gtm-. rJrSj.p p: Ha&iirtcj&m - Bradley’fj WAIU. SERVICE.' » feBatae^/w ^ /« CHAPTER XIV—Continued —12— “Well, she can’t get away,” said Donahey comfortably, shifting his cigar. “Better take a look round and see If there’s anything miss in'j.” Harrlden’s grip fell reluctantly from my arm. He then walked with slow step to the closet and looked within to see .If the Jewel box was safe. I saw ^ hlm bring it out, try the clasp. It was still locked. There are no words for the agony I felt. The sick mortification. Caught In my own folly. Then he came back and looked * Into the open dressing case and a sudden thought seemed to strike him. I saw his fingers move over the lining of the case as I had seen them move before. Then his face turned a dark, hideous red. He whirled about and stood over me, thrusting that swarthy, lower ing face into my own. “So that’s it, is it?" he said. His voice was terrible. “You give them back—do you hear?” "Is the key gone?” Donahey was asking, still thinking of the Jewel case. "Lost anything?” “Papers,” Harrlden ground out. t She took them . . , Inspector, she’s got a lot of papers on her. Search her, I tell you. Get them back at once.” “I haven’t any papers,” I said, with sincere thanksgiving that I hadn’t. “Search me, if you like,” and I made a wide gesture with one arm. I let the cat go and heard them putting It out. Then the meaning of It all came to me. The letters had been hid den there, as I surmised—now they were gone. The door had been ajar —he said he had shut it, and I had i'beard it slam as he and Mitchell had walked off. Some one had come in—Deck had come in and taken the letters. xmu was me explanation, i real ized belatedly, of Deck’s scene downstairs with Letty Van Alstyn —be bad been urging her to get Harrlden downstairs, knowing she would be only too glad to do it for the sake of her own desire to be with him. And I had never guessed, never suspected . . . Why hadn’t he rushed up to me and told me he was safe? But there had not been time; he had been pressed to dis pose of them, of course. And then I had blundered Into the room and tried to save him. In that moment I saw him, ap pearing suddenly at the crowded doorway, staring surprisedly at me over the crowd. I was afraid he would blurt out something Incrim inating himself In order to clear me. 1 didn't want him telling Har rlden to go to the devil, that he had taken him own letters and ■destroyed them—the scandal would be ineffaceable. I spoke out quickly, "I came In the room after the cat, Mr. Harrl den. I knew you did not want It to run In. And I was just going out when you came and found me— I was Just passing the table where this case happened to be.” “You were looking through that case! The cover was open, yon little crook—you’d got those letters out. . . I tell you. Inspector, I want her searched.” At mat moment a uauu ami through my arm and Monty Mitch ell was by my side. He was no taller than I, but be seemed a very tower of strength. I felt courage flowing into me through that friend ly touch. “You've gone crazy again, Dan,” be said curtly. “You’ve been hav ing too many drinks with Letty. You heard Miss Seton say she came In after the cat. She Is not Inter ested In your letters." “You mind your business," Harrl den retorted. “What’s Miss Seton to you?” “As It happens, we are engaged," said Monty Mitchell. “That’s what she Is to me.” An electric shock seemed to run through that room, but no one there was more completely astonished than l was myself. Involuntarily I looked about at him, and he gave me back a funny twinkle, bis fingers squeezing my arm. I thought what a comfort It would be to put my head down on his shoulder and sob out all my rage and disgust, but pride held my head high. “That isn’t true." I heard myself saying. “I don’t need to take ad vantage of Mr. Mitchell’s protec tion—of his wish ro establish a po sition for me. I have one of my own . I have taken nothing of Mr. Harrlden’s." “You’re a liar!” said Harrlden violently “I>nmn yon! 1 don’t care whether you’re Mitchell's fancy girl or not" V Mitchell struck him In the face. He leaped at him like a bull terrier at a mastiff. The blow caught Har rlden unprepared, and he reeled, a hand at his chin, then, with a chok ing sound he lunged at his assail ant With official agility Donahey’s big body intervened; Keller and young Watkins sprang to hold Dan. “Not here, Dan, not here—" Keller's reminder had Its weight Harrlden gave a queer look toward the bed, to that still, sheeted figure of his wife, and his arms fell. He drew a deep, convulsive breath. He addressed Donahey. "Who ever this girl is, she took those pa pers. She Is a thief and a black mailer. If they aren’t on her she has destroyed them. They were here when I left this room.’’ Involuntarily our heads turned to that fireplace but no flames danced there. The sight of the andirons explod ed something in my brain. It was as though some flash of lightning, the flash I had been waiting for, subconsciously, flung into Indelible brilliance the way before by strain ing vision. I spoke out, throwing all caution to the winds. “Ton’ll find blood on one of those andirons, Mr. Inspector. On the left hand one. It la Mrs. Harrl den’s blood ... It has been washed away, but It is still In tbe deep places . . . Sbe was killed by fall ing on it, by being thrown back upon it’’ In the stillness that descended on the room there was literally no sound. Then a voice came, Harriden’s voice, hoarsened, hardly distin guishable. “If you know—that— you did It—you—” “No, you,’’ I said. “When you struck at her the second time. When you followed her away from the window. It was you who struck at her at the window,” I went on. “You had come up early, though you denied this. Nobody remembered clearly enough to contradict you. Tou came to her room, you quar reled and then struck out at her. Sbe fled backwards and you struck at her again. Perhaps you struck her down, perhaps she fell trying to escape you, but she fell across the screen, knocking it over, and her head crashed on that andiron.” I wasn’t looking at him. I was looking at that sharp-pointed and iron, watching what I saw there. “She came down with all her weignt. i ou rusnea to araw the curtains. You lifted her up, car ried her into the closet Perhaps you thought she was already dead. She died very soon, her blood on that closet door . . . You wiped off the andiron with your handkerchief, you wet the handkerchief and washed over the andiron but more blood than you knew had run into the deep grooves of its decorations. Then you washed the handkerchief and left it drying on the radiator.” I spoke as if I were seeing it. I was seeing it; everything that had been confused and strange was sud denly crystallized and sure. “You were aghast, but you con centrated on your danger,” I said. You locked the closet and went in your room and dressed for din ner. Then you came back and rang for the maid. You stood at the door watching for her; you had darkened the room behind you. You told her not to disturb Mrs. Har riden." uui ouc saw my wue uu me bed. You’ve got her testimony to that!" Harrlden’a voice had loud ened; belligerence rang out of It. "People see what they expect to see,” I said. “The room was dark ened; you let her have a glance through the open door, then you closed It and went down to dinner." No one spoke them No one moved. “But you kept worrying about that body In the closet. Perhaps you hadn’t taken the diamonds then —perhaps you had, but you realized you hadn’t made It look enough like a robbery, like an assault from outside. You began seeing the situ ation. You thought of opening the window. So you went upstairs, half way through dinner, and when you were opening the window, you real ized you could make It look like suicide. So you took your wife out of the closet and thrust her out, down into the shrubbery. Perhaps you had seen the blood on the floor—” I stopped. I had a queer feel ing that I was wrong. 1 said, "I think you hadn't seen It—but you thought It wise to lock that closet till you could look It over, later. You locked It and came down again to dinner.” “You were thinking you could make it seem either accident or suicide and after dinner you asked the prlnceu to go up—you talked of a row between you, of her over wrought state of mind, of her hys terical threats. Ton created the Impression of a neurotic, Irrespon sible woman, ready for any rash ness . . . You didn’t want that closet opened. When Mrs. Keller had the housekeeper unlock It, you were quick to enter. You said there was nothing there. Then they found the blood. You realised you bad to make It look like robbery.” My voice grew slower, raggeder. “I don’t know when you picked up the dlhknonds—perhaps at the be ginning when you meant to make It seem the work of an outside thief. After you decided upon sui cide you didn’t speak of their dis appearance. But when you saw It bad to seem robbery, then you thought of them again.” It seemed to me that I had been talking forever In that world of shadows. Not a word now out of Harrlden. Not a sign from him except that Immobile attention. “I don’t know now why you pinned that chain In my dress that night," I said, and my voice shook over that “You were furious at me because I had told of the scene at the window . . . but you were hating Alan Deck even more” “Perhaps you saved out the big pendant intentionally from the first for him,” I said. “A man might have hidden a single stone . . . Your chance came when you found his case lying about. You stuffed the diamond under the cigarettes, but you couldn’t get It back to him at once. You couldn’t leave It out for him to find till all the out siders were gone. Then you saw that he found It” I stopped suddenly, utterly spent. I was trembling from head to foot; my blood felt like ice In my veins. “Are we crazy—to listen to this pack of lies?” Harrlden demanded. His brusque tone seemed to sweep "Are We Crazy—to Listen to This Pack of Lies?" away my words like a house of cards. “Donahey—I want this girl arrested.” I felt a terrible despair. No one would believe. I had no shred of proof. Nothing but that andiron —and the blood on it could not speak. Nor could the dead under the sheet Mitchell’s voice came suddenly. “Not so fast Harrlden . . . Dona hey, you’ve heard this story. I can supply a few details. That handkerchief was dried on the radi ator in Mr. Harrlden’s own bath room.” Harrlden’s voice rumbled out, “That’s another He I You were lis tening to that fool Anson.” The name fell like a bolt upon me. I had literally forgotten An son In my absorption In this first tragedy. Now his words, and their Implication, was a shock galvaniz ing me to life again. “No He,” Mitchell came back and his voice was clear-cut, authorita tive—his courtroom voice. “The rust spots on that handkerchief correspond exactly to the places where the paint has been flecked Dtf that particular radiator—and on no other In the house. That evi dence Is conclusive.” jturcneu stepped iorwara, con fronting Hdrriden. "The first death was accidental. Dan. Pity yon tried to camouflage It—to incriminate others . . . Anson was murder.” “Anson?” he growled. “I never saw Anson." “Oh, yes you did,” I flung out. ‘When she brought the fresh towels to your bathroom . . . You were in your room or in this one all that part of the morning. That lour when Anson had been killed.” I remembered his testimony. That je had heard no noise In Rancinl’s room. “And if I had, I wouldn’t lave cared.” And I held fast to my little thread of a clue—my clue :hat I thought had gone astray, that lad puzzled me so. I rushed on. “When 1 saw her In :he ball that morning she bad her irms full of towels. Lavender for :he prince’s room, pink for these ;wo. She carried them all into Etancini’s room, and when she came >ut she had forgotten the pink ones —she told me she bad to go back tor them. I saw her go in . Afterwards I went to look for those ;owels. I thought—” Apologetically my glance sought he prince. He was standing a short distance away with a stupefied air. I murmured, “I thought that— that If Anson had been killed there, at that time, then the pink towels would still be there. But they were not, and the maid who had taken over the room, on Anson’s disap pearance, said she had found none. So I knew that Anson bad taken her towels and gone.” I raised my eyes again to Harriden. “I knew the pink towels were for these rooms. So I asked the maid to look In here—you were downstairs then —and she did. She said the fresh towels were distributed In both bathrooms but that Anson hadn’t taken away the soiled ones. I thought that Anson might have been so nervous In these rooms that she had hurried away forget fully, and gone, for some reason, again Into the prince's room, where she met her death . . . But that wasn’t so. “Anson never left the room alive. She began to talk to you about something she had to tell at the in quest. There was something on her mind, a handkerchief she had seen drying on a radiator. The corner was not torn off—you didn’t tear that off till you came to pin the diamonds In it She didn’t want to. She told me that any one might have washed out a handkerchief. She tried to explain It to you.” Harrlden’s dark eyes were blaz ing like sheet lightning upon me. “She told you about It She may have said, too, that she couldn't swear that Mrs. Harriden was on her bed when she had looked In at eight She was a very simple-mind ed girl, anxious to be truthful. You lost your head—you may have tried to bribe her as you did me upstairs —you gave your alarm away. And then you jumped for her. You choked the life out of her. You looked up and down the hall. It was empty. You had only a step or two to take to Ranclnl’s door. You saw his room was empty. It was a desperate chance but you had to take It You got her In the room, you thrust her In the closet You wiped your prints off the door. You went back to your room, and no one saw you coming out that—you —knew—” My voice trailed out the words automatically. It was the look In Keller’s eyes that prompted them, that uneasy, worrying, disquietude. Tom Keller knew something. Per haps he had seen Harriden leaving the room. Perhaps he had seen him in toe nan. I knew It with the strange wrought-up divination that pos sessed me; I knew it so surely that I would have cried it aloud but Mitchell Intervened. “Ton remembered to wipe the door knob, Dan, but you forgot Deck’s taste In cigarettes. Luckies. When yon found his case there weren’t but two cigarettes in It, not enough to bold a stone in place, so you crammed it full of your own, making sure to keep the diamond at the bottom. That’s where you slipped—nobody here smokes Mace donia but you. Tbe case was full of Macedonias.” “And you call that evidence?’ Harrlden sneered. The man was gathering his power again, full of defiant challenge. "You’ve turned against your friends, have you, for the sake of—” “For the sake of a girl you tried to blacken and a man you tried to hang your own guilt on,” Mitchell flashed back, his eyes as full of war as Harriden's. “Evidence—you bet I’ll make It stick as evidence. Yon waited till they were all around Deck, you prompted Letty to ask Clancy for his case, and Deck banded it over. Do you think a jury will believe a man would do that If he had a dia mond hidden In it—a stone that would cost his neck . . . He'd have taken out some cigarettes and passed them back. But Deck just handed it over. Just like that And Clancy gave It to Letty, and you whispered her to feel it, to tell Clancy to feel It” He swung away from Harrlden. He spoke sharply to a white face. “Why didn’t you ask Dan for a smoke? You like his brand—you were smoking them tonight. You'll have to testify he prompted you.” “Oh, Dan, Dan, it isn’t so!” Let ty Van Alstyn’s voice, overwrought, breaking with hysterical strain, sobbed out at him. "You didn't ask me to say anything.” "You shut upl” said Harrlden harshly. "Shut up and keep shut up, d'you hear? Let them talk their heads off. That’s all there Is to it— talk.” “No one will believe It, Dan,” she cried half crying. “No one will blame you for anything. We'll all forget It—you’ll forget it. Nora wasn’t worth It” “Wasn’t worth It?” He gave a dreadful glare at her, then strode to the bed and with a single gesture he tore tbe sheet away. Nora Har riden's still face lay before us. We saw the loveliness of her profile, Uke chiseled marble, the rigid, tint ed lips, the long, dark lashes, mo tionless on her cold cheeks. (TO BE CONTINUED) Frontier* Always Shifting There is hardly a country in South America that knows its own frontiers, says Answers Magazine. In Asia matters are not much bet ter, for the frontier of China and Russia are always shifting, while between India and Afghanistan there Is a wide stretch of No Man’s Land. The only continents where frontiers are definitely marked are Europe and North America. For Style-Conscious Little Girls By CHERIE NICHOLAS mmmvxsmrnx—— IT IS with ever increasing enthu siasm that designers are yielding to the urge of catering to the needs and fancies of style-conscious little girls. The story of the modem child’s wardrobe resolves itself into many chapters dealing with all phases of fashion. Beginning with simple, novel and amusing beach, swim and playtime togs and cunning sun suits, the plot carries on through thrilling adventures in the realm of smart school and dressy daytime clothes reaching a grand and glorious cli max in a way of entrancing pretty pretty party frocks that make every little girl look like a fairy princess of story book lore. For practical daytime and play time frocks the call is_ outstanding for cotton reps, gabardines, cham brays, crinkled seersuckers (no ironing required is their big ap peal), ginghams, novelty cottons soft and spongy, piques and most im portant, new lines both plain and printed. Now that a sturdy non crush type of linen is obtainable mothers are jubilant, for in it they have discovered the fabric ideal to withstand the vigorous test of the wear and tear of the thousand and one antics which little folks enjoy in a day’s sport Perhaps the most exciting news is gay printed linens in bold patterns and colorings. Peasant designs in a blaze of daring colors abound and these rustic prints are especially good-looking when made up into sep arate little coats with hats to match. Florals in effective spacing, cun ning animal, vegetable and fruit motifs on the new printed linens are a special lure to children. Then there are the exquisitely sheer print ed handkerchief linens and the fine dimities which are adorable for dress-up wear. Lace-trimmed organdie or geor gette is a favorite theme this season with the designers of little girl party dresses. Georgette made over taffeta is shown quite a little. A significant trend is the use of pas tel colors which seem to have al most gained precedence over all white. In the matter of styling, the prin cess silhouette is a great favorite while most sleeves are just short puffs. Note the dress worn by the little girl with the gorgeous doll in the picture. Her smart school and playtime dress is of firm linen cut on the new princess lines. Gay striped printed linen is used as a bordering. The style distinction of this charming dress will make in stant appeal to both mother and life, tie daughter. The other two children are look ing their prettiest in dainty party frocks or perhaps they took part in “last day of school" exercises. At any rate their little pleated sheer frocKs are lovely and will be a joy the wnole summer through. The wee maiden to the left is wearing an accordion pleated voile as charming in pastel colors as it is in white. A wide sash about her waist ties at the back in a huge butterfly bow. Tiers of narrow pleatings animate the frocK centered in the group. The vogue tor pleating is as pro nounced in children’s fashions as in grown-up- styles. The pleatings about the neckline extend over the short puff sleeves so as to achieve the new-vogue wide shoulder line. C Western Newspaper Union. IT’S EMBROIDERED Bj CHERIB NICHOLAS The latest call of the mode is for frocks of monotone silk crepe with complementary jackets made of the identical silk crepe of the dress, the same handsomely allover ‘embroid ered in bright contrasting colors. In the instance of the model pictured the sport dress is of pink silk crepe with a short-sleeved box jacket of the same crepe embroidered with green and blue wool. Blue buttons are on the dress. Short-Term Wigs Wigs are proving popular among fashionable women in London, who use them to cover hair while it is regaining its natural color after a :