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Updated: May 6, 2025
The paper was of the cheapest. He withdrew the enclosure, closely covered with typewriting, glanced over the four pages and turned to the end. Then he read through. Gard crushed the letter in his hand in a frenzy of fury. So this this was Mahr's objective, this the cowardly vengeance his despicable mind had evolved!
Left alone, he hurriedly pocketed Mahr's jewelry, paused a moment to grind the stone of the scarf pin from its setting among the cinders of the terminus the gem and its mangled mounting could both be easily lost. His one desire now was to put himself in telephonic communication with New York, but he did not dare to be too pressing.
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.
"If you do that they'll tumble to you, Mr. Gard. It's an even chance Mr. Mahr would have any messages reported. He could, you know; he's a pretty important stockholder in the transmission companies. You'd better have a watchman or an alarm attachment on the safe, if you can." Gard sat silent. He was reasoning out the motive of Mahr's move. Did Mrs.
Then recognition leaped into her eyes, and she sank upon a bench facing the familiar entrance. Now she could afford to wait. Her enemy could not escape while she sat watching. He could not escape As Marcus Gard stood upon the steps of Mahr's residence, and heard the soft closing of its door behind him, he shut his eyes, drew himself erect and breathed deep of the keen, cold air.
"Mahr's dead murdered!" he blurted out, as if startled by the news. They nodded. "Yes, we knew. But," Denning added, "we didn't want to upset you any further. It came out on the ticker at eleven. How are you feeling?" he asked with friendly solicitude. "I wish you'd eat something you've not touched anything but coffee for nearly twenty-four hours." "I can't," said Gard grimly.
Her tolerance of young Mahr's attentions to Dorothy drove him distracted, his only relief being that Miss Gard, his sister, swayed, as always, by his slightest wish, had developed a most maternal delight in Dorothy's presence, and was doing all in her power to make the girl's season a most successful one; also, in accord with his obvious desire her influence was antagonistic to Mahr, his son and his motor car, his house and his flowers, everything that was his; in spite of which, Dorothy's manner toward Teddy Mahr was undoubtedly one of encouragement.
And her own confession, while it is incomplete in some respects, is nevertheless undoubtedly true. "But, Field, this woman is hopelessly demented. There is nothing that can be done for her. She must be returned to the institution. I want to keep the knowledge of her identity from Mahr's son. Why poison the whole of his young life; why wreck his trust in his father?
"No," said Gard. "Teddy Mahr's mother died. His wife is living, and is in that next room." "What's the meaning of this?" Field demanded. "A pretty plain meaning," Gard rejoined. "The woman escaped from the asylum where she was confined. According to her own story, she had kept track of her husband from the newspapers.
He forgot the dread vision of the chair of death in the keen personal shame of the creature she must believe him to be. Suddenly a new angle of the case presented itself Brencherly! He sat up gasping. Brencherly must have guessed the inevitable logic of the situation led straight to the solution of the enigma. The detective knew of Mahr's efforts to obtain the combination of Mrs.
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