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Updated: May 6, 2025
He'll be the first one the police talk to, and he'll tell them all about it." "That does put you back of the eight ball." Rand dropped the ash into a tray and looked at it curiously. It looked like the sort of ash he had seen at Rivers's shop, but he couldn't be sure. "But if it can be proved that Rivers was alive after nine twenty, when you got here, you'll be in the clear."
Rivers's carved ivory cigarette-holder was lying beside the body, crushed at the end as though it had been stepped on. A half-smoked cigarette had been in it; it, too, was crushed. There was no evidence of any great struggle, however; the attack which had ended the arms-dealer's life must have come as a complete surprise.
Rivers's help, following the trail of the missing children, came upon the open door and glanced in. There, to her astonishment, she saw the domestic group already described, and to her eyes dominated by the "most beautiful and perfectly elegant" young man she had ever seen. But let not the incautious reader suppose that she succumbed as weakly as her artless charges to these fascinations.
But when you realize that Rivers was buying the collection out of Dunmore's pocket, his reaction becomes quite understandable. I daresay I signed Arnold Rivers's death-warrant, right there." "I'll bet your conscience bothers you about that," Gladys remarked. "Oh, sure; it's been gnawing hell out of me, ever since," Rand told her cheerfully. "But, right away, Dunmore decided to kill Rivers.
"See, we questioned this Cecil Gillis, and he told us that last evening, as he was leaving Rivers's, he saw Stephen Gresham drive up and go into the shop. I wanted to talk to him, myself; I thought he might account for the cigar-ashes, and the drink-fixings on that table.
She had been too much charged with gladness over the safety of her hero and the safety of her father. 'Like the brave comrade that he was, Sir Rupert said mournfully. That was Soame Rivers's epitaph. Mrs. Sarrasin and Dolores had thoughts of their own. They knew that there was something further to come, of which Sir Rupert and Helena had no knowledge or even suspicion.
Corporal Kavaalen was going through the dead man's pockets, and Skinner was working on the rifle with an insufflator. "Well, we can't say it was robbery, anyhow," Kavaalen said. "He had eight C's in his billfold." "Migawd, Sarge, is this damn rifle ever lousy with prints," Skinner complained. "A lot of Rivers's, and everybody else's who's been fooling with it around here, and half the Wehrmacht."
And then, on Saturday, you came bounding in with Stephen Gresham's certified check for twenty-six thousand. And I seem to recall that the late unlamented Rivers's offer of twenty-five thousand straight had them stopped. Not that I'm inclined to look askance at an extra five hundred I can buy a new hat with my share of that, even after taxes but I would like to know what happened.
That, I suppose, was what you meant by your 'painful story. But is this the woman?" "No, no," said the deacon hurriedly, with a white face, "you have quite misunderstood." "But whose is this portrait?" persisted Jack. "I believe that I don't know exactly but I think it is a sister of Mrs. Rivers's," stammered the deacon.
It was a pencil sketch of Mrs. Rivers's youthfully erring sister. But he only said he thought he recognized a likeness to some one he had seen in Sacramento. The deacon's eye brightened. "Perhaps the same one perhaps," he added in a submissive and significant tone "a er painful story." "Rather to him," observed Hamlin quietly. "How? I er don't understand," said Deacon Turner.
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