Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 12, 2025
She raised her head slightly. "Will you come with me? My name is Brencherly, and Mr. Gard sent me for you. Come." She rose obediently. The name he had spoken seemed to inspire confidence, trust and peace, like a word of power; but her limbs refused to move, and she sank back again. Brencherly took her unresisting hand in his, felt her pulse and shook his head. "Long!" he called. "Get a cab.
As he laid her gently back upon the pillows, she sighed softly, her heavy lids unclosed a moment. "I knew you'd come," she murmured. "You'll take care of of Dorothy you will " Her voice trailed off into nothingness; then "Marcus" she whispered. The two men turned away. Brencherly coughed.
I want by to-morrow a pretty good list of his engagements and a general map of his day or perhaps you know enough now to oblige me with that information." Brencherly cast an inquisitive look at Gard. He had never accepted Gard's explanation of his interest in Mahr's affairs.
Convince yourself in every way, Mr. Field, but the part of mercy is a conspiracy of silence. Let it be known that an escaped lunatic did the killing a certain unknown Mrs. Welles and let Brencherly give the reporters all they want.
Brencherly ran down the hall, the servant preceding him. As the door swung wide, Dorothy, followed by Teddy Mahr, entered the hallway. She stopped suddenly, face to face with a stranger. "Who are you? What do you want?" she asked, sudden fear and suspicion in her eyes. Brencherly explained quickly. "Mr. Gard employed me, Miss Marteen, to find your mother, if possible and she is here.
I was thinking what precautions had best be taken at Mrs. Marteen's home. I'll plan that you do the rest. Good-by." Brencherly sidled to the door, bowed and disappeared. The telephone bell on the table rang sharply. Gard took down the receiver absently, but the voice that trembled over the wire startled him like an electric shock.
This is no small matter, Brencherly. Honesty is the best policy and there are rewards and punishments." The strain of grief and anxiety had set its mark on Gard's face. His deadly earnestness and evident effort at self-control sent a thrill of pitying admiration through the detective's hardened indifference.
Brencherly sat facing his employer, respecting his anxious silence, while they waited the coming of the district attorney, to whose clemency they must appeal surely common humanity would counsel protective measures, secrecy, in the proceeding of the law.
Brencherly bowed with awkward diffidence. Gard's manner was ease and cordiality itself, but his heart misgave him. So much depended upon the outcome of this meeting. He would not let himself dwell upon its possibilities, but faced the situation with grim determination. "Well, Field," he said genially, "let me thank you for coming. You are tired, I know.
Brencherly entered the adjoining apartment without deigning an answer, switched on the lights and approached the bed. The wizen little woman, with her disheveled white hair and tumbled garments looked pitifully weak and helpless; her thin, claw-like hands clutching at the pillow in a childish pose. Her captor stared at her intently, his brain crowded with strange thoughts. Who was she?
Word Of The Day
Others Looking