University of South Carolina Libraries
I 04040K>4©*C$0* I EQUAL s» K »» By HOV/ARD FIELDING n »t Copyright, '1901, by Charles W. Hooke. g5^°S§JSS?SSoSStSsSSSiSSSS5S$SS$SSSS$SSSSS$Sio*< rilAF’TER XIX. THE EVIHEXCE OF DR. BLAIR. K. BLAIR’S office was beginning to gather the night shadows in its corners whi n El meudorf entered, al though the long June day was slfQ bright without. The doctor was sitting on his couch, staring at the pretty pillow that Kendall had noticed. He had not troubled himself to rise as he called. “Come in!" in response to the detective’s knock. “Mr. Elmendorf." said he. "good even ing, sir. What can I do for you?” “I want to a$k you a few questions, doctor.” replied Elmendorf. "Hello! Had a burglary?” He pointed to a desk in the corner that seemed to have been broken open. ‘‘There was a blankbook that had contained a business memorandum.” he said, “and it was locked up in that desk. A frieud of mine was so anxious to see it that, calling in my absence, he did not wait for me to return. He broke the desk and got the (took. But, unluckily for him. I had already re moved the page on which the memo randum appeared.” “Blackmail?” queried Elmendorf. “Something of the sort.” was the re ply- “If 1 can be of any assistance, let me know.” said the detective. “And now 1 want to talk about the case of Elsie Miller. There’s a little medical point”— “Why don’t you ask Kendall?” “Dr. Kendall is not talkative,” said Elmendorf, "and”— "Neither am I,” responded Blair. “However, let's hear your question.” “You remember.” said Elmendorf, seating himself and looking across the table in the center of the room, his arms resting upon It. “that Miss Miller was stabbed in a peculiar way. There was a little mark, a scar you might call it, just below the collar bone on the left side”— “The mark of what we call a ‘green’ fracture,” said Blair; “that Is, the bone was broken in youth. 1 understand she fell against a sharp point of some thing while she was at play. The rib at that spot was permanently weaken ed and somewhat depressed afterward, but not enough to Interfere with the lung.” “It was no disfigurement when she w’ore a low cut dress, was It?” asked Elmendorf. “Quite the contrary,” replied Blair. “It looked like a large dimple.” “An ordinary man wouldn’t have known what It was, eh?” “Probably not.” “The knife couldn't have struck there by accident,” said Elmendorf. “It looks to me like one of those freaks of a murderer who has brooded over the crime in advance.” “Curious point.” said Blai/. “So It seemed to me.” said Elmen dorf, “and here’s another. Of course the mau who stabbed her meant to kill her.” “Certainly.” “A thief would have struck her on the bead.” “I should think likely.” “So this was a murder case,” said Elmendorf. "There was the intention to kill. Now. why didn't the murderer strike again?” “He probably thought the wound ■was fatal.” responded Blair. “That’s the queer part of It,” said the detective. “1 wouldn’t have thought It was fatal. Most murderers go on stabbing; they strike half a dozen times In a sort of frenzy. This mau was content with one blow, but It was a good one. and if the knife blade hadn't been bent”— "Was It bent?” inquired Blair. “Yes,” was the reply. “And If the assassin was one who knew* the loca tion of the vital organs, but was at the time too much excited to notice the defect In the Instrument, why, then, that bend in the blade may have saved her life.” “If it Is saved.” added Blair. “It was certainly saved for a time,” said the detective, “though every doc-i tor who saw the wound immediately pronounced it fatal. That’s a point in the case.” “From \vhlch you conclude—what?” said Blair, rising and taking a seat at the table opposite Elmendorf. The detective did not Immediately answer the question. He seemed to be deep In thought “By the way,” he said suddenly, “there’s another point while 1 remem ber it. I mean that letter.’' “What letter?” • “The one Alden wrote and Elsie nev er got,” replied Elmendorf. “The post man really delivered it. of course, though he won’t testify positively. It was undoubtedly put by the servant under the door of the vestibule, that lit tle hall leading to Miss Miller's room. It was put under that door, but not far enough.” “Not far enough?” “No. Somebody came along and pulled It out. If It happened to lie a man who was In love with Miss Miller, the reading of It eouldnU have been pleasant. But how did the man jf.-t Ahere?" “1 don’t know.” said Blair. “As to the motive,” continued the de tective, “that’s pretty clear now. Miss Miller has told about her marriage. She hasn’t named the man. but you know him.” “Yes." said Blair; "1 know him.” He took up a very little hottie from tiie table and began to turn it idly in his hands. “Now. then,” said Elmendorf. “let’s recapitulate. The murderer was a man who knew of that scar.” “Anybody might have seen that,” re joined Blair. “He knew what it was,” continued Elmendorf. “He also was a man who at the first glance believed that wound which lie luid inflicted to be fatal. We conclude that he was a doctor.” “Very pretty.” said Blair. “The individual subsequently tried to poison Miss Miller,” said the detective, “and ids way of doing it also bears out the theory that he was one who had a knowledge of medl'eine. He knew just what poison to employ, and he guessed that there would he some sort of food substance in the room into which the poison could be put. Now, besides being a doctor, what was he?” “A scoundrel. 1 should say,” replied Blair. “He was a man who could go in and out of Mrs. Simmons’ house when he pleased.” said Elmendorf. “He was not one who depended upon any Im perfect catch of a door. Perhaps he had lived In the bouse and had never given up his key. Anyhow it is certain that he went to see Miss Miller at i) o’clock in the morning, an hour when most men would not think they had a right to call, hut one who claimed to be her husband might. He saw that letter sticking out from under the door. He stole It. and he said after reading It, ‘If not mine, then no man’s.’ He was a murderer in his heart, then.” “You mean to Imply.” said Blair, “that he had been accustomed to go in and out of that house without ringing the bell; that he was her husband, though she would not see him except when he presented himself at her door to plead and to be sent away, with bis heart on fire. Well, 1 think that may be true.” “Undoubtedly.” said Elmendorf, “but who was the man ?” There was a rap at the door, and Blair said “Excuse me” quite conven tionally as he crossed the room to open It. He exchanged some words with a servant and for a few seconds stood outside, but his left hand was always visible upon the door, as Elmendorf carefully noted. When he returned to his seat, he set down the very small bottle upon the table. “I had reasoned so far early In the case,” continued Elmendorf. “and had even made an experiment with a per son whom 1 had suspected. 1 cut my hand and let him bandage it, though that proved not to lie necessary, for the man acquitted himself Instantly by saying that 1 had cut ’an artery’ when there was plainly no arterial bleeding, ' to say nothing of the location of the in jury. So he surely wasn’t a doctor.” “You seem to be quite an educated man.” said Blair dreamily. “Have you learned anything in this life that would help you lead another If yon bad one?" “Very little. I’m afraid.” said Elmen dorf; “but let us proceed. I had proved that the man was a doctor, and then came the Philadelphia story. You know what happened over there. The husband ran out for a doctor. That floored me at first, and 1 bad to think it out.” "1 was afraid she was poisoned,” said Blair calmly, “and dared not be alone with her If she should die.” “You!” exclaimed Elmendorf, rising. “You! Well”—and he sat down again —’’It doesn’t surprise me!" “You came here to get me,” respond ed Blair. “I knew It as soon as you sat down there. 1 had no chance. f//« left hand vaa aluaya vialble upon the door. though she promised to shield me In r<*- turn for my clearing Miss Muclnne. She’d have done it anyway, of course. That she had already proved. She was ashamed, ashamed, deadly ashamed, and sirk to the soul of her for having ever loved me. Well, It’s all over. If you know what happened in Philadel phia. It only remained for you to find the New York doctor. lie’s In Europe, however; left a week or more ago. His name is Osborne. Any more In formation 1 can give yon. Mr. Elmen dorf? It’s all up. 1 might as well talk” - - “Why didn’t you run?” demanded Elmendorf. “I staid to play the game out.” re plied Blair. “There was money in view, and I love money, my friend; also 1 love life. How absurd, hut 1 do—now that it’s over! Think of it! And there isn't a man in New York this minute as wretched as I am. Why, I'd just heard from the hospital, and 1 was sitting there on that couch, staring at the pillow she made for me. think ing of the endless stitches and the love — i.Uneinlorl, she told me hat every one of them was sewed with love for me. Why does that stick in my mind? Why couldn’t I be straight? Well, well, I’m done for—done for!” Elmendorf eyed the man etr^uisly. His face was flushed as if with fever, and his words wore thickly uttered and hurried, as with delirium. “You didn’t get the money?” said Elmendorf. “Money!” echoed Blair. “For the first time in my life I forgot that there was such a tiling. I read that letter, as you guessed, and I was crazed. 1 knew she was holding her secret, and would put him oft' for shame, and be cause she treasured up something lie had said that frightened her—about some woman who ran away to be mar ried. Well, I went there that after noon; I talked with her, raved at her and then—well, you know what happened. I thought every one would know I did it. We had had more meet ings in the last few weeks than you’d believe possible,” he rambled on, “hut then nobody cares what his neighbor does here in New York. Our whole ro mance passed without notice. I was on the balcony when Robinson came.” “Did you know that be returned?” asked Elmendorf. “Returned?” “He left his cane in the room, got outside the house, got in again because the lock hadn't caught and entered the room, thinking that he hud heard an answer to his knock. There was the money right on the table, and no body in sight, you and Miss Miller being on the balcony between the win dows. He needed money, and he took It, ami I traced it. The man's at head quarters now. He tried to skip, but he was shadowed at the time, as I knew and he didn’t.” “1 thought Neale got the money.” said Blair, starting as if from a doze. “Robinson will be released.” said Elmendorf. “There’ll be no complaint. This whole case will be covered up.” “Covered up?” echoed Blair, and he laughed. “I’ll be covered up—in my grave, and, by , Elmendorf, I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die! Can you understand that?” “Don’t die, then.” said Elmendorf; “there’s no need V>f it. I shan’t trouble you. I could make a lot of mouey by letting you alone, and I'm going to do It for nothing, or. to be exact. I’m going to do it for Elsie Miller. You’ll go scot free, Blair, you black hearted, lying brute!” Blair suddenly rose to his feet He seemed to be impossibly tall as he stood there with raised shoulders and clinch ed hands, staring down at Elmendorf. “Do you mean to say that you have not come here to take me?” he demand ed. “That’s what I mean.” said Elmen dorf. “You can go where you please, and you’d better go as fast as you can. for Alden may be here at any moment Perhaps you have observed certain physical peculiarities of Mr. Alden? 1 seem to hear your bones crack, Blair, Id his hands.” Blair gave utterance to a terrible oath. “Do you know what I have done?" he cried in a voice that sent a chill to Elmendorfs heart “Look here!” He lifted the small bottle and then dashed it down to shivers. “I’m done for! I’ve taken enough of that to kill three men. No electric chairs for me. And now—I might have lived! I might have gone abroad. 1 could have had money—found a new life; but I’m a dead man.” He had wrenched open the door of a locker upon the wall, but at the last words be turned to launch a frightful curse at Elmendorf. “I may still save myself,” be bab bled, and there was a rattling of bot tles In the cupboard. “This Is It. Great heavens! There is hardly enough. Bring me that water.” Elmendorf started to comply, but his speed did not equal Blair’s Impatience, and the latter sprang forward so that they came together. There was a tinkling of glass upon the floor. Blair sprang back, his face dripping and ghastly red with the poison. “It’s all I have!” he cried. “It’s my last chance! And you—you did It!” With Incredible strength and sudden ness he seized a heavy paperweight from the table and aimed a fearful blow at Elmendorf. The detective reel ed for an instant and then fell face downward upon the floor, where he lay perfectly still. Blair glanced at him once, then rush ed to a mirror near the window and stared at Ids own livid face. “There may be time!” lie gasped, one hand clutching his breast. “If 1 can get to a drug store”— He seized iiis hat Instinctively and rushed to the door, through which he passed Into tin* hall. “Dr. Blair,” said a remembered voice. “I must speak with you. Come bark with me. Where is Elmendorf? Have you seen him?” I* ran tic. he tried to shake off the hand that was on his arm. but the band was of iron. He babbled unintelligible words. “Poison!” cried Alden. “Who Is poi soned? Come back bere to the light.” And lie thrust Blair Into the oillce, practically carrying the man at arm's length. Utterly Insane with the fear of death. Blair struck at Ids captor vainly and screamed like n child Elmendorf was struggling to his feet as they entered, and Alden uttered a cry at the sight of him. “Idd he do this?” lie exclaimed, pointing at Blair, whom he had re leased. Elmendorf pressed his hand upon his hair, which was wet with blood. “Yes.” lie said hoarsely; “this—and the other!” Alden paused an Instant, the strength of Ids body gathering for effort. Then he leaped forward and seemed to pass half through, half over, the hotly of Blair, as if it had been a ghost in garments. Turning, he saw Blair lying upon the floor, his limbs contort ed, his face bearing the unmistakable stamp of death. Elmendorf staggered forward and knelt beside the body. “We’re going to keep her secret.” he said. “Her name must not appear in this. We must see what the man has in his poekets ami in the room. Some of these fellows make strange memo randa.” "Brenda lias told me the story,” said Alden. “It could not be concealed. In fact, I bad got so much from the nurse you bribed that the remainder matter ed little. And this man was her hus band, this cowardly wretch, this assas sin of women!” i "He was also an inventor of women.” saiil Elmendorf. “And 1 never knew a shrewder trick.” “Do you mean that lie lied about see ing one?” “There was no mysterious woman in the case,” replied Elmendorf. "It was a pure fiction and worthy of its author. He was clever, and for a thor oughgoing scoundrel— Hello! What’s this?” He had drawn a sheet of paper from Blair’s pocket, and after a glance at it he handed It to Alden, who read that Arthur Gordon Blair and Joseph Neale, captain of police, were equal partners. This story will be continued in next Friday’s issue of The Ledger. FOR GOOD ROADS. Association Formed to Connect State Capitals Wltb Washington. In New York city recently an associ ation was formed to agitate the cause of good roads. This association, which has adopted the name of the American Uoadmakers, has in view the securing of a system of highways which shall connect the capitals of the various states with Washington. The first ef fort will be made by an appeal to the national government to appropriate $1,- 000,000, to he used through the road inquiry department, to map out routes from capital to capital. This organization Is to be divided in to departments of the east, south, cen tral and west, corresponding to geo graphical lines. It was decided to limit the membership to ten from each state until each state stiould have ten representatives. Then another ten would become eligible. The president Is elected for one year. He will be suc ceeded by the‘first vice president, and the succession to office will be in this way. The following officers were elected: Senator Horatio S. Earle of Detroit, president; Edward Bond of Albany, first vice president; R. H. Thompson of Seattle, second vice president; Judge Warner of Houston, Tex., third vice president; W. Crandall of New York, secretary, and W. L. Dickinson of Springfield, Mass., treasurer. Assist ance has been promised by the road in quiry department in securing the exhi bition at St. Louis of the various road making machines; also, various road- building firms will build ihort stretches of road at the exposition, which will be examined by experts. Earl? Asphalt Roads. History and tradition have furnisher us with the basic inforn'ation which has guided us in building the civiliza tion of today. It la said that in prehis toric times the Incas of Peru built roads that extended from the tropical ly heated valleys up the mountains to the regions of perpetual frost, using the natural asphalt rock, and these roads are In good condition today. The discovery of a large section in Ken tucky covered with asphalt rock, which scientists have pronounced a perfect and natural combination of asphalt and quartz sand, most valuable for paving purposes aud far superior to any artificial combination that could be made. Is of vital importance, says the American Asphalt Journal. The day may not be far distant when ev ery city and village will have all streets paved with asphalt rock, a material which Is not only the most durable, but cleanly and noiseless. What Good Iloada Do. Good roads, like good streets, makt habitation along them most desirable. They economize time and force In transportation of products, reduce wear and tear on horses, harness and ! vehicles and enhance the market value of real estate. They raise the value of farm lands and farm products ami tend to beautify the country through which they puss. They facilitate ru ral mall delivery and are a potent aid to education, religion aud sociability. Charles Sumner onee said. “The road and the schoolmaster are the two most Important agents In advancing elvlli- zutiou.” Pnjr lifindnofnr Dividends. The difference between good’and bad roads is often equivalent to the differ- emv between profit and loss. Good roads have u money value to the farm ers as well us a political and social value, and. leaving out convenience, comfort, social and refined influences which good roads always enhance and looking at them only from the uimigh- ty dollar side, they are found to pay handsome dividends «*sch year. Edacats Your Bowels With Cuacarets. Camty Cathartic, earn constipation forever. 10c Kc If C O. C ficl.'.trutocUtsrefund money. DAIRY FARMING.! In Modern Times It Is Practically h Maim- taring Husiness. Modern dairy farming is just as much a husiness as any other com- ; mercial or muoufacturing undertak ing. It affords the same opportuni ties—in a practical sense, it is a manufacturing business. The land, the feed and the degree of care used are the dairv farmer’s raw materials: the cow, the cream separator, churn, . butter woiker, cans, coolers and other utensils, are his tools and machinery, and the sale of the mi!k, •ream or butter is the marketing of his product. The prosperity of his business is largely of his own making, just as it is that of any other. The success of the creamery business, lik- that of any other, depends on good management. The creamery patron muse understand that this concerns i I him, since he is not going to receive • more for his milk than the creamery i management makes out of it in its : conversion into butter and market- I mg. All these things modify the good or piofitable effects of the feed. The cow is in our hands; she cannot help herself. She cannot change her bad. unfavorable condition, or her food ; the owner must do tiiat, or else he wastes his costiy food. Then lastly comes the character of the cow to which we feed this food. Were she rightly organized, 1 think the farmers should take more pains to breed up there milk cows, as it costs as much or more to teed a scrub than it does a good cow. What I call a good cow is one that you can make from 425 to 450 pounds of batter per year. It isn’t the amount of milk that a cow gives that makes her valuable, but the quality with quantity. It is claimed by experts that you cannot increase the butter fat in milk by feeding, but you can im-rease the quantity of milk. I believe one can increase the per cent, of butter in milk by good care and feeding over a long period of time,, although I would not recommend that way to get a good cow out of a poor one. I believe the best way if you can afford to buy full-blooded stock to begin with, is to get the best cows you can aud breed them to full- blooded bulls. I prefer the Jersey for milk and butter production ; they are the best butter cows in the world. I have known them to give twenty- one pounds of batter per week. I can’t see why every cotton raiser ci aid not have a fine bard of dairy cattle and enjoy the benefit of the profits of a daily caab income from a good business. I am convinced that every single cotton farmer could make enoogh from a good dairy for a living, and have bis entire cotton crop for profit. This would not only give him the proceeds of the products of the dairy, but also increase the value of bis farm by the buildings required for the stock, as well as enhance the fertility of the soil. I am farther convinced that advancing the dairy interest would not increase tbe dairy products in general, for I honestly believe that every quart of good milk and every pound of good butter will make an increased demand for double that amount In tbe South. There is a practice with many dairymen of selling off tbe bull when be gets four or ive years old and rep aciog Mm with a younger oie This is wrong; no bull ought to be sold until a number of bis heifers come to tbe pail and prove bis value as a sire. It is right to select vour breeding bull largely by tbe charac ter of his ancestors; but all bulls have an individnality that cannot certainly be known until their daugh ters prove whether they are good or bad. Tbe old sayiog that there is one black sheep in every family is just as true of animals as of men, and there is as likely to be sn extra white one as otherwise. Walt and see whether your ball is good or bed. It is not tbe change of food that is tbe cause of her butter being more yellow when the cow gets to psstnre, though that has much to do with it, but it is the sunshine which she gets when out in tbe pasture. It baa been proved that tbe cuw standing in the barn and fed on winter rations gives a higher color to her butter io tbe summer than in tbe winter, and more when her stall is oo tbe south aide of tbesttble where tbe sun can shine in most of the day than when she is kept in a dark stable. It has also been found that as a general rule, or we will say, an invariable rule, ‘other conditions being tbe same, that her milk will be richer in butter fat during a succes sion of bright, pleasant days than at the end of two or three cloudy days, even though the} are not cold or wet. No young animals grow strong and thrifty when confined where they do not get the sunshine. If any farmer or dairyman has bis stables so that tbe sun cannot shine into them most of tbe day.it will pay him well to alter them around to the sunny side. Cut away arid put in more windows, and if he is where cold weather prevails in winter pro vide for double windows with a space between them to give sunlight and still keep out the cold weather. And while making alterations he should not fail to provide for a sys tem of perfect ventilation to insure the health of the animal and the freedom from unplesant or injurious air in the room where the milking is done. Eugene Black. \sthe Couifh Work* Off tin* anil Cold. Laxative Brotno-Quinine Tablets euro a cold In one day. No Cure, no Pay. Price 25 cents. REDUCTO B E D y c T o Is ii pt-rfeetly harmless ve^eta- | hie compound. It posit i v e 1 y and permanently eli minutes corpulency and superfluous flesh. Tt is a CURE ABSOLUTE and as harmless as fresh air. Thousands of patients have used tliis treatment. Physi cians endorse it. Write to us for FREE TREATMENT Send 4 cents to cover postage, etc. (.'orre-poiulence strict Iv confidential. Fverythiiig In plain staled packages. We send you the formula, you can make “Iteducto" at home if you desire; you know the in gredients and need have no fear of evil cJ'eets. Address. GINSENG CHEMICAL C0. ( Iirul S. JefTcr-ou Ave.. ST- LOUIS, MO. y c T o REDUCTO A GOOD ROAD COUNTY RICHMOND, GA., 13 PROUD OF ITS HIGHWAYS. Fine Road* In That County Con* •tracted and Maintained by Con- ▼ let Labor—Plan Very Snccesafnl. Road‘Work In Sooth Carolina. Richmond claims to be the banner county of Georgia in the matter of good roads, and its claim is well found ed. There are about 250 miles of grad ed roads in the county, of which from seventy-five to a hundred are gravel muds and the rest sandy roads surfac ed with clay. The county annually raises about $24,000 for the mainte nance of its chain gang and road Im provement. The roads are entirely con structed and maintained by convict la- , bor. Richmond county has a unique system. William F. Eve, who Is now and has oeen for nearly twenty years tbe com missioner of taxes and revenue, has complete authority for making and ex pending road appropriations. He com- bines in his office the power usually given to the board of county commis sioners. This system of a one man board of commissioners brings more certain action, and where the office Is held by a man who Is such a thorough believer In road Improvement as Is Judge Eve there will be constant im provement In the highways, saya the Louisville Courier-Journal. Richmond had only one or two im proved highways previous to Judge Eve's election to the office of road com missioner. About the time he took the office the county organized and placed in charge of the road department a road engineer and organized the mis demeanor convicts Into a load force. A report made by Judge Eve some time since on the roads of Richmond county is as follows* "The class of worn none In the county was, first, the effort to reduce the grades and give the roads proper drain age. The gravel mads of Richmond county are made from gravel obtained from South Carolina at a point about seventeen miles from Augusta. This material consists of water worn quarts pebbles, cemented together by Iron ox ide and sandy clays. It iKissesses all tbe essentials of a first class road material, and its cheapness (05 cents per ton on board the ears at Augusta) insures its general usage on the highways of Rich mond county.” The cost of constructing roads of this material baa been estimated by Judge Eve at $1,600 per mile. This seems an unusually low estimate when tbe excellent quality and durability of these roads are taken into considera tion. The chain gang of Richmond county consists of about seventy-five convicts, each of whom is said to cost tbe coun ty 30 cents per day. This estimate includes board and clothing of the convicts and the salary of superin tendent, night watchman and eight or ten guards. The testimony as to the convict work is that It is eminently successful and that no better disposition of the con victs could be made than to employ them In this way. It is a pleasure to drive over the Improved roads of Rieb- inond county. They have raised the values of the farm lands in the vicin ity of Augusta very much and have undoubtedly contributed greatly to the growth of the city, which Is one of the most beautiful and enterprising of the smith, having large commercial and manufacturing Interests. South Carolina has moved in the matter of Improved roadways. Several counties have inaugurated systematic roadwork, and the state transfers to the counties from which they were convicted all convicts that were sen tenced to a term of less than five years, and these, with the misdemeanor con victs, give to each county a good rood working force. Most of the counties have purchased more or less improved road machinery. Several road bills are pending In the legislature now in ses sion. One of them is to levy a tax of 1 mill In each county for roadwork. Another is to adopt a state aid system with an annual appropriation of $150- ooq, Money Well Spent. People generally are beginning to realize that roadlmildlng Is a public matter and that the best interests of American agriculture and the Ameri can people as n whole demand the con struction of good roads.