Omaha daily bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 187?-1922, August 28, 1921, EDITORIAL, Image 24

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    jjd , THE BEE: OMAHA, SUNDAY, AUGUST 28, 1921.
BOGIE
of FEiAPL&Aztfiar Sbmers Roche
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NINTH INSTALLMENT,
i
j The Letter.
ALLAYNE could read his thoughts. Hla
sigh of reUef wu audibly She felt
triumphant, victorious. Tor no on
Is would bar teen her; the streets through
which eh had passed that tragio Wednesday
bad been almost deserted. Even when ah
bad taken Rosa almost Into town the storm
bad swept the streets of pedestrians. It was
beer accident that Miss Harrington had ob
served, There would not b two such acci
dents. And the road on which she lived was
on.th outskirts of the town. She could
wear to It that none of her distant neighbors
or their servants had been abroad to sea her
motor ear go In or eat.
She was safe! And then Ifuku entered the
room. Her two Jap bora were a source of
constant amusement to her and her friends.
EquMj capable, ther changed positions with
out consulting their mistress. Today Tsuro
was acting as butler and Ifuku was chef and
footman both.
( "Lady can." he announced.
'Who is it? " asked Allayne.
"Mrs. Gulterman." The Jap pronounced
the name with difficulty. "She ay call
Wednesday you out. Want see you."
Allayne saw the gleam in the eye of Jenk
ins. But not by a quiver of a muscle did she
how her tension.
"Bother!" she declared. She smiled quhv
slcally at Jenkins. " Tou know, she's dear,
but she is a bore. I'm out again today,
Ifuku."
The Jap bowed and left the room. The
gleam died out of Jenkins eyes. Of course!
"Out" was a polite phrase indicating that
one did not wish to receive a person.
"She rang and rang and rang," said Al
layne carelessly. "But when one baa a
headache -
" Of course," said Jenkins. His whole man
ner seemed to change. Allayne felt It. She
knew that If he had In any way suspected
her, her manner and her story bad banished
his suspicions. He suddenly smiled at her,
that warm, friendly grin of hla that helped
his popularity.
It even broadened as be beard her husband
enter the hall outside and cry:
" Allayne! "
They were a darned nice couple, and he
night to be kicked around the block for en
tertaining for the fractional part of a second
the insane Idea that Mrs. Bourke knew any.
thing about the CresthTH mystery.
A sudden thought assailed Allayne even as
he responded to her husband's kiss. It had
rained only one day in the last week
Wednesday. She had not had the car cleaned.
Last night, when she and Spenser had dined
with Jenkins, it had been dark; the mud on
the car had not been observable. But, lest
by accident Jenkins see it, and dead suspicion
be revived, that mud should be removed. -
"Mr. Jenkins la having tea with me," she
told her husband.
Finer exclaimed Bourke. He walked to to .
the living room. Allayne, lingering behind,
gave an order to Ifuku.
"We're not expecting any one else Tsars
can answer the ben If any one should come.
Wm you wash the car?"
Ifuku bowed. They were very fond, these
two Jap boys, of the household which they
served. Ifuku was ambitious to learn how
to drive a ear. Allayne had promised that
she would pay for lessons and that when be
was competent she would permit him to call
for her husband occasionally at the office.
Ifuku had no objection to cleaning a car
which he expected some day to drive. And,
if he had, his liking for Allayne would have
made him swallow his objection.
Allayne entered the room where her hus
band and Jenkins sat. The two men were
chatting pleasantly, and she took her seat
again at the tea table.
"How's the search for the mysterious
woman coming along? " asked Bourke. "Tve
read the papers, but It doesnt seem to me
that you "re any nearer to her than you were
yesterday."
Allayne's smile, though neither of the men
knew it, held a trace of grunness.
" O, we're coming along," rejoined Jenkins.
Bourke Jeered at htm amicably. "Hub!
That's what the police always say. They're
coming along. They have reason to believe
something or other. Ten the troth, Rannie,
Id top. You're in the house of your friends.
Have you on single, solitary, lonesome ray
f hope that youH ever locate her? Arent
you Just waiting for the hue and cry to die
away to forget an about her and turn your
attention to " other matters? On-the-level
stuff, now! "
Beneath his Quizzical, Incredulous glance
Jenkins colored slightly. His round chin took
on an expression of stubbornness.
" O, It's not as bad as that," he declared.
"Well why Isn't It?" challenged Bourke.
"Confidentially, aren't you stalling? Hav
you got any Ides, at all that you'U locate
her?"
These were hla friends. Spenser Bourke had
done a bit of campaigning for Jenkins' party
In the last election. And he, Randolph Jenk
ins, bad done Mrs. Bourke the grave wrong
of suspecting ber of a hideous crime. Of
course no one else In the world knew of his
suspicions. : Nevertheless he had held them.
In a measure he owed her something. So he
felt, at any rate.
Also, Bourke had a keen mind an excep-
t;s7 ,fiAu M fa k?A
tionally keen one, Jenkins believed. It he
had been theorizms absurdly, Bourke would
point out the absurdity. If he had been cor
rect, Bourke would probably recognize that
fact A sudden Impulse to confidences opened
his usually guarded lips.
"Well, ni ten you, Spense," he said. " So
nearly as I can figure It, I've one chance In
the world to land the woman. Yesterday the
chance looked brighter In fact, I was cer
tain. Today -wen, Tm doubtful."
Allayne's face was a mask of polite Interest
as she asked:
"Only one chance? What do you mean,
Mr. Jenkins?"
He stared at her; then he looked at her
husband. He lighted, accepting Allayne's
nod as permission, a cigar.
" Well, Spense, suppose that you knew that
this dead man. Carver, had, Just before the
woman came to see him In the private dining
room, written a letter? What would you
think of It?"
' Bourke was puzzled. "Well," he replied
slowly, " I'm not sure that I'd think anything
of It It would depend, I take it, on whom
the letter was written to."
"Exactly!" exclaimed Jenkins. - "And If
that letter had been addressed to the Chief of
Police of Hlllstown what would you think ,
were its contents? " ,
Bourke whistled incredulously. Allayne
felt her heart sinking down into depths
where no well regulated heart should go. So
then, all her quick wit, her caution these
went for nothing! She felt an almost master
ing Impulse to scream, but fought it down.
The figures of the two men, sitting so close
to her, seemed to recede, then to come close;
they were blurred; then every feature was
sharply defined ... Clearly, incisively,
seeming to spell her doom, she heard her
husband speak.
" Why, there's nothing to It at an, Rannie.
There were two guns found there In the
room, weren't there? A fair assumption
would be that the man carried one of them.
Certainly the woman didn't carry them both.
Of course, if there were two women they
might have carried one apiece. But still, as
sumlng lrly enough, I think that the
man Carver owned one of the weapon . . .. '
Men dont carry revolvers to much eons with
women unless they expect trouble. Why," he
went on more slowly, more carefully, "I'd
say that this man expected trouble, thought
that he was going into danger, perhaps might
be killed , . . rd say," he finished con
fidently, " that he told in that letter whom
he expected to lunch with him and what ha
feared from that person. And, most prob
ably, why he feared whatever he did fear."
"WeH, that's exactly what I think," said
Jenkins.
" Think! " ejaculated Allayne. " Dont yon
knowt " And desperately as she strived. to ,
keep her voice calm, normal, she heard it
rise thinly ks she emphasized the last word.
" That's the trouble; I havent received the
letter." Then, as they both stared at him
In bewilderment, he explained.
"And the men are still looking for It In
the woods? " asked Allayne.
" Hardly at this minute," said Jenkins.
"It's dark. I've found that flashlights arent
much use; but they'll be at It again In the
morning. You see," he addressed his words
to Bourke, "how certain I was yesterday
afternoon. But now that today has gon
without discovery of the note it might, you
know, be years before it was found. But
some day, someetime, unless the rain has
rotted it out of all existence, that letter wfll
be found. Nothing is ever lost, although tt
may be destroyed,"
Nothing Is ever lost! As a felon might f e4
upon hearing the Judge's sentence, so Al
layne felt at Jenkins' words. All through
life, though she might live to be ninety,
would be with her the ever-present fear that
some one would stumble upon that letter.
What was It that Halsey had said to her In
that room of tragedy? As if she could ever
forget it!
"... youTl not convince them that I
killed myself. I've taken care of that."
She bad not known then what he meant.
Since then she had supposed It to be based
upon his expectation that she would be found
beside his dead body. But now she understood
the devilish cunning of the man. He had
guarded against her possible escape from
the room, rl bad written to the Chief of
PoUcel
She could imagine what be had written,
the half-truths, the downright lies. No won
der that Jenkins had felt confident of her
apprehension.
Nothing Is ever lost, although it may be
destroyed! Her only reliance could be that
the elements would destroy this letter. But
the elements would treat her no more kindly
than Fate had done. Sooner or later, to
morrow or the next day. ...
To tamely yield, to surrender while there
was a fighting chance. . . . But she
could not go to the woods near by the Crest
hin Inn and herself search for the missing
letter. To do so would be to arouse Instant
suspicion. And how couldsho hop to find
what half a dozen men had thus far failed to
discover?
And now, suddenly for the first time sine
Halsey had called upon her on last Tuesday,
he felt calm, reconciled. This was the
nd; she had tried to avoid it, and it was
unavoidable. It was too late for regretr.
" Whmrm arm thm
ttatuett? -demanded
Jankint,
H looked from
n to the other.
And now As teemed
to eenme tomething
tenet, tomething
etrange, in
thm atmoephere.
Had she defied Halsey last Tuesday; had
she told her husband what In all frankness
she should have told him, the Halsey Ilea
would have been exposed. The man would
not have dared, in the face of Spenser's
righteous wrath, to have held to hla state
ment that he had been legally married to
her.
But she hadnt done it. Her cowardice,
her unwillingness to meet a situation be
cause It was dreadful, had led to this! Thin
ly, as through a telephone instrument yards
away from the ear, she heard Jenkins say
ing: "So, you can see, Bourke, that there Is
absolutely only that one chance of finding
her. I've been over the situation a hundred
times; I've reviewed it from every angle. If
that letter is never delivered to me weTl
never catch the woman. I'm positive of
that"
"Well, frankly, old top, I hope you never
get It then," said Bourke. "I'm for the
woman. Oh, I know that It's wrong; women
ought to suffer for the penalty of their
crimes as well as men, but I'm for them.
And, anyway, It doesn't seem to me that
you've proved that there were two women
In that room. Oh, X know all about your
conflicting testimony as to time, and I know
that there were a woman's footprints out
side, but a footprint a day old may be a
week old. The ground has been soft for
weeks; how can you be sure that the foot
prints below the balcony weren't made be
fore the rainstorm? You know that you
can't
"And," he went on, warming to his sub
Ject, "if the woman who was killed In the
taxi accident wasnt the dead man's wife,
she at least lived with him. Why, lsnt It
plausible that she, In a fit of Jealous fury,
kUled hlmr ,
"Because of the other woman?" asked
Jenkins slyly.
"Not at all! Tou havent proved ther
was any other woman."
"One the wife came In a taxL The
other in a private car," said Jenkins.
Bourke's brows wrinkled. "That's right;
you have me there," he conceded.
"Not that it matters a bit though," said
Jenkins. "All that other woman has to do
Is keep her mouth closed. Unless the man
Carver's letter to me is found wen, weTl
never get ber."
And now Allayne bad com to ber deck
aion. But she wanted to tell Spenser alone.
The first shock must not be witnessed by
any on else.
"One you wanted to see my collection of
Japanese Ivory statuettes," she said to Jen
kins. "Have you time now?"
"I'd be delighted," he told her.
Then I'll get them," said Allayne. She
rose and left the room. She went to her
own room and waited there five minutes.
Then from' the head of the stairs, she called
to her husband.
"I can't find the key, Spense," she said.
"Will you come up and help me?"
Bourke murmured a word f apology to
Jenkins and went upstairs. In the middle
of her room he found Allayne.
" I'll say you're not looking very hard," he
smiled.
Then something In her face drove the
smile from his lips. He advanced toward
her, his arms outstretched.
" Allayne what's wrong? "
She gave him her hands and faced him.
"Spenser," she said slowly, "I'm the
woman that the police are looking for."
"You're the what's the Joke, Allayne?"
he blurted. t
But, Incredible as her statement was,
somehow he knew that It was true. And,
because he was the sort of man who can
meet a great emergency in a great way, h
did not stammer Incoherent things.
"Tell me, Allayne," he said.
Slowly, yet with her voice controlled, she
told him all that had happened since the
arrival at the house of Halsey. Then, hav
ing finished, she waited, now trembling with
fear, for some word of condemnation from
him. The law she no longer feared that.
Fate had been too much for her. But
Spense what he would say. , . . Yet she
might have known.
His arms went around her, and" he drew
her to him; the mere pressure of his strong
muscles buoyed her, gave her strength.
"You listen to me, Allayne," he said.
" There's nothing to this thing. Any Jury in
the world will take your word."
"But the scandal, Spense!"
If his smile was wry the tears In her eyes
prevented her from analysis.
" I guess we can outlive any scandal that's
based on untruth," he told her.
"Then well go down and teU him?" she
breathed.
"Don't you be afraid," he said.
" I'm not" she told him.
And, amazingly, It was true. Now that
the crisis was at hand, now that nothing In
the world could prevent the world from
knowing that she had been In the Cresthill
Inn, had witnessed the murder, she was un
afraid. Because she had done no wrong.
True, she had helped Rosa escape, but there
was no moral wrong, she felt in that
Oh, if she had had courage before! Cour
age to face a scandal that. In the light of
what confronted her now, had been nothing
at all; courage that would have made her
receive and believe Bourke's explanation of
that long-ago party at "Summertime." She
would never have married Halsey . . . But
no! She had been so afraid of being smirched,
ever so slightly, that she had sent the man
that she loved from her.
Once, she had had courage; when she "sent
Halsey from her. But It had been the cour
age of desperation, and she had been, oh,
so glad, that scandal had been spared her.
Courage! It was all that was necessary to
have sent Halsey whining away from her
house last Tuesday.
Courage! It was all that she needed now.
And she had it! Thank God she had learned,
even at the great price that she must pay,
the price of notoriety, of scandal, of a trial,
perhaps, that only that which we fear can
hurt us. Unafraid, conscious of our own
honesty, nothing can harm us.
At last she knew this. She smiled as she
L took her husband's arm.
"Spense," she said softly, "can you ever
forgive me for dragging you Into this
dreadful affair?"
N He laughed at her. Though he himself
was sick at heart It was for her, not even
In any faint measure for himself.
"Forgive you? Why bless your sweet
heart there's nothing to forgive. You were
trying to keep me out of something unpleas
ant you know," he went on, and his voice
was suddenly grim, as she had guessed that
it might be, "If you had told me before I
went to Chicago, the result would have been
the same. Halsey would have been killed."
She shuddered. For another moment she
lay in his arms; then, gently, she released
herself. She needed no support from her
husband's arm now. She was strong, confi
dent fearless..
Together they entered the Uvlng room.
"Where are the statuettes?" demanded
Jenkins. He looked from one to the other.
Mrs. Bourke was a beautiful woman, one of
the most beautiful, with her black hair, olive
skin, and gray eyes, that Jenkins had ever
seen. There was only one flaw In an other
wise almost perfect specimen of femininity;
she was cold. Her eyes always seemed a bit
too appraising, as though she were forminf
Judgments that would not be expressed, as
though she might have reservations which
one would never know.
But now, beside her husband, there was
warmth in her eyes; her color came and
went. He knew how natural it was, now.
She had been a statue before, to the eyes of
Jenkins; a rarely lovely statue, it was true,
but not more than that But now she was a
woman, alive, warm. ... He felt envy for
Bourke. It a girl like that would look hit
way. . . . Well, some day . . .
"Where are the statuettes?" he demanded
again. t
And now he seemed to sense something
tense, something strange. In the atmosphere.
He felt suddenly embarrassed. Had he. In
some way, offended either or both of them?
Why did they stare at him so oddly?
"Allayne has something to say to you,"
said Bourke. His voice was strained. Jen
kins felt the color burning his cheeks, even
his throat If Mrs. Bourke had something
to say to him, why make such an event of
It? Had he he racked his memory. Had
he said something Incautious about some
friend? Had he been offensive In one of
those unwitting ways against which we can
not guard? He tried to make his voice as
light as It should be, as he replied,
" I shall be delighted to have Mrs. Bourk
say anything to me."
And then Ifuku, that Jap of all trades, who
could buttle, or cook, or answer the bell, or
wash automobiles, and who would, doubtless,
in the course of time command the navy or
army of Nippon, entered the room.
Motor car engines fascinated the young
Jap. He was studying. In spare moments,
hampered by an amazing lack of knowledge
of the English language, a book on the gaso
line engine. As a matter of fact, about all
that he could comprehend were the drawings
that Illustrated the text But whenever he
had opportunity to compare the drawings
with an engine Itself, he did so.
So, this afternoon, having washed the car,
with that rapidity of which only the Jap
seems capable, he lifted the hood on one side
to look at the mysterious source of power
underneath. And there, lying against the
cylinder, In exactly the place where, driven
by the wind, it had slipped through a long
ventilating slit In the engine cover, was an
envelope.
Ifuku picked It up and looked at it He
knew the printed alphabet, and a few words.
But long-hand writing was as yet lncom
prehensible to him. So he put the envelope,
somewhat stained by oil. Into his pocket
Then, closing the hood, after a long affection
ate stare at the engine, he went Into th
house.
Long after Allayne would wonder whether
or not chance directed Ifuku's eyes to the
engine, whether blind luck was responsible
for his entrance into the living room Just
as confession trembled on her lips. And she
decided that neither chance, nor fate, nor
luck call it what you will had anything
to do with It She decided that the spirit
is ruled by laws as absolute, as inevitable,
as the laws that govern the changing sea
sons, the movements of the tides, the growth
of the grass. Courage and fear: the two
great qualities of humankind. Who fears,
suffers; who does not cannot suffer.
No longer did she fear; courage had com
to her; and so, because she no longer feared,
the danger that she had dreaded vanished,
For Ifuku bowing, Bald:
" Letter for lady. In car."
She glanced swiftly down at It Her brain
seemed to swell until she thought that her
skull could no longer confine It Then, with
a smile, she handed the letter to Spenser.
He looked at It Their eyes met; from on
to the other, as clearly as though they had
spoken the words, flashed the message, " The
only proof.1" For the envelope was addressed
to the Chief of Police of Hlllstown!
Each glanced at Jenkins; he was still star
ing at them, puzzled. They could tell that
he had not heard the Jap's words.
" Another darned catalogue," said Bourke,
Allayne's eyes dropped to his fingers. With
apparent impatience he tore the envelope in
half. Then he walked to the open fire, burn
ing merrily, and dropped the pieces of paper
Into the blaze. Almost Instantly they were
consumed.
"Well, what has Mrs. Bourke to say to
me" demanded Jenkins.
Over Allayne's face swept a smile such as
Jenkins had never seen before. It was,
though he did not know it the smile of a
soul released from torment
" To say to you why why Mr. Jenkins
-Spense and I upstairs we decided we
forgot all about the statuettes."
She blushed divinely. And Rannie Jenkins
there and then decided that he wouldn't wait
to run across a girl like Mrs. Spenser Bourke.
He'd go looking for one. Marriage was a
darned nice thing!
tCopjiirht: 18S1 : Br Arthur Soman Bocha
f
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