PAGE SIX
IDEATH^IMAHOR
BY f\/j ' CO F\ tyE. - CENTRAL PRESS ASSOCIATION
READ THIS FIRST:
Elsie Ritter, a beauty shop operator,
taking the place of her friend, Kitty,
for a week in the private salon of Mrs.
Horace Witherspoon. Sr., is disturbed
by queer things she finds and odd peo
ple she meets at the Manor, the lux
urious Witherspoon home. She finds
her employer is an eccentric old wom
an with sadly misplaced vanity. Sue
meets her granddaughter. Daphne: her
daughter-in-law; Della Craig, an ac
tress, who is a house guest, and the
various servants of the household. Elsie
overhears a violent argument between
Daphne and her mother, during which
the girl criticizes her grandmother.
After meeting some of the other house
guests. Elsie gives a manicure to old
Mrs. Witherspoon’s sister, who con
verses in riddles. While Mrs. Wither
spoon, Sr., is under one of the four
hair driers in the salon, Phil, Elsie s
friend, drops in to see her and tele
phones from downstairs. Elsie goes
down to see him.
(NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY)
CHAPTER TEN
“LORDY!” I shot up like a jack
in-the-box when the kitchen clock
struck ten. “I’ve been sitting here
half an hour! Mrs. Witherspoon
will give me what for!”
“Oh, let the old gal sizzle!” Phil
was unconcerned; it was not his
job.
“I have to go,” I insisted. “May
be if you’d ask me, I could come
into town tomorrow night.”
He grinned. “O. K., I'll ask you.
Run along to your rich old lady,
sweet.”. And he leaned over and
kissed the tip cf my nose. "I'll give
you a ring tomorrow.”
“All right.” I kissed him once
for good measure and flew up the
stairs.
“I'm awfully sorry to have kept
you waiting.” I began breathless
apologies as I untied the hood of
the drier and lifted it upward.
“I—” A shriek, long drawn-out
like that of a locomotive whistle
at a grade crossing split the air.
It was myself screaming again
and again as the limp, lifeless body
of Mrs. Witherspoon fell face for
ward upon my breast!
For one agonized second I stood
frozen. The noise of the drier like
a giant plane motor roared in my
ears. Louder, louder, louder! A
faint odor of bitter almond reached
my nostrils. I sneezed, I swayed, I
pitched downward to the floor.
* * *
When I opened my eyes I was
lying on the black and silver divan
in the salon lobby. Through a mist
I saw the moving figures of a man
and a woman. I tried to speak.
Nausea overwhelmed me. I was
going to be sick. Someone held a
basin before me, and then someone
wiped my face with a cold cloth.
Presently the mist cleared. Mrs.
Greely, her face flushed, wai bend
ing over me.
“Better now?” Her voice came
from an immeasurable distance.
“Better.” The effort to speak
sent a wave of pain through ms
head.
“You’ll be all right scdp."
i: “She did it! She did it!” A sr.;.
ways°h3 shown ot T^^ n^f ra i di ° room of t^le 74-passenger clipper plane built for Pan-American Air
liner. At the navigation °? t^ie huge Boeing ship is as spacious as the bridge of an ocean
first and second pilots’posts aV« avich ’ chief of f° rei £ n a * r carrier inspection. Talking between the
and standing beside him is ra^f eS i> PI Jl 0t E ’ T - Al ’ cn and J. E. Boudwin. At the radio desk is Earl Ferguson,
u standing oesme him is Capt. R. 0 . Sullivan, of Pan-American’s Atlantic division. There will baaix
ipper Bhips like this for service above both oceans. (Central Press)
For one agonizing second I stood frozen.
ond voice shrill and strained
screamed the words. Eliza moved
into focus. She loomed above me,
tall and forbidding; she pointed an
accusing finger in my direction.
“Eliza—please!” a man said
tiredly, and I knew that Mr. Hor
ace was in the room.
“I tell you she did it!” Eliza
would not be hushed. “She stole
the emeralds!”
“The emeralds!” repeated Mr.
Horace stupidly. “What emer
alds?”
“She knows!” The maid’s face
was livid with hatred. “She
watched me put them on the ta
ble. She knows!”
“What is she saying?” Mr. Hor
ace was utterly bewildered.
"Mrs. Witherspoon’s jewels,” I
faltered. “They were on the ta
ble —”
“You stole them! After she w T as
dead you stole them!” Eliza
laughed hysterically. “You robbed
the dead!” *
“The dead?” I stared at her.
“Mrs. Witherspoon is—is dead?”
“Yes —yes, she is dead,” Mr.
Horace said dully. “Mother is
dead.”
He groped for a chair and sank '
heavily into it. His face was ashen;
he looked ten years older than the
little man who had come into the
salon—was it only this evening—
to ask his mother a question, a
question which would remain un- i
asked and unanswered!
“Poor mother!” His voice i
cracked slightly. “The excitement!
of the ball was too much for her.” j
“She died —in there?” I mo-1
tioned to the anteroom. I saw that j
someone had drawn the silver cur-;
tains tightly together.
“In there,” replied Mrs. Greely;
gravely, as one sneaks of death. j
“And I fainted?” !
She nodded. “Eliza found you on ;
the floor—the two of you.” i
“Thief!” shrieked Eliza, and!
burst into a paroxysm of weeping, j
I shuddered, seeing again thati
shapeless bundle in the bright-col
ored kimono as it had toppled to
ward me.
Eliza’s awful weeping filled the
room.
“When—w r hen did she die?” My
voice was a whisper.
“You don’t kijow?” Mr. Horace
regarded me curiously. “But you
were there!”
j I swallowed with an effort. “No,”
; I said. “No. I was downstairs in
j the pantry."
{ ‘‘ln the pantry?” I think he
| thought I had gone suddenly daft.
“What were you doing in the pan
“ She was hiding the emeralds,
that’s what she was doing!'* Eliza
uncovered swollen face,
j “Mrs. t r.-.'.y," he motioned to
‘.he hcr.rckt;'- per, "will you ' take
Joan to her roorv. Mvh sne has
nc to ’ A.:O hc rotbed his
.•: i. c;;a . o.s.vveen liis eyes as
In Control Room of Giant Clipper
HENDERSON, (N. C.) DAILY DISPATCH WEDNESDAY, WSCEMUER 28,1938
though he, too, were in danger of
sudden collapse.
“Very well, sir.” Mrs. Greely
placed her arms about the maid’s
shaking shoulders. “Come, Eliza!”
“And now, Miss Ritter,” Mr.
Horace continued when they had
gone, “perhaps you had better ex
plain.” His voice trailed uncertain
ly. I felt a wave of pity for him.
He was so obviously unfit to cope
with the situation.
“Mr. Witherspoon!” I leaned to
ward him. ”1 didn’t steal the em
eralds. You must believe me!”
“The emeralds! Oh, yes! I had
forgotten.” He smiled wearily.
“You must forgive me. My moth
er’s death —”
“Os course—of course,” I said
softly. I was conscious of a feeling
of mild surprise at the evidence of
his deep grief. Mrs. Witherspoon,
in my opinion, had not been one to
imspire great love. Perhaps, I
thought, perhaps he was remem
bering her as she must have been
in her younger days; perhaps ho
had already forgotten the garru
lous tyrant with whom I had had
such brief and unpleasant contact.
Death, I was aware, drew a veil
over life, softening its harshness
and stern reality.
“She has been ill for many
years,” he said suddenly, as if
thinking aloud. “Again and again
I begged her to consult a physi
cian, but she refused. She disliked
speaking of illness; she wanted to
remain forever young and strong.
I—l tried to persuade her to post
pone this affair tonight. She would
not. And now she is dead; The ex
citement was too much for her
worn heart.”
“Yes,” I nodded. “She looked
badly.”
The son sighed. “She and a full
:ife, a very full life.” He fixed his
eyes blankly upon the ceiling.
“Mr. Witherspoon!” I hated to
foist my own affairs upon the lit
tle man, but I had to get the busi
ness of the missing jewels settled.
“Yes, Miss Ritter?”
“I didn’t touch the emeralds.”
“Now, now,” for the first time
he looked directly into my eyes,
"you must not worry,” he said
kindly. “No one accuses you.”
“Eliza accuses me.”
“Eliza is not herself. My moth
er’s death has upset her. She was
very fond of mother. I am sure
that we will find the jewels. They
may have been mislaid.!’
“Thank you.” I was near to
tears. “I really never had my
hands on them. Eliza laid them on
| the table and they were there all
the time I was shampooing Mrs.
■ Witherspoon's hair and setting the
[ wave. I remember how Spar
j kied in the light. But”—l had -a
i sudden inspiration—“but I didn’t
j see them when I came back up
' stairs. Perhaps I was too excited.”
(To Be Continued)
Bulkley Packs Up
Defeated Democrat Senator Robert
Bulkley, of Ohio, packs up papers in
his Washington office. He was
beaten by Robert Taft, Republican,
who is being mentioned as a presi
dential possibility.
Bares Munitions Deal
Frederick Wingersky, Boston at
torney and a vice president of Mc-
Kesson & Robbins, told investi
gators in New York of huge $50,-
000,000 gun-running scheme which
“F. Donald Coster” allegedly at
tempted to engineer. He said 2,000,-
000 rifles were- to be shipped to
Spain through an English oil firm.
f
Best Dressed
> . f§| s :
Ml
.* * i
' !
Mme. Antenor Patino, wife of the;
Bolivian minister to London, is pic-;
tured above. She was named by
Paris fashion moguls as the best
dressed woman of 1938. Last
year’s leader, the Duchess of Wind
sor, was second.
Off to See Kaiser
Dr William C. Huebener, a Cincin
nati Ohio, heart specialist, is pic
tured as he sailed from New York
to visit former Kaiser Wilhelm at
Doom Netherlands. The physician
refused to reveal the nature of
his mission.
Mrs. Millaru Tydings (left), wife of the U. S. senator from Maryland, arriving in New York from a Eure,
pean vacation with the senator, topped off her winter ensemble with a neat hat of ornithological thorns. A...
right, Raymond Massey, who portrays Abraham Lincoln in a Broadway stage hit, greets his son, Godfrey
upon the icy’s arrival on vacation from studies in England. (Central
Mussolini Is Popular With the Girls
Opening a new distillery at Ciampino, near Rome, to increase Italy’s wine production, Premier Benito
Mussolini is greeted by cheering and clapping girls. (Central Press)
The President’s Yuletide Plea for Peace
mk ML . : tmmmm
* *- • .« „ . * •
President Franklin D. Roosevelt is pictured as he pressed the button which illuminated the Christmas \
tree at the White House while his son James, and Mrs. Roosevelt looked on. Between James and the Presi- r
dent’s wife, in the background, is Harry L. Hopkins, new Secretary of Commerce. Ia his speech Roosevelt
'ijy renewed pledges for “peace to all the world.” ( Central Press )
Where 7 Army Men Died in Air Blast
SBgp|Hpppr 9hH|
and looked forward to Yule celebrations with famitilt «nH t 5!- P s”®’ army . men who were on a routme
explosion which eS . and . friends ' were »»stantly killed. The cause of the
•xpicsion which shattered the plane has net yet been determined. (Central Press)