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IfiMf BLACK fl knight x i Elsa Chatfleld, Hollywood artist, la dla- Inherited by her Aant Kitty, who died , from BO overdose of morphine. Hani ' Rogere and Barry Madison go to Mazat- Lan, Meilco, to aolve what they believe to be Kitty Chatfleld'a murder. On ar rival they find that Elsa'i party had pre ceded them by plane. During a fiesta at tfee ranch of Elsa'a father, Sam Chat- Held, Jamea Cheaebro la murdered. Lom bardo, chief of Mexican police, quel ttona Pedro, the pulque man, who la required to IdenUfy the alayer. Pedro, itar witness, etcapea during re-enact ment of the murder. Search for him li made in the mountain country. Lom bardo arreata Reed Barton on auiplcloa at murdering Cheaebro. CHAPTER XII i "Buenos dias, senores," he said la Spanish, including the guard in his greeting. The latter saluted. Sam Chatfleld reached an impulsive arm through the bars to shake hands with Reed. "I'm sorry, Barton," he said in English. "I came as 60on as I heard the news. Drove tn at once. There must be some mistake—unless you've confessed that you did it?" Reed Barton grinned. "Hardly that, Mr. Chatfield. I didn't kill Chesebro." "That's good. Have they treated you all right?" "Very well, indeed; no com plaint." "I rather think there'll be no cause for complaint, Barton. I'll use my influence, of course. Berta and I have powerful friends, and we'll see that you are comfortable so long as you are here. Which I hdp« will not be long." "Thank you, Mr. Chatfield. That's very kind of you." Sam Chatfield thrust his short arm again through the bars and took Reed's hand in a vigorous grip. Rogers and I likewise shook hands with the prisoner, and with assurance that we would stand by him, we took our departure together with Sam Chatfleld. On the sidewalk outside, however, we separated after a brief ex change. Hunt and I went aboard the Ori zaba to discover that Dwight and Margaret were absent in the launch; the sailing master pointed it out to us well up in the Estero del Astillero, but headed back in our direction. It came eventually along side, and Margaret and Dwight climbed up the ladder to the deck. "No luck!" said Margaret weari ly, looking up to espy the two of us leaning over the rail. "Dwight's lit tle playmate ran away from us." "I'll say he ran away from us. No strike; no sign; no anything. Saw him break water just once. This is no place, of course, to go fishing for marlin. I guess that particular one wandered into the bay by mis take." He stepped upon the deck and leaned his rod against the rail. It was Margaret who detected some thing unusual in our manner. "What's happened?" she demand ed. Dwight looked sharply at us at her question as if to discover the reason for it. "Any new development about last night?" he inquired. "Rather an awkward development —for Reed Barton," Rogers replied, rubbing the side of his large nose with a forefinger. "What? Tell us." "Reed's in jail, charged with the murder of Chesebro." Rogers hastened to explain why Reed Barton was in jail, giving them an account of our search for Pedro, the pulque seller, and our visit to Lombardo. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" exclaimed Margaret when he was done. "That's bad luck. I wonder what Elsa thinks about it." "I don't know whether she knows It or not," I said. "Sam Chatfield didn't say, when we were talking with him." "We'll find out, of course, when Elsa comes on board this after noon," said Margaret. "We're real ly going fishing tomorrow, you know—" A hail from the water drew us to the ladder, and Margaret, who was closest, waved both arms in wel come, and called out excitedly: "Oh, hello! So glad you could come. But—why didn't we send the launch for you? Why, we could just as well as not. I'm sorry." Greetings from several voices be low responded, and, looking over the rail, I discovered a boat contain ing Berta and Elsa, and on the seat behind them Sam Chatfleld and George Rumble, the ltftter wearing his black sombrero with its silver tdmming which glittered in the aft ernoon sun. "It's Reed, of course," Elsa said dispiritedly in answer to my com ment as I gave her a hand at the top of the ladder. "We'll have him out In no time," I comforted her. "That's what Papa says too, but I'm afraid, Barry." To what lengths of extravagant promise I might have gone at that moment Til never know, for with a sudden, bewildering sound of break ing water, a huge silvery dark flsh le'aped from the bay not fifty feet from the Orizaba's sleek sides, saared almost even with the rail in its mighty leap and fell back with a re-sounding crash. I could hear the ■lap of his gill% so close was ha; almost, I fancied, I could smell him. "Come on, you fishermen I" shout ed Dwight, making for the ladder. The rowboat had sheered off, its native owner rowing as if for his life, and those of us flow intent upon the pursuit poured into the launch, across which the occupants of the rowboat but a few moments before had had to clamber to reach the Orizaba's ladder. The launch had been rigged for swordfishing. Two leather-cushioned swivel chairs were mounted side by side in the stern of the boat. There were seats behind these for those not engaged in trying for marlin, or who were content to fish over the side. Sam Chatfleld had climbed into the seat beside Dwight. He was endeavoring to disengage a rod rigged with heavy tackle which lay alongside on the floor. I helped him with it. George Rumble sat be side me, his huge black sombrero crushed down upon his round skull, so that it would clear the awning overhead. Dwight glanced up, his outfit ready, and for the first time looked about to see who had come along with him. He recognized Sam Chat "Look here, I'm not so keen on visiting that guy down at the jail." field at his side and smiled, then be came solicitous of his welfare. "Are you comfortable, Sam?" he asked. "Oh, yes; quite." Dwight half rose. "Take this seat, Sam. I think it is the better of the two." "No, thank you, Dwight. I prefer this side. As a matter of fact, I'm going to ask you now if I may sit here tomorrow on our little jaunt up the coast." "You certainly may, Sam. Take whichever side is most convenient for you." Rumble removed his huge black sombrero to let the breeze cool his head; his dark oily hair lay close to his round skull. He dropped the hat at our feet where it lay beside a small wrench. Rumble eyed the latter for a moment, then picked it up and turned it thoughtfully about in his hands. Sam Chatfield finished baiting the huge number twelve hook at the end of its steel wire leader, took a firm grasp on his rod and made a cast, sinking back into his chair, which creaked under the strain. My gaze for the moment was on George Rumble; there was an odd look in his eyes. He was not inter ested in the cast; his attention seemed to center upon the straining swivel mechanism underneath Sam Chatfield's seat. His gaze came back to the wrench in his hands. He turned it about, then of a sudden dropped it beside his sombrero as if the metal had suddenly become hot. Looking back on that evening ashore in Mazatlan, I now can see how freighted it was with tragedy, but It began and ended, apparently, as only a gay adventure. Berta and Margaret remained on board the Orizaba; Elsa, George Rumble and I went ashore together In the launch. Dwight, Rogers and Sam Chatfleld had not been ready to go with us, and the launch returned for them. Elsa had only one purpose, and that to go to the jail to see Reed Barton. She kept pushing us along until finally Rumble halted at a street corner and said, "Look here, I'm not so keen on visiting that guy down at the jail." "You don't have to go if you don't want to," Elsa retorted. "That guy probably isn't interested in seeing you, either." "That settles it, sweetheart," Rumble replied in his husky voice. "Nothing like speaking your mind. I'll see you later." "Where?" demanded Elsa. "How do I know? I'm going to the THE DANBURY REPORTER, DANBURY. N. C.. THURSDAY, APRIL 27, 1944 hotel and get my things together. Margaret's orders. See you on the boat, anyhow, if not before." Rumble stood on the street cor ner, a curious figure in a yet more curious throng of native life. "Goodby," said Elsa. "Goodby, sweetheart." The jail, standing in all its medi ocrity close by the church, its scal ing, cracked, pseudo-Gothic exterior softened now by the night's warm shadows, seemed less an eyesore than in the hard light of the sun. "Elsa," I began, halting on the steps, "perhaps I'd better take you over to the hotel, and I'll call on Reed myself—" "Don't be silly," she said, advanc ing through the doorway with such precipitate energy that the splen did creature preening his mustaches leaped nimbly to one side to avoid being run down. But there was no Reed Barton in the jail. Elsa did not at first com prehend the information which was offered in response to our Inquiry, and neither did I. "Por que no?" she demanded in Spanish of the jail guard. "El hombre no esta aqui," the man replied. "No se por que no." "I hope they haven't taken him out and shot him," Elsa said, turn ing to me, an odd light in her gray eyes, which were now round with apprehension. "They do things like that." "Forget it," I said. "Your fa ther's influence probably got him out. Donde esta el hombre?" I in quired of the guard who in reply merely shrugged his shoulders, in dicating that he had no idea where Reed was to be found. We made our way to the plaza where I hoped the old, old Mexican custom once more was being ex hibited. But when we arrived only a handful of youthful caballeros en circled the kiosk, and a smaller number of senoritas were moving slowly, leisurely in the opposite di rection. One caballero, bolder than the rest, halted before his favorite and with a bow presented her with a flower. Round and round they went, while the band played the arias of "La Boheme." Motor cats were parked at the curb, a haven of parental refuge for any senorita who grew weary. "Pve seen this before," said Elsa after we had watched it for some moments. "I never realized until now, though, but I've been doing this same thing for years. Every girl has. Parading myself, my body, my soul, all that makes up the piti ful little me, hoping for the approval of some gay caballero." "Your gay caballero stands ab your right against the trunk of that tree." "Where?" Her head jerked sharp ly In the direction I indicated. Reed Barton stood leaning lightly, easily, against the tree as he gazed at the scene in the plaza. He pulled his watch from his pocket and looked at it, unmindful that we were near by. Elsa left me instantly and flew to greet him, and I walked over more sedately to congratulate him on his release. "Elsa had visions of your being stood against a wall at dawn and dying romantically to the rattle of musketry," I said. "Really?" He grinned, pocketing his watch. "Don't mind what he says," Elsa implored him. "But how did it happen, Reed?" I asked. "It was just one of those things," he said. "They came and opened the door to the cage and said to the bird within, 'Fly away, my sweet,' and I flew away to freedom." "As simple as that?" said Elsa with a sarcastic note in her voice. "What I think happened was that they discovered I was not just a peon who could be thrown into jail and forgotten. Perhaps your father helped, Elsa; perhaps the consul had something to do with it. Any way, it's nice to be out. Neither your father will accept my thanks, nor the consul; 'twas a mere noth ing. Glad to do it, and all that. Saw your father down the street • while ago, Elsa." "He was coming ashore—Oh— , you're going with us tomorrow." "Where and what?" "Fishing. You'll have to come aboard tonight with your things; | we're leaving early. And now—" | She halted, a wistful look io her ' level gray eyes. "Isn't there a dance ! going on somewhere tonight, Reed? Can't we dance and be romantic?" i "Oh, sure. There's a dance at | the hotel tonight. Come along and . observe the flower of Mexican youth. ' You'll see something I These little j kids here In the plaza with their hand-me-downs and New York mod els are a bit tawdry. The newer youth of Mexico is elsewhere.Com ing, Barry?" "Of course notP* Later I looked in upon the danc ers. Reed Barton was right; the flower of Mazatlan was present. Youth, In any land, of course, ii synonymous with beauty, but here it was to be found In extraordinary measure. I looked on for a while entranced, then wandered away. There was a crowd in the bar, and I stood for a while drinking the excellent beer. I wondered where Rogers was, where he had gone, and presently he came in and joined me. (TO BX CONTXNVSD) rFIRST-AID + to the AILING HOUSE By ROGER 9. WHITMAN Rofer B. Whitman—WNU F««tur«i. INSULATING ROOF Last fall one of my correspond ents insulated his roof. His first step was to line the under side of the roof between the rafters with tar paper, and then to put in four inches of rock wool. Before the winter was over, he found that the rock wool was dripping with mois ture. He asks how this can be pre vented. He seemed to think that the rock wool had the property of absorbing moisture; but this is not the case. The trouble came from the penetration of water vapor in the house air. Passing through the rock wool the water vapor came into contact with the tar paper, which of course, was chilled by the roofing boards. Condensation took place, and as the water that formed could not pass through, it was absorbed by the rock wool. He could prevent this by protecting the rock wool with something through which the water vapor could not pass. For this he could use hard and glossy tar paper, nailed to the exposed edges of the rafters. There would then be no condensation, for Ujis layer of tar paper would be protected against outside temperature by the thick ness of the rock wool. As a matter of fact, pads of rock wool and simi lar materials can be had enclosed in envelopes of tar paper. Had my correspondent protected his roof with these instead of the loose rock wool that he used, his trouble would have been avoided. • e • Stained Ceiling Question: After the last heavy rains the ceiling around the brick chimney showed brown stains. Where do the stains come from? Answer: The stains may be caused by leakage through the flash ings where the chimney passes through the roof. If the flashings prove to be in poor condition, you can close the leaks with a heavy coat of plastic roofing cement. An other possible reason for the leaks may be a failure of the mortar be tween the chimney bricks. If so, the bricks could be repointed. 0 m • STARCH FOR WALLS Question: I want to paint my ceil ings an oil-white. Then I would like | to starch each year and wash off. How would I go about it in detail? i Answer: The formula is as fol lows: Soften the lumps of a cup of laundry starch with cool water and add boiling water with constant stir ring until the starch is cooked and stiff. After cooling, add cold water to make a thin liquid, stir in one quart of buttermilk, and strain through cheese-cloth. Apply with a whitewash brush. Brush marks can be taken out by patting with a short bristle brush before the starch dries, • • • Damp House Air Question: We began building out house last September, and had tt move in December 1. Some furni ture was put in the attic and th« rest in the basement until the main floor rooms were ready about Christ mas time. Many of the roofing boards are mildewed and also books, furniture, and household things that stand on the north side of the attic. Who is to blame; the contractor or the roofer? Have the roofing boards been weakened by the mold? Answer: No one is to blame, ex cept yourselves for having moved into the house before the concrete and plaster had dried out With your heater going, water from these parts should be drying out very rapidly. But even so, the house air may not be thoroughly dry until some time next winter. I greatly doubt if the mildewing has gone far enough to damage the roofing boards. • e • Paint for Fireplace Question: We have an all-brick fireplace in our living room that 1 should like to paint. What kind of paint should I use? Answer: You can use a cement base paint, which is intended for masonry. It is a powder to be mixed with water, and it can be had in colors as well as in white. Ask for it at a mason material yard. I am presuming the brick never has been painted. IPATTERNSJL SEWING CIRCLE,, 8582 Jfllk Smart Throughout Day, TPHE sort of dress which oblig x ingly gets you through a whole day—looking pretty every minute of it! Make it in smart, wash able flower printed cottons for mid summer street wear—in cool and summery-looking sheer crepes for an afternoon frock. } ANOTHER I I I A General Quiz B ] The Queationa 1. Who was known as the mod ern iron man of baseball? 2. Can you name three promi nent movie stars with the surname of Powell? 3. The figures carved by Borg lum in the Mt. Rushmore memori al are scaled to the proportion of men how tall? 4. How many persons lost their lives in the great Chicago fire? 5. In what year was the Consti tution of the United States sub mitted to the people? 6. What dynasty was in power during the period that China was the foremost civilized power of the world? 7. What is the oldest known toy? 8. What is the vocation of a per son who vocally labored under a burden? The Anawera 1. Lou Gehrig. 2. William Powell, Eleanor Pow ell and Dick Powell. 3. Of men 465 feet tall. 4. About 300. 5. In 1787. 6. The T'ang dynasty. 7. The doll. 8. A singer. 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The Danbury Reporter (Danbury, N.C.)
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April 27, 1944, edition 1
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