THE BEE: OMAHA. SUNDAY. AUGUST 7, 1021.
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TBR BTORT.
ALLATKE GUERNSEY tau inherited ths Guernsey .
Billion, and an inborn dirad of scandal. Her besettinr
fear of betas talked about baa led her, at 2. .e
Boarntfy a tririal quarrel with
bPENSFR BOURK-E, her fiance, bresk the en-si-Sient,
and ruah Into heedleta marriwe with
BENNETT HAI.SIY, smooth crook, who Is at
the end of hia resource, and needs Allayne'e mone?
At the atart of their honeymoon Allayne learna of
the exiatence of a woman known aa
ROSA HALSKY, whom the crook discarded to
snake hia marriase possible, and aha prompt!)' tells
Halsey abe la through with him. The train on
which they are passengers la wrecked and Bstsey,
stein hia scheme a, failure and fesrtnr the police,
who are alwaya on bia trail, concrivee the Idea of
"playnnr dead" by excbsnfln paper with one el
the wreck Ticttms. Allayne'a former romance i
reuomed and, supposing Balsey to be dead, ahe and
Bourks are married and And themselves supremely
kappy. Then Halsey. who baa been traveling; about
Main with Rosa, reappears in the rfile of black
mailer. Allayoe has put all her wealth Into
Bom-he's business and ie at her wits' end when ths
crook ask a for money. Therefor .he eomplicj
without question when he demands that ahe meet
him at a rosdhouae. Meanwhile Halaey haa had a
heart attack, knows himself to be at the point ot
death,' and has turned his thoughts from creed to
revenfe. He proposes, be tells AUayne. to kill
himself sad let her be found tn the locked room
at the roadhouse with bis body. As he is sbout
to carry out this threst. Rosa, who has prorided
" herself with a revolver, enters the room throurh
window snd kills him. Allsyne. terror stricke.n st
the thourht of further scandal, makes her escape
from the roadhouse with Rosa, hoping- tbat Halseys
aesth will be thoufbt a case ot suicide. But she
dr.es not reckon on the resourcefulness of
RANDOLPH JENKINS, the town's chief of police,
w ho Sods two weapons in the roadhouse room snd
no burns on the dead man's forehead, where tha
bullet entered conclusive evidence, Jenkins decides,
of murder. Nor does Allayne know that Halsey.
s a part of his scheme of revenge, wrote a letter
to this same chief of police, summoning him to
the inn.
SIXTH INSTALLMENT.
Rosa Pays the Piper.
THE Chief turned to the Joor and beck
oned tha trembling clerk to enter. Tht
man did so.
" Who had this room? I mean, did he give
any name?" asked Jenkins.
"' "He telephoned gave the name of Car
ver," replied the clerk.
" What time did he phono?"
"Between twelve and one," was the an
swer. " Said that he wanted a private dining
room. He got here a little before one,' or
dered luncheon for two, and said that a lady
would arrive shortly and to send her up
here. When she came she went right up
stairs, after asking me where Mr. Carver's
room was."
" Ever see her before?" asked Jenkins.
The clerk shook his head.
" How was ehe dressed?"
"I didn't really notice, sir," said the man,
except that her cjothes werj dark and
that she wore a heavy veil."
"Couldn't Identify her then?" asked
, Jenkins." -
The clerk shook his head again. Jenkins
looked beyond him to where, in the door
way, stood the sergeant and his followers,
. plainly piqued that their Chief had beaten
them to the scene.
Jenkins beckoned to the doctor. The sur
geon entered and bent over the dead man.
His examination was cursory, perfunctory.
" Death instantaneous," he announced, ris
ing from "his knees.
"All right," said Jenkins. He bent over
and picked up from the floor the automatic
pistol lying by Halsey.
" One shell fired," be announced. He
walked to the table and picked up Halsey'a
revolver. He "broke" it and found that
none of the cartridges had been exploded.
He waved a hand to the sergeant and the
plain clothes men entered. "Take charge,
sergeant," he ordered. He turned to the
clerk. "I'll talk to you later. Where's the
waiter who served them?"
The man came quickly forward. "We'll
talk outside," said Jenkins. He left to the
sergeant the detail work of examination.
Downstairs, in the private office of the
manager, he questioned the man.
"Never saw the dead man before?"
" Never, sir." replied the waiter, nervously.
"Tell me what happened from the mo
ment of his arrival," ordered the Chief.
The waiter's forehead wrinkled. He was
not a bright mentality, but mentality is not
required of waiters. But he was honest and
very anxious not to omit anything.
" Well, sir, the man Mr. Carver had
ordered luncheon for one o'clock."
" From you or from the clerk?"
" From me, sir. As l jon as he'd come I
went to the dining room upstairs, air. He
ordered the regular table d'hote meal, sir.
Then he asked me for pen and ink and sta
tionery. I brought them to him, sir. A few
minutes later he rang for me, and when I
got to the room he gave me a letter and told
me to mail it. He gave me a dollar tip; sir,
and said to mail it right away. And so I
walked right down to the letter box and
dropped it in."
He paused, as though for dramatic effect.
He had got over his first nervousness.
Doubtless he visualized himself as the cen
ter of an admiring circle of friends tonight,
thrilling them with the tale of the drama in
which be played a leading part.
" And the letter was addressed to you,
sir"' he cried.
Jenkins stared at him. "Tome?"
"Tes, sir. He made out it was so Im
portant that I took a look at the address.
And it was addressed to the Chief of Police
of Hillstown, sir."
Jenkins had had, in the few brief months
that he bad been at the head of the Hills
town police force, many exciting experiences.
But this was the most exciting of all. The
dead man upstairs had written to him short
ly before his death. Wty? The answer
came Immediately to his mind: because he
feared death, knew that some one intended
him injury, and wished the forces of the law
'put immediately upor- the trail of the slayer.
Unquestionably, even the name of the
ihijer would be contained In the letter.
The reasoning v.utt be sound. Why else
should the dead man have written to Hills
town's Chief of Police?
He reached for the telephone upon LH
manager's desk. He was connected with the
Hillstown postmaster.
"This la Kan Jenkins speaking."
"Listen," said the postmaster. "I don't
belong to your party. If you have any com
plaint to make, please address it through the
proper channels. Or is it a dinner Imita
tion, Rannie, old top?"
" Neither," said Jenkins, " a favor."
"The bank account is yours," said the
postmaster, chuckling. 4
"Not even that," laughed the Chief.
."There's been a murder at Hlllcrest. I've
just learned that the murdered man wrote
a letter to me before he was killed. How
recently haa mail
been collected from
the box near the
Inn."
The postmaster
whistled his amaze
ment. Then, "Just a
minute till I find
cut."
Jenkins heard him
speak to a clerk. In
a moment he said.
" The last collection
was' at eleven this
morning. The next la
at seven tonight.
What time was the
letter mailed?"
"About one," said
Jenkins.
" H'm. In that case
it's still in the box.
Ill send an inspector
out at once to open It.
"Ill have him give
you the letter. Where
will you be?"
" Well, if he comes
right away I'll be waiting at the Inn," replied
Jenkins.
" All right. . Anything else I can dor
" Not a thing, old man, exc .pt," he added,
' not to mention this letter."
"Silence Is our middle name down here,"
said the postmaster. .
Jenkins hung up the telephone and turned
again to the waiter.
" Well, what happened after that?"
" Luncheon had been ordered for one
o'clock, sir, and I brought it up in a heater,
just as a lady came up the stairs to the door.
I opened it for her and let her in. Then I
went In, too, and began serving the meal.
Then I left them. About an hour later, sir
maybe less I went up and knocked, t
heard the lady ask what I wanted. I told
her that I'd come for the dishes. She called
through the door that they'd ring when they
wanted me. So I went downstairs." I usual
ly go oft duty at half-past two or three, sir,
until the night trade begins. But I couldn't
leave until I'd brought the dishes downstairs
- and been paid the check.
"So, by and by I went back and
knocked. This time no one answered. I
tried the knob and found the door locked.
So I went to the top of the stairs, thinking
it was pretty funny, and called to Mr. Kenny.
He came upstairs and s we knocked and
called. Then, getting scared, we broke open
the door. Mr. Kenny ran right downstairs
and saw the woman driving off in her car.
Then he telephoned and t'.at's !', sir."
"And very well told." Jenkins compli
mented the man. He sent for Kenny, the
clerk.
" Did you see the woman leave?" he asked.
- well, sir, I didn't exactly see her," said
Kenny. "I was going over some accounts
and I sort of felt that some one was passing,
but I didn't look up. But the waiter called a
minute later, so I guess she must have gone
by Just before be callex'.."
"And when you discovered the body?"
prompted Jcaklns.
"Then I ran downstairs and looked out
the door in time to see the woman going
down the driveway in a car. I hollered to
her, but she didn't stop. Then I telephoned
the police."
"Didn't notice the number of the ma
chine?" '
The clerk shook his head.
" Send in the rest of the employes," ordered
Jenkins. '
But half an hour later, when be bad ques
tioned all of the servants. Jenkins gave up
the idea of discovering the number of the
machine. He went upstairs and talked with
the sergeant,
Halsey, in his way, had been something
of an actor. It was necessary that he should
be, inasmuch' as he played so many parts.
And when he was posing as an English
. man he carried no papers that, falling from
a pocket, might have unmasked him. At
the time of his death he had been posing
as William Carver. To have carried any
papers identifying him as Bennett Halsey,.
or as anyone else, would have been reckless.
So, upon bis body had not been found a
single document that would indicate that he
was anyone other than Mr. "Carver." -
As a matter of fact, beyond a few en
graved cards, bearing that name, there were
no papers whatsoever upon him. Save for
the letter that had been mailed t him,
Jenkins could see no clew to the possible
identity of the slayer. , Of course, there
might be finger prints upon the bandies of
the weapons, and these were carefully
shielded. Also, the sergeant and his men
would later examine the man's clothing.
l t.r ' yy0&z C3 f ?
V,4-''',S5 v''V-
sJ. est 4f
Rota obtain J a rime tabU,
waiting room, and
looking for laundry or other marks - that
would serve to place him. But just now
there was nothing to do save wait for the
arrival of the postal inspector. ,
He did not keep the chief waiting long.
But when he arrived carrying in his hand
a bundle of soiled, muddied envelopes, his
face wore a puzzled expression.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, chief," he
said. " Eut somebody skidded into the let
ter box at the foot of the drive. Knocked it
over and busted the mail box. I found these
letters in the road, but that's all."
He handed them to Jenkins. There was
no letter addressed to him.
"Did you get them all?" he asked.
The Inspector shook his head. "I picked
up one of these in the trees across the road.
There must have been a high wind blowing
no, I don't suppose I got half of them. And
it's so dark now that it isn't u.uch km,
looking."
But Jenkins disagreed with him. Once
more he picked up the telephone and issued
oruers that half a dozen men, equipped with
flashlights, should be sent out at once. At
" Thoro'o bton a mardtr
at Hillcrett."
their head, a little later, he began a sys
tematic search of the neighborhood of the
broken letter box. But two hours later he
temporarily gave up the search. Envelopes
had been discovered as far as fifty yards
away from the box.' Others might have been
carried by the wind even farther. And
across the main road were rather dense
woods, with thick underbrush. To search
this place at night, even with electric
torches, was out of the question. He must
possess bis soul In patience until the morrow.
He drove back to headquarters. He wished
that the identity of the murdered man and
of his murderess could have been solved
tonight. Tomorrow's opposition paper would
make much of the mystery. Of course, it
was absurd to expect the police department
to solve every crime within a few hours of
Its commission, but still he wished that
It could.
And because of that wish, he did not close
his desk and leave toe office. Perhaps he
waj assumlns too much. The letter of the
cho tecluded corner of th
tat down to ttady it.
dead man might be void of clews. It might
be the letter of a crank. It might contain
er ything. If, in the meantime, he could
learn soirsthing about the man, without de
pending on ' the discovery of the missing
letter. x
At ten o'clock that night Sergeant Blaney
reported to him that a man named Carver,
and his wife, had been registered at the
Longridge Hotel, a questionable hostelry in
the cheaper section of Hillstown. The man
had been heard giving a taximan the ad
dress, "Hillcrest Inn," about noon today.
Later his wife had made inquiries abbut him,
and had walked, apparently much disturbed,
away from the place. She had not returned.
It had also been learned that the man Carver
had been seriously ill the day before and had
had two doctors called to him. These doctors
had been interviewed, but knew nothing of
the man, save that they had attended him
and that he had been dangerously ill, at the
point of death, in fact. Servants had heard
the woman called, by her husband, by the
name of " Rosa." She had not returned to
the hotel since she lef- It, shortly after noon.
The sergeant had a description of her.
" Send that description out," said Jenkins,
"Have her arrested on sight. Anything in
the rooms that would tend to tell who they
were anything about them?"
' The sergeant shook his head. " Not a ,
thing, Chief."
Jenkins nodded. Shortly, there being noth
ing else to do, he went home.
Criminals of the confidence game type can
have no homes. The burglar, plying his
trade by night, his identity masked, may find
it possible to maintain a residence. There is
no reason why, by day, the burglar should
not be a respectable-seemtni; business or pro
fessional man. Doubtless many of them are.
For, unless he has bungled his work, he
need not fear recognition.
But the confidence man, the swindler,
works in the open. He presents his forged
note of introduction, insinuates himself into
his victim's good graces, perpetrates his chi
canery, and must needs fly to fields afar.
He cannot meet bis victim next day at the
club. For his identity is known. He must
depart with all the celerity that he can
muster. '
Rose, wife of a confidence man, had never
known home life since the ill-fated day when,
a cashier in a little southwestern restaurant,
she had made the acquaintance of Benny
Halsey, who was at that moment engaged
in laying the foundation for an oil swindle
of some magnitude.
Since the C:y, shortly after their meeting,
when she had married him, she had always
"traveled light." For it was essential to
their liberty that they be able to step aboard
a train or boat at a moment's notice. It
was cheaper, Halsey used to say, to buy new
things than to wait for the laundry and a
policeman.
So that there was nothing of hardship,
nothing unusual, in the fact that Rosa found
it necessary to leave Hillstowtt without any
of the effects that she had brought there.
She had slightly ove. fifteen hundred dol
lars, enough to keep her going for some
tune. Arter that-O, ehe could take care of
herself. ,
Just how she would take care of herself
was not Important at the moment. She had
been honest until she met Halsey. Whether
or not she would have remained honest had
she never met Halsey is doubtful. She was
of the sort that takes what It considers the
easiest, most comfortable course. If circum
stances arrangod themselves so that honesty
would be easy, Rosa would be honest. But
with her future she was not at all concerned.
Only the immediate present Interested her.
She had progressed through many moods
since the killing of Halsey. On the moment
of regaining consciousness that ever-present
fear of the police had ruled her. But only
momentarily. She had become indifferent to
the consequences. Then, a little later, she
had been anxious to end everything, either
by jail or death. A little after that she had
decided to begin life all over again, and
escape was the thought that ruled her. It
still ruled.
She did not make the mistake ot engag
ing a taxlcab when Allayne set her down
from the roadster. It was a stormy day.
A taximan, reading the account of the kill
ing at Hillcrest Inn, might remember hav
ing conveyed a wet and bedraggled woman
to this or that place. No, she would walk
to the railroad station. Ticket agents in
so bustling a place as HilMown would
hardly remember every prospective pas
se.iger. ' ,
But, unfortunately, there would not be
a train for New York until late afternoon.
Rosa, in the waiting room, studied the "
situation thoughtfully. In an hour or so
perhaps less the railroad stations would be
watched. Unfortunately, a description of Al
layne If one were obtainable would loosely
fit herself, Rosa. They both had worn dark
clothing, were veiled, and their general com
plexions were the same. Rosa was tempted
to remove the veil, but decided not to. Some
employe of the Longridge Hotel might be in
the station, attending to tickets or baggage
for a guest of the place. Curiosity might be
aroused at. sight of her.
From the information window she obtained
a timetable. She chose a secluded corner
of the waiting roots, and sat down to study
it. . A train for Chicago left in two hours.
And, of course, local trains left for various
points at frequent Intervals. ,
Chicago and New Tork, however, were
the only places where Rosa felt that she
might hide in security. And she didn't know
Chicago at all. It suddenly occurred to her
that there were other roads besides this one
which passed through Htltotown. She asked
for a timetable of another road. Studying
this, she found that a train for New Tork
left Stasburg in two hours. According to
the map it was only a dozea miles or so from
Hillstown.
She left the station and approached a
taximan. She knew that it made her con
spicuous, that the man would remember
her, but it was extremely doubtful that the
Hillstown evening paper of today would con
tain any account of the killing of Halsey.
Her brief residence in the town had taught
ber that the evening paper came out at one
o'clock and that it published only one edi
tion. She doubted that it would be enter
prising enough to publish an extra. There
fore, the taximan wouldn't connect her with
the killing supposing that he did until
toraonyjr morning's paper had been pub
lished, at the earliest. And by that time
she'd be in New Tork.
"Can you drive me to Stasburg?" she
asked.
The man eyed her appraisingly. With
her hat and suit wrinkled by the rain, ehe
did. not look like the sort of person who could
pay fifteen dollars for a taxi ride.'
" It's nearly thirty miles," he said. " Cost
you fifteen dollars."
"That's all right," she told him. "How
long will it take?"
The taximan glanced at the slippery street.
"Pretty muddy over the hills," he said.
"Ought to do it in an hour and a half,
though."
Rosa opened the rear door of the machine.
"All right; take me there," she ordered.
The man hesitated, and she guessed the
cause. She opened her purse and extracted
fifteen dollars. She gave It to him. "And
there'll be five more when we get there," shs
told him.
The man's surly face lighted. up. "Hop
In, lady," he invited. A moment later they
were turning away from the station.
Emotion is exhausting. There were no
pangs of remorse to keep Rosa awake, and
she had no fears of capture. Wherefore she
sank into a placid slumber. She never
awoke from it in this world.
Rounding a curve on a steep hill, the taxi
man came face to face with a descending
car. To save an infinitesimal fraction of
time, the taximan was hugging the wrong
side of the road. The other was a heavy
touring car and its brakes could not stop it;
barely checked It, The taximan whirled his
wheel over. He saved his own life. But
the big car tore into the rear of the taxi
and crushed it.
Hours later the taximan awoke in a Hills
town hospital. Beyond a badr shaking up
be was well enough. And In the morning he
was able to talk with a detective of pollee,
and give Information concerning the acci
dent Frankly he conceded that it was due
to his own carelessness.
"How's the lady?" he asked remorsefully.
The detective told him. The taximan
groaned in horror. ' t
" Who was she?" demanded the detective,
The taximan shook his head. " Neer saw
her in my life before," be sUted. He nar
rated the circumstances of his engagement
by Rosa.
The detective was qulcx-wltied. He saw
a connection between the victim of the scei
dent snd the woman wanted for the Hill
crest killing. So, In the morning, employes
of the Longridge Hotel definitely identified
the body of Rosa as the missing " Mrs. Car
ver." Jenkins, arriving at his office at nine, was
, greeted by the detective. He listened atten
tively to the man's story. He nodded sp
provingly. " Good work, Wilson," he said.
A reporter from the afternoon paper was
waiting to see him. He ordered that the
man be admitted.
The morning paper, pro administration,
had contained a long account of the mysterV
ous killing, and had wound up with the state
ment that the police were showing remark
able efficiency.
Jenkins smiled as he read this. There bad
been neither efficiency nor inefficiency shown
as yet. But now. this Information brought
by Wilson clarified the case. There re
mained to be found the letter that bad been
written to him by the dead man, but that
would merely explain, probably, the motive)
for the crime. And that was not nearly
so Important as the identity of the slayer.
And that identity, Jenkins believed, hti,
been discovered. The woman was fleeing
Hillstown when she had been killed. It was
known that she had been excited at learning;
f-.at her "husband had left the hotel. Of
course, there was something puzzling In t?i
fact that "Carver" had made, apparently,
an engagement to meet a woman at Hilt
crest, and that his wife, who patently ha4
been there and killed htm, should have bee
excited at hi departure from the hotel.
Still, Jenkins reasoned, they had tntende
to go together, but for some cause the maa
had decided to go by himself, leaving tht
woman to follow later. The letter written,
by the dead man might clear up this gap ta
his reasoning.
And that letter would soon be found. Half
a do a men had been searching for it sine
dawn. They were, according to m. report
upon his desk, climbing trees, looking in lb- -branches.
. . . They'd find it. And, be
cause a crowd of amateur searchers would
binder the police IX the existence of the let
ter were made known, nothing had . been
given to the newspaper men Vut It Th
waiter had been Instructed to keep silent,
and Jenkins was qulta,sure that he would
obey.
So, feeling that with the identification of
Rosa the department had a good night's
record, he smiled upon the representative of
the: evening paper. Personally, they wt.ro
friendly, although politically opposed.
"Anything new on the Hillcrest murder,
chief?" asked the reporter.
"You can't bawl us out this afternoon,
Kennedy," eaid Jenkins. "Anything new?
Well, something. We've found the woman
who killed 'Carver'."
The reporter was a sportsman; he coull
appreciate the dexterity of a foeman.
" Nice w: ' " he commented, " HoWd rej
do it?"
Jenkins told him, The reporter Bodied, j
"Anything on the motive?" - asked, i
"Not jet," Jenkins admitted, "But rs
hope to learn something."
The reporter nodded again. "But yea
can't prove that this woman killed the saaa."
he objected.
"It's circumstantial; I'll concede t'tjat"
said Jenkins. "But pretty good at that"
" I'll say it is," the reporter congratulate
him. "Much obliged. Chief."
Jenkins grinned. Don't mention it Ken
nedy." "All right, I won't" smiled the news
paper man.
There was something mocking in his
smile, something that made Jenkins vaguely
uneasy. Did the man know anything that
was not known to the police? Mentally he
began reviewing the case aa it had progressed
thus far.
He bad an excellent brain. And he bad
not bc:n thinking five minutes before be
began to see, not the one flaw in his rea
soningthe strangeness of the fact that, if
"Carver" were planning to have luncheon
with his wife, he had not driven to the Inn
witb ber but several others. For opposi
tion sharpened his wits.
The case, with the identification of the
body of "Mrs. Carver," had seemed so sim
ple that he had been content with what had
beon done. But the mocking smile of Ken
nedy made his brain, lulled Into contentment
awaken.
Mrs. Carver " had been killed in an acci
dent to her taxi. But she had ridden away
from the hotel In a car which she had
driven herself. What had become of that
car? It couldn't have been a taxi, or there
would have been a chauffeur. Why had a
woman who apparently owened her own oar,
later used a taxlcab?
(Continued Next Sunday)
(Copy right, 1911, by Artaur Soraera Roths)
