Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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The Barmwell People^entUwl, Banwell, & C, J«m 14,1934 THE V WEDMHO MARCH MURDER by . Monte Barrett Copyright, IMS, t>y the Bobbe-Meriill Co. WMU Service. CHAPTER XI—Continued —21— Silently, m before, he mnwri mam the table, anxious once more to reach the partial aecurlty of the wall. He rounded the table, his left hand ex- *gg hlm - rl| ' ht « h “ 'W* | fuiness. He TrM to^'remeWdaz- ' clutching the rerorrer. be orer now. He was only vagnely conscious of the blows which battered at his (See. Tbs fellow Bust fire In soon. He tried to fores sew energy Into his flagging muscles, drained of much of their strength by the punish ment he had absorbed during the struggle. r Somehow his hold had been broken. For the first time a feeling of hopeless ness engulfed Peter. He was rery tired. How long they had struggled, he did not know. He did know that It could not last much longer. He was almost at the end of his strength. t TTffl»t h» ttrwt tnwrrJ the energy of despair be flung himself Into a renewed attack. His arms seemed light, like cushions that he was pushing forward with tremendous ef fort Of what use were blows like that? He must hit harder 1 Harder! Harder! Still his blows seemed only to float through space. From somewhere, far off, something was beating at him, steadily. Was It the throb In his head? were they blows? They no longer seemed to hurt He seemed to be sinking, sinking—now he could just drift -away, comfortably, Into forget- mornlng before Rylle Oarmody mad located at his home, to which be had returned during dm night Kllday was resolved to place the young man under arrest, convinced diet hie flight bed had some connection with Cardlgsn’s In jury. * “ Of course, this meant that Spears was Innocent How. else account for whet obviously had occurred at Frank- f tin’s office? Who but the murderer would have hurled Cardigan through tho window? Certainly that was not Webster Spears, who had beep under arrest at the time. Callis ‘Shipley Good Taste Today BY EMILY POST : Jutkcr of “ETIQUETTE," THE BLUE BOOK OF SOCIAL USAGE," ETC. A MISCELLANEOUS D EAR Mrs. Post: My gferimlates with hie young -ksito- son He way warned. He did not know how. It might have been the faintest whisper of breath—a slight rustle of movement - Or that even more, vague Instinct of danger which he had often felt before. Whatever it was, he sensed his peril and whirled, swiftly, to face the room. The Mow caught Peter on the back of the jaw, near the ear, just as he was turning. It was a terrific smash, that would have ended the struggle right then, had he not turned when he did. As it was, it glanced off, but its force knocked him off balance and sent him sprawling to the floor on all fours. The novelist’s quarry had used the same strategy that Peter had adopted. He had been standing, back to the will, waiting to catch his enemy fafe- tween himself and the vague light of the windows. As Peter rounded*the table he came into the position for which the man had been waiting. edly, why he should keep on strug gling. There was some reason for it, but it kept eluding him. Then a blow in the abdomen hurt Once more he remembered. He was fighting—fighting for bis life with Jim Franklin’s murderer. They were on their feet again. He could not remem ber getting up. Bnt here they were. f" L revolver clattered to the floor. Partly dazed, the novelist lost a precious mo ment In groping for the weapon In the darkness. In that Instant, his enemy was upon him. The accuracy of a sec ond blow was spoiled by the dark ness. It caught Peter on the shoul der, but it served to acquaint a his al- ■ailant with his whereabouts. The man was on his back, raining blows down upon him, terrific, flail-like blows, that bruised and stunned, but still could find no vital spot Unless he could reverse the tables, and quickly, Peter realized that he was through. He drew hit right leg up under him, and then kicked oat with all his strength. His lashing foot caught the other man on the ankle and sent him spinning against the table. Peter kicked again, but the second effort mtssed. However, he waa free oflhoee crushing blows. Once more he groped for his weapon, but could not And It He coaid hear the scrape of his en emy’s heels as he struggled to his feet Again he had wasted a precious sec ond In vain search for the revolver. Too Ute now. Peter rolled to the right quickly, to avoid the other's rush, Only one Mow caught trhnr and~ j he was half-way to hla fat hafnra thoy- came to grips. Once more the blows rained on him, fierce hammers of rage, any one of which might end the straggle If It landed In a vital spot Peter was thankful for the darkness which pre vented accuracy. Nor was he helpless now. With all his strength, he hurled his fists at his Invisible foe, and found an uncertain exaltation at the hard im pact of his knuckles which told him they had found a target A random shot caught him on the check and sent him reeling backward Into a chair. It was too frail to sup port him, and he careened across it The chair splintered and Peter caromed into the wall. But his fall had been broken. Panting, he strag gled to his feet Now, for the first time, his opponent was between him and the light Peter coaid see him there, crouched over the chair, grop ing frenziedly Into the blackness to find him. Choking back his sobbing breath. Peter advanced cautiously. Now was his chance t The man straightened up just as Peter hurled himself through the air In a flying tackle. He struck his an- tagonist Just above the knees, the im pact numbing his shoulder. But Peter did not care. The man was down. - Peter was confident of his ability to fight on more than even terms, once r~Ye came to gripe with the fellow. Peter Cardigan was more than six feet tall, with a lean flatiked harness .that did not belle the power* of' hls well- trained muscularity. Releasing his grip on the fellow’s legs, Peter aimed a vicious blow to the abdomen, intent on ending the struggle as promptly as possible. The blow missed its mark, glancing off, too high, against the ribs. He drew back his arm for another blow, bnt there was no time. His an tagonist gripped him about the body, crushing him down; There was no room for a Mow now. Locked In each other’s arms, they rotted, panting, across the floor. Each was seeking for . an opening that the other was too cau tious tb grant. They crashed Into the table. There was a tinkle of -broken glass. Once Peter got the palm of his hand under his antagonist’s chin. He ^gritted his teeth- and put all his strength Into the effort, as he forced the other’s head back. Hly Mfeath was whistling, pain- , through his nostrils. There was Indescribable agony in Us chest, as •ome tremendous weight were out his. breath. Still. ha (wet that head. It would The-Blow Caught Peter en the Back of the Jaw. That blurred weaving shadow was the man he bad come here to get He knew he must end it soon, or he would lack the strength to rod- It, 'trvrr Once more Peter dove at hla op ponent, putting all his ebbing power Into the tackle. Together they tot tered backward, but the wall broke their fall. Dimly Peter hearaShe crash of breaking glass. It seemed far away. A rush of cooler air cleared the mists from his mind. His enemy's had shattered the window pane. : One last effort now. Peter lunged again, almost missed. His fingers clutched at the fellow’s coat But he was falling. He tried to catch him-, self, but his fingers lacked strength to grip^the rough wool of hfetmtffgonlst’s clothing. Failing—falling 1 The air was crisp and cool. Then he remembered the broken window. In his last desperate effort to tackle the murderer, he had missed, and lunged through the window. If only he could have clung to the fel low'* cost be might have saved him self. Rough wool. Tweed. Curious how the texture of the garment should have impressed itself on his mind In that last Instant When people are dying, they were supposed to think of their past lives. Writers always used that All the mie- deeds of a lifetime were supposed to flit through the final seconds of a dy ing man’s consciousness. Tet he was dying and all he could think of was rough tweed. Curious t Then he was struck one last terrific Mwr. — Even then, right at the end, he was thinking of tweed. ^ \ Bnt Rylle Carmody— He bad jiot been entirely wrong in hia surmises, then. If- Rylle Canpody had not given his shadow the slip, things would havt worked out differently, surely. The sergeant was a determined man when he presented himself at the Car mody residence after being Informed that his quarry had returned. “I’m sorry,” the butler declared. “Mr. *He’H see me,” declared Kllday dourly. In his extended palm he ex hibited his badge. “Take me to his room." Rylle was sitting up In bed, several pillows propped behind his back. His left eye was discolored and swollen. One arm was bandaged above the wrist and the knuckles of the other hand were taped. “Good morning, Sergeant What brings you here so early In the morn ing?” “I guess you know,’’ was the laconic rejoinder. “Ton look as though yon’d run Into a buzz-saw.” Rylle raised his arm, the better to exhibit the bandage. “Had an acci dent” he explained. “Oh, yeah?” The sergeant grinned mirthlessly. “An accident eh? Auto mobile, I suppose?” “Yes, I skidded on some loose gravel and—” k were trying 4+ give my man the slip yesterday after noon?” ~ * The young man pretended not to on derstand. The sergeant settled himself In l comfortable chair beside the bed and lighted a cigar. “So yon gave ns the slip did you?” He puffed a time or two. “Well, I won’t deny you kept half a dozen men busy last night try ing to find yon. Caused ns a lot of trouble. But I won’t complain. Yon’v* helped us a lot In the solution of the murder.” . “Helped you?" Rylle raised himself on one elbow. “Do yod mean to say you’ve caught the murderer?" “I can lay my hands on Mm, any time I please.” Kllday asserted. *T know who he Is, where he Is'and what hn dld last night It Isn’t * mystery any more. Tonng Carmody relaxed against the pillows. “I suppose It’s time to cheer,” he said. "But what has last night got to do wurmT fork at table. This habit upsets terribly but I can’t eeem to break him of it Can you suggest any way? Answer: . Would he mind If he saw you do *t? If he would, you might copy him—especially If a friend of hla Is present If he does not eara, then you. will either have to deprive him of some small privileges or (and In my opinion better) let him earn a prlvl- lege or an award to marks of excel- lence: 100 meals without doing it once, for Instance, would earn something he wants. • • • My Amt-Mrs. Post: Are.cards re moved from funeral flowers before tho flowers are arranged^ Or are tho names simply written down for a rec ord to use in writing thank you ootes? Answer: They are taken off and a description of the flowers written on the back of each card, for future thanks. * * * Dear Mrs. Post: 1 have a new daughter just three days old. My hus band was killed two months ago. Un der these tragic circumstances shall I announce my - bMly's birth by send ing out cards as we would have done, or do I simply do nothing about It at all? If an announcement were sent to the newspaper, how would It be worded? s child’s birth is entirely a matter of personal Inclination. In yonr case It would be best to telephone or write to yonr Intimate friends; they In turn tell otherm, I mean, of course, that a member of your family will do this for you. To send a baby card tied to your own black bordered one wotjld emphasize the tragedy very painfully. I wouldn’t If I were you. The an nouncement in the newspaper would read; “Daughter of Mrs. John Jones and the late Mr. Jones.” Dear Mrs. Post: When my husband and I happen to be In the room, should we, shake hands when a boy friend of my younger sister leaves after having spent the evening In qpr hpqse? This sister Uvea with ok Answer: If your sister’s friend la a regular visitor, you would probably look up and, wlthont paying particular attention, say, “Good night, Tom!” If he la a stranger, or some one who does not come to the house often, your nat ural Impulse would be to shake hands with fahn "when he leares. “The letter I gave yon this morn ing—did you poet It?” asked Mrs. Brown Inquiringly.. Brown put his band In his jacket pocket and drew out the letter. “Pm afraid net, my denr,”^ke saM coolly enough. ■ “Of coarse yon didn’t 1” she snapped. “And I told yon fhat R very Important” “Yes, I remember, dear,” he re turned. “How like a than that Is 1” she con tinued. _____ _/_ “But t dear—” he stammered. “Don’t ‘but’ me. I'm angry,” she snapped. “But dear, be reasonable. Look at the letter; you forgot to address It** he explained.—Stray Stories. Looked Impressive Don’t feel too highly flattered when some one asks for your John Hancock. A movie aetress reports that one day she was solicited for her autograph by two small boys. “Bbi you know who I am?” ahe asked them. “No’m," the older boy answered, “but we thought we could Had out this way.”—Boston Transcript. “So Nellie married a farmer. And she always said she would marry a man of culture.” 4 “Well, she did. A man of agrlcul- Men Are Uk* That First Wife — My husband awake ao much at night Second Ditto—Huh! Mine talks In his sleep and lies even then. Very “What la this r f “Our college has established a chair of humor.” “But this la a collapsible chair.” vy • inougni mac wouia o© nunior- ous.”—Louisville Courier-Journal. AA&Sfcy CHAPTER XII Another Arrest Sergeant Kllday discovered that both Callis Shipley and Rylle Carmody were missing',' at about the tlme Wter- was’ straggling in Franklin’s darkened office with ht« unknown assailant Rylie’a disappearance was reported by the angry detective whom he had given the slip, fn the country. The disappearance of the girl was discovered when Kllday sent for her In the hope that Daniel Bullis might “Xou ought to know.” Kllday’s eyes never left the yonng man’s face. “Me?” “Yon killed Jim Franklin.” At first Rylle smiled. “You have a queer Idea of humor,” he said. Then he sat op straight "Say, are you seri ous? Do you think I—why, man, you’re out of your head ?** “You think so?" The sergeant war elaborately casual. “Crasy Idea, eh? “Listen, It Isn’t half as crazy as that story yon just told me about, an auto accident I know where you got that black eye. I know where those braises came from. And you -weren’t even la. an automobile, young fellow. “I can tell you why you were so anxious to give my detective the slip yesterday afternoon. I can tell you • great many things that you don’t think I know. And the things I know are going to send you to the chair.” Kilday’s cigar was forgotten and cold now. He edged forward, the hard lines of his face no harder than the bleak stare of his eyes. *T was on to you from the first If Cardigan had listened to me, then, he’d be here with me today, instead of where he la. But you’re not going to pall the wool over oar eyes any more. “Yon killed Jim Franklin. Whether you did it to prevent him from marry ing your sister, after everything els« had fhlled, or for another reason We’ll discuss that later. We know yo« quarreled with him in the study of thr* chureh, within a half-hour of the time he was murdered. We know that Web ster Spears told you shout Choo Cho# Train that very afternoon, at lunch Spears is under arrest He admits he told you, in the hope that you would stop the wedding. He even admitted, this morning, that he was The author of that anonymous message yonr fa ther received. He admits everything, except tb* murder" Ifiwtf, and the. phone call to Choo Choo Train. Per hape that was yonr work. Oh, Spears has tried to protect yon, bnt he wont any longer. Spears has talked, and he’ll keep on talking." “Webster Spears?” Rylle’s tone wan Incredulous. “Did he sty that?” “It doesn’t really matter what Spears id. Identify her as the woman In blue he gay*.- Kllday brushed aside the In- had seen in the rector's study wit! terraptlon with an Impatient wave of Franklin. Aside from the fact that the hand. “We’ve got the goods on she hed a week-end bag and left word TRW to expect ber back for several days, nothing was known of her where about “Has she gone with young Car mody or la she afraid that Bullis might identity her?" pondered the detec- tive. He quickly abandoned the latter theory, as he realised she had not known he Intended confronting tier with the politician. He was more than eve? anxious to find the missing couple when.he learned what had happened to Peter Cardigan. The novelist had been found unconscious, on the side walk la front of the Greer building. It was the following yon, anyway. Franklin you returned entering by the rear dm wouldn’t be Ing in the sacristy toward you. You was hanging on him twice. Tben yoo wiped the Made off on' tho curtain and replaced the knife in Its sheath, first being careful to obliterate year flager-print$ .pn the (to bx oourncnro.) study, that yon Was stand- with Ms back the knife that and subbed that door, DINING SERVICE D EAR Mrs. Post While dining In the bouse of a stranger the other night I noticed that her waitress brought In a dessert plate with a fine lace dolly on It and on top of that a finger bowl. The silver for dessert was already at the places. 1 had nev er had a finger bowl brought In just this way. My hostess removed it and the doily from the dessert plate and pat the bowl down on the dolly at the left to the back of the dessert plat* The dessert wan a rich fudge cake, which would have soiled the doily miserably. Is tt correct to let a dolly Uke (he place of a plate which matches the finger bowl and which stenda on top of the dessert plate .usually without any dolly betwaen them? Answer: I don’t think I understand your question. I don’t see how the cake could possibly com* In cooUct with the dolly. Dollies ere not often used, but when they are, you pick yours up with the finger bowl and put both down together on the tablet cloth wherever there Is space. Then you put whatever It may be on the plate. You certainly would not put food on the doily, ever! My dear Mrs. Post: (1) How does one remove watermelon seeds from the month at table? (2) A friend told me that* tablespoons are not the real serving spoons. I have always used them as soch, which must be Is It ever sit right to eat DANGER BUSH* Interest, tiny buttons trim the ha bodice. Sleeves may be omtttafl may be made of contrast Pattern 1770 !• available Ik flh 12, 14, M. 18, 20. 80. 82, 84, * and 40. Size-16 Ukes 4 yards 88 Is , fabric. Illustrated step-by-sta* « | tog Instructions Included. Send FIFTEEN CENTS (Ue) coins or stamps (coins tot this pattern. Write plainly address and style number. BE TO STATE BIKE. Address orders to Sewing I Pattern Department 243 Seventeenth Street, New Yotfc CRgi M^mnasnnaBBmnBmnBBsanBBBnmBBBmm FOOTSTEPS “Are yon going to leach yonr samB boy to follow In year “No,” said Seoator Sorghum, conns, he’ll go Into pdlftieai body has to. But nobody . following footsteps. ] bound to arise which compel « person of voting age to dedfe himself which way he Is going Jump." V. * While the yonng suitor was Ing to take out his yonng lady letter’s little sister entered the N “Did yon know my sister's three other boy friends?” said child. The suitor pricked op his eaa this piece of ndwn “Really r be MM. to surprise haven’t seen any of them." “Neither have L" returned child, “bnt ahe gave me a to tell yon.”—Border Cities ever a. In peas with a spoon, In ease, or must they be juggled with a fork?* (4) Art little side dishes always taba? (0) In a restaurant, when foods are some times served In separate dishes, Is It correct to eat them directly from the serving dish or should all food bn put from them over on the dinner plate? Answer: (1) Remove all that yoo ran with the fruit knife and fork be fore lifting a piece to the month, and any seeds left In the fruit are re move^ between thumb and Auger, or dropped into the cupped hand. They are to either case dried as completely as possible with tongue and between Ups. (2) There are slightly larger spoons used for serving, bnt table spoons answer perfectly. (3) absolutely taba Mash them sUghtly with the fork, *1f yon most But 1 can’t see that there Is any difficulty, ever. (4) Correctly, yea. (5) Yoo should put them on your plate, bnt there Is no rale because conventionally side dishes are not used. • If Emily Poet—WNU Sorvloo. o m tw*” L.I Of Lightly Walter—Would yon mind | yonr bill, sir? We’re closing new. Irate Patron—But, hang tt al, ■ | haven't been served yet Walter—Well, to that case, | only be the cover charge. Subtle Tact [ argument with yonr wife? Dicks—Sure, by agreeing with MB | to everything I made ktoA own facta.—Brooklyn Dally , Ho'* the Fond Mother—David, Pm shocked If hear yon us* such language. Did yon learn tt at school? David—Learn tt at school? No. Why, It’s me tut teaches the ether hoys, mother.—Pathfinder Magastoe. Easy Teacher—Johnny, | “sphere” to g ^sentence? Johnny (after much Tea, ma’am. My Uttie sphere cold. / m Warn Her Stripes "The mat have an oM family cook." “Yea, Indeed; she’s been m or twelve ' MB