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Updated: May 12, 2025
"Well," she said, "'tain't what it used to be, but I'll never forget old Malbey's name as long as I live, nor what he looks like, either. He looks like a potato with sprouts for eyes." Brencherly laughed. He had a very clear, if unflattering, picture of the learned physician. "But, say," she cried suddenly, "you're not trying to get me, are you?"
Half an hour had passed, when a young man of dapper appearance was ushered in. Gard looked up, frowning, into the mild blue eyes of the detective. "Hello, Brencherly. Know Victor Mahr?" "Yes," said the youth. "Tell me about him," snapped Gard. "Sit down." Brencherly sat. "Well, he's the head of the lumber people. Rated at six millions. Got one son, named Theodore; went to Yale.
"You can tell me the details as I work. Miss Marteen and Mrs. Mellows, wait for me, and I'll come and tell you the facts just as soon as I know them myself." He nodded unceremoniously and followed Brencherly. As they neared Mrs. Marteen's room the silence was suddenly broken by a cry. Balys strode past his guide and threw open the door. Mrs.
Victor Mahr' in the places he put me into, they laughed at me, the way they do at my roommate, who says she's a sideboard and wants to hold a tea-set." "Tell these gentlemen how cleverly you traced him," suggested Brencherly. "Oh, I knew where he lived and what he was doing well enough." She bridled with conscious conceit; "I read the papers and I had it all written down.
Mellows turned and made a rush down the corridor. Four pairs of hands stayed her in her flight. "No no!" begged Dorothy. "This gentleman says she is very ill. We mustn't disturb her Aunt please the doctor is coming." As if the name had conjured him, a ring announced Doctor Balys' arrival. He entered hastily, his emergency bag in his hand. "Mr. Brencherly, come with me, please," he ordered.
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