unable to expose the skin beneath. Jones said he had established the permanency of the tyypes bj keeping the identical strains with out variation for seven years Since a rabbit matures in si» months, he reasoned, that takes the process through 14 genera tions and proves their perman ency. Jones feeds his young rabbits twice a day on a small ration ol oats, potato peelings or shorts along with what alfalfa they can nibble. Regularity in feeding and freedc®-* from drafts is the sacrel of developing them in this way Jones said. Detroit Claims Lowest Death Rate for 1932 Detroit —(UP)— For the second consecutive year, Detroit has claimed the distinction of having the lowest death rate for any ol the large cities of the world. Annual figures compiled by the 1 Commissioner of Health, Dr. Hen ry F. Vaughan, indicate that the record low of 8.8 deaths per 1.00C population in 1931 has been eclipsed by the 1932 record of 8.6 per 1,000. l While figures from other cities arc not yet available, Dr. Vaughan said he believed that Detroit would again lead the world in liealthlulness. The tuberculosis death rate was revealed as having dropped 3.5 per 100,000 to a low figure of 70.3 per 100.000 during 1932. HO deaths from smallpox occurred in Detroit all during 1932, and 1 deaths from diyptheria were ap preciably lowered to 4.1 per 1,000 population, the reports showed. On the other hand, the birth rate dropped to 17.1 per 1,000 dur ing the year just past as com pared with 18.6 for 1931. Jricture or Murderer May Lead to Reunion Seattle —(UP)— The picture in .he paper of a convicted murderer may lead to reunion of sister and brother long parted, if present ef f forts reach fruition. John Zerfass, “kiss slayer.” who (is awaiting appeal from a life sen tence for killing a naturopathic physician who kissed his wife, is the murder in question. His pic ture recently appeared showing him playing poker with other murderers in a Seattle cell. Miss G. Zerfass. Queens Village, N. Y., saw the picture and won dered if the convicted man wasn’t the son of her long missing brother. In his cell here, Zerfass said his father, John Zerfas, Sr., is a plasterer in Stockton. Cal., and asked police to forward his fathers' address to Miss Zerfass. BARRED FROM RESORT Hampton Beach, N. H. —(UP)— Weary wives of Hampton coun ty farmers have enjoyed unusual vacations here this year. They spent a week at the seashore, with their husbands barred from the resort. Crockery Bottoms Form Sidewalks Tyler. Tex. — (UP) — Crockery bottoms form the queer sidewalk at the home of Mrs. A. B. Pitts, in the Starrville community near here. Necks of the crockery are turned down, leaving the smooth surface of the bottoms for the walk. Who made the strange walk. . Mrs. Pitts does not know. It was } there when she acquired the prop erty. December Took Record as Year’s Longest Day December 22 is, strange to say, the “longest” day of the year, and not the shortest, thus taking the rec ord for length from June 21, the first day of summer. Here is the expla nation of this apparently contradic tory state of affairs, as given by Dr. C. C. Wylie, associate profession of astronomy at the University of Iowa: “Because of the fact that we use mean time rather than apparent time, sun noon is later from day to day by thirty seconds near the date of the winter solstice. In mid-No vember, for those living near a standard meridian, sun noon ocean about sixteen minutes before 12:00, while in February It occurs about fourteen minutes after 12:00. “When sun noon is falling later from day to day by a clock running on mean, or average, time the length of day defined as the interval from sun noon to sun noon is more than twenty-four hours. In this sense the longest day last year was December 22." Last June 21, the first day of sum mer astronomers point out, was the longest day of the year in the num ber of hours of daylight, whereas December 22, when measured from noon to noon, had just 30 and two hundredths seconds more than 24 hours. A very close race but De cember 22 stretched ahead barely enough to win the title of “the year's longest day.” What SHE TOLD WORN OUT HUSBAND CHE could have reproached him ~ for hi* fits of temper—his “all in” complaints. 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