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Updated: August 17, 2024
Whitmore's intentions from the facts of the case, for I never saw him alive after I left him in front of the opera house." Beard sat down, wearied and worn from the strain of his recital. Miss Burden joined him and pressed a hand against his cheek. She did not repel the arm he slipped about her waist.
Her money sunk, her husband's money lost! She knew she was the chief beneficiary of the will don't you see what Whitmore's death meant to her? We've deluded ourselves into the belief that it was to her interest to keep Whitmore alive. What chumps we were."
So Collins, pretending that the sanctity of his home had been violated, went around threatening to kill Whitmore. Of course, it was a shallow pretense, designed to conceal the conspiracy between him, his wife and Ward to obtain possession of Whitmore's estate. We have the weapon with which Whitmore was killed. We have fastened its ownership on Collins.
But he had disappeared. He did not return for six weeks. Then, one day he came back. He was found in his office dead, with a bullet in his body. This is the bullet." Britz held the leaden pellet between his fingers, then laid it on the table. "It was taken from Whitmore's body," he explained. "It was fired from a 32-caliber revolver in fact from this very weapon."
"As he is now, I feel certain he would not dare. But should he start drinking " Ward was on his feet, his pale face grown paler. "That's just it!" he exclaimed. "We must forestall him." The same thought had flashed through her brain and she was already on the way to the telephone. She called up Whitmore's house and asked for the merchant. "He didn't come home last night," the butler informed her.
Real leaders of our party fought, suffered, and starved, but they never deserted the flag. Christianity could not convert a Bradlaugh or a Holyoake; it could only bribe or allure a Sexton or a Gordon, or others of the "illustrious obscure" in Mr. Whitmore's fraudulent catalogue. In short, the "conversions" to Christianity so trumpeted are mostly dubious, generally insignificant, and all ancient.
Why, that she was Whitmore's mistress and that she and her worthless husband were in a conspiracy to obtain the money. "And now what's going to happen?" the detective continued. "Why, public sympathy will be extended to her in full measure.
I saw Whitmore's face as they turned it up, and the sight of it made me cover my eyes. I heard the men step out into the roadway, and set back their triggers. Crouching against the wall, I heard the volley.
With a quick lift he landed the animal, limp and bloody, squarely upon the top of Miss Whitmore's largest trunk. The pointed nose hung down the side, the white fangs exposed in a sinister grin. The girl gazed upon him proudly at first, then in dismay. "Oh, he's dripping blood all over my mandolin case and I just know it won't come out!" She tugged frantically at the instrument.
Britz pressed the receiver tightly to his ear, as if afraid that some word of hers might escape his hearing. "Mr. Luckstone wishes me to say that Mr. Whitmore's will has been found," said the detective. If the woman realized the significance of the information, her voice did not betray it. "Well?" she exclaimed, as if the subject held but a mild interest for her. "Mr.
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