The Barnwell people-sentinel. (Barnwell, S.C.) 1925-current, February 11, 1937, Image 6
i*..
Home Heating
Hints litSSE?
Avoid Unhealthy dry Air—Keep
Radiator Homidifler Fans
Filled With Water.
M ANY winter colds are caused
by hot, dry air in the home
while the season for burning the
furnace is on. Heat, of course,
absorbs the moisture in the air.
This hot air also dries out and
damages furniture.
You can easily and inexpensively
provide for air-moisture by keep
ing a “pan humidifier,’' or hot
water pan, filled with water in
each room of your home. Designed
to hang out of sight on the backs
of radiators, these pans furnish
water that can be evaporated by
the radiator heat and provide mois
ture for the air in the rooms. This
prevents the air from becoming
too dry and lessens the chance of
catching or spreading colds.
Warm air heating plants are
equipped with humidifier pans. All
you have to do is to keep them
filled with fresh water.
Copyright.—WNU Sorvloo.
Ml 8ET RELIEF FROM
WATERY REM COLIS
Because of their “Lalanced
medication/' just two drops
of Penetro Nose Drops help
to open up your nose, soothe
inflammation, let fresh air
break through the watery
mucus. Contain ephedrine and
other approved medication.
25c, 50c and $1 bottles. Ttial
size, 10c. For free
sample of Penetro
Nose Drops, write
Penetro, Dept. D-41,
Memphis, Tenn.
To rtliovo chest colds,
rub with stainless,
snow-white Penetro.
SYNOPSIS
Philo Vance, famous detective and John
T. X. Markham, district attorney for New
York county are dining In Vance’s apart
ment when. Vance receives an anonymous
telephone message Informing him of a "dis
turbing psychological tension at Professor
Ephrlam Garden's apartment" advising
that he read up on radlo-acUve sodium,
consult a passage In the Aeneid and coun
seling that "Equanimity la essential." Pro
fessor Garden la famous In chemical re
search. The message, decoded by Vance,
reminds him that Professor Garden's son
Floyd and hts puny cousin, Woode Swift,
are addicted to horse-racing. Vance says
that "Equanimity” is a horse running next
day in the Rivermont handicap. Vance is
convinced that the message was sent by Dr.
Siefert, the Gardens' family physician. He
arranges to have lunch next day at the
Gardens’ penthouse. Vance Is greeted by
Floyd Garden and meets Lowe Hammle, an
elderly follower of horse racing. Floyd ex
presses concern over Swift's queer actions.
PENETRO
0
Evil of Self-Pity
No aubtler habit of evil is there
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—Bright.
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You can’t eat or sleep. Your head
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Books Speak Plain
Books will speak plain, when
counsellors blanch. — Francis
Bacon.
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Symptoms may be nagging Wfcsi-w
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CHAPTER II—Continued
At this moment we heard the
Bound of light footsteps coming up
the hall, and in the archway, which
constituted the entrance from the
hall into the drawing-room, ap
peared a slight, pallid young man
of perhaps thirty, his head drawn
into his slightly hunched shoulders,
and a melancholy, resentful look on
his sensitive, sallow face. Thick-
lensed pince-nez glasses emphasized
the impression he gave of physical
weakness.
Garden waved his hand cheerily
to the newcomer.
“Greetings, Woody. Just in time
for a spot before lunch. You know
Vance, the eminent sleuth; and this
is Mr. Van Dine, his patient and
retiring chronicler."
Woode Swift acknowledged our
presence in a strained but pleas
ant manner, and listlessly shook
hands with his cousin. Then he
picked up a bottle of Bourbon and
poured himself a double portion,
which he drank at one gulp.
“Good Heavens I" Garden ex
claimed good-humoredly. “How you
have changed. Woody I . . . Who's
the lady now?"
The muscles of Swift’s fact
twitched.
“Oh, pipe down, Floyd," he plead
ed irritably.
Garden shrugged indifferently.
“Sorry- What’s worrying you to
day besides Equanimity?"
“That’s enough worry for one
day." Swift managed a sheepish
g.ru^; then he acfcled aggressively;
“fcan’t ' possibly lose." Ana ne"
poured himself another drink.
“How’s Aunt Martha?"
Garden narrowed his eyes.
“She’s pretty fair. Nervous as
the devil this morning, and smok
ing one cigarette after another. But
she’s sitting up. She’ll probably be
in later to take a crack or two at
the prancing steeds ..."
At this point Lowe Hammle ar
rived. He was a heavy-set, short
man of fifty or thereabouts. He was
wearing a black-and-white checked
suit, a gray shirt, a brilliant green
four-in-hald, a chocolate-colored
waistcoat with leather buttons, and
tan blucher shoes the soles of which
were inordinately thick.
“The Marster of ’Ounds, b’Gad!"
Garden greeted him jovially.
“Here’s your scotch-and-soda; and
here also are Mr. Philo Vance and
Mr. Van Dine."
“Delighted—delighted!" Hammle
exclaimed heartily, coming for
ward.
In a few minutes the butler an
nounced lunch. The conversation
was almost entirely devoted to
horses, the history of racing, the
Grand National, and the possibilities
of the various entrants in the after
noon’s Rivermont Handicap.
Vance contented himself mainly
with listening and studying the oth
ers at the table.
We were nearing the end of the
luncheon when a tall, well-built and
apparently vigorous woman, who
looked no more than forty (though
I later learned that she was well
past fifty), entered the room. She
wore a tailored suit, a silver-fox
scarf and a black felt toque.
“Why, mater!" exclaimed Gar
den. “I thought you were an invalid.
Why this spurt of health and en
ergy?”
He then presented me to his moth
er: both Vance and Hammle had
met her on previous occasions.
“I’m tired of being kept in bed,”
she told her son querulously, after
nodding graciously to the others.
“Now you boys sit right down—I’m
going shopping, and just dropped in
to see if everything was going all
right ... I think I’ll have a creme
de men the frappe while I’m here."
The butler drew up a chair for her
beside Swift, and went to the pantry.
Mrs. Garden put her hand lightly
on her nephew’s arm.
“How goes it with you. Woody?”
she asked in a spirit of cam
araderie. Without waiting for his
answer, she turned to Garden again.
“Floyd. I want you to place a bet
tor me on the big raca today, in
case I’m not back in time."
“Name your poison," smiled Gar
den.
‘Tm playing Grand Scora to win
and place—the usual hundred."
"Right - o, mater." Garden
glanced sardonically at his cousin.
“Less intelligent bets have been
made in these diggin’s full many a
time and oft . . . Sure you don’t
want Equanimity, mater?"
“Odds are too unfavorable," re
turned Mrs. Garden, with a canny
smile.
“He’s quoted in the over-night
line at five to two."
“He won’t stay there." There was
authority and assurance in the wom
an’s tone and manner. “And I’ll
get eight or ten to one on Grand
Score."
“Right you are,” grinned Garden.
"You’re on the dog for a century
win and place." ^ .
The butler brought the creme de
menthe, and Mrs. Garden sipped it
and stood up.
“And now I’m going,” she an
nounced pleasantly. She patted her
nephew on the shoulder. “Take
care of yourself, Woody . . . Good
afternoon, gentlemen." And she
went from the room with, a firm
masculine stride.
“Sneed,” Garden ordered, "fix the
set-up as usual."
I glanced at the electric clock on
the mantel: It was exactly ten min
utes after one.
“Fixing the set-up" waji a com
paratively simple procedure, but a
more or less mysterious operation
for anyone unfamiliar with the pur
pose it was to serve. From a small
closet in the hall Sneed first wheeled
out a sturdy wooden stand about
two feet square • On this he placed
a telephone connected to a loud
speaker which resembled a midget
radio set. As I learned later, it was
a specially constructed amplifier to
enable every one in the room to
hear distinctly whatever came over
the telephone.
On one side of the amplifier was
attached a black metal switch box
with a two-way key. In its upright
position this key would cut off the
A Slight, Pallid Young Man.
voice at the other end of the line
without interfering with the connec
tion; and throwing the key forward
would bring the voice on again.
The butler then brought in a well-
built folding card-table and opened
it beside the stand. On this table
he placed another telephone of the
conventional French, or hand, type.
This telephone, which was gray, was
plugged into an additional jack in
the baseboard. The gray telephone
was not connected with the one
equipped with the amplifier, but
was on an independent line.
When the two instrumen’s and the
amplifier had been stationed and
tested, Sneed brought in four more
card-tables and placed them about
the drawing-room. At each table
he opened up two folding chairs.
Then, from a small drawer in the
stand, he took out a long manila
envelope which had evidently come
through the mail, and, slitting the
top, drew forth a number of large
printed sheets approximately nine
by sixteen inches. There were 15
of these sheets—called “cards" in
racing parlance—and after sorting
them he spread out three on each
of the card-tables.
When the butler had gone Gar
den lifted the receiver from the hook
of the telephone and dialed a num
ber^ After a pause he spoke into the
transmitter: a
“Hello, Lex. B : 2-9-8. Waiting for
the dope." And, laying the receiver
down on the stand, he threw the
switch key forward.
A clear-cut, staccato voice canhe
through the amplifier: “O. K., B-2-
9-8.” Then there was a click, fol
lowed by several minutes of silence.
Finally the same voice began speak
ing: “Everybody get ready. The ex
act time now is one-thirty and a
quarter.—Three tracks today. . The
order will be Rivermont, Texas,
and Cold Springs. Just as you have
them on the cards. Here we go.
Rivermont: weather clear and track
fast. Clear and fast. First post, 2:30.
And now down the line—”
Garden leaned over and threw the
amplifier switch up, and there was
silence in the room. He turned to
his cousin. “Why don’t you take
Vance and Mr. Van Dine upstairs,
and show them around the garden?
... They might," he added with
good-natured sarcasm, “be interest
ed in your lonely retreat on the roof,
where you listen in to your late.
Sneed has probably got it arranged
for you."
Swift rose with alacrity.
‘Damned glad of the chance," he
returned surlily. "Your manner to
day rather annoys me, Floyd." And
he led the way down the hall and
up the stairs to the roof-garden,
Vance and I following.
The stairway was narrow and
semicircular, and led upward from
the hallway near the front entrance.
In glancing back up the hall, to
ward the drawing-room, I noticed
that no section of that room was
visible from the stair end of the
hall. I made this mental note idly
at the time, but I mention it here
because the fact played a very defi
nite part in the tragic events which
were to follow.
At the head of this narrow stair
way we turned left i ito a corridor,
barely four feet wide, at the end of
which was a door leading into a
large room—the only room on the
roof. This spacious and beautiful
ly appointed study, with high win
dows, on all four sides, was used by
Professor Garden, Swift informed
us, as a library and private experi
mental laboratory. Near the door
to this room, on the left wall of
the corridor, was another door, of
calamine, which, I learned later, led
into a small storeroom built to hold
the professor’s valuable papers and
data.
Half-way down the corridor, on
the right, was another large cala
mine weather door which led out
to the roof. This door had been
propped open, for the sun was
bright and the day mild. Swift
preceded us into one of the loveliest
skyscraper gardens I have ever
seen.
We walked leisurely about the
garden, smoking. Swift was a dif
ficult man to talk to, and as the
minutes went by he became more
and more distrait. After a while he
glanced apprehensively at his wrist-
watch.
We’d better be going down,” he
said. “They’ll be coming out for
the first race before long."
Vance gave him an appraising
look and rose.
“What about that sanctum sanc
torum of yours which your cousin
mentioned?" he asked lightly.
“Oh, that ..." Swift forced
an embarrassed smile. “It’s that
red chair over there against the
wall, next to the small table . . .
But I don’t see why Floyd should
spoof about it. The crowd down
stairs always rags me when I lose,
and it irritates me. I’d much rath
er be alone when I get the results."
“Quite understandable," nodded
Vance with sympathy.
.“You see," the man went on rath
er pathetically, "I frankly play the
ponies for the money—the others
downstairs can afford to take heavy
losses, but I happen to need the
cash just now.
Vance had stepped over to the
little table on which stood a desk
telephone which had, instead of the
ordinary receiver, what is known as
a head receiver—that is, a flat disk
ear-phone attached to a curved met
al band to go over the head.
“Your retreat is well equipped,"
commented Vance.
. “Oh, ye*. This is an extension
of the news-service phone down
stairs; and there’s also a plug-in
for a radio, and another for an
electric plate."
He took the ear-phone from the
hook and, adjusting the band over
his head, listened for a moment.
. “Nothing new yet at Rivermont,”
he mumbled. He removed the ear
phone with nervous impatience and
tossed it to the table. “Anyway
we’d better get down." Anil he
walked toward the door by which
we had come out in the garden.
When we reached the drawing
room we found two newcomers—a
man and a woman—seated at one
of the tables, poring over the rac
ing cards and making notations.
Vance and 1 were casually intro
duced to them by Carden.
The man was Cecil Kroon, about
thirty-five, immaculately attired
and sleek, with smooth, regular fea
tures and a very narrow waxed
mustache. He was quite blond, and
his eyes were a cold steely blue.
The woman, whose name was
Madge Weatherby; was about the
same age as Kroon, tail and slen
der, and with a marked tendency
toward theatricalism in both her at
tire and her make-up. Her cheeks
were heavily rouged and her lips
crimson. Her eyelids were shaded
with green, and her eyebrows had
been plucked and replaced with fine
penciled lines.
Garden looked up and motioned
to us—he was holding the receiver
of the black telephone to his ear.
Kroon went to the small bar and
mixed two drinks which he took
back to his table, setting one down
before Miss Weatherby.
“I say, Floyd," he called out to
Garden, “Zalia coming today?f’
“Absolutely," Garden told him.
“She was all stirred up when she
phoned this morning. Full of sure
things."
“Well, what about it?" came a
vivacious feminine voice from down
the hall; and the next moment a
swaggering, pretty girl was stand
ing in the archway, her hands on
her muscular boyish hips. “I’ve
concluded I can’t pick any winners
myself, so why not let the other
guy pick ’em for me? . . Hello,
everybody,” she threw in parenthet
ically . . “But Floyd, old thing,
I really have a humdinger in the
first at Rivermont today. This tip
didn’t come from a stable-boy, ei
ther. It came from one of the stew
ards—a friend of dad’s. And am I
going to smear that hay-burnert*
(TO BE CONTINUUM
'"PHIS is the problem: Sister
* wants to entertain the Girl
Scouts, it’s Jule’s turn to have the
Bid-or-Bi club and Rose insists
she can’t put off the Laff-a-Lots
a minute longer. And each of
them has just finished a new dress
and is anxious to wear it for the
occasion.
Sister’s Choice.
Sister’s bit of intrigue is, as
you can see, a dress worth want
ing to show off (Pattern 1223).
Jt is made fil yeivgtgea. T.he smart-
collar, flattering flared skirt and
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Jnle’s Entertaining Dress.
Jule knows a neat trick when
she sees one whether on the table
or in a page of fashions, and she
didn’t miscue in choosing Pattern
1998. It will look more trig
and lovely after each washing.
The diagram shows why a few
hours is all that’s needed to seiv
this grand number. You may have
it in sizes 34 to 46. Size 36 requires
4% yards of 35 inch material.
With long sleeves 4% yards.
It Was Easy, Says Rose.
They didn’t believe Rose when
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However, the same stunning effect
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Size 14 requires 4% yards of 39
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Send for the Barbara Bell
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Make yourself attractive, practi
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Send your order to The Sewing
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211 W. Wacker Dr., Chicago, 111.
Patterns 15 cents (in coins) each.
G Bell Syndicate.—WNU Service.
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<|
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