St. Helens mist., March 26, 1915, HOME AND FARM MAGAZINE SECTION, Page 10, Image 16

10
nOME AND FARM MAGAZINE SECTION
The Mystery of
THE clock and tho telephone
sounded together and I looked
up from one of Wilkie Collins'
ghostliest psychologies whir a start
at tho curious medley.
The clock said half-past eleven.
What the telephone had to communi
cate remained to be seen.
"Hello!"
"Oh. John! Is that you. John?"
The voice was shrilly nervous, terror
stricken, wholly unfam'liar.
I essayed to reply that my name
is not John, but the voice, unheeding,
cut me short.
"Oh, Johu come quick!" It al
most shrieked. "Hurry! Hurry!
There's somebody In the next room
some thler. 1 heard him break In
and I'm all alone. Oh, John he's
coming In here. Police! Help!
J O 1 1 N ' '
The last whs a wall of abject fear
and horror. There came the sound of
an oath, a scream broken sharply in
two then silence.
For a moment my brain throbbed
with excited, futile queries. Then 1
rattled the telephone hook and a
voice snapped out: "What is It,
Plense?" j
"What number did I have Just
nowT"
"I can't tell. They've huiiR up."
"Fiiid out? A woman is being
murdered there. QUICK!"
At once I saw my mistake. Instead
of stimulating the operator to intelli
gent action I confused her utterly.
She could only stammer, tdlotirullv:
"I can't I don't know they've hung
up.
"Think hard." I urged. "What
number did they call for when you
gave them mine?"
"Isn't this llrown 4383?"
No, I said, "get that number.
QUICK.
"The lines must have crossed,
then," said Central perplexedly.
"Hold your phone and I'll try."
For ' five solid minutes she rang
J - o . ... . .
iniornung me tremulous
ly every 30 seconds that she was try
ing to get my "party." Just as the
case seemed hopeless a faint "hello"
came over the Hue.
"Are you, John?" I bawled, my
woras tumbling over each other. Ills
reply was unintelligible, but I wailed
for no confirmation. "Go home at
once," I told him. "Get a taxlesb.
Beat it. Your wife's being killed by
burglars."
I could hear him gasp.
"Why I haven't any wife," he
said in stuttering bewilderment. "I'm
the night-watchman."
"What place is thlR?"
"Bradley & Jones' law office."
"Is either of them named John."
"I dou't wait a minute. Yes
John H. Bradley."
"I don't know."
Bang! went my receiver on the
hook. My fingers raced through the
telephone directory. Bradley, Brad
ley yes, there it was: "John P.
Bradley, residence, 19 Pacific
street."
Should I Btop to notify the police?
No, enough time had been wasted al
ready. I rushed out, gathering my
hat and coat in transit.
Only after an almost empty car was
bearing me toward my destination did
I realize the difficulties of my task.
I was going to rescue a ladv from
burglars without even a walking
stick for a weapon. Oh, well, I had
never gone armed and out of manv
trying situations I had alwav's
emerged the better for it.
About five minutes' walk brought
me to 19 Pacific street. It was in
a block where the wealthy and well-to-do
mingled in architectural har
mony with scarcely a line of demarca
tion. One might have said the de
cline was gradual. A hugo brown
Btone mansion with porte cochere and
with carved liona flanking the marble
steps, occupied about one-third of
the block. No. 19, on the opposite
end. was extremely modest bv com
parison, but not without the dignity
of established financial position.
As I stood there, cogitating, cast
ing a quick glance about mo and try
ing to size up the situation as my
friend Sherlock Holmes might have
done, I saw that the front, door was
ever so slightly ajar. A careless and
almost successful attempt had been
made to shut It, but the latch had
caught and held it Just beyond the
locking point. A thread of light
showed dimly at its edges. I pushed
It open, softly and entered.
Not without hesitation I advanced
stealthily toward the light. The door
opened out toward me and I found
that I could get a fair view of the
Interior through the crack between
the hinges.
At a table In what was evidently
the study sat a large, good-looking
man with a young if not youthful
the Phone Call
face. He wore an overcoat and one
hand was gloved as though he hud
Just come lu. There was lu his face
and manner a befuddled and desper
ate amazement, a look of urbane in
toxication suddenly confronted with
a crisis u shock that Is like a slap
in the face.
He read and reread, with a silent
movement of the Hps, a sheet of writ
lug paper. It looked like a womau's
note. When he bud finished the in
ner page reading It at right angles.
as one must with such epistles he
would turn buck to the beginning and
sturt all over aguin. And thou, with
sudden spasmodic force the fingers
of his ungloved hand closed over the
sheet, crushing It Into a ball. Ills
head sunk forward on the crook of
his arm and something like a sob
escuped him. lie was quite sober,
now.
For a mlnule or so he remained
thus. Then he sprung to his feet and
pulled himself together. 1 could see
his Juw set and his hands clench
themselves, lie walked quite steadily
to the buffet and poured himself a
gluss of liquor. Itetiirnlng to the
table, he rummaged about in the
drawers impatiently, found what lie
sought, and laid It on the table a
revolver.
Next he brought a decanter and
glust". which he set down beside the
weapon, and resumed his chulr. Very
deliberately he removed his glove, fell
In his left trousers pocket and nro-
duced a silver coin. For the first
time he spoke.
'leads for him and talis for me,"
he cried with a sort of nervous ex
uberance. "Heads for him and tails
for me."
He tossed the coin. It fell with a
musical tinkle against the decanter,
wobbled a moment, and then fell flut.
"Heads," he said. I saw him loot;
at the revolver with a savage relish
that seemed to bode III for some one.
He took another drink.
Again he flipped the coin. It fell
with a solid thwack and he grimaced
a bit as he read its meaning.
"Tails!" he exclaimed. "Tails -that's
me."
Once more he refilled his glass and
gulped it. This lime he held the coin
on the end or his finger as though
loath to let it go. Ho luld it down
finally and picked np the ball or
paper. Carefully he strnlghtened ont
the sheet and reperused it. Once
more he picked up the coin.
"Best two out of three," he said
with a wry little laugh. "Here goes."
He spuu the coin and for an Intol
erable time It seemed to rotate, dying
down gradually In Us motion and ti
tling itself with an odd little flap
Just beyond the muazle of the re
volver. The man did not speak, but
I saw from his face the verdict. It
was death.
I edgod around the door at that
and jumped for him Just as he got
the gun to Ills head. We scuffled a
bit and the bullet went luto the cell
ing. The noise of It startled us both.
His fingers relaxed nnd I took the
gun from him easily enough. Or
dinarily be could have thrown me
out of the window without much
trouoie, but tho inertia of reaction
was upon him. He leaned half list
lessly ngalnHt the mantel and sur
veyed me In astonishment.
'VV'lio the devil are you?" he asked.
"My name is of no consequence,"
I told him. "My presence I shall try
to explain. I assume that you are
John Bradley."
"Yes." he said, gravely, "I am
John Bradley. nt I'm not In the
habit of receiving unknown callers at
midnight '
"Nor are you In the habit of at
tempting suicide, I dare say."
"Whoever you ore," he said, "you
have saved my life. That it is worth
less does not lessen the decency of
your action. I thank you and beg
your pardon."
"Whatever I did you are welcome
to," I told him. "I came here to res
cue a woman in danger "
His eyes narrowed. "A woman in
danger," he repeated slowly. "What
are you an evangelist?"
I stared at him. Wag his mind un
settled? "Well, no matter," he continued.
In any event you're too late."
"Do you meant that she's dead?"
I cried, aghast.
"I wish It might have been that."
he answered unsteadily. "Read the
letter there on the table. I owe you
an explanation, anyhow."
A glance was sufficient. She had
left him. She had gone with a friend
and "all was over."
"Perhaps." I Buid and I rather eT
pected him to hit me for It "peruana
she wasn't worth It."
"She wasn't to blame," he said
gently. "It was my cursed drinking
and neglect of her that and the
other man. lie lined to love her bu
fore she married me."
"If I'd been half a man I'd have
held her," he said. "She never cared
much for him and she loved me.
But I worked too hard and left them
too much alone. 1 wanted to be
rich."
In a sudden paroxysm of anger he
plrked up the decanter nud hurled It
Into the fireplace. It shivered, mu
sically, into fragments and the liquor
sputtered and flared.
"Whatever liappeus I'm through
with that," said John Bradley. "You
hear it? So help mo (?od!"
lu the meantime I had been think
ing. A queer, Impossible Idea had
popped Into my head as I thought of
the telephone cull for aid. I walked
over and put a hand on Bradley
shoulder. I
Huve yon looked through the
house?" 1 asked.
He Btured. "Looked through the
house? For what?
"Your wife."
w hy, no, he answered, uncom
prehending. "Shu's gone gone for
good. She's left me. Didn't you read
the note?"
"Yea." I said, "but it's barely pos
sible that she was prevented - that
she wrote the letter in anticipation of
her departure and then "
."And then what?" In Heaven's
name!"
"Where Is the telephone?" I
snapped.
"There's one In the corner, behind
you," he replied dazedly, "and an
other in her boudoir, upstairs."
I gripped bis arm. "Show me the
other phone," I said excitedly.
"There's Just a chance "
"Of whut?" he asked, but I did not
answer. He led the Way Into the
front hall and switched on the lights.
I'p the stairway he went, two steps
at a time, and I folio, ed close bo
hind around a turn und through an
open door. It was dark there and he
struck a match to look for the chan
delier switch. Hut as the tiny flume
flared up 1 beard him cry out and go
down on his knees, muttering frantic
endeiirmentit. 1 felt around for the
witch aud found It. flooding the
room with a soft radluneo that fil
tered through rose-colored shades.
Flat on the floor lay a woman
gnrtMd for the street. Kvldently she
had swooned from flight or some
other emotion, for there was no sign
of Injury. The room was in disorder.
Drawer were pulled out, some of
their contents hanging over the edge
or tumbled on the floor. A Jewel
cuse lay inverted on the writing desk.
as though hastily emptied. Near the
door wus a small brooch, broken, evi
dently trampled on.
Bradley was working over his wife
Ith frantic energy, chafing her
wrists. loosening her collar and call
ing her name aloud. I got a gluxa of
water at the washatand and let a
small stream trickle on her forehead.
Almost immediately her eyelids flut
tered and a moment later she was In
her husband's arms, sobbing, "Oh, I'm
so glad you tame. I m so glad, so
I tried to get away without being
seeu, out before I renclied the door
sne noticed me and riled out.
startled, "Who'i that, John? Who's
ttml?"
"A friend or mine," he said sooth
Ingly. "Ho ratue along to help."
"Wo didn't know how many burg
lars there were, you see," I put in
'Oh, yes, she said. "You were at
John's office when I called up.
weren't you? Yon anfwered the
Phone. I thought It didn't sound like
John's voice but I was too fright
ened.
Mie lay In an eusy chair where
Jonn bad put her. almost dreamltv
relaxed. But suddeuly a uew terror
sprang Into her eyes. Her glance met
uer nusDuaU s, tensely searching.
"John." she cried, "have you been
in the study?"
He did not falter a moment. "No,"
ue snta. I came right up. But Jones
had quite an adventure with the
uurgiur down mere." Ha looked hard
at me.
"Yes," I said, "we scuffled In the
uuru ana ne llred a shot. We broke
the decanter and spilled Ink all over
a letter or something. I hope U
wusn't valuable, for It was quite ob
literated. I threw It Into tho flro."
She flashed me a look of keen In
quiry, but I was looking at John.
"Probably a bill," he said care
lessly. "Well, goodnight, old man
I'll never forget thla. Never!"
He held out his hand and I pressed
It warmly.
"Good night. Mrs. Bradley," I said.
She did not bear me. Her eyes, lum
inous with tenderness and mute
thanksgiving, were fixed upon Urnd-
I was no longer In her scheme of
things. I,ouls j. Stelluiunn, In the
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