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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 9, 1941)
CHAPTER XIX—Continued. —20— When A1 had left for his post, the Captain ceased to fight us and took charge. Once in, he was game. He spent the next fifteen minutes set ting the stage, mentally and physi cally, for Lyon's entrance. The door bell's shrill cut him off midway in his final instructions. We heard Annie come down the hall. Shannon sat behind the desk. Allegra looked out at the sunlight that crept up the area’s wall and locked her hands tight in her lap to check their trembling. Cochrane stared at nothing with a half smile and lighted a cigarette. “Please,” said Miss Agatha and he started and offered her one. She lighted it steadily as Lyon Ferriter entered. He checked himself just over the threshold as though our plan were an invisible wall and I felt that his lank body grew tense. In the win try light, his face looked paler and thinner but it was as controlled as his voice. “I’m sorry to break in on a—con ference, but the hallman said you wished to see me, Miss Paget.” His eyes questioned each of us. He must have read danger in our si lence for he looked at me last and longest. Miss Agatha said, quite tran quilly: “Two calls in a day may be an imposition, Mr. Ferriter, but when 1 heard you were here, I thought it best that you come in.” “A pleasure,” he said, with a lit tle bow, but now he watched Shan non. “I was just getting some things my sister needs.” The silence stretched each second. Shannon asked: “And your sister, Mr. Ferriter. How is she?” “Ill,” Lyon replied. “Quite ill.” Again, the pause was hard to bear. Shannon cleared his throat. “Mr. Ferriter, I’ve found out who killed your visitor.” Lyon might have been bronze. At last, he said: “In the first place I’m not aware that he was my visitor. In the sec ond place, if this is to be a police questioning, I must ask permission to call my lawyer.” "Sure,” Shannon said and shoved the desk phone toward him. “Tell him to meet us at the Babylon and that I’m on my way up to arrest lone Ferriter.” That name caught Lyon half-way across the floor and stopped him. He stared at Shannon, glanced at me and then smiled. “lone?” he asked lightly. "Arrest her?” “Arrest her,” Shannon repeated. “For murder. I’m sorry to break it to you so sharply, Mr. Ferriter—” He made no further movement to ward the telephone, but stood, look ing hard at the policeman. “What rott” The Captain pushed back his chair. "No,” he said. “Shall we go on up?” “Surely,” Lyon began and then his bluff broke. “You mustn’t. She’s ill, I tell you. You can’t possibly think she had anything—” The pain in his voice rang true. Shannon cut him off. “I better give you the usual warn ing about whatever you say being used against you. I’m not sure whether you’re accessory or not.” He paused. I was watching Ly on’s hands. They hung at his sides, rigidly still. Shannon went on and I admired the confidence in his voice. “She knifed this guy—for reasons of her own. Then she came out into the hall yonder and hollered.” “I see,” said Lyon. “And swal lowed the knife.” “Listen,” Shannon answered, “if I wasn’t so certain I’d not be telling you. The next night after the mur der, this Mallory here bumped into her in the basement hallway. In the dark.” Lyon’s eyes touched mine for a split second. Then they returned to Shannon. I saw his hands clench and instantly hang lax again. His voice was amused. “I see. He recognized her in the dark. Shannon shook his head, im mune to irony. “No. He knew it was a woman, that’s all. But a taxi driver saw her come out of the basement. She got into his cab. Here’s his affidavit. Care to read it?” He offered the paper Cochrane had set down at his dictation. Lyon half reached for it, drew back and shook his head. “I’m not interested,” he said care fully. “It’s a mistake. My sister was at the Babylon all that eve ning." “I don’t know now,” Shannon went on, with narrowed eyes, “whether you really think so or not. Ferri ter, she wasn’t. She called at Mr. Mallory’s boarding house. ' Mrs. Shaw, the landlady, identifies her, too. Right after that struggle in the basement, she went to see him.” “All of which,” Lyon began and coughed. I jerked. For an instant, I thought I heard in his voice a trace of that foreign speech that had come to me twice before. It was not there when he resumed. “You overlook the fact that my sister has been cleared. One of the hallboys saw her come in just be fore—” I “He’s downstairs now,” Shannon said, "and he’s confessed. He never saw her at all. He said he did it because he didn’t want to get a lady into trouble. Your sister, lone, killed that man, whether it’s news to you or not. She then dropped the knife down the elevator shaft and screamed. Shall we get on up town?” This time he rose, but Lyon did not stir, and I saw the gloss of sweat on his leathery face. “I see,” he said with an ugly laugh. “A sort of social third de gree, eh? By all means. Captain. Let’s go uptown. I'd like to hear you tell that story in court.” Shannon's voice was more silky than I had thought it could be. “Now, Mr. Ferriter,” it purred, “I haven’t been asking you. I’ve been telling you.” Miss Agatha spoke, so quietly that I wondered whether Lyon felt the edge of her words. “I asked Captain Shannon to tell you what he knows, Mr. Ferriter. You were so considerate this morn ing that I believed you would rather be prepared, before—the arrest.” “There will be,” he replied with an ugly defiance, “no arrest. No “No. He knew it was a woman, that's all.’’ doubt lone, if it were she, could ex plain her presence in the base ment.” ‘‘She won’t need to,” Shannon said quietly, "because it has been proved. She went down there to get the knife that killed your visitor.” “Whose name,” Cochrane said dreamily, "was — just possibly — Horstman, eh?” Lyon could control his spare ex terior. He could not manage his heart. Color came into his face. “You see,” Shannon pressed on. "lone Ferriter dropped something in the basement that night.” He lifted the handkerchief from the knife upon the desk. The dis tant sound of traffic came into the still room. Lyon did not move, but ebbing color left his face a greenish gray. Shannon said: "Her fingerprints are on the handle. There’s blood on the blade,” and after another long moment in which Lyon never stirred, added: "We’ve got her, Ferriter. She killed him. As for her alibi—" He picked up the telephone and said: “Hoyt? Come up here.” Down in the Morello, I heard the shaft door clang. The moan of the elevator blew through the room like rising wind. Lyon said thickly: "lone had nothing to do with it.” He paused and then added: "I killed him." The thrill it should have brought was oddly missing. I looked at Lyon with vague disappointment. It should have been more dramatic than that. Miss Agatha said: "This is, of course, a rather be lated but chivalrous attempt to save your sister ..." The doorbell rang. Shannon called to Annie: “Tell him to wait.” Lyon said to the old lady as though there had been no interruption: "She is not my sister. She is my daughter. "I’ve wondered,” said Miss Aga tha at last, breaking the silence. The man went on and as emotion relaxed his pose, the guttural tone I had heard first over the telephone grew beneath his accustomed speech and at last dominated it. "This is my confession. You can write it down. Captain. The man that I killed had done my daughter much wrong. I thought him dead.” He paused. Cochrane asked: "In a blizzard, in Alaska?” That blind shot got Lyon, knock ing his reserve away, breaking, for an instant, his self-control. He gaped at his mild questioner and struggled for speech. Jerry drove his attack home, still gently: "With a bullet through his chest?” "Are you the devil?” Lyon blurted and the thick sound of his tortured voice seemed to shock him. He caught hold of himself, turned from Cochrane and said to Shannon, in his old easy manner: "Do you mind very much if we don’t go into that? I’d like to keep mv daughter out of trouble. That is the purpose of my confession. She married my cousin, and hers, Lyon Ferriter, and went to Alaska.” “Lyon—” Shannon repeated, and gaped. The lean man frowned. “If you please,” he objected and went on. “She married Lyon Ferri ter. He had been my partner in vaudeville. We are Bohemians by birth. I thought she would be hap py. She was not. Ferriter abused her. I followed them to Alaska. All that she had written me was true and more. He was making her pose as his sister, with all that im plied. Ferriter had got hold of the story of a lost gold strike, farther in. He and she and I went prospect ing for it. We found it—and lost Ferriter.” I thought of the bullet scars on the dead man and held my peace. The slayer of Lyon Ferriter went on: “I had gone there to take his wife, my daughter, away. He wore a beard and I grew one, that winter, after his death. We looked alike clean-shaven, and more so, bearded. We came back to the states—Lyon Ferriter and sister. ‘‘My brother, a student but a weakling, had changed his name during the war. He was no longer Emil Horstman, but Everett Ferri ter. Now, I was no longer Andreas Horstman but Lyon. I had enough for comfort. We were happy. I be lieved my daughter would make a good marriage when your nephew came of age.” He bowed precisely toward Miss Agatha as though he had compli mented her, and pursued: "Last Monday, my cousin, whom I thought dead, hailed me on the street. He had my arm before I saw him. There was nothing else to do. I brought him to my flat. There was no one in the hall and we walked upstairs. We talked a long while.” He paused and seemed to look back with critical eyes upon that interview. Shannon bent over his writing. I saw the quick rise and fall of Allegra’s breath and the hawk look on her aunt’s face. "Lyon was greedy,” Andreas Horstman said at last. “I offered him all the money. He wanted it— and lone. She was still his wife. I ordered him out at last. He re fused to go. Then I lost my temper. I called the police and he drew his knife and again I killed him. This time, permanently I think.” His face moved with a ghost of his whimsical smile. He shrugged and said: "The rest you have found out— how I hid the knife in the basement and how lone found her husband; how she went hack to the cellar, to save her father—and got the knife only to drop it when Mr. Mallory came upon her; how she lost her head and went to his room; how Everett and I both bungled our last effort to find it and Everett killed himself because he feared death too much to live longer. Outside of try ing to help the father she loves, my daughter had nothing to do with this—I tell you, not a thing.” Shannon started to speak but Cochrane’s query forestalled him. “All right,” he crooned, “you killed him. How did you get out after ward?” For an instant, Lyon did not seem to understand. Then an odd expression crossed his face. “Oh ho,” he exclaimed softly. "Something is still a mystery, eh? You know so much, I thought you had read it all. It was simple. Let me show you.” He took a step backward and glanced about the room. “Suppose the divan behind which Lyon’s body lay was there.” Our eyes followed the pointing fin ger. “The door,” said Horstman, turn ing toward it with a smile, “would then be here.” He leaped. It slammed behind him. Like its echo, we heard the front door close. I was quick but Shannon was quicker. He was at my elbow as I pulled the workroom portal open. He was past me and through the hall door before I reached it “Where?” he was barking at Hoyt, who stood in the open door way of the waiting car. Eddie gab bled. “Downstairs. On foot. He fell, I think. Shook the hull elevator. He—” “Al!” Shannon roared down the shaft. “Here," his aid replied from be low. “Stop him," shouted the Captain and plunged down the stairs. I jumped for the car. “Basement,” I muttered to Ed die, who jerked his lever. I was thinking too hard to hear his ques tions. The knife had been hidden in the basement. Somehow, the mur derer had left it there, unperceived, before. He might be taking that mysterious route thither again. Shannon beat us to the foyer. As we slid past its closed door, I could hear him yapping like a thwarted terrier. “He came down. And I followed him. If you’ve let him get by, I’ll—” I heard, once again, the voice— the real voice—of him we had known as Lyon Ferriter. It filled the shaft with a fearful sound, sud denly ended. The car lurched. (TO UK CONTINUED) New Silk Lingerie Fascinates With Its "Dressmaker Touch’ By CHERIE NICHOLAS EVERYONE should have a hobby. It is almost safe to say that the most alluring, the most all-prevail ing hobby among the fair sex is that of acquiring a wardrobe of lovely lacy soft and silken lingerie. Certain it is that women’s enthusiasm for pretty “undies,” negligees and other flattering boudoir apparel needs no urge. This is true of brides, debutantes, teen-age lassies, career women—In fact, everyone from girl to grand ma, no matter how tailored and tweedy her exterior. When it comes to comfort, relaxation and self ex pression of that innate love for the beautiful, it is in the touch and the wear of beguiling silken lingerie that most women feel the desires of their heart realized. One of the most interesting ges tures in modern lingerie styling is the dressmaker touch given to gowns and negligees. Many of them approach evening gowns in their technique and style. In fact, eve ning gown tactics are known to have been adopted to such an extent that in some instances frilled and lace laden, ribboned “nighties” have ac tually gone dancing with onlookers being none the wiser. If you have ever visited an American silk in dustry exhibit, you would have not ed that the emphasis on beguiling silken lingerie displayed in exquisite boudoir environs is more than im pressive. The fashion of giving dressmaker detail to boudoir apparel is happily stressed in the stunning twosome shown to the left in the illustration. It also answers to the call for black. Garments of black silk sheers pro fusely trimmed with fine black lace are featured throughout all lingerie collections of note. In this modish ensemble of gown and boudoir coat, the latter, as you will observe, is styled with a side drape finished off with a border of sheerest black lace. The gown underneath is also lace trimmed. To add to this twosome, designers suggest a third “black beauty” (not illustrated) lace-lav ished costume slip to wear under your newest black party dress of net, silk chiffon or lace. Centered in this group picture is a white silk satin nightgown with hand-sewn Alencon lace which yields to deep V-treatment with flattering shoulder bretelles of the same sump tuous lace. Its semi-princess lines resemble the manner of a party dress. A new trend to modesty in silk night robes is the adorable gown shown in the inset. This empire nightgown of heaven blue silk crepe reveals a marked tendency to ex ploit light blues in lingerie fashions. This model has a pleated bosonan oval neckline with a wide bordering of handsome lace about the hem line. The same lace repeated on the short waist achieves a quaint empire silhouette. Shades of the Gibson girl! Here it is in modernized version as shown In the camisole-and-pantie set to the right in the group. This combina tion garment of pinkish mauve silk satin is trimmed with Alencon lace dyed to match. The camisole zips up the front and would fill a Gibson girl with envy. Yod will enjoy a far happier, care free spring and summer if you as semble your lingerie wardrobe in the “do it now” spirit that will leave more time for the spring sewing pro gram just beyond. (Released by Western Newspaper Union.) Black Lace Magic By all means include a large and lovely chiffon kerchief with a three inch lace border in your collection of evening accessories. You will find it effective in many ways. Trailing gracefully from an embroidered pocket it adds infinite grace to your costume. Carry it in your hand nonchalantly or tuck it under your jeweled belt. These lovely lace chif fons designed by Burmel will add a decorative note to anyone’s ap pearance if she is versed in ker chief technique. Worn as pictured, over a prettily groomed evening coiffure, you will take on the loveli ness of a modern madonna. You can get these lace and chiffon whim sies in wicked black or angelic white. One of each would tune to every occasion. Decorative Veils Milliners are making a plaything of veils. They arrange them in whimsical fashion to add a spright ly touch to the hat It’s new to tie your veil under your chin in a but terfly bow. Then too, milliners de pend upon veils to give a gay color touch. Furs for Women Vary in Durability Probably no other article of wom en’s apparel is surrounded by quite the aura of mystery as are fur coats. Only an expert can tell any thing about the quality of furs. The best the average woman can do is to learn something of their wearing qualities and then select the type best suited to her needs. Among the most durable furs are classed beaver, fisher, mink, otter, and badger. Other pelts that wear very well are Alaskan seal, kolin sky. krimmer, marten, muskrat, Persian lamb, raccoon and skunk. If you are selecting furs to stand hard daily wear, you will find these most satisfactory. Less substantial, but not classed as actually fragile, are caracul, er mine, fox, leopard, lynx, marmot, nutria and opossum. These require constant care and should be sent to the furriers frequently for check ing. Fragile furs include sable, chin chilla, squirrel, mole, chipmunk and kidskin. — Winter Skiing Costumes Sold in Matching Colors The mix-and-match movement has invaded the field of ski clothes. This year, along with the regulation two piece costumes, you will find jack ets and trousers in contrasting and matching colors. The separate jackets are as trim ly tailored as are those of more con ventional suits and close with slide fasteners all the way up the front. They are reversible, with poplin, treated to be wind resistant, on one side and bright wool plaid on the other. Dress Has Ruffles A frock to be worn by a young girl at parties is one of pale pink net made with seven full ruffles on the skirt and tiny, very full, puffed sleeves. By VIRGINIA VALE (Released by Western Newspaper Union.) IF YOU lived within a ten mile radius of Priscilla Lane’s home you’d be more than likely to encounter her at one of the neighborhood movie houses in that vicinity, and to see her afterward but tonholing the manager. The ‘‘Four Mothers” star takes her movie-making very seriously, so she quizzes the men who make money by showing movies. “What do you think of that picture?” “Does it seem to be drawing?” "Do the PRISCILLA LANE fans here like that star?” That's the kind of thing Priscilla wants to know. When she's working she cov ers two or three pictures a week; other times she takes in four or five. -* Metro previewed "Flight Com mand” aboard an airplane in flight one evening recently; afterward Be dell Monroe, president of Pennsyl vania Central Airlines, predicted that pictures will be shown regularly on all commercial air lines within the next few years, as they are on ocean liners. Robert Taylor stars in "Flight Command,” a naval avia tion story. _* We’re to have ‘‘The Trial of Mary Dugan” again, with Robert Young in the leading male role. Remem ber it when Norma Shearer made it nine years ago? Laraine Day will play "Mary Dugan,” (You probably saw her in "Foreign Correspond ent.”) -jfc Edward J. Peters, chief engineer of Paramount’!: air conditioning de partment, has perfected a new type of ice. He calls it “snow ice," and because it lasts almost one-third longer than ordinary ice and re quires a third less time to produce, it may affect the commercial ice industry. It was developed because Director Charles Vidor was shooting a scene in "New York Town” (Fred Mac Murray, Mary Martin and Robert Preston co-starring); bright set lights striking ordinary transparent ice in water made the ice invisible to the camera. Vidor wanted the ice to show, to emphasize an im portant story point. Hence the new ice. _-J'_ Hollywood’s biggest variety show —A1 Pearce and His Gang—takes nine microphones to get their Fri day broadcasts on the CBS network. Carl Hoff’s orchestra alone takes three; Pearce has one, and the rest of the cast another. Billy Gould gets a sixth one for his sound effects, and Wendell Niles has a booth, equipped with a microphone, of course, for his closing commercial. There’s an audience applause mi crophone, so that toe who listen may know how much those who are pres ent are enjoying it, and when Bill Jordan and George Kent present their two-piano numbers the ninth mike is added to the engineer’s prob lems. Apparently quiz shows are as pop ular as ever with radio audiences— two new ones will take to the air shortly, over the CBS Pacific Net work. They’re "Don’t Be Personal” and "Talk Your Way Out of This One”—studio audiences will partici pate, and the winners will receive cash prizes. -* Girls who have ambitions to act on the screen or on the air might take a tip from Lurene Tuttle; she never misses a Helen Hayes broad cast, because she learns so much from Miss Hayes, and she studies Bette Davis’ work in pictures—she says that when she worked with Miss Davis, the star gave her many valu able suggestions on the technique of acting. Now Lurene's learning still more from working with John Barry more on the Vallee programs. -* ODDS AND ENDS C. "Here Comes the Navy," made by James Cagney and Pat O’Brien in 1934, is being re-issued by Warner Brothers. C. George Burns and Grade Allen have renewed the pledge they signed a year ago to support a certain number of youngsters at Boystown, Neb. C. Donald Crisp ends a six-month vaca tion with a role in "If inged Victory.” C. “Kitty Foyle" is the forty-second picture in which Ginger Rogers has been featured or ilarred. c. Guy Kibbee got the title role in “Scattergood Baines" at the request of the author. Lovely Frock for School or Parties 1269-B LJERE’S an unusually sweet *■ ■* princess frock for junior girls that you’ll want two ways for Sun day and everyday! This is the most becoming line in the world for petite figures. There are adroit gathers at the sides of the front panel to give a little round ness where roundness is needed, and the waist scoops in to beguil ing tininess, above the piquant flare of the skirt. In velveteen or taffeta, with a white silk pique collar, design No. 1269-B will be the prettiest kind of party frock. In flannel, spun rayon or corduroy it will be smart for classroom, all in one color or, as shown in the small sketch, with a wide splash of contrast down the front. I • I Barbara Bell Pattern No. 1269-B la de signed for sizes 11, 13, IS, 17 and 19. Cor responding bust measurements 29. 31, 33, 35 and 37. Size 13 (31) requires 4»t yards sf 39-inch material without nap: yard contrast for collar. Send order to: SEWING CIRCLE PATTERN DEPT. Room 1324 211 W. Warker Dr. Chicago Enclose 15 cents In coins for Pattern No. Size. Name .... Address . INDIGESTION may affect the Heart Gas trapped in the stomach or fuiiet may act like a hair-trigger on the heart. At the first aign of distress •mart men and women depend on Bell ana Tablets to set gat free. No laxative hut made or the fastoat actlng medicines known for add Indigestion. If the 1TIEHT POSE doesn’t prove Hell-ana better, return bottle to ua and receive POUBLB Money Back. jtfc. Must Suffer To love all mankind, from the greatest to the lowest, a cheerful state of being is required; but in order to see into mankind, into life, and still more into ourselves, suffering is requisite.—Richter. Beware Coughs from common colds That Hang On Creomulslon relieves promptly be cause It goes right to the seat of the trouble to help loosen and expel germ laden phlegm, and aid nature to soothe and heal raw, tender, In flamed bronchial mucous mem branes. Tell your druggist to sell you a bottle of Creomulslon with the un derstanding you must like the way it quickly allays the cough or you are to have your money back. CREOMULSION for Coughs, Chest Colds, Bronchitis MERCHANTS •Sff1** ,7®®® ®®d lZ“°r® tha» “;e co'umn„ of ^at,0« in faper- * l»™ n®w c“®ut>tion pJus apace and fcJ® Consider, ie /av°' ®aders for y^ °n of our