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Updated: May 5, 2025
I don't think she knew what kind of place it was, or she wouldn't have come." He paused, as though he had something on his mind. "Go on," urged Kennedy. "Tell all. You must tell all." "I was just thinking," he hesitated. "I remember I saw Ike the Dropper and Marie Margot there that day, too, with Martin Ogleby " "Martin Ogleby!" interrupted Carton in surprise. "Yes, Martin Ogleby.
You may be sure of that. No, neither of them wants a fight. That's the last thing. They're both afraid. What Langhorne wanted was a line on Dorgan. Mrs. Ogleby added two and two and got five. She thought it must be I who put the instrument in." Carton was growing more and more excited again, "It's exasperating," he continued. "There's the record somewhere if I could only get it.
It might be possible after all to gloss over almost anything and win the election, but none of us dared to think what it might mean if Miss Ashton not only suspected that Carton had been fraternizing with the bosses but also that there had been or by some possibility could be anything really in common between him and Mrs. Ogleby. That, after all, I saw was the real question.
By widening the slit and slowing the speed of the shutter, there is more distortion. "Now, that is just what has been done. A picture has been taken of a car owned once by Murtha, probably at rest, with perhaps yourself, Murtha, Mrs. Ogleby, and your friend in it. The matter of faking Carton or anyone else is simple.
Shaking himself loose from them would result in finding himself the centre of an enthusiastic crowd of Reform Leaguers. Mrs. Ogleby was there, also, and both Kennedy and I watched her curiously. I wondered whether she might not feel just a little relieved to think that Murtha was seemingly out of the way for the present.
Being gone hence, I took coach to the Old Exchange, but did not go into it, but to Mr. Cade's, the stationer, stood till the shower was over, it being a great and welcome one after so much dry weather. Here I understand that Ogleby is putting out some new fables of his owne, which will be very fine and very satyricall.
It was warm and they were among the lucky ones who had succeeded in getting something besides a cheque from the waiters. Two tall glasses of ginger ale with a long curl of lemon peel sepentining through the cracked ice stood before them. The dance had brought Dr. Harris and Marie squarely around to within a few feet of where Ogleby was sitting.
Still, I know he has been associated with the place. As for the club-man I should guess that that was Martin Ogleby." Kennedy and I exchanged glances of surprise. "As a first step," said Kennedy, at length, "I am going to write a letter to Betty Blackwell, care of the Little Montmartre or perhaps you had better do the actual writing of it, Miss Kendall. A woman's hand will look less suspicious."
The rest of the day he spent in making microphotographs of the phonograph cylinder and studying them very attentively under his high-powered lens. Toward the close of the afternoon the first report of Miss Kendall, who had been "trailing" Mrs. Ogleby, came in.
"Dorgan will be here," he answered, evading Carton's question as to what he had discovered. "Dorgan?" we repeated in surprise. "Yes. I have made arrangements to have Martin Ogleby, too. They won't dare stay away. Ike the Dropper, Dr. Harris, and Marie Margot have not been found yet, but Miss Kendall will bring Sybil Seymour. Then we shall see." The door opened. It was Ogleby.
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