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About The Omaha morning bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 1922-1927 | View Entire Issue (April 13, 1925)
New York ---Day by Day— By O. O. MrlNTYRE. New York, April 12.—A page from the diary of a modern Samuel Pepys: Vo and with Gene Markey, the book reviewer to gt-ee' Ashton Stevens, the dramatic critic. against his going to Europe and had a bite with Inn Claire who was in high lnoka and bravely say. And we talked very big about lit erature albeit I know very Utile about it and so to Gramercy Park to <ae H. Hoth's new ton. Thence to Tt. Long s luncheon to Michael Arlcn tie tayle writer, and found him a very small, shy young man but he v «n our hearts hv his frankness. In the evening to the Madison to a dinner Henry Sell gave and young Allen also there and. too, Mrs. TV. Tt. T-learst. Norman Hapgood. Joseph Moore. Irvin Cobb. Ttalph Barton and all of our wives and mighty mirth we had. So home late and to bed. Tire" since the promulgation of that phantasy that Eugene Walter gnawed at crusts on a Bryant. Park bench before New York claimed him as a writing genius, there has been talk of a cozy home for scribblers. 1 have never met a writer who ac tually suffered the pangs of hunger, p. Henry perhaps came nearest to it in New York in the last decade. Anyway there is to he a nifty little attic for writers in the new Author's league studio apartment building. It will be 13 stories high and above these pill rise a tower four stories high. In less affluent writing days, If any. I used to journey to second-hand clothes shops on Second avenue in the spring to dispose of my winter suit. It became a sort of high ad venture. The suit was usually of brown. With uncanny instinct and before I opened the package the overlord would say: "If it is brown, I don't want It"—and my heart would sink. “It it was now a niftick blue suit t could use it," and then he would open and Inspect the brown suit, with well feigned disgust. "How much?” lie would inquire in a voice that indicated any price was too much, 1 had a fixed price—$fi. He would tie up the package and without a word hand it back and I would start for the door. At tlie entrance lie would call: "Wait a minute!" and the haggling would begin. He w ould offer |5.50 and 'moan be cause the suit was not of blue. Rut I always held out and in the end got my price. Once r did capitulate for S5.90 ami have been kicking myself ever since. The last stand of the combination shooting gallery and penny peep show is on Sixth avenue. An Im presario In cowboy hat, blue flannel shirt and rattlesnake belt presides. There are also many mechanical for tune telling devices, weight lifting machines ai d the like. The proprie tor tells me most of his patrons are city folk and the heaviest rush of trade Is after the theater. The library wall on Forty-second street Is the pitch ground of the night peddlers. For five cents one may scan the heavens through a tele scope. Also see the Herd's prayer engraved on a pin head. Brown der ived men sell naughty French pic tures. Silk neckties for a dime—with the whispered Implication they were stolen. A strange crew of salesmen. They mingle together but rarely con verae, A few sales a night seem to meet their needs. I have n note from Reconcilement Department of a N'ew* York bank. I fear to open it. 1 suppose they can not reconcile incoming checks of mine with the amount deposited. (Copyright, 1925.) 1 The Long Green Gaze A Cross Word Puzzle Mystery By Vincent Fuller * v (Continued From ftatnrday.) “Do you hope for much from that, Burke?” “We'll have to get each one into n state of mind about it first—grill them for several hours, and then. When their nerves are pretty well shot, flash this dim on the screen suddenly in the room where they're sitting. If one of them’s guilty, they're pretty sure, in my estimation, to break down. Somebody did this." “Yes. we re sure of that—at least,” Smith smiled wryly. "The thing that I want now is to have that library searched. The architect’s plans don't show anything in the nature of a secret panel. And the architect—he must be eighty now—remembers noth ing of the kind. The workman are scattered, and we can't reach them. Still, that emerald was in that room, and must he there still. That would be the only reason for the thief's going down there at night.” With his assistants. Smith went Into the room to supervise the search. .Measurements were already being taken by hi* assistants: walls and woodwork were being carefully sound ed for hollow spaces. Books were taken from the shelves and examined, and the shelves also were scrutinized with extreme <are. The furniture was probed. And all the work went on noiselessly, so as not to arouse suspicion on the part of those above. Smith even had a jeweler on hand to examine the elaborate heavy clock •.hat stood on the mahogany mantel. But tlie sum total of several hours of silent investigation was—nothing. Nothing, that is. except some ripped furniture, hastily repaired. "We won’t find anything until we tear the room down.’’ Smith told Burke in discouraged tones. "And we can’t do that yet. We might find the emerald, hut it's the thief we’re after —the thief and the murderer. "Have you heard from the reports jet?” "N'ot a word. I'm expecting them every minute.” Whereupon Smith ordered the room *et to rights, and In the dining room smoked a cigaret with Burke. They were interrupted by the arri val of one of Smith's assistants. "Henry Talbot's report, Mr. Smith. I brought it right out.” Smith grabbed the report, and to gether he and Burke bent over it. When they raised their eyes to look at each other, there was renewed life in their faces. "We might as well go <ip to thle first one's room, and quiz her a little there,” Burke said. "That will five the people time to clear out.” Accordingly, a minute later. Helen Barr was admitting them to her room, in answer to a soft rap on her door. “The thing we want to know. Miss Barr. Is your reason for suspecting Homer Chalfonte, and for writing a cross-word puzzle casting suspicion on him and slipping it under the door of Miss Pitkin's room in the middle of the night?” Helen's eye* widened. “I—I did nothing of the kind.” ”Oh, yes. you did. We’re not here to argue It. We're here to get your reasons.” ’’But what makes you think T did?” Her breath was coming quickly. "The report of Henry Talbot, hand writing expert, for one thing. You worked carefully, well admit, but still, in the linste of printing the let ters, you couldn't wholly control the long years of established habits of writing. An occasional stroke be trays you. an occasional curl of the letters. There's no use in trying to conceal the fact.” “t—I—r did do It. I don't know why I lied about It. I thought I couldn't be traced by anybody. . . . 1 wrote It. not so much because I had any real evidence against Homer Chalfonte. as because I was so wor ried about Grant—Mr. Fowler. 1 knew lie wasn't, guilty. And after all, Homer Chalfonte had had that jar. It was his—lie brought it here—not Grant. And he could so easily have placed It In Grant’s room. A ‘plant’ you call it, don’t you? And . . . that’* ail there Is to it.” Her voice quickened then: "And doesn't Homer Cbalfonte’s suicide—” "What makes you think tt was suicide?” "Why. everything. t-Te—he mur dered— I'm sure he did—to get the emerald back. He thought by rigid* that it belonged to him or to his family. And then be felt he was traced, and would be discovered, and owmltted suicide. That’s what T think, and nothing can shake the thought out of my head. Besides, think of the doors and windows locked on the Inside." "A \ery Interesting theory, Mies Barr—except that It may not lake .ill ♦ he facts Into account. . . . But you bad no other reason for suspecting Chalfonte, other Ihnn the oqc« you've given?” “S'-no. N'one tlist T can rnnemlie;' * few. . . If i think of any I'll tell JPU.” — ■ > "Very good of you.Ml right, I guess that's all. Don't write ary more puzzles, though, is m,v advice to you.” Smith rose as he spoke. "You’re hardly clever enough for that.” Then they left. As they went down the hall toward Miss Minty's room, Burke opened his notebook and point ed out an item to Smith. Thp item read: "Helen Barr faints when the doctor announces death by poison.” Smith nodded his head "Anxious to make it suicide, too," he mur inured. Miss Minty Pitkin, similarly eon fronted in her room, admitted at once that site hail received the puzzle that had been slipped under her door, had worked it at once, and had reported it the next day' to Helen and Hose, and had—as she pointed out—given it to Burke on returning from the funeral, "And now about this puzzle you wrote, Miss Pitkin. Why did you write it—the one you placed under the flowers on the coffin, I mean'’" "Yes. I wrote that, and 1 11 tell vou exactly why. First, though. I'd like to know how you know I wrote it." "Tracing such handwriting as yours Isn't very difficult, Miss Pitkin. It was very easy, in fact. I suppose that your years and the nervous ten sion of the whole affair betrayed you more easily than you think." "All right. But I don’t pretend for a minute that I didn't write it. Just note that, young man. Now I'll tell you why I did it. I worked the puzzle that, was slipped under my door, as I told you. That pointed suspicion at Homer Chalfonte—whom I had suspected all along, anyway— he and that Hindu. Weil. 1 knew Hel en was frightfully worried about Grant. Almost hysterical, she was. So I went right down to her room and was going m tell her about it.” "You went to Miss Barr s room with the puzzle that was slipped under your door, eh?" Smith smiled, and glanced at Burke "I did. AVasn’t It a natural thing to do?” "Certainly.” "Well, just as T was about to rap on her door I glanced around and saw something that gave me the scare of my life." She paused, to note with lively eyes the effect of her announcement. "Ye*, go on, Miss Pitkin." "1 saw the shadow of a head on the wall, an enormous shadow—it was the shadow of a head with a turban on it! Now what that Hindu was up to. I don't know. I didn't wait to find out. I went hack to mv room as fast as I could go snd wrrote a puzzle about him, and that was the puzzle 1 slipped under the flowers on the coffin the next morning" "You couldn’t see what Mr. Bose was doing?" "No. And 1 didn't wait to find out." "On which wall wax the shadow?" "The south one. It was cast by the light burning downstairs. I've thought since that lie must have been on the landing " This Information touched Smith to action. He wondered, as he left the room with Burke, if he had been wrong in releasing Ghopal Bose. Ghoprfl, who had returned to the Dunsfnth house, was ns ready to tell what he knew, apparently, as Mis* Minty had been ready to tell about him. "Yes, T was out in the hall on that night. You know' that the emerald really belongs to the god of my pen ido. T was trying to get it, anil admit that 1 was. But t could do nothing with the safe in Mrs. Dunseath's room. Anil as 1 was returning to my room. I was aware that somebody was moving about softly, downstairs. I crouched and tried to see who it was. T couldn't see.' "Could you tell whether It whs n man or a woman?" "No—the sounds were too soft, and I could see nobody. I was about to go down when I heard somebody else moving. It must have been Miss 1*11 kin. Naturally 1 did not want to be seen prowling around. I did not know whether I had t>een seen or not. But I did not—what do you call It?— wish to ‘take a chance.’ Hence 1 re tired to my own room.” Together Burke and Smith reviewed their finding* In the kitchen, the In mates nf the House having been re leased from their rooms. “Apparently, we've only cleared the Jungle of some underbrush, hut we ought lo he able to see the-hlg thing all the better. At least, we ought to he able to see where the big tilings arc. For one. I'm still convinced that the emerald’s hidden somewhere In ilie library. I have ilmi much faith in Fhall'onle's puzzle l hen. we have Helen Bari -her theory of suicide her iigltallon -which doesn't mean much In ilself Ht 111. It's clear that she len t acting npenli . as most oi lhe other- seem to be ' (In Us (unlinuid iuuivrrun.) Bozo Butts—They Drive Him Nuts. _By Rube Gol<lb"8 t aj MISTGR. BUTTS, | hGBobY ~TOLb» he You a Re go- >v IMG TO HAVANA You’Re cRaz.Y UOrtY bOO’T You GO TO ITALY Y GlMHe A * -nc<er « *TO MAR' T / ttovje. ' ^ TH£R£’S "@571 „ l Rie\rry of 1k>w Boic^ey room iwsibe M®.2\ • tucV^p Vi THE NEBBS . " LIZZIE. Pirated for The Om.h.. Bee by Sol He,, I i /Tsn't it funny M /iVe seen busy''\ '-I'm ci vi no a Mas a woman with' PARTY SATURDAY AND / EIGHT CHILDREN 1 WAS GOING TO AND A SHIFTLESS \ PHONE YOU TO SEE [ HUSBAND — \'M AL-. I WAYS ENGAGED 'WAY ) j AHEAD BUT l'LL /' COME TO YOUR .) — ; -— /WAVE YOU t?EEN NELLIE 0UTCMER WElT / LATELY ? I SAW HER^THE OTHER DAY ! AND SHE WANTED TO PRETEND SHE didn't SEE ME-SHE TRIED TO ACT ARlS 1 TOCRATIG BUT YOU GOT TO 0E LONGER AWAY FROM A WASM-TU0 AND WRING ER THAN SHE IS TO DO IT FANCY LIKE — . AND YOU SHOULD SEE HER HAIR — ; WHEN WE WORKED FDR MRS SHULTZ \SHE [ i Copyright 19. /and IT WAS OF NO REGULAR~~\_ /COLOR-NOW THERE IS LOTS OF IT 1 • FLUFFY-LIKE /AND SHE MU5T HAVE \ KILLED A HUNDRED HENS TO GET THE! HENNA-AND SHE'S AS BLIND AS A ] SMOKED HERRING AND DO YOU THINK j >5HE'D WEAR SPECS ?-NO - IT WOULD/ ) LOOK OLD - SHED RATHER WALK \ AROUND SQUINTING LIKE THE SUN / — WAS IN HER EYES—WELL SO'LONG^ /rvSEE YOU FRIDAY « RRINGING UP FATHFR «Rp*‘*,"ei,„ SEE jiggs and maggie in full Drawn for The Omaha Bee by McManus OIY1MV1111VJ '-'I I rt I IlLil\ U. S. Patrnt Office PAGE OF COLORS IN THE SUNDAY BEE ICowj r.aht IMS) * rt *f ' I - ' I »•- - ' - - ■—^"1 ■■■ > « ---. —_,___.___ _ _ _____ k *Oh: v/ill that I ] DENTIST EVER <G'T 1 through with that ^—. ,r PATIENT? 1 CANT *bTANO 'v—j thi^> much longer: 019Z9 *v I nth. Fiatwi S«f*v»ce. Inc. Cretl Britain right* n***rve<l ' ABIE THE AGENT A MAN OP" PIIS WORD. Drawn for The Omaha Bee by Hershfielc 1 TILLIE, THE TOILER. ByWestover I dOSM, GEE, \ EhDM'T GET TO THE TlLLlfe, OEEiCE GNT1L ELEV£U ! YOU'RE O'CLOCK- THE BOSS 1 ALWAYS HAS ~TH'S LAW S>U\T \ s LUCKY 1^. 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