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Page 16 text:
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THE REFLECTOR C L I F T O N HIGH SC H O O L FEBRUA R Y. 9 2 3 “Registered letter, as I thought,” lie mus- ed. But the real value was the rest of it: Hon. Montague Ashland, personal letter Care of Waldorf-Astoria Hotel New York City, L’. S. A. The letter bore the stamp mark of London. “Montague Ashland.” he ejaculated in sur- prise. “He had the nerve to sign his own name? Why of course. My mind must be slowing up. Why didn’t I think of that before? This is his proof. Because it is a personal let- ter, he is the only one who can receive it, having to sign his name in the presence of the postman. Therefore he must have signed his real name on the hotel register. That's my case.” Without even waiting to read the inside of the letter. Mac slipped it back to its proper position and rushed down to the lobby to have an interview with that important register. By the same mys- terious lifting of his coat lapel, he was able to borrow the register, which he returned in less than ten minutes to its proper place. Now that his work was done, Mac Donald purchased passage for home. It was while he was signing his name on the ship’s registry that he also encountered the name of John Brainard. “Well, of all coincidences,” he chuckled. “He must have gone to buy his ticket while I was in his room. That means I had better keep out of his sight.” The return trip was a cheerful one for Mr. Brainard. He was sure in his belief that his gray beard and gray hair, together with his assumed name and secrecy in the manner of his departure, had insured a victory for him. There was no longer need for secrecy. He had reach- ed his destination, left it, and was already on the wav home with his letter of proof securely planted in the inner pocket of his coat. Yes, he would go straight to Oakley’s office in Scot- land Yard and collect his money. Not that he needed it, but just to satisfy his own particular whim. Through a little influence with those higher up, Brainard was able to leave the boat as soon as it had docked. He hired the speediest cab and paid an enormous sum to be rushed to the High Commissioner’s office in Scotland Yard. He burst into the office smiling. “Well, well, Art. I’m here. Have you got that 1,000 pounds handy?” He laughed with the excitement of victory. Commissioner Oak- ley looked up from his desk. His face lit up as he recognized his old friend. He jumped up and eagerly grasped Ashland’s hand. “Glad to see you again. Monty. But you don’t get that thousand until 1 hear from In- spector Earle.” “Inspector Earle?” Oakley smiled at the quizzical expression of his friend. “Likely enough you’ve met him on your trip,” he added. He looked up as a knock sounded on the door. “Come in,” he invited. The door opened to its full width to permit the entrance of a person of extended abdominal regions. “Dunner Wetter,” the newcomer ejaculated, as his eyes lit on Ashland. “If id aind my olt friend. Mister Brainard!” Ashland looked up in surprise as he recog- nized the roily polly Dutchman. He could ac- count in no way for his presence here. Oakley enjoyed the scene immensely, and finally man- aged to say, “All right, Earle. Be yourself.” “Earle?” shouted Ashland incredulously. “That’s me.” “Well, Earle, what luck did you have?” questioned his chief. “Just enough to beat my man, chief.” “I beaten?” exclaimed Ashland with re- turning confidence. “1 don’t think so. Here’s my proof.” He drew from his pocket the pre- cious letter. He continued to explain; “You’ll notice it is a registered letter addressed: Mr. Montague Ashland, personal letter,” mailed to New York. Therefore, to have it in my pos- session, I must have received it in New York where I had to be indenti tied in order to receive it. Is that proof enough?” Ashland asked triumphantly. “Yes, more than enough,” Oakley answered. “And what have you to say?” he continued, ad- dressing Inspector Earle. The Inspector in silence drew out a photograph which he handed to his superior. The Commissioner glanced at it and smiling- ly passed it over to Ashland. It was but a photograph of a page from the register of the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, for June 9. 1924. Sec- ond on the list appeared: “Hon. Montague Ash- land. London.” Ashland smiled good-naturedly: “I’m a good loser. You win, but I’m not convinced yet. You won, not because you have a good force, but because you have one corking good man Walter Mattheis, June '25. PACE FOURTEEN
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Page 15 text:
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the reflector CLIFTON HIGH SCHOOL FEBRUAR Y, 9 2 5 “I peen go and get meinself some breakfast ' he said apologetically. And he left as fast as his short legs could comfortably carry him. When he reached his stateroom, he quickly pull- ed out a small notebook and wrote in it hastily: “Short trip—returning immediately.” Just so I don’t forget,” he added with a smile. Chapter II. High Comissioner Oakley lounged comfort- ably in his favorite Morris chair at the Bache- lors’ Club in London. He carelessly fingered a legal document, and smiled to himself as he pictured some amusing scene in his mind. Again he scanned the sheet and began reading it for a third time: A friendly wager of 1,000 pounds between the Hon. Montague Ashland and the Hon. High Commissioner Arthur Oakley depends upon the following conditions: 1. That the Hon. Montague Ashland must leave Great Britain at some time between the dates of June 1, 1924 and August 1, 1924. 2. That the said journey must be at least one hundred (100) miles by sea from any part of Great Britain. .'3. That the Hon. Montague Ashland must make this trip without the knowledge of the Hon. High Commissioner or any of his sub- ordinates. 4. That the Hon. Montague must have proof of having made such a journey. The fulfillment of all of the aforesaid pro- visions insure a victory for the Hon. Montague Ashland. A victory for the Hon. High Commissioner provides: 1. That the Hon. High Commissioner, through the work of any of his Inspectors of Scotland Yard, must secure proof of the where- abouts of the Hon. Montague Ashland during said journey. 2. That the proof, in both eases, must be of such a nature that it can be brought before judges to determine its validity. Signed “It was one jolly debate wdiile it lasted,” one was saying. “And it started in a manner most friendly, and from a mere casual remark.” Another took up the story from here, and. in his eagerness to get it out, he floundered ter- ribly with the details. “The Commissioner up and boasts that his force could keep track of a person no matter where he went; and Monty flares up and says he’s pretty shifty and he guesses he’d be one devil to try to track. One word after another, and pretty soon there was nothing left to do but to try it. winner take all. And if you’ll just take a peak at the Commissioner over there, you’ll see he ain’t losing any sleep over the outcome.” Oakley was confident, and he made no effort to hide it. His ro’l was set on Leslie Earle, the man he had selected for the ease. As the newcomer sauntered over to his chair, Oakley just had to spill out some of that confidence. “Monty may be able to lead a merry chase, but I’ll bet before this trip is over, he’ll be on friendly terms with my man without knowing his blunder.” His listener only shrugged his shoulders and said rather wisely, “You are rawther confident in the extreme. But since I traveled through America I find that the best attitude is to say T reside in Missouri; the remits must be brought within my vision.’ ” Chapter III. Mr. Brainard was very much surprised when, as the days passed, he did not again encounter his cheerful Saxon friend. He had believed that he would not be able to get rid of that person after their first meeting. Indeed, just out of- curiosity, he finally went to look for him; yet lie could not locate that individual, for all the immensity of his body. Mr. Oberstaum had disappeared completely. Some hours before docking at New York, a short, stocky Scotchman strolled past the light- ly dozing Brainard. As the boat docked he was right behind the elderly gentleman. He was close after him as he entered the lobby of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, and, as the result of a quick lifting of the lapel of his coat, succeeded in securing a room next to the man lie was per- sistently following without even having to sign for it. Not that he entered it, but it might be of use in the future. The following morning, Mac was present in the lobby when Mr. Brainard was signing his name for a registered letter. “I must see that letter,” he muttered to him- self. “It might be important and it might not.” The next day he made it his business to secure entrance to Mr. Brainard’s room while that person was out. “It’s a gambler’s chance,” MacDonald mum- bled to himself. The letter might not amount to shucks, while he might be out stealing a lap on me.” MacDonald had no difficulty find- ing the letter. Brainard had taken no pains to hide it, merely slipping it in his brief case. Mac pulled it out eagerly and read the envelope. PAGE THIRTEEN
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Page 17 text:
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THE RE F LECTOR C LIFTON II I c; II SC II () O L FEBRUARY. 1925 CROSS WORDS AND PUZZLES “I’ve just been calling on Mrs. Rodney, Syl- via and she says Edith is—.” “What’s a five letter word meaning to irri- tate mother?” interrupted Sylvia whose seventeen years had been dedicated to the pur- suits of happiness. “Sylvia ” said Mrs. l)aye sharply, “you don’t pay a bit of attention when I speak to » 9 you. “Wha’j’ say?” mumbled Sylvia. Then, glancing up from her cross word puzzle, she caught a glimpse of her mother’s face. “Oh mother!” she exclaimed. “What were you say- ing, dear? I’ve been working so hard trying to solve this puzzle that I wasn’t paying at- tention to you.” Then laughing she jumped up and kissed her mother adding, “You know. I’ll have to work hard to win that cross-word puzzle contest.” Mrs. Dave smiled. “That cross word con- test, Sylvia, isn’t the only important thing on earth. You shouldn’t take it so seriously. Do vou know that several people have asked me what makes you act so queerly lately? They say you don’t even speak when they meet you on the street.” “Never mind, dear. When I win my prize I’ll take all my friends out for a good time to make up for it.” “Well, do as you think best,” said Mrs. Daye, as she watched the dark head again bent over the puzzle. Mrs. Dave was quite worried about Sylvia, and broached the matter to Mr. Daye that evening, saying, “Suppose she doesn't win.” But Mr. Daye merely laughed and said he’d “bet on Sylvia.” And when Rob Arnold call- ed on Miss Sylvia that evening and he whisper- ed to his wife that there was “something to oc- cupy her mind,” Mrs. Dave let the matter drop. But- After warmly greeting her guest, Sylvia seated herself beside him. Now Rob privately thought Sylvia was the nicest girl in town; and as he wasn’t the only fellow who thought so, he was greatly flattered. “What’s that you’ve got? he asked, noticing a pencil and paper in her hands. “It’s a cross-word puzzle. Let's work it out together. What’s a five letter word meaning pertaining to wood spirits?” “Elfin,” laughed Bob good naturedly. “Say, Sylvia, suppose we go to the movies tonight. We’ll be in time for the second show and there’s a great picture playing.” “Movies? Oh no! Not tonight. I’d rather do this puzzle. What on earth is harmful in six letters?” “Search me. Say, are you going to that dance with me next week?” “Hooray! Dance just fits in here for a—.” “Oh, cut that puzzle, Sylvia. I didn’t come here to solve cross-word puzzles.” “No? Now what can a—” “No. 1 didn’t,” emphatically. “Why, Rob, it’s fine sport. You ought to—” “Sorry, Sylvia, but solving cross-word puz- zles isn’t exactly my idea of amusement.” “What is your idea of amusement?” queried Sylvia absently with her mind on her puzzle. “To make love in a silly manner,” she mur- mured, reading one of the definitions. “What do you mean,” cried Rob, bis face assuming a very bright hue. “Huh?” exclaimed Sylvia, struck by his tone. “What’s the matter?” she asked, for Rob had suddenly risen. “If that’s all you think of me I’ll be on my way,” said Rob angrily. “What do you mean? Are you mad because I’ve been doing that puzzle? If you are—” “Puzzle!” roared Rob, “What do I care about that puzzle? But when a girl tells me I’m a fool who makes love for amusement, then I guess I retire.” “Rob,” began Sylvia, “I didn’t call you a fool. Why, I don’t understand you. I’ve been reading off these definitions and now you fly at me like this.” “Definitions,” grunted Rob, “You just show me where it say’s ‘A fool who makes love for amusement.’ ” “You must be mistaken,” said Sylvia help- lessly. Then, as she ran her eye over the puz- zle definitions, her face suddenly brightened. “Oh, here it is! ‘To make love in a silly man- ner. That wasn’t referring to you—it’s just one of the definitions.” Rut Rob refused to be convinced. Without even looking at the paper, he walked to the door. “I’m going,” he said shortly. “Goodnight.” “Oh, Bob,” began Sylvia, following him, but he left her without another word. “Gee! Isn’t lie peevish?” thought Sylvia. “Peeved—p-e-ev-e-d. That just fits in for out of sorts,” and she hurried back to her puzzle. Nevertheless, Sylvia thought more of the in- cident than she cared to admit; and when she next met Rob and received a politely co’d greeting, she was in no way relieved. PAGE FIFTEEN
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