The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965, December 26, 1940, Image 3

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    CHAPTER XVII—Continued.
—18—
Annie returned and announced
Senator Groesbeck.
“Alone?" Miss Agatha asked and
the wistfulness in her voice hurt
me. "Then I’ll see him in the liv
ing room, Annie.”
The maid pushed the wheel chair
down the hall. I sat at the desk and
strove to set down on paper, after
Miss Agatha’s prescription, my own
outline of the Morello mystery. I
found it hard, for each item bore In
numerable streamers of surmise
and suspicion. I do not know how
long Allegra had been standing in
the doorway when I looked up.
I rose clumsily. She was still
pale but she seemed more tired now
than angry. There was a droop to
her shoulders and I cursed myself
for feeling pitiful. She said at last:
“You make it just as hard as pos
sible. don’t you?”
A few hours earlier she had point
ed out the abyss that lay between
her and me. I had sworn then nev
er to strive to rebridge it. Sense
still assured me that it was best tor
her to remain on her side and I on
mine. Hunger for her, desire to
aid her were checked by memory of
my recent, adolescent idiocy. It
hurts to have even a silly dream
kicked apart. I said:
“I beg your pardon.”
“You heard me.”
I made no reply. She went on,
like a child reciting a lesson:
“If I’ve misjudged you, I’m sor
ry.”
“Miss Paget,” I told her, “I mis
judged you—and am even sorrier."
”1 came in here,” she told me, “to
apologize because Agatha thought I
should.”
She might have been talking to
the butler. There was no call for
her to put me in my place. 1 was
there already and had sworn not to
leave it again. I said:
“That seems to me about the
worst reason in the world.”
Again she apparently hoped for
something in my face that was not
there. She muttered:
“You make it very hard.”
She was just a kid after all. Which
Was still another reason why things
should stay as they were. So 1
said:
“You said that before — which
leaves us just where we started.”
“Do you want to leave it there?”
she asked directly, and I forced my
self to answer:
“Why not?”
There was a stir in the hall and
the sound of voices. I did not know
whether I was relieved or desolate
when she left. Senator Groesbeck,
now sleek and pompous, passed the
doorway. Miss Agatha trundled her
self into the room.
“What was Allegra doing in here?”
she asked.
“Apologizing,” I said.
She gave me one of the looks that
made me feel she was counting my
vertebrae and then said, “Hah!” in
an odd tone. Thereafter, her mind
dwelt on other matters.
“I wish,” she complained, “that
I hadn’t so respectable an attorney.
I need a scoundrel who’ll help an
idiot who won’t help himself.”
“As bad as that?” I asked.
She nodded and lighted a ciga
rette.
“Grove,” she said, “is being held
as a material witness. He still won’t
talk, so they’re going to take him
before the grand jury presently. If
he doesn’t talk then, he’ll be in
dicted.”
Her brisk voice was armor that,
I know, hid great distress. She
brooded a minute, while I groped for
words and then asked:
“Where’s the typewriter?”
“You said,” I told her, “that it
was in the storeroom.”
“Why didn’t you get it?”
“Miss Agatha,” I asked, “can you
imagine Higgins letting me rum
mage through a basement storeroom
without a writ of mandamus, a ha
beas corpus and a strong-arm
squad?”
The lines of worry in her face
slackened and she chuckled.
“No,” she admitted. “I’m an old
fool, David, but just the least bit
bedeviled today. We'll go down to
gether.
I trundled her into the hall and
rang for the elevator. She said noth
ing till the car appeared, but the
grim lines had deepened again on
her face and I knew she was eating
her heart out for her nephew. Hoyt
took us down. I could see his ears
pricked for tidings, but we did not
speak. I had propelled Miss Agatha
into the basement hall. A wan light
burned there and the air was heavy
with the familiar smell of lime and
coal gas and cabbage for the Hig
gins' dinners, past and present.
Miss Agatha dug in her handbag
and chose a key from a ring.
Along one side of the basement
hall was a series of iron doors, with
gaps at lintel and threshold for ven
tilation. They guarded the cubbies
that served as attics for tenants of
the Morello. It was against one of
these that I had reeled during my
dark struggle with the intruder. I
thought, as I fumbled with the lock,
how brief a space by actual meas
urement, yet how long ago, that had
been. Perhaps if I had been less
clumsy that night, I might have end
ed the mystery. I might have saved
innocent folk much danger and dis
tress. The smell and gloom of the
basement allied themselves with
memory to tighten mv nerves so that
I flinched when Miss Agatha said
impatiently:
“Can’t you do it?”
She rolled forward to take the
key. It turned as she moved and
I pulled the door open before her
advancing chair.
“There it is,” Miss Agatha said,
"over—”
Her voice died. The harsh sound
of her indrawn breath set my neck
to prickling. The light of the ceil
ing bulb poured into the maw of the
storeroom. It shone upon something
at Miss Agatha's feet at which she
stared, at which I gaped, first stu
pidly, then in frantic disbelief. I
bent forward.
“Careful.” Miss Agatha warned in
a dry whisper. “Don’t touch it”
CHAPTER XVIII
Wind boomed in the elevator shaft
and I heard the whine and catch of
a car shifting gears in the street.
The rest of my mind had stalled un
der its sudden load. Close to my
ear Miss Agatha’s breath came and
went quickly. So we remained for
a palsied instant, watching the ob
ject on the storeroom floor.
It lay just within the ventilation
space at the iron door’s base—a bi
zarre item for a spinster’s store
room, yet, in itself, nothing to wake
dread. It was a knife with a black
leather handle and a worn gray
blade, streaked with what might
“I came in here,” she told me,
“to apologize.”
have been rust We both knew
whence it had come.
It was the knife that had hung in
the sheath they had found on Black
beard’s murdered body. It had been
driven into its owner’s heart. It
had uttered the flat sound of smit
ten metal when it had fallen dur
ing my struggle in the basement, to
lodge inside the door of the Paget
storeroom.
I bent over it again. Miss Aga
tha made no further protest as I
picked it up by its point, swathed it
loosely in my handkerchief, and
rose. Her eyes met mine and asked
a question. I feared to answer. I
heard myself say:
“We had better go upstairs.”
She nodded. I placed the hand
Kerchief-wrapped knife in her lap
and trundled her to the elevator
shaft. We were silent on our up
ward journey. In the work-room, I
picked up the muffled weapon care
fully and laid it on the desk. Then
I faced Miss Agatha.
It was hard to ask the question.
The knife had killed; it might kill
again. It was the link between the
murdered and the murderer. My
voice was hoarse:
“What shall we do, now?”
She blinked. Her speech was calm
as her face:
‘‘I think we had better telephone
Captain Shannon.”
I said:
“There may be no one’s finger
prints on that knife. There may be
—anybody’s.”
I could not speak her nephew’s
name, but she understood.
“Call Captain Shannon,” she said,
and there was a lump in my throat
as I obeyed. 1 spoke only briefly,
asking the Homicide Bureau chief
to come at once with a fingerprint
man; then hung up on his further
questioning. The receiver clattered
as my shaking hand restored it.
Miss Agatha said:
“We both need a drink,” and rang
for Annie.
I nursed the liquor I would willing
ly have gulped. Miss Agatha sipped
hers and at last spoke part of her
thought aloud:
"This was what you heard fall,
that night in the basement, but how
—why—I don’t see—”
Her voice ran down. I said fee
bly:
“Unless it is a maniac—”
Uncertainty left her. She gave a
crooked smile.
“Who had designs on Higgins?”
she scoffed. “David, Lyon Ferri
ter is no maniac. He is amazingly
clever. I told you that this morn
ing.”
“But Lyon,” I pointed out, “was
in your flat when—”
She did not let me finish.
“I know, I know,” she said. “But
he did it. He killed the visitor to his
flat. 1 object less to that, David,
than to the knowledge tt.U he is
laughing at us now. 1 never have
liked to be laughed at It’s been my
legs, I suppose. Heavens, our as
sembled brains should be as good as
his. If only we could And a flaw,
a weakness.”
She drank again and then went
on:
’ Everything radiates from Lyon
Ferriter, but none of it reaches back
to him."
A thought pricked me and some
of the jumble ol fact fell into co
herent pattern.
“That’s why,” I blurted, “Lyon
tried to kill me; that's why my
room was searched. He thought I
had found that knife. His own fin
gerprints must be on it"
“They won’t be,” Miss Agatha
promised grimly. We were still for
a moment. Then she said:
“Day after tomorrow is Grove’s
birthday.”
Her voice was so bare of senti
ment that it was piteous. The day
when Grove attained his inheritance,
the day toward which, all his life,
she had steered her foster son,
would find him in disgrace and dan
ger, unless—
I jumped at the telephone’s ring.
Could Shannon have arrived so
soon?
“Answer it,” Miss Agatha bade
and her voice quavered a little.
I obeyed and was ashamed of my
own agitation.
Jerry Cochrane drawled:
“Dave, I want to see you. I’ve
got hold of something a bit interest
ing, my laddie. Where can you meet
me?” '
He slipped away from further
questions. It was too important to
discuss over the house telephone,
he said, and for like reason I fore
bore to tell what we had found. At
last I clapped my hand over the
mouthpiece and said to Miss Aga
tha:
“It’s Cochrane. He sounds so
sleepy, I know he’s excited. May
he come here?"
At once she refused and then, to
my amazement, gave way before
my arguments. I pleaded that it
might be important before Shannon
came, to learn what Cochrane had
discovered. I said we needed the
alliance of Jerry’s quick mind. Miss
Agatha consented at last:
"Have him come, David. You’re
very stubborn and I—I imagine I’m
getting old.”
I bade Cochrane hasten and hung
up as Miss Agatha said:
“Allegra, my dear, will you tell
the hall force that Mr. Cochrane is
to be admitted?”
The fur collar of the girl’s cloak
softened her face and the February
wind had lent it color. Her aunt
told her dryly and briefly of our
discovery. Allegra glanced past me
at the swathed weapon on the desk.
Then a thought startled her.
“Agatha. You've sent for the po
lice. And no one knows whose fin
gerprints may be on that knife.
Even—”
“Even Grove’s,” her aunt com
pleted in a level voice. “Yes. my
dear. I’m not a Roman matron, but
I have a respect for law. If they
are there—”
Allegra had stepped quickly to
ward the desk. I knew her pur
pose and moved between her and
the knife.
“They aren’t your brother’s,” I
told her. “He was here when that
knife was lost.”
Anger lighted her eyes but her
face went white.
“If you think,” she said in a taut
voice, “I'm going to let my brother’s
life be juggled about because a spy
has hoodwinked an old woman—”
Miss Agatha's quiet speech stilled
her.
“I’m not too old, Allegra,” she
said, “to be obeyed in my own
house. Will you tell the hall force
to admit Mr. Cochrane, or shall I?”
I saw what was coming. The girl's
face seemed to break apart into
quivering fragments. Her voice
shook with ghastly mirth.
“I won’t. It can’t be happening.
It’s a funny, hideous—”
I said sharply.
“Get hold of yourself. You aren’t
lone Paget.”
She looked at me like someone
just waked. Then she drew a deep
unsteady breath and went to the
telephone to do her aunt’s bidding.
Thereafter, she turned and looked
at me again.
“Thank you,” she said. "That’s
the first time—”
“Forget it,” I told her.
She drew up a chair beside Miss
Agatha. Their hands joined. The
girl bent over and kissed the still
old face. So we waited for Shannon
while the crumpled mound of hand
kerchief on the desk kept us still.
It was Cochrane who arrived first.
His chubby face, his mild prosaic
air loosened the atmosphere. He
bowed and acknowledged Miss Aga
tha’s introduction to her niece so
easily that I think the girl was partly
reassured. Then he beamed at me.
“This is in confidence,” he said,
including the whole room in his
smile. “This, my lad, is banner-line
stuff, if we can get to use it. Did
you see the Sphere this morning,
any of you?”
I shook my head. I felt the sting
in Allegra's voice as she answered:
“We read the Press.”
/TO HE CONTINUED)
NEW YEAR PARTIES MUST HAVE PLENTY OF ZIP
(See Recipes Below)
Household News
B) /^mnar'
th>. /iW.
Celebrating the advent of a new
year is excuse enough for a party
in any crowd. Whether it’s young
sters or the "oldsters” that gather
to see the old year out, the new
year in, the party must have plenty
of novelty and "get-up-and-go”—
new games, new
music, new re
freshments, too, A
and something to S
drink is a re-<^
quirementl ‘j
Drink a toast I
to the new year l
with a piping hot }
punch; while the ^
winds of winter
howl and fling sheets of snow against
the windows, a hot, tangy drink will
cheer your guests (both young and
old!) and it starts them on the
homeward trip warmed from within.
“Hawaiian Hot Cup” is a drink
that is new as the brand new year.
Serve it steaming hot in small cups,
with crisp crackers and wedges of
cheese to accompany it.
Hot Spiced Cider and Holiday
Mulled Grape Juice, served with
Ginger Cookies or Doughnuts, make
simple and satisfying refreshments
for a crowd, and crisp, buttery pop
corn or salted nuts are good to nib
ble on while the entertainment is
under way.
If you’d like to start the evening
with a buffet meal, here’s a menu
you and your guests will like.
Tuna Curry on Chinese Noodles
Mixed Salad With French Dressing
Hot French or Italian Bread
Orange Ginger Bread
With Whipped Cream
Coffee
Tuna Curry.
(Serves 10 to 12)
6 tablespoons butter
M cup flour
1 teaspoon curry powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 quart milk
3 cups tuna (coarsely flaked)
cup mushrooms
Mushroom liquor
6 hard cooked eggs (sliced)
Melt butter, add flour and season
ings, and stir until smooth. Add
milk gradually and cook, stirring
constantly, until sauce is smooth
and thick. Add remaining ingredi
ents. Serve hot on Chinese noodles,
and if desired, sprinkle with shred
ded, salted almonds.
Orange Gingerbread.
(Serves 15)
% cup shortening
1 cup sugar
4 teaspoons orange rind (grated)
2 eggs (beaten)
3 Vt cups flour
1 teaspoon soda
2Vi teaspoons baking powder
Vi teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
2 teaspoons ginger
1 teaspoon nutmeg
1 cup molasses
1 cup sour milk
Cream shortening and add sugar
gradually. Add orange rind, and
beaten eggs Mix well. Sift to
gether the flour, soda, baking pow
der, salt and spices. Add to first
mixture alternately with milk and
molasses. Place batter in 2 greased
8-inch square pans and bake in a
Have You Made Your New
Year’s Resolutions?
I hope that in your list of reso
lutions for the new year, there
are a few concerning good food
and interesting meals. For in
stance, why not resolve to serve
a home-made hot bread once a
week? And resolve to keep the
family cookie jar filled to the
brim? And resolve to try at least
one new cake or pie a week?
To make it easy, and to keep
y»ur own interest alive, send for
my cook book “Better Baking."
You’ll find it’s fun to try the
recipes for Mountain Muffins,
Honey Drop Biscuits, Hot Cinna
mon Rolls, and Boston Brown
Bread. And the family will bless
you when you serve them Lemon
Sunnj Silver Pie!
To get the cook book, just send
10 cents in coin to “Better Bak
ing,” care of Eleanor Howe, 919
North Michigan Avenue, Chicago,
Illinois.
moderate oven (350 degrees) for 35
to 40 minutes.
Mixed Salad.
(Serves 10 to 12)
1 large head lettuce
2 cups carrots (shredded)
3 cups red skinned apples (diced)
2 cups red grapes (halved and
seeded)
3 tablespoons onion (minced)
French dressing
Separate leaves of lettuce, wash
and dry thoroughly. Tear into
pieces. Place in large salad bowl
with carrots, apples, grapes and on
ion. Add French dressing and mix
very lightly, using forks for the
mixing.
French Dressing.
(Makes 1% cups)
V4 clove garlic (grated)
4 lumps sugar
1 tablespoon salt
1 tablespoon paprika
1 cup salad oil
V4 cup lemon juice or vinegar
Grate garlic on lump sugar. Com
bine with remaining ingredients,
pour into fruit jar, and shake until
well blended.
Hot Spiced Cider.
(Serves 20 to 25)
1 gallon cider
2 cups brown sug
ar
3 sticks cinnamon
12 whole cloves i
2 teaspoons all-1
spice berries '
Combine ingre
dients in sauce
pan. Simmer for
10 to 15 minutes.
Strain and serve hot in small cups.
Holiday Mulled Grape Juice.
(Serves 10 to 12)
5Mt cups grape juice
2(6 cups water
Va cup sugar
Va teaspoon salt
12 whole cloves
2 sticks cinnamon
Vi teaspoon orange rind (grated)
Vi teaspoon lemon rind (grated)
Combine ingredients in sauce pan
Bring slowly to a boil. Strain. Serve
hot.
Hawaiian Hot Cup.
(Serves 10 to 12)
2 cups kumquats
(sliced)
1 1 cup sugar
1 5 cups canned un
sweetened Ha
waiian pineap
ple juice
4 tablespoons of
lime juice
2 tablespoons of
lemon juice
Place sliced kumquats in bowl
and mix well with the sugar. Let
stand for 1 hour. Heat pineapple
juice piping hot but do not boil.
Pour over sugar and kumquats and
stir until sugar is dissolved. Add
lime and lemon juice, and serve at
once.
(Released by Western Newspaper Union.)
HOUSEHOLD HINTS
When cooking oatmeal, commeal,
rice or anything likely to stick to
the pan, just before serving remove
frapi the fire, cover tightly and let
stand five minutes. The steam will
loosen the mixture from the bottom
and the pan will be easy to wash.
• * •
Try peanut butter frosting for cov
ering white or spies cakes. Add
one-third of a cup of peanut butter
to your regular uncooked white
frosting. Blend In the peanut but
ter well before icing the cake. Dec
orated with a few roasted peanut*.
» * *
Pineapples may be used for hold
ing salads or dessert*. Use pine
apples of uniform size. Cut them
in halves lengthwise and using a
fork, scrape out the pulp. (It may
be used later.) Wash and chill the
cases. Stuff them with fruit, melon
balls or berries.
• • #
Try making edible place cards for
children’s parties. A simple one
may be made by cutting out cards
of cooking dough 1 by 2 inches in
size. Bake them carefully and then
write the name of each guest on
his card with thin icing squeezed
through a pastry tube.
—
By VIRGINIA VALE
(Rrleasrd toy Western Newspaper Union.I
Remember that beloved
book of your childhood
days, “Litt^p Men,” by Louisa
May Alcott? Well, imagine
what it might be like with the
addition of two new charac
ters, to wit, Major Burdle, a
fast-talking, amiable swin
dler who sacrifices every
thing for the love of his
adopted son, and Willie the
Fox, “a lovable, amusing
•living corpse’.” according to infor
mation from RKO. When you’ve fin
ished this little picture puzzle, go to
see the picture.
It's been turned out as adult en
tertainment, yet it’s still a story for
young folks. Kay Francis, George
Bancroft and Jack Oakie head the
cast, which includes Jimmy Lyfon,
Richard Nichols, Sammy McKim
and Elsie, the glamour cow.
-*
Ruth Hussey’s work in Metro’s
•‘Flight Command," with Robert
Taylor, and in “The
Philadelphia Story,”
with Katharine Hep
burn, James Stew
art and Cary Grant,
have won her a new
long-term contract.
Incidentally, "Phil
adelphia Story” is
the picture that
Cary Grant made
for the Red Cross—
he accepted the as
Ruth Hussey sigrinnent with the
idea of turning over
his salary to them—$125,000.
-*
Bitter words were said in Holly
wood recently when various produc
ers needed stunt women and found
that 14 of the best had been cor
ralled by Paramount for "Las Vegas
Nights," which already had Phil Re
gan, Lillian Cornell and Tommy
Dorsey and his band.
The maddening part of it was that
the daring demoiselles weren’t
scheduled to do stunts, Just to dance
with cowboys and drink cold tea,
that would screen as Scotch and
soda.
-*
Carole Landis is beginning to think
there’s something about her that
makes scenario __
writers want to see
•how near they can
come to killing her
In her last three
pictures she has
been (1) chased by
a prehistoric mam
moth, <2) scheduled
to climb a flagpole
on top of a sky
scraper, and (3) re
quested to get
chummy with a Carole Landls
cage-full of lions.
In her newest one, "Topper Re
turns,” she is the target for a fall
ing 250-pound chandelier. Plenty of
precautions were taken when it was
shot—after all, there’s just one
Carole Landis. Then, too, the chan
delier cost $800. A retake was just
out of the question.
-*
Bing Crosby's brother Bob, well
known on the radio, makes his
movie debut in "Let's Make Music,”
which, oddly enough, is a musical
comedy. There are four musical
numbers that may turn into hit
songs, and Jean Rogers, Elizabeth
Risdon and Joyce Compton are in
the cast.
-*
If you know of a waltz that Wayne
King doesn’t know you're one in a
million. Fourteen years ago he
started his library of waltz music;
then he became known as “The
Waltz King,” and the demand for
waltz music began to exceed the
supply on hand. Since then he’s
been collecting what has grown into
probably the largest library of waltz
music in the country. His re
search staff includes three men in
Chicago; two in New York; and one
in South America.
-*
The Pittsburgh Symphony men
were rather startled when they
learned that they were to play "Mel
ancholy Baby” on that recent Mu
sical Americana program. By the
way, the song was written by Ed
Burnett back in 1910 when he was
waiting for his sweetheart to arrive
on a train that was 18 hours late.
And "If 1 Forget You,” which Helen
Jepson sang on that same pro
gram, was inspired by an editorial
in the New York Times; Irving
Caesar saw the editorial, which be
gan with a quotation from the
Psalms—"If I forget thee, O Jeru
salem, let my right hand forget its
cunning—”—and wrote the song.
-*
ODDS AND ENDS—The University
of California has engaged Rudy Vallee
for a series of lectures before the radio
class—he'll give practical advice on
broadcasting and radio showmanship
. . . Kenny Raker has flown back and
forth across the country so often, us
ually at night, that he declares he’s
travelled more and seen less than any
body else . . . Mary Martin would like
to leave that air show so that she can
concentrate on motion picture work
. . . Rill Stern, director of “Sports
Newsreel of the Air,” has been offered
a lecturing post in a radio announc
ing course, by u prominent university.
He’ll accept if he can find time.
New Year Begins
More Than Once,
Believe It or Not!
New Year's day isn’t always New
Year’s day. The actual date varies
among the Egyptians, Chinese, Jews,
Romans and Mohammedans from
September 6 to March 1.
January 1 was designated to be
New Year’s day when Julius Caesar
established the Julian calendar in
40 B. C. However, the calendar
year thus established was 11 min
utes longer than the astronomical
year.
To correct this discrepancy. Pope
Gregory III suppressed 10 days in
1852 by ordering that Cctober 5 be
called October 15. England and its
colonies, however, did not adopt this
new calendar until 1752. For almost
three centuries, therefore. New
Year’s was celebrated twice every
year—both times on January 1.
New Year’s never fell on the same
day two years in succession in old
China. The new year began on the
first moon after the sun entered the
sign Aquarius. This date varied
from January 21 to February 18.
Jewish New Year’s, when translated
into dates of the Gregorian calendar,
varies from September 0 to Octo
ber 4.
Mohammedans celebrated Muhar
ram, or New Year’s, on February
10 last year. But it wasn’t the be
ginning of 1940 for them; it was the
first day of 1359. Because the Mo
hammedan calendar is arranged dif
ferently from ours, the new year
does not always fall on the same
date according to the calendar in
use by the Christian nations.
Happy New Year! When will YOU
celebrate?