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Page 10 text:
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THE CLIVEDEN murder, the very cause of his promotion. At one time during the morning, how- ever, his eye fell on a stack of mail addressed to the Chief of the Detective Bureau. He picked up the letters and looked over them. Most of them had either frank notices on them or permits, but as soon as he saw the red two-cent stamp he startled guiltily, and thought of the murder-a bloody one too, he remembered. By lunch time, however, his mind was at ease again and he complacently ordered a fable-d'h6tc dinner at his restaurant, without looking at the menu, depending on the usually good quality of the meals served there. He began amiably enough, but when tomato soup was brought, he blanched slightly, but ate it. The red color of the 'beets was his downfall, and he hurriedly paid his check and left without waiting for the dessert of strawberries, and a pitcher of cream. Everything red seemed to draw his vision. Red, red, redl Red dresses, red neckties, red automobiles, a sheet of red tissue paper blown into his face, Nickel feracuppa cawffee? from a red-faced vagabond with a red bandana around his neck, red, red, more red! Back in his office sat his secretary with a red dress and writing in a notebook with a red fibre cover. He checked and ap- proved reports with a red pencil, and so on for a week, day after day, bloody red. He grew pale and thin from worry 3 he hardly ate, could not sleep, startled at every sound. The murderer remained undiscovered, and the coroner's jury was quite ready to give its verdict that the Chief had been murdered,-by person or persons unknown as yet. Most of the witnesses had testified and all was running smoothly until Clark himself was called on to tell what he knew of the affair. As he approached the box he tripped over the outstretched limb of a long- legged newspaper reporter. He tried to stop his fall, but in so doing, his outflung arm upset a bottle of red ink. When he had recovered, he stood gazing with horror at the stains on the floor and on his hand. A deep silence fell over the room and the tense atmosphere seemed to indicate that something was about to happen. It did. After a period of painful silence, Clark stumbled rather than walked over to the nearest chair, and with a groan, dropped into it, hiding his face in his hands, stained as they were. He then began to speak in quivering monotone, every word low but distinct. I did itl That night, when I knew he would be alone, I climbed into the office and stabbed him. I wanted the job and I knew I was next in line for promotion. I killed him. I-I didn't think it would be so bloodyl After leaving the oHice I walked back to my hotel and climbed the stairs instead of taking the elevator. I had just gotten into my room when the call from head- quarters came. I stayed in my room for as long a time as I thought it might take to dress, and then I came to the office. That's all there is to it. It was awful! He shuddered. So much bloodln L QQQR XJ HSP-
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Page 9 text:
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Xk: 1 A-if .,. . .? ' ,,,,, IIDGDJINIHIEB JIUINIT IIRHEBJID BY BENJAMIN KASSER HE telephone rang. Hellol Yes, on the 'phone. What! Is that so? O. K., I'll be right down. 'Bye. Clark put down the receiver, and walked over to the window. It was a clear night, and the illuminated clock across the street told him that the hour was early, not yet two o'clock. He nervously lit a cigarette and sat by the window, impatiently watching the hands in their slow march around the dial. Many thoughts disturbed his mind. With cigarette after cigarette he tried to quiet his nerves. After fifteen minutes he got up, entirely calm, and went out into the corridor. He was now the head of the Detective Bureau, since he had just learned by telephone that the Chief was dead, having been murdered in his office at about half past twelve. Clark, Assistant Chief, would now step into the post, at double his present salary. His impatient ring brought the dozing elevator-boy to attention, and soon he stood on the sidewalk calling a taxi- cab, and still smoking. When he reached headquarters he was met by an excited group of news- paper reporters, cameramen, and a few policemen. After a few brief greetings and explanations he was ushered into the scene of tne murder. Uhg! It was bloodier than he had expected it would be. There lay the dead Chief, sprawled in his swivel chair, a look of surprised indignation on his face, no longer the florid, jovial one that everyone was used to seeing. He had been stabbed in the breast, not once, but three times, one of the wounds reaching the heart. It must have been done quickly, and neatly, for the Chief was surprisingly active for one his age. The reason for stabbing instead of shooting was plain. The murderer was leaving no bullets 'for wary criminologists to examine and follow up. The window had flagrantly been left open, and it could be seen that the assassin had come across the lawn, having dragged his feet along in order to leave no foot prints on the grass or soil. Clark took charge, heading the investigation, and men were quickly dispatched on errands of more or less importance, in connection with the crime, and Clark himself, after further futile examination, went back to his hotel and to bed. He slept until late in the morning, and after breakfast went to the oiiice, this time not as a subordinate but' in actual charge. Busily engaged in estab- lishing himself, he almost forgot the '3l7ll
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Page 11 text:
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'THB HARVEST MOON ANNA MAE MYERS HE golden moon of late August gazed with a mellow countenance upon a vista unfolding beneath his shining glance. In the limpid flowing beams, the scene had almost the bril- liance of daylight. Leaves which were red and chestnut hued, appeared as if heavy with yellow metal and rustled in the fitful rousings of the wind. Soon there would be no golden leaves to dance in the soothing breeze, but the wind from the Canadas would produce mournful wailings in the bare forest. A shallow brook gurgled at the feet of the two who had come to this lovely, lonely place to be together. These two were Puritan lovers, betrothed to each other, and to be married before the following Spring duly arrived. With the bursting of the first buds of this fairy season, Captain Miles Standish, beloved protector and defender of the little band of brave hearts at Plymouth, was to read the vows that would bind Iohn Quarles and Faith Winthrop for- ever. Iohn Quarles was one of Captain Standish's trusted soldiers and co-de- fender of the small fort against the numerous assaults of the dreaded Shaw- anese and their murderous cunning. There was an anxious look in the face of this tall upright youth. Care had made its mark on the countenances of all the colonists. Now he gazed lovingly at his betrothed as he spoke, Verily, Faith, am I hopeful that the Shawanese have accepted the treaty with its liberal terms and that we will have little trouble, if any. One cannot be certain, Iohn, since thou knowest how cunning the red men are, although their lack of powder and fire arms may discourage them in their cruelty. Faith spoke in a brave, tired tone. Then, as an after-thought, Hast yet received thy commission from Captain Standish, Ionn? The young man nodded his head in assent and answered, That is the reason wlry I wished to speak with thee, Faith, I have received it and start the day following the Sabbath to relieve those others . . . I am to plan for the safety of our chief base of supplies. There be few who know the location of this place. My child, I may not see thee alone for several months and I want the most of the remaining time with thee. The soldier clasped the Puritan maiden to his heart and neither of them heard a very faint rustling which was not caused by the Autumn breeze nor saw another sight which the yellow moon revealed. An Indian scout resplendent in war paint withdrew from his crouched attitude and noiselessly glided through the thick forest after he had heard the intelligence which had passed between Iohn Quarles and Faith Winthrop. The day which remained before John Quarles left on his mission, dawned with clear skies and a smiling sun. Leaving the group of Puritan maidens with whom she had been conversing in a serious mood which befitted the Sabbath day, Faith joined her aged father. With demure step, she led him to the fort which, in these times of strife and con- tinual warfare with the Indians, served for a meeting-place where the Puritans could worship God with the freedom for which they had striven. The loveliness of the Autumn WHS eclipsed by the sweet face of the girl. 4191?-
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