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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 24, 1936)
I THE if [GARDEN MURDER CASE <?y S.S.yAN DINE [COPVRIGHT \V S.S,VAN DINE W.N.U. SERVICE. SYNOPSIS Philo Vance, famous detective, and John F. X. Markham, district attorney for New York county, are dining in Vance's apartment when Vance receives an anonymous telephone message in forming him of a "disturbing psychologi cal tension at Professor Ephriam Gar den’s apartment" advising that he read up on radio-active sodium, consult a passage in the Aeneid and counseling . that "Equanimity is essential." Pro fessor Garden is famous in chemical research. The message, decoded by Vance, reminds him that Professor Gar den's son Floyd and his puny cousin. Woode Swift, are addicted to horse-rac ing. Vance says that "Equanimity” is a horse running next day in the River mont handicap. Vance is convinced that the message was sent by Dr. Siefert. the Gardens' family physician. He ar ranges to have lunch next day at the Gardens' penthouse. Vance is greeted by Floyd Garden and meets Lowe Hammle, an elderly follower of horse racing. Floyd expresses concern over Swift's queer actions. Mrs. Garden, sup posedly ill, comes downstairs and places a $100 bet on a horse. Gathered around an elaborate loud speaker service, listen ing to the racing are Cecil Kroon. Madge Weatherby and Zalia Graem, who bet varying amounts on the race. fThere is tension under the surface gai ety. Zalia and Swift are not on speak ing terms. Kroon leaves to keep an appointment before the race starts. Miss Beeton, a nurse, and Vance bet on "Azure Star.” Swift recklessly bets $10. 000 on "Equanimity” and goes to the roof garden to hear the results. Floyd follows Swift, remaining away several minutes. Zalia answers a phone call in the den. CHAPTER HI—Continued As the radio tubes warmed up. (McElroy’s well-known voice gained in volume over the loud speaker: "... and Equanimity is now i making trouble at the post. Took the ’Cue from Head Start . . . Now they’re both back in their stalls— it looks as if we might get a—Yes! .They’re off! And to a good even start. Hyjinx has dashed into the lead; Azure Star comes next; and Heat Lighting is close behind. The others are bunched. I can’t tell one from the other yet. Wait a second. (Here they come past us—and it’s Hyjinx on top now, by two lengths; and behind her is Train Time; and— yes, it's Sublimate, by a head, or a nose, or a neck—it doesn’t mat ter—it’s Sublimate anyway. And there’s Risky Lad creeping up on Sublimate . . . And now they’re go ing round the fist turn, with Hyjinx .still in the lead. The relative posi tions of the ones out front haven’t changed yet . . . They’re in the back stretch, and Hyjinx is still ahead by half a length; Train Time has moved up and holds his second position by a length and a half ahead of Roving Flirt, who’s in third place. Azure Star is a length behind Roving Flirt. Equanimity is pocketed.” At this point in the broadcast Zalia Graem appeared suddenly in the archway and stood with her eyes fixed on the radio, her hands sunk in the pockets of her tailored jacket. "... They’re rounding the far turn. Equanimity has improved his position and is getting into his fa mous stride. Hyjinx has dropped back and Roving Flirt has taken the lead by a head, with Train Time second, by a length, in front of Azure Star, who is running third and making a grand effort . . . And now they’re in the stretch. Azure Star has come to the front and is a full length in the lead. Train Time is making a great bid for this classic and is still in sec ond place, a length behind Azure Star. Roving Flirt is right behind him. Hyjinx has dropped back and it looks as if she was no longer a serious contender. Equanimity is pressing hard and is now in sixth place. He hasn’t much time, but he’s running a beautiful race and may come up front yet. . . . And here they come to the finish. The leaders are straight out — there won’t be much change. Just a sec ond. Here they come . . . and . . . the winner is Azure Star by two lengths. Next is Roving Flirt. And a length behind him is Train Time. Upper Shelf finished fourth . . .” "Not such a hot race,” Miss Craem remarked with a toss of her head. "I’ll just about break even . . . Now I’ll go and finish my phone call.” And she turned back down the hall. Garden seemed ill at ease and. for the second time that afternoon, mixed himself a highball. Just then Mrs. Garden bustled into the room. "Don’t tell me I’m too late!” she pleaded excitedly. "All over but the O. K., mater,” Garden informed her. "And what did I do?” The wom an came forward and dropped wearily into an empty chair. "The usual,” grinned Garden. “A l Grand Score? Your noble steed didn’t score at all. Condolences. But it’s not official yet. We’ll be getting the O. K. in a minute now.” "Oh, dear!” sighed Mrs. Garden despondently. '‘Well," said Garden, "Mr. Vance, the eminent dopester of crimes and ponies, can now take a luxurious vacation. He's the possessor of thirty-six hundred and forty dollars —of which thirty-six dollars and forty cents goes to our dear nurse . . . And Woode, of course . . His voice trailed off. "What did Woody do?" demanded Mrs. Garden, sitting up stiffly in her chair. "I'm frightfully sorry, mater,"— her son groped for words—"but Woody didn’t use his head. I tried to dissuade him, but it was no go ... " “Well, what did Woody do?” per sisted Mrs. Garden. Garden hesitated, and before he could formulate an answer, a para lyzing sound, like a pistol shot, broke the tense silence. Vance was the first on his feet. His face was grim as he moved rap idly toward the archway. I followed him, and just behind came Gar den. As I turned into the hallway I saw the others in the drawing room get up and move forward. As we hurried down the hall Zalia Graem opened the den door. “What was that?" she asked, her frightened eyes staring at us. "We don’t know yet,” Var.ce told her. In the bedroom door, at the lower end of the hall, stood the nurse, with a look of inquiring concern on her otherwise placid face. “You’d better come along. Miss Beeton,” Vance said, as he started up the stairs two at a time. "You may be needed.” Vance swung into the upper corri dor and stopped momentarily at the door on the right, which led out upon the roof. This door was still propped open, and after a hasty preliminary survey through it, he stepped quickly out into the garden. The sight that met oiu eyes was not wholly unexpected. There, in the low chair which he had pointed out to us earlier that afternoon, sat Woode Swift, slumped down, with his head thrown back at an un natural angle against the rattan head-rest, and his legs straight out before him. He still wore the ear phone. His eyes were open and staring; his lips were slightly part ed; and his thick glasses were tilted forward on his nose. In his right temple was a small ugly hole beneath which two or three drops of already coagulating blood had formed. His right arm hung limp over the side of 11 e chair, and on the colored tiling just under his hand lay a small pearl-handled revolver. Vance immediately approached the motionless figure, and the rest of us crowded about him. Zalia Graem, who had forced her way forward and was now standing be side Vance, swayed suddenly and caught at his arm. Her face had gone pale, and her eyes appeared glazed. Vance turned qu:ckly and, putting his arm about her, half led and half carried her to a large wick er divan nearby. He made a beck oning motion of his head to Miss Beeton. “Look after her for a moment,” he requested. "And keep her head down.” Then he returned to Swift. “Every one please keep back,” he ordered. “No one is to touch him.” He took out his monacle and ad justed it carefully. Then he leaned over the crumpled figure in the chair. He cautiously scrutinized the wound, the top of the head, and the tilted glasses. When this examina tion was over he knelt down on the tiling and seemed to be search ing for something. Apparently he did not find what he sought, for he stood up with a discouraged frown and faced the others. “Dead,” he announced, in an un wontedly sombre tone. “I’m taking charge of things temporarily.” For a brief moment Vance stood in thought. Then: “You will all be so good as to go downstairs and re main there until further orders.” “But what are you going to do, Mr. Vance?” asked Mrs. Garden in a frightened tone. “We must keep this thing as quiet as possible . . . My poor Woody!” “I’m afraid, madam, we shall not be able to keep it quiet at all.” Vance spoke with earnest sig nificance. “My first duty will be to telephone the district attorney and the homicide bureau.” Mrs. Garden gasped. “The district attorney? The Hom icide bureau?” she repeated dis tractedly. “Oh, no! . . . Why must you do that? Surely, any one can see that the poor boy took his own life.” Vance shook his head slowly. "I regret madam,” he said, “that this is not a case of suicide . . It’s murder!” Following Vance’s unexpected an nouncement there was a sudden si lence. Every one moved reluctant ly toward the door to the passage way. Only Garden remained behind. "Is there a telephone up here?" Vance asked. "Yes, certainly,” replied Garden, here’s one in the study.” Garden brushed past us with nervous energy, as if glad of the opportunity for action. He threw open the door at the end of the passageway and stood aside for us to enter the study., "Over there,” he said, pointing to the desk at the far end of the room, on which stood a hand tele phone. "That's an open line. No connection with the one we use for the ponies, though it’s an extension of the phone in the den.” He stepped swiftly behind the desk and threw a black key on the switch box that was attached to the side of the desk. "By leaving the key in this position, you are disconnected from the ex tension downstairs, so that you have complete privacy." "Oh, quite,” Vance nodded with a faint smile. "I use the same sys tem in my own apartment. Thanks awfully for your thoughtfulness . . . And now please join the others downstairs and try to keep things balanced for a little while—there’s a good fellow.” Garden took his dismissal with good grace and went toward the door. "Oh, by the way. Garden,” Vance called after him, “I’ll want a little chat with you in private, before long.” Garden turned, a troubled look on his face. "I suppose you’ll be wanting me to rattle all the family skeletons for you? But that’s all right. When you’re ready for me you’ve only to press that buzzer on tht book shelves there, just behind the desk.” He indicated a white push-button set flush in the center of a small square japanned box on the upright “Bather Interesting:, This Dis array," He Observed. between two sections of the book shelves. "That’s part of the inter communicating system between this room and the den. I’ll see that the den door is left open, so that I can hear the buzz wherever I am.” Vance nodded curtly, and Garden, after a momentary hesitation, turned and went from the room. As soon as Garden could be heard making his way down the stairs, Vance closed the door and went im mediately to the telephone. A mo ment later he was speaking to Mark ham. "The galloping horses, old dear,” he said. "The Trojans are riding roughshod. Equanimity was need ed, but came in too far behind. Re sult, a murder. Young Swift is dead. And it was as clever a per formance as I’ve yet seen . . . No. Markham,”—his voice suddenly be came grave—“I’m not spoofing. I think you’d better come immedi ately. And notify Sergeant Heath, if you can reach him, and the medi cal examiner.” He replaced the receiver slowly. "This is a subtle crime, Van,” he meditated. "Too subtle for my peace of mind. I don’t like it—I don’t at all like it. And I don’t like this intrusion of horse-racing. Sheer expediency ...” He went thoughtfully to the north window and looked out on the gar den. The rattan chair with its grue some occupant could not be seen from the study, as it was far to the left of the window, near the west balustrade. “I wonder . . .” He turned from the window abruptly and came back to the desk. "A few words with the colorless Garden are indicated, before the minions of the law arrive.” He placed his finger on the white button in the buzzer box and de pressed it for a second. Then he went to the door and opened it. Several moments went by, but Gar den did not appear, and Vance again pressed the button. After a full minute or two had passed without any response to his summons, Vance started down the passage way to the stairs, beckoning me to follow. As he came to the vault door on the right, he halted abruptly. He scrutinized the heavy calamine door for a moment or two. At first glance it seemed to be closed tightly, but as I looked at it more closely, I noticed that it was open a fraction of an inch, as if the spring catch, which locked it automatical ly, had failed to snap when the door had last been shut. Vance pushed on the door gently with the tips of hia fingers, and it swung inward slowly and ponderously. “Deuced queer,” he commented. “A vault for preserving valuable documents—and the door unlocked. I wonder ...” CHAPTER IV The lights from the hall shone into the dark recess of the vault, and as Vance pushed the door further inward a white cord hanging from a ceiling light became visible. To the end of this cord was attached a miniature brass pestk which acted as a weight. Vance stepped imme diately inside and jerked the cord, and the vault was flooded with light “Vault" hardly describes this small storeroom, except that the walls were unusually thick, and it had obviously been constructed to serve as a burglar-proof repository. The room was about five by seven feet, and the ceiling was as high as that of the hallway. The walls were lined with deep shelves from floor to ceiling, and these were piled with all manner of papers, docu ments, pamphlets, filing cases, and racks of test-tubes and vials labeled with mysterious symbols. Three of the shelves were devoted to a se ries of sturdy steel cash and security boxes. The floor was overlaid with small squares of black and white ceramic tile. Although there w’as ample room for us both inside the vault, I re mained in the hallway, watching Vance as he looked about him. Vance leaned over and picked up a batch of scattered typewritten pa pers which had evidently been brushed down from one of the shelves directly opposite the door. He glanced at them for a moment and carefully replaced them in the empty space on the shelf. “Rather interestin’, this dis array,” he observed. “The professor was obviously not the last person in here, or he would certainly not have left his papers on the floor ...” He wheeled about. “My word!” he exclaimed in a low tone. “These fallen papers and that unlatched door ... It could be, don’t y’ know.” There was a sup pressed excitement in his manner. “I say, Van, don’t come in here; and, above all, don’t touch this door knob.” He knelt down on the tiled floor and began a close inspection of the small squares, as if he were count ing them. His action reminded me of the way he had inspected the til ing on the root near the chair in which we had found young Swift. It occurred to me that he was seek ing here what he had failed to find in the garden. “It should be here,” he mur mured. “It would explain many things—it would form the first vague outline of a workable pattern . . .” After searching about for a min ute or two, he stopped abruptly and leaned forward eagerly. Then he took a small piece of paper from his pocket and adroitly flicked some thing onto it from the floor. Fold ing the paper carefully, he tucked it away in his waistcoat pocket. Al though I was only a few feet from him and was looking directly at him, I could not see what it was that he had found. "I think that will be all for the moment,” he said, rising and pull ing the cord to extinguish the light. Coming out into the hallway, he closed the vault door by carefully grasping the shank of the knob. Then he moved swiftly down the passageway, stepped through the door to the garden, and went direct ly to the dead man. Though his back was turned to me as he bent over the figure, I could see that he took the folded paper from his waistcoat pocket and opened it. He glanced repeatedly from the paper in his hand to the limp figure in the chair. At length he nodded his head emphatically, and rejoined me in the hallway. We descended the stairs to the apartment below. Just as we reached the lower hall, the front door opened and Cecil Kroon entered. He seemed surprised to find us in the hall, and asked somewhat vaguely, as he threw his hat on a bench: “Anything the matter?” Vance studied him sharply and made no answer; and Kroon went on: “I suppose the big race is over, damn it! Who won it—Equanimity?” Vance shook his head slowly, his eyes fixed on the other. “Azure Star won the race. I be lieve Equanimity came in fifth or sixth.” “And did Woody go in on him up to the hilt, as he threatened?” Vance nodded. “I’m afraid he did.” “Good Gad!” Kroon caught his breath. “That’s a blow for the chap. How’s he taking it?” He looked away from Vance as If he would rather not hear the answer. “He’s not taking it,” Vance re turned quietly. 'He’s dead.” “No!” Kroon sucked in his breath with a whistling sou-d. and his eyes slowly contracted. “So he shot him self, did he?” Vance’s eyebrows went up slight ly (TO BE CONTINUED) Early Counterfeit Money In the United States between 1880 and 1890, apparently thousands 01 small town “slickers” bought and passed counterfeit money, says a writer in Collier’s Weekly. One Reed Waddell, operating in New York, made $250,000 during this decade by selling “green goods’’ throughout the country at the rate oi $12 for Si. boldly advertising his currency to a preferred list through 1< tters, cir culars and even elaborate booklets I IODINE IS NEEDED BY EARLY CHICKS Common Feeds May Not Have Proper Amount. Iodine is necessary for chicks, but is needed only in very small amounts, according to a writer in the Wisconsin Agriculturist. Com mon feeds such as oyster shell, grains, etc., will usually supply all of the iodine that the chicks need but as a precaution it is desirable to add very small amounts to the ration. This can be done easily by using an iodized stock salt. Certain sea weeds and some of the fish meal preparations are quite abundantly supplied with iodine but repeated trials have not shown any advantage for these materials. Ordinary mix tures apparently contain all the io dine that chicks need so it is not necessary to bring in the high priced products that are rich in iodine nor is it necessary to put iodine tablets in the drinking water. For many years leg weakness, or rickets, has been the most serious difficulty in raising chicks. The ad dition of mineral feeds such as lime stone grit and raw bone grits in creases the amount of bone building minerals so that early chicks can be grown for the first few weeks without sunshine or any other source of vitamin D, but no mineral combination has as yet been dis covered that makes it possible to raise normal inside chicks unless vitamin D is added. Three genera tions of inside chicks were raised without difficulty when vitamin D was added to the ration fortified with mineral in the form of lime stone grit and raw bone. How the Feed Produces Different Meat Quality Each of the basic cereals—corn, wheat, oats, and barley — if fed alone, produces a different qual ity in the meat of poultry, says a writer in the Montreal Herald. Such differences are due to the way in which the fat is produced in the different parts of the body. An even distribution of fat throughout the body, flesh and skin, is essential tc high quality. The mixed cereals, plus milk, produce a high quality meat on an economical basis. The character and amount of the rations fed will largely influence the gains in live weight. The amount of protein in the ration does not necessarily indicate the value in possible live weight gains to be made. Neither does the amount of fat in the average fattening ration supply all the fat produced on the bird fed. It is common knowledge that the large deposits of fat which occur in the animal body must owe their formation, in a large part, to other constituents of the feed than the fat content. In many finishing rations the low fat content cannot account for the high percentage of fat in the finished carcass. Recent biochemical work has shown that certain of the decomposition prod ucts of carbohydrates may be uti lized in this synthesis of fat. The carbohydrate of the ration, in ex cess of that usecl for immediate heat and energy, is converted to fat and stored in deposits for later utilization. Watch Drafts Rains and cooler nights make it necessary that the farm poultryman take particular precautions to avoid drafts in pullet and laying houses. If the birds come Into the house wet and are crowded, drafts are practically sure to result in fall colds and roup. Mature birds should have one foot of roost space per bird and pullets should have pro portionate space as they mature. Green feed is essential in prevent ing colds and it can be used lib erally. Removal of low vitality birds will decrease the danger of disease and colds throughout the winter, since the weaker pullets take cold more easily and become a constant source of infection. — Prairie Farmer. Color of the Eggshell Early in 1900 a New York experi ment station, after a careful analysis, failed to uphold the tradi tion that the eggshell indicated or | made any difference in egg quality. I However, though the color of the j hen’s egg only designates the brted of chicken, it ;s true that eggs have been found to vary slightly in nutri- j tive value. This variation comes not J from the color of the shell, but be- | cause of feed. Eggs of the same breed of chicken will vary as much, if not more, than those from dif ferent breeds. Counting the Chickens The first national chicken census is now in progress, the Department of Agriculture doing the counting. It is believed that there are 400,000, 000 hens on our more than 6,000,000 American farms and that the aver age hen lays ninety eggs a year, i Doubtless there are a lot of lazy hens that bring the average down. Knowing more about our chicken population, before and after they are hatched, will be of value, says j the Country Home Magazine. Showing Three New Styles yOU who sew-your-own will be * more enthusiastic than ever after making realities of these three new styles. Each is truly a delightful fashion and best of all there’s something for every size in the family—from the “little bear" right on up. Pattern 1997 is the smartly styled smock that probably has an option on a little portion of your heart right now. Fair enough, follow the dictates of your heart and you can’t go wrong. This little wardrobe nicety will serve you becomingly and well. It will add to your comfort too. Make it of broadcloth, gingham, sateen or chintz for prettiness and easy maintenance. There is a choice of long or short sleeves and the shiny gold buttons offer just the sort of spicy contrast one likes in informal apparel. Available for sizes 32, 34, 36, 38, 40, 42 and 44. Size 34 requires 3’A yards of 39 inch material. Pattern 1204—This new day frock for sizes 36 to 52 is the ORANGE PECAN WAFFLES Mrt. W. D. Cook, Atlanta, Oa. Sift together lVi cups flour, % tsp. salt, 1 tbsp. sugar, and 4 tsps. bak ing powder. Combine 4 tbsps. melted Jewel Special-Blend Short ening, 3 eggs slightly beaten, 1 cup milk and 1 tbsp. orange marma lade. Add, all at once, to dry in gredients and stii until smooth. Last, add % cup pecans, finely chopped. Put mixture, about 3 tbsps. at a time, on a hot waffle iron and cook until done. Serve with Orange Fluff. Orange Fluff.—Beat Vi pint of cream till firm then stir in 1 tbsp. of sugar and 1 of orange marma lade.—Adv. Anal word in style and charm hi any woman's language. To don this flattering fashion is to step blithely into the realm of high fashion. The soft feminine collar is most becoming and it serves as an excellent medium for con trast. The sleeve length is op tional. Slender lines are the main feature of the skirt and a very pleasant effect results from ths wide and handsome flare. Satin or sheer wool would most assured ly win your friends’ approval and perhaps just a little of their envy. This pattern is designed for sizes 36, 38, 40, 42 , 44, 46, 48, 50 and 52. Size 38 requires 4% yards of 39 inch material. Less with short sleeves. The collar in contrast requires % yard. The adorable little number for Miss Two-To-Eight, Pattern 1994, is surely without competition in the way of downright intrigue. Why not do things up right and cut this model twice—panties too, nat urally-using sheer wool for the "best” occasion frock and gingham or seersucker for school, play and all-purpose use? Pattern 1994 is available in sizes 2, 4, 6 and 8 years. Size 4 requires 2% yards of 39 inch material plus % yard of bias binding for trimming. Send for the Barbara Bell Fall and Winter Pattern Book contain ing 100 well-planned, easy-to-mako patterns. Exclusive fashions for children, young women, and ma trons. Send fifteen cents in coins for your copy. Send your order to The Sewing Circle Pattern Dept., 367 W. Adams St., Chicago, 111. Price of patterns, 15 cents (in coins) each. © Bell Syndicate.—WNU Serrice. "™nA LV DEN'S MINTHOL COUGH DROPS HiLP BALANCI YOUR ALKALINE RESERVE WHIN YOU HAVI A COIPI BUNDLE CARRIER Br GLUYAS WILLIAMS GOR SHOPPING wtR MOTHER WSfcfe OKI CARRV1K6 YHE BuWPlCS fbR HER WOfHER.WKH A SI6H,M UNClOISHtS 1HEM BUf feus HIM NOf fO IA& ORfHEVU MISSIVE BUS DOE& UDN WEU UHtH. HC fRltt <0 KEP HW ER£»M BIO WINS OFT picks up hm and bundus AMD HURRIES fO CAtCH UP FlfUJS THW &ONDIES AtJ0 5P£EP DON^MIX. SHOUTS io MOTHER lb WAif MtrfHER WArfc Af COR NER. SfORS, 5Ef5 EI^RV ■IHIN6 DOWN, AND KNEEtf, ibtiE SMOE-SfRjNd CAfCHES UP AT LASf AND DISCOVERS ONE BUNDLE HA5 BEEN Llff BEHIND. | (Copyright. IK*,, by Tht 1«II BjnA^U, lac ) |
