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The Barnwell People-Sentinel, Barnwell, S. CL Thursday, July 16, 1636 By NARY HASTINGS BRADLEY • Copyright by D. Appleton* Century Co., Ino WNU Service SYNOPSIS Leila Seton, young and beautiful, and an expert on paintings, is commissioned to go over the collection of paintings In the home of the wealthy Kellers In New York, where a party Is In progress. From her window she witnesses a man In another room strike a woman. Short ly after Mrs. Keller sends up w<^3, ask ing her to Join the party at dinner. Leila hastily dresses and goes down. She is seated between Mr. Deck, a critic, and Monty Mitchell, a noted lawyer. Introductions follow. There are Mr. Harrlden, Miss Letty Van Alstyn, Mrs. Crane, Mrs. Watkins and Prince and Princess Kancini, guests. Leila finds she Is taking the place of Nora Harri- den. Dan Harrlden leaves yie table, and Mitchell, explains he has gone up to see how his wife’s headache Is. He returns shortly. Deck, saying he must put In a call, leaves. Upon his return, he begs Leila to secretly take a mes sage to Nora "to take no steps until I see you.” Leila consents. Leila finds the Harrlden rooms empty and so In forms Deck. Coming out she passes Let'.y. Harrlden asks Princess Hancinl to run up and see his wife. The prin cess reports the absence of Nora. Har rlden admits that he had a row, and believes she Is spitefully hiding. Letty tells of seeing Leila come from the room. Leila accuses Harrlden of having struck his Wife. This ‘ Harrlden denies. From the Harridens' window Leila sees what proves to be Nora's lifeless body. A ghastly head wound caused death. Dan says she was lying on her bed when he went to dinner, and when he ran up later the room was dark. Think ing she was asleep, he left without see ing her. Mrs. Keller comes upon a pool of blood In the closet. A diamond chain la missing. Donahey, police Inspector, questions the guests. Harrlden brands Leila's story of seeing a man strike a woman a lie. Anson, a maid, tells of aeelng Deck outside the Harrlden door. Desk says he passed by in seeking a lost handkerchief. Klklns, a servant, tella of overhearing Deck threaten Mrs. Harrlden earlier In the day. Deck ex plains he was intoxicated and does not remember. That night Leila awakes with the Impression of some one being la her room and then heare steps In the hall. Believing she was mistaken, she does not report It. loiter Donahey sends for Leila. Mhe Identifies the dress he has as hers Pinned to It Is a hand- ksrchlef containing the missing chain. Leila tells of her Intruder. Mitchell tries to help clear her Harrlden ac cuses Leila of being Deck’s confeder ate. A large diamond la missing from the chain. The handkerchief which contained the diamond chain has one corn^ torn off and Is stained. CHAPTER VI—Continued —7— “Ah, there they differ. He thinks before—they think after. So think the Kellers. Hut (>eo|ile were drifting ■bout so, that It's easy to overlook •ome one In the nmm. ... I was nett to the last. Or I»eck was. we differ there. I^*t1y Van Alstyn tvus the last. Now what about Letty?" “Well, what about her?" I echoed. “She* cuckoo over Harrlden." be told me. ••Harrlden?" “Vep. She might have dropped In to aee Nora aud Nora twitted her about something—Nora knew all about Letty'a push for I>un, and Letty got In a rage and caught up something that wag handy. . . ." I flung out, “Hut a girl couldn't have killed her—like that—" ‘‘Somebody Willed her—like that." “And dragged her, first to a closet, then to a window—" “You can do a lot when you have to. lA'tty went up right after dinner," he pointed out. “She wouldn't give a hoot In Hades what happened to any one so she got clear. Tagging the diamonds to you would he Just her line.’’ ‘ A sweet menagerie," I commented. “I know all these people Involved— except the Kanelf)is—and you don’t— I'm not sure but that gives you the edge over me for you’ve no precon ceptions. Except about Deck," he add ed, suddenly. “You think Deck is In nocent, don’t you?" Under the quizzical gleam of his eyes. I felt the weight of his look upon me, a shrewd, legal, estimating look, and a sudden cold doubt of his friendliness blew like a chill wind through my uncertain mind. I had a horrid thought. . . What was his own snare In this Involved affair? At what time had he, him self, come down to dinner? About the same time as Deck. Just before Letty Van Alstyn. He had never liked Nora Harrlden; he had admitted It with a frankness meant, perhaps, to disarm suspicion. My look twisted away from his bu* not quickly enough. He rose, laugh ing at me with a chiding note of rail lery. "Shall we go see If my hankies match?" I looked again and laughed with him; I felt horribly ashamed of my self. CHAPTER VII Clancy had returned and his report Iras a curious one. There had been tbree separate finds of handkerchiefs exactly similar to that stained and emmpled piece of linen In Douahey’s Uay had been found among the possessions of Haniaen, sad #Y Kel ler and of Deck. Donahey sat glowering over that hit of newa. Mitchell urged the Immediate exam ination of the handkerchief and Dona hey agreed, sending Clancy up with It to the picture^ gallery. But before I could join him with my case Qf mate rials I had to he subjected to a search both of my belongings and of my per son. I was told that tbla waa a rou tine matter that everyone waa un dergoing, in the effort to discover the missing pendant. After having seen that glittering chain brought out of the hanky In side my dress I was really afraid they’d conjure the famous pendafit out of my powder box or the toe of a slipper. That demon thief might have tucked It anywhere. I breathed a good deal easier when the ordeal was over. 1 was glad to be In the gallery again, where Clancy was waiting beside a card table that Elkins had set up. I was grateful to have the work on the handkerchief, grateful to Mitchell for trying to range me on the side of the Investigators. There were three people, I thought, on whom suspicion might justifiably rest; there were the Prince and Prin cess Hancinl and Letty Van Alstyn, but there was not a scrap of evidence against any of them. No, there were four. I had to- be honest with myself; I couldn’t pretend. There was Alan Deck. And against him was all the evidence they had. I wanted to see Deck. I wanted to talk with him. Not here,-wittr Ciancjr at hand—yes, here, even though we could say nothing that mattered. If I could see him again, I thought 1 could find an answer to that worrying un certainty In me. The testing was a difficult business. The handkerchief had been so thor oughly washed that I began to de spair of uncertainty In my experi ments. Not about the rust marks; those I did make sure of. Then, In one of the corners, close under the fold of the hemstitched hem, I found traces of stain that yielded a blood reaction. “That’s blood," I said. In the Intervals of waiting and dry ing I walked up and down the gallery. I found myself wishing to get at the records of these pictures to begin the real work for which I had come. For a few moments I forgot the night mare of that murder. I grinned at a Magdalen, attributed to Titian, analo gous to the one at Naples, and then I was caught by a lovely little Virgin whose suppliant, adoring curves and pure, poignant ecstasy made me yearn to prove her the creation of Angelico that she was labeled. " As my mind bit on th«*se familiar realities my nerves steadied, and when I went down with the policeman to make my report 1 waa feeling more like myself. Alan Deck waa with Monty Mitchell, and when he saw me he came forward quickly, with a “Good morning, accom plice!" In hta mocking way. Monty said, “Find anything?" And they both came with me while I had my moment of Importance, making my report to Donahey. I used all the words and technical terms that I thought he would not know but the main facta were clear— blood In one corner, and five marks of ruat. Donahey nodded, as If he had guessed it all the time, and I moved away with l>eck. Mitchell atayed with the Inspector: I remember aeelng him turn the handkArblef about very slow ly In his hands. Deck said thoughtfully, “That blood rather disposes of the theory that the diamonds might have been put there by aome one who Just picked them up —afterwards." And at my assent he said, “Well, that’a that!" In a hard voice. Grant now appeared before us, an nouncing that a buffet luncheon was being served In the dining-room. As I went to wash my stained fingers I saw Miss Van Alstyn In the hall ahead of me. As she paused at her door, opposite that closed door behind which Nora Harrlden was lying, I saw the maid, Anson, stop her, holding something In her hand. “Yes, 1 tiirew It away," I heard Miss Van Alstyn say. "It's broken—throw It out." "It's so pretty," Anson murmured. "If you don't mind my keeping It—” “As you like," said Miss Van Al styn indifferently and disappeared Into her room. Out of an Impulse of friendliness for that pretty Anson 1 turned and asked her what she had. "It’s for the hair, miss, only the comb is broken," she told me. “Maybe I could get another fixed on. It’s so pretty—’’ It was pretty — a sharp - pointed crescent about four or five Inches long, glittering with bright brown stones. The comb, at right angles to the cres cent, had been broken sharply off. I picked It up; It seemed a little large and too heavy for anywhere except the back of the head, above a froth of curls. It was of some solid brown metal and I thought another comb could easily be soldered on. "It’s worth it," 1 told Anson, and she said she had been afraid to carry It away without asking, for fear it had fallen in the basket by mistake. 1 was reflecting that costume Jew elry, to Miss Van Alstyn, was not worth repairing, and then, staring at those bard, pointed ends, that solid metal— If a woman had a thing like this In her hands ... If she struck out with It. furiously. . . . "When did you find this, Anson?” I-ust night, she told me. When ahe had been arranging the room for the night "Were tae broken pieces er the comb to the basket, too," “I did aee some broken pieces. But they went with the traah. They couldn’t have been fixed." “With the trash? Where did the hat and coat and, with Donahey*! per mission, be took me* outdoor! and marched ma up and down the land scaped road In front of the house where cool wind and sunshine had their tonic effect trash go?” "Why, lif the Incinerator, Miss," ahe answered, -eyes widening at my ques tions. * “And waa the Incinerator going?" "Last night miaa? I couldn’t say. I know It hasn't been going tbla morn ing for that policeman gave orders not to have anything burned." ' I turned the crescent about. No sign of a blood film over any of Its bright ness—but blood could be superficially washed off fh running* water. A'blow with it, a jab with one of those vi ciously pointed ends, would have bro ken off the comb. . . . She might not have thought to wash off the pieces of the comb. . . . In imagination I saw Letty Van Al styn snatching this crescent from her hair, striking out recklessly. . . . Anson was staring at me; I hand ed It back to her, saying something about my Interest in Imitations to ex cuse my absorption in It. . . . Letty Van Alstyn came out of her room, passing down to luncheon, and In the vague smile she swept over us I felt a sharpening of curiosity. Scrubbing my stained fingers, brush ing out my hair, I tried to fit the pieces together in this pattern. . . . Suppose Letty were guilty—how about that scene at the window? Well, that could have had nothing to do with the actual murder—it might have been Deck, or Hancinl or Harrlden for all his denials. ... Suppose it had been Harrlden. Sup pose he had gone on down to din ner, and Nora had been In bed, re sentful, hysterical, when Letty had dropped in, on her way down. Nora might have surmised that Letty had Tha Prlnca Ranclnl Walked By. The ahore waa being patrolled bp guard! to keep reporters aud curiosity seekers from landing, and I bad p feeling of being under martial law la aome Internment camp. Other members of the house-party were out taking exercise, too; tha Prince Ranclnl walked by, very amart- ly turned out with apata aud a cane. 1 After we had passed each other twice he turned, amlllng, to aak permission to Join us. Without hi* wife’s presence he ex panded into gaiety; he seemed to me a big, light-hearted pleaanre-lovlng fellow, with a Continental's casual cynicism about life and emotional re sponsiveness to beauty. He stopped os to show us a particularly lovely contrast of light and dark blue In the sea, pointing with hla stick, and he told us of his swimming feats at C* prl and his skiing records at St. Mo ritz and of hla shooting triumphs In Scotland. For a time I was amused at tbla distraction; no one could have Im agined that we three people, prome nading up and down those stately ave nues, chatting of tournaments were three members of an Isolated house hold darkened by death and shadowed by suspicion. Mitchell said very little — he had small chance against the prince ex cept through interruptions. But he created a diversion by suddenly trip ping- over a root and emitting a suc cession of fervent -damns as he hopped about distressfully. “It’s this confounded ankle—strained It a year ago. May I borrow your stick?” he asked the prince. I thought Hancinl passed It over rather reluctantly. At the time I Im agined he fancied It as part of hia own costuming. Mitchell leaned on it as he walked along with us, refusing to return to the house. “Be all right In a second." Then Hancinl began telling about his palace In Home that he was doing over and about his efforts to collect the tapestries and furniture that he had previously sold. I gathered that he was doing all this with bis wife’! money. It waa when we returned to tha house, and Mitchell wa* passing back the cane, declaring himself complete ly recovered, that he made * casual sounding observation. “This la one of those trick things, Isn’t It, prince? Isn’t there a spring I feel here—?" “But yea," said Ranclnl, without the slightest hesitation. “You press this— please take your bands away. I do It—I know this thing. So—like that. And out come* this little toy.* What came out waa the point of ■ substantial looking knife, quite a stab bing tooL “Another press and ■ bayo net." said Ranclnl. laughing. "Quite a toy." Mitchell commented, eyeing It qulxslcally. been atlrrlng up Dau's Jealousy, so there waa every reason for a scene between them. A terrific scene. In which Letty. In blind rage or In self protection had atruck out with the first thing at hand. . . . I bad to Imagine her picking up one of Dan’s handkerchiefs to wipe off the blood . . . thrusting Nora Into the closet . . . waiting till ahe waa aure the rest were down at dinner, then putting her ont the window. Perhaps the blood • atalned handkerchief had been a crumpled ball In Letty'a brown bag and after dinner abe had gone up to wash It out—that was when ahe had met me In the hall, outside Mr* liar riden’s door. “And not such a toy at that la Rome now, the streets are safe, but In Paris, when one la late—In the quarters of a little milliner, perhaps—* “With a Jealous lover around tha corner," Monty Mitchell suggested. "SI. all" Ranclnl laughed, then ua- der hla breath to me he murmured In ■wlft Italian, “When the heart la empty one must pass the hours," and I smiled up at hla amlla and asked to aee the knife again. I looked hard at It The sharp, ■trong point teemed bright, unstained. CHAPTER VIII Perhaps the yellow diamonds had been In Letty'a brown bag, too. And late that night—or rather early In the morning—she had torn the Initials out of the dried handkerchief and stolen up to my room. The pieces fitted together, I thought excitedly. But there was nothing In the world to sustain that wild sus picion but my vivid Imagination—noth ing unless there should be blood upon the pieces of broken comb In the In cinerator. I fairly raced down, then, to the buffet luncheon, eager to pour this out to Mitchell. Mitchell was busily filling a plate so I went over to him. His eyes looked darker and more alert than ever; his black hair, which began quite far back on his forehead was standing up In an excited crest. We sat down at a cor ner of the table—he hated eating In his lap, he declared—and under my breath I poured out my conjecturings. Promptly he dasJied my hopes. “In cinerator been going for an hour. Don ahey let them start It up when he saw there weren’t any rags there—Just trash and garbage. Did you keep the crescent?’’ When I said I hadn’t, he advised me to get It and test It for blood. But he seemed a little detached. He even said, “I think you’re barking up the wrong tree."' “It was your tree," I told him In dignantly. “You thought she could be a guilty soul." “Ob, a possibility—yes. But some how—’’ He left U in dubiety. We went on talking. I remember saying about the Inquest, “Why don’t they have It today and get It over with?" And he said that Donahey wanted to do more work on the case, wanted enough for an Indictment, If possible. And be said, •"By keeping people herded up like this, In an Isola tion camp, he can Induce a state of nerves that may cause a breakdown. Anything may develop at any moment That's psychology." After luncheon he had me'get my Mitchell aald very naturally, "A oae ful thing, that! A pity Nora Harrlden didn’t have one at hand when that fel low set on her." Not a quiver of Ranclnl’a face, as far as I could aee. Perhaps the fact •that there wasn’t a quiver, that hla voice was blandly expressionless meant something. Smoothly he agreed, "It might have made all the difference." We were back In the house again, its walls shut upon us, closing us In to tension and uncertainty and the strain of our own thoughts. Mitchell went off to Donahey, com ing back Just for a moment to report that no trace of the pendant had been found. When 1 went to Anson to get the crescent, with a little made-up speech about my Interest In Imitation stones, she told me that Miss Van Alstyn had asked for it back, giving her Instead a star of brilliants. She was immensely pleased and I Immensely puzzled. Letty Van Alstyn had been Indiffer ence itself before me as to the fate of that broken ornament. Why the sud den, surreptitious change? I tried, on the impulse, to find her but she wasn't In her room; my maid at last located her in the Keller sitting-room, with Mrs. Crane and the two Kellers, play ing at bridge. “1 don't think they liked my barging In on them, and Miss Van Alstyn looked frankly wondering when I asked for the crescent Yes, she had taken it back, she told me, her eyes reverting to the cards; ahe rather thought she’d get herself another oa« and ao didn’t want a duplicate about Certainly 1 could look at it if I wished; It was somewhere In her room, sh« supposed vaguely. “Just ask Aasoa to find it" I closed the door upon bei faintly breathed but perfectly audible* “Extraordinary.” But Anson could not find that cres cent She promised to bring it up t« me when she did. “Maybe she locked It up with her Jewels.” the auggsatai ao BE CONTINUED) E ******************* I STAR ! ★ * * ★ * * * DUST * .Movie • Radio ★ ★ * * * * ★ ***By VIRGINIA VALE*** J UST one more bit of informa tion" about that New York va cation of Robert Taylor’s. His popularity with the fans was so great and took the home office so by surprise (they’d known he was popular, but hadn’t expected that the fans would storm his hotel in such numbers) that bodyguards were engaged for him. Anyone getting off the elevators at his floor was questioned. No one was allowed to go to his suite,,, without a lot of to-do. The sad re sult of that was that friends whom he’d urged to come to see him, nam ing the time, found it practically impossible to get in to see him; in fact, one old friend was about to be turned away, but when she asked only that he be told that she’d been there, and he was, young Robert came rushing out and dragged her in. He was practically exhausted by all the furore. But he kept his head through it all. —*— Herbert Marshall has turned mer; he’s bought a forty-acre place in southern California, and op timistically thinks he’s going to rest there till he has to go to work in “Por trait of a Rebel” with Katherine Hepburn. But — he’s super vising the building of a house. And all of us who’ve ever owned a farm know what a menace it can be. You begin planting, and culti vating. and first thing you know, that farm is the only important in terest in your life except for your family. There's no rest on a farm! Gloria Swanson seems to have hit bottom so far ma her career is con cerned. But yon never can tell about her; ahe hat a way of bounc ing back when people say ahe’e through. Off the screen land she's been off It n long time, since that last pictnrs of hen turned out so badly) she looks young and pretty, and no doubt she'll he laa good role ftnt thing anybody At least she's not reached the place where ahe’e appearing la “Holly wood Boulevard.” the picture that’a to show us the old timert way hack to the time of Maurice Costello. THE CHEERFUL CHERUB I picked e. lot of flower bods. How soon they met tbeir doom! It must be fierce to be e bod And never get to bloom. «.TC"r WNU Sarvlce. 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Get a large box pf NADINOLA Cream at your favorite toilet counter or by mail, postpaid, only fiOe. NADINOLA. Box 45. Paris.T. Different, Nevertheless You can’t always tell the dif ference between optimism and guff. Mufti PfUfftfHJnf JRrUlikiB IO< •!()« nS* botHrS SmOC WHITS wWi % CHAM Of course It was a foregone con clusion that somebody would leap to the front with a picture based on the veterans’ receiving their bonus money. Metro grabbed the idea for Wallace Beery, and had camera men planted all over the place shooting bits that could be woven in as local color. , You’ll want to see W C Fields In *‘Poppy”; he makes it a grand picture. Rochelle Hudson and Rob ert Cromwell take care of the love story, but Fields is so delightful that most of us wouldn’t care if the authors had opiitted everything but his scenes. —4— If you girls have ever thought that you'd like to dance in a Fred Astaire-Ginger Rog ers picture, glance at this list of qualifi- cations ; RKO’s iance director, Hermes Pan, will test all applicants by them before he selects the twenty- five girls who will work in “I Won’t Dance.” A girl must be a whirlwind tap danc- Fred Astaire er who can do every step in a tap routine; she must be not more than five feet, five inches tall, not less than five feet, two. She must mave a perfect figure and a face which photographs well. She must have personality that gets over to audiences, and must be able to average 99 per cent in a physical examination—so that she can stand ten-hour days of rehearsals without cracking. Oh yes—applicants who are brunettes will be given the preference, other things being equal, and if they aren’t they’ll have to wear wigs. ODDS AND ENDS . . . Greta Garbo has startled Hollywood by buying a new car, a big one at that . . . She's being paged to make a picture in England . . . Gene Raymond gave the John Mack Browns « ten-year-old car when they cel ebrated their tin wedding anniversary .. . Marguerite Churchill and George O’Brien are starting east for a vacation . . . May be the stage will grab her again . . . Charlie Chaplin tvaf in an automobile accident the other day—not serious, for tunately . . . Donald Woods may appear in that Buffalo Bill picture, playing the hero as a young man . . . “Private Num- ber” is one of the pictures you won’t worst to .mist . . And if you want to see colored pictures mt their best, drop in at “Dancing Pirate • W«atM* MaHxfxpw Ujmo*. 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