XXIII TWO WILLS
For a few days Loria staid in Cairo, and devoted all his time to theamusement and entertainment of Pauline. Together they visited the Sphinxand the Great Pyramids. Together they made trips to Old Cairo and to theOstrich Farm. Together they saw the Little Petrified Forest. But theimmediate sights of Cairo, the tombs, mosques and bazaars, Loria toldher, she could visit with Mrs. MacDonald or with their dragoman, after heand Ahri had gone on their trip up the Nile.
Pauline was happy. At Carr's request she had endeavored to put out of hermind the horrors she had been through. Frightened at the suspicionsdirected toward herself, fearing that she could not successfully combatthem,--and, for another reason,--she had fled to Egypt, and her cousin'sprotection. This other reason she had almost dismissed from her mind, andshe gave herself up to the enjoyment of the novelty and interest of herpresent situation.
After their sight-seeing each day, they returned for tea on the Terraceat Shepheard's or went to Ghezireh Palace for it, or to the house of somefriend. Dinner was always a pleasant affair, and they had frequent guestsand were often invited out.
As Pauline was wearing mourning, no large social affairs were attended,and under Mrs. MacDonald's guidance the girl pursued her happy way.
Nearly a week after Pauline's arrival, Loria told her that the next dayhe must leave her, and go up the Nile to attend to his work there. Theywere in the sitting room of Pauline's pleasant suite at the hotel, andMrs. MacDonald promised to cherish most carefully her charge in Loria'sabsence.
"How long shall you be away, Carr?" asked Pauline.
"It's uncertain, Polly. Perhaps only a few days this time, perhaps aweek. I'll be back and forth, you know, and you're bound to find enoughto interest you. Keep me advised of any news from America. You can alwaysreach me by mail or wire, or telephone if need be. And, here's anothermatter, Pauline. You know, this work I'm up against is more or lessdangerous."
"Dangerous, how?"
"Well, there's blasting and danger of cave-ins and such matters,--butdon't feel alarmed, I'll probably come through all right. Only, I want tomake my will, so if anything should happen, you'll be my heir without anyfuss about it."
"Oh, don't talk about such things, Carr. You frighten me."
"Nonsense, don't take it like that. Now, see here. You know my way. Touchand go is my motto. So, I've asked a lawyer chap to come here to-nightand fix up things. Suppose you make your will, too. Then it will seemmore like a business matter, and not as if either of us expects to diesoon. Who's your heir to be, Polly?"
"Why, I don't know, I've never thought about it."
"But you ought to. You see, now you're _some_ heiress, and it isn't rightnot to have a will made,--on general principles. To be sure, you maymarry,----"
"Oh, I don't think I ever will, Carr!"
"Nonsense, Pollypops, of course you will. But you must take your time andselect a good chappie. Now, how does this strike you? Jeffries, mylawyer, is coming here, right away. Suppose we each make a will, leavingall our worldly goods to each other. Then, later, when you decide on yourlife mate, you can change and rearrange as you like."
"But I haven't any fortune yet. Aunt Lucy's estate isn't all settled, isit?"
"No matter about that. It will be, in course of time. I have everyconfidence in Haviland, he's as honest a chap as ever breathed. He'll fixup all our interests over there, in apple-pie order and don't you forgetit! Humor me in this thing, Polly, and believe I know more of businessaffairs than you do, and it's best to do as I say."
Pauline was easily persuaded, and as the arrangement was conceded to bemerely temporary, she agreed. Jeffries came. The two wills were drawn,signed and witnessed, all in correct form. Loria, in his, bequeathed toPauline all he might die possessed of, and except for a few charities andminor bequests, Pauline left her fortune to Carr. The business was soonover, and Loria took both documents, saying he would put them in his SafeDeposit box for the present, as Pauline had no place for valuable papers.
The next day, Loria, accompanied by the invaluable Ahri, went away to thesite of his projected enterprise. This affair was conducted with suchstrict secrecy that even the location was not known to many. Actual workhad not yet been begun, but negotiations and preparations of vastimportance were being made, and secret conclaves were held by those mostinterested. Pauline had been emphatically adjured to give not the leasthint to any one whatever of the project, and she had promised faithfullyto obey Carr's injunctions.
The next afternoon, a telegram from Fleming Stone announced his arrivalat Alexandria and his immediate appearance in Cairo.
Addressed to her, in Loria's care, Pauline received it duly, for her mailwas brought to her at Shepheard's, and Carr's forwarded to him whereverhe might be. She had had a cable from Haviland, but no American lettershad yet reached her. Stone, having sailed just a week after Pauline'sdeparture from New York, was arriving eight days after her own advent atCairo.
The girl's first emotion was of joy. The thought of seeing Stone again,eclipsed all other thoughts.
"Oh, Mrs. Mac!" she cried, clasping that somewhat rotund matron round thewaist and leading her an enforced dance. "Mr. Stone is coming! Will behere for tea! Oh, I _am_ so glad!"
But her second thoughts were more disturbing. _Why_ was he coming? Whatwere his suspicions? Could he be tracking her down? Though Fleming Stonehad never said a word of love to her, Pauline knew, by her own heart's'detective instinct,' that he _cared_. But, his sense of duty might makeit necessary to follow where the trail of suspicion led, even at cost ofhis own affections. Then, too, could he suspect?--But Pauline'sirrepressible joy at thought of seeing him left her little time or wishto indulge in gloomy forebodings.
Singing, she ran off to dress for Stone's reception.
"Which is prettier?" she asked of Mrs. Mac, holding up an embroideredwhite crepe, of Cairo construction, and a black net gown, brought fromNew York.
"Wear the white, Miss Stuart. It's most becoming to you."
It was, and when arrayed in the lovely, soft, clinging affair, with acluster of tiny white rose-buds at her belt, Pauline's unusually pinkcheeks and her scarlet flower of a mouth gave all the color necessary.
Her beautiful hair, piled in a crown atop her little head, was held by acarved ivory comb, and beneath their half-drooped lashes her great eyesshone like stars.
For the Terrace, she donned a large white hat, with black ostrich plumes,and flinging a white cape edged with black fur over her arm, shedescended to meet her guest.
Though little given to emotional demonstration, Fleming Stone caught hisbreath with a quick gasp at sight of her, and advanced with outstretchedhands and a smile of a sort no one had ever before seen on that alwayscalm face.
"How do you do?" she said, smiling; for, though thrilled herself, sheremembered the unfailing curiosity of the Terrace crowds.
But Stone, having taken her two hands in his, stood looking at her as ifhe intended to pursue that occupation for the rest of his natural life.
"Sit down," she said, laughing a little nervously under his gaze; "thisis our table. Will you have tea?"
"Tea, of course," and at last Fleming Stone took himself in hand andbehaved like a reasonable citizen. "And how are you? And your cousin,where is he?"
"Mr. Loria is out of Cairo just now," and Pauline turned to give thewaiter his order. "But we are three, as I am under most strictsurveillance--" she paused, realizing what that phrase meant to adetective! "Of a perfect dragon of a chaperon," she continued bravely,trying to control her quivering lip. "Here she comes now."
The appearance and introduction of Mrs. MacDonald gave Pauline time toregain her poise, and a glance of pathetic appeal to Stone made him takeup the burden of conversation for a few moments. And then, with thearrival of the tea, the chat became gayer, and, of course, impersonal.
The Englishman, Pitts, appeared, indeed, he inevitably appeared whenPauline was on the Terrace
, and joined the group without invitation.
It was not Fleming Stone's first visit to Egypt, and he noted withinterest the changes, and looked with gladness on things unchanged, asthe kaleidoscopic scene whirled about him.
Later, they all went up to Pauline's sitting room, and viewed the streetpageant from second-story windows.
And then, Mrs. MacDonald, after a short and losing battle between herconventions and her kind-heartedness, insisted that Mr. Pitts must takeher across the street to buy some imperatively necessary writing-paper.
Outwardly courteous but inwardly of a rampageous unwillingness, Mr. Pittsacquiesced in her scheme, and Fleming Stone politely closed the doorbehind them.
He turned, to see Pauline looking at him, with a gaze, frightened,but,--yes, surely,--welcoming, and not waiting to analyze the intent ofthe gaze more deeply, Stone took a chance, and in another instant, heldher in his arms so closely that the intent of her glance was of littleimportance to anybody.
"Pauline!" he breathed, "how I love you! My darling,--mine! No, no, don'tspeak----" and he laid his finger tips on her parted lips, "Just look atme, and so--tell me----"
The wonderful eyes raised themselves to his, and Stone's phenomenalinsight was not necessary for him to read the message they held.
"You do love me!" he whispered: "oh, my little girl!" and after a long,silent embrace, he cried jubilantly: "Now tell me! Now tell me in words,in words, Pauline, that you do!"
Unhesitatingly, without shyness, Pauline, radiant-faced, whispered, "Ilove you, dear," and the vibrant tones filled the simple words to thebrim of assurance.
Though it seemed to them but a moment, it was some time later that Mrs.MacDonald's tap sounded on the door.
"Come," cried Pauline, springing away from Stone's side, while hesauntered to the window. "Oh, Mrs. MacDonald, you must know it at once!Mr. Stone is my fiance!"
Mrs. Mac was duly surprised and delighted, and, after congratulations,sent Stone away to dress for dinner, and endeavored to calm down heremotional charge.
Later that evening, Stone and Pauline sat in the hall watching thepeople. Almost as much alone as on a desert island, they conversed in lowtones, and Stone, between expressions of adoration, told her of histheory of the beauty charm.
With paling face, Pauline listened. "Who?" she whispered. "Who? Do yoususpect anybody?"
"You don't know of your aunt ever having consulted any beauty doctor orany such person?"
"Oh, no! I'm sure she never did. Never!"
"And you don't know of any one who would give her poison, under pretenseof its being a charm or beautifier?"
"Oh, don't! Don't ask me!" and, with a face white as ashes, Pauline rosefrom her chair. "You must excuse me, Mr. Stone. I am ill,--I don't feelwell--. Really I must beg to be excused."
Almost before he realized what she was doing, Pauline had left him,glided to the elevator, and he heard the door of the cage clang to, evenas he followed her.
"Poor child!" he said to himself, "poor dear little girl!" and going inquest of Mrs. MacDonald, he asked her to go to Pauline.
"You will perhaps find her greatly disturbed," he said, "but I assure youit is nothing that can be avoided or remedied. Please, Mrs. MacDonald,just try to comfort and cheer her, without asking the cause of hersadness."
After a straightforward look into Stone's eyes, which was as franklyreturned, Mrs. MacDonald nodded her head and hastened away.
As Stone had predicted she found Pauline sobbing hysterically.
"What is it, dear?" she queried, "tell Mrs. Mac. Or, if you'd rather not,at least tell me what I can do for you. Don't, don't cry so!"
But no words could she get from the sobbing girl, except an insistentdemand for a telegraph blank. This was provided, and Pauline wrote amessage to Carr Loria telling him that Fleming Stone had come to Cairo.This she ordered despatched at once. Then she begged Mrs. MacDonald toleave her, as she wished to go to bed and try to forget her troubles insleep.
Meantime, Fleming Stone left the hotel and proceeded straight to CarrLoria's rooms. He expressed surprise when the janitor informed him of Mr.Loria's absence.
"Well, never mind," he said: "he'll be back in a few days. But I'll justgo in and write a note and leave it on his desk for him."
The janitor hesitated, but after a transference of some coin of the realmwas effected, he cheerfully unlocked the door and Stone found himself inLoria's apartment. It was a comfortable place, even luxurious, in amannish way, and the Detective looked about with interest. As he hadproposed, he went to the writing table and taking a sheet of paper fromthe rack, wrote a short note. But instead of leaving it, he put it in hispocket, saying to the watchful janitor that perhaps it would be better tomail it. Then, he stepped into Loria's bedroom, but so quickly did hestep out again, that the janitor hadn't time to reprove or forbid him.
"All right," he said, as he started to leave. "When Mr. Loria returns youcan tell him I called."
This permission went far to allay the janitor's fears that he had beenindiscreet; for Carr Loria was not a man who brooked interference withhis affairs or belongings.
XXIV CONFESSION
Carr Loria was at Heluan when he received Pauline's telegram. For a fewmoments he studied it, and then going to a hotel office, he possessedhimself of a telegram blank which he proceeded to write on, by the use ofa type-writer near-by.
With a preoccupied look on his face, as if thinking deeply, he calledAhri and gave him a long and careful list of directions.
And it was in pursuance of these directions that the Arab presentedhimself at Shepheard's at ten o'clock in the morning and asked for MissStuart.
"What is it, Ahri?" asked Pauline, as she received the dragoman in hersitting room.
"Miss Stoort," and the Arab was deeply respectful, "Mr. Loria begs thatyou go with me to Sakkara to visit the Pyramids and Necropolis."
"Now?" said Pauline, in surprise.
"Yes, my lady. Mr. Loria will himself meet you at the station. Will youstart at once, please?"
"But I am expecting a caller--Mr. Stone,----"
"Pardon, but Mr. Loria said if you hesitated for any reason, to imploreyou to go with me quickly, and he will explain all."
Pauline paled a little, but she said, simply, "Very well, Ahri, I will goat once."
Escorted by the silent, majestic-mannered Arab, Pauline was taken throughthe crowded streets to the station, and they boarded a train just as itwas leaving.
"We did get the train, Miss Stoort," said Ahri, with his sad smile, "Mr.Loria would be greatly mad if we had missed it. Yes."
Pauline nodded at him, her thoughts full of the spoiled day, which shehad hoped to spend with Stone.
Yet she longed to see Carr, she wanted to tell him what Mr. Stone hadsaid about the beauty charm and----
"You said Mr. Loria would meet us at the station, Ahri; you put me on thetrain so quickly I had no chance to speak. Where is he?"
"Not the Cairo station, my lady. The station at Bedrashein."
"Where is that?"
"Where we are going. We alight there to see the ruins of Memphis and thePyramids of Sakkara."
Pauline looked puzzled, but said no more and sat silently wrapped in herown thoughts, now of Stone, now of Carr, and again of herself.
At Bedrashein, they left the train. Pauline looked anxiously around butsaw nothing of her cousin.
"I do not see him," said Ahri, gravely, meeting her inquiring glance;"but I obey his orders. He said, if he be not here, we go to the desertto meet him."
"To the desert? How? Where?"
"This way. Here are our carts." Ahri led the way to where two sand-cartsstood waiting, evidently for them. They were a little like Englishdog-carts and drawn by desert horses.
"You take that one, Miss Stoort, and I this," directed Ahri, standingwith outstretched hand, like a commanding officer.
Bewildered but knowing the responsibility of Carr's servant, Pa
uline gotinto the cart he indicated. She did not at all like the looks of thegaunt black Moor who drove her, but thought best to say nothing. She hadlearned never to show fear of the native servants, and she held her headhigh, and gave the driver only a haughty stare. Ahri, after she wasarranged for, sprang into the other cart, and they set off.
The road was through the village, through palm groves, past largeexpanses of water, and at last through desert wastes, among foot-hillsthat quickly cut off the view of the road just traversed.
Pauline's cart was ahead of the other, and looking back she could not seethe other one, in which Ahri rode.
A strange feeling began to creep into her heart. Covertly she glanced ather driver. The hard bony face was not turned her way, but she had anuncanny sense that the man was grinning at her. Sternly she bade him stopand wait for the other cart.
"No Ingleese," he rejoined, with a dogged expression on his uglycountenance.
"I command you," and Pauline laid hold of his arm, "I insist that youstop!"
"No Ingleese," he repeated, and now he gave her a distinctly impudentlook and spurred the horse to faster pace.
Pauline considered. She was frightened beyond words to express, but sheknew she must not show fear. Haughtily she held her proud little headaloft, and tried to think what was best to do. Something was wrong, thatshe knew, but whether it was Ahri who was at fault, or this dreadful manbeside her, or--or,--she stifled back the thought of Loria.
He would save her, she knew he would, cried her worried brain, but in herheart was black doubt. All the unadmitted fears she had known of late,all the repressed suspicions, all the insistent doubts, these cameflocking, clamoring for recognition.
On they went,--where they might be she had no idea. Nothing could be seenbut the never-ending hills, not high, but of sufficient height to cut offall view of anything but their sandy slopes. Miles and miles theytraversed. The sun was under a cloud, and Pauline had no knowledge of thedirection they were taking. But from the man's grim, stony face, andcruel eyes, she knew she was in dreadful, even desperate danger.Courageously, she insisted over and over that they stop. The reply wasonly a shaken head and a reassertion that English was an unknown tongue.This Pauline knew to be a lie, from his intelligent expression at herwords. At last, desperately trying to control her trembling hands, sheoffered her purse, if he would stop.
To her surprise, he consented, and jerked his horse to a stand-still.Pauline handed over the purse, and the driver got out of the cart,indicating by gestures that she should also alight, and rest herself.
The cart was small, and the ride had been uncomfortable, so after amoment's thought Pauline jumped out. She reasoned that the man having hermoney, had no desire to prolong the trip, and in a moment they would goback to Bedrashein. Often had she heard of these robberies, and she feltthat, cupidity satisfied, she had little to fear.
But no sooner was she on the ground, than the Moor sprang again into hiscart, and whipping up his horse, sped away across the desert sand and ina minute rounded a hill and was out of sight.
Pauline looked after him an instant, and then, realizing to the uttermostwhat it meant,--that she was abandoned to her fate in a tracklessdesert,--fell in a little heap on the sands and fainted away.
It was about eleven o'clock on the morning of that same day, that CarrLoria went to Shepheard's Hotel and asked for Fleming Stone.
The two men met, and eyed each other appraisingly. There was no lightchat, each was of serious face and in grave mood.
Loria spoke first, after the short greeting. "I have a telegram from mycousin, Miss Stuart," he said, drawing a paper from his pocket. "I knowwhy you are here, Mr. Stone, and I think best to show you this. Frankly,I am glad of it."
Stone took the message, and read:
I have run away again. I am afraid of F. S. Don't try to find me, I am all right, and I will communicate with you after he goes back to U. S. I positively will not make my whereabouts known as long as he is in Cairo. Don't worry.
Polly.
"We may as well be honest with one another," Loria went on. "I gather,from your presence here, that you know my cousin is guilty of the deathof her aunt; but you _don't_ know, you _can't_ know, what that poor girlhad to put up with. I can't blame her, that in a moment of,--really oftemporary insanity,--she let herself be tempted----"
"I'm sorry to cut short this interview, Mr. Loria," said Stone, in hisquiet way, "but, truly, I've a most important engagement just now. If Icould see you, say this evening, and talk these things over byourselves----"
"Surely, Mr. Stone. I must return to my work to-morrow, but I'll see youto-night. Will you come to my place?"
"Yes, I will. About nine?"
"Nine it is," and Loria swung away, as Fleming Stone turned and hastenedinto the hotel.
Straight to Mrs. MacDonald he went and asked where Pauline was.
"She went to visit Memphis and Sakkara with her cousin," said the smilingchaperon. "That is, she went with her cousin's dragoman, and Mr. Loriamet them at Bedrashein."
"Oh, _did he_! Now listen, Mrs. MacDonald. Miss Stuart is in danger. I amsure of this. I am going to her aid, but I may not----" Stone choked, "Imay not succeed soon. Tell me of this dragoman. What does he look like?"
Graphically, Mrs. MacDonald described the statuesque Ahri, and almostbefore she stopped speaking, Stone was flying along the corridor, downthe stairs, and out at the door.
He caught a train to Bedrashein, and the first person he bumped into atthe little station was Ahri himself waiting for the train to Cairo.
Fleming Stone went straight to the point. "Look here, Ahri," he said tothe astonished Arab, who had never seen him before, "what have you donewith Miss Stuart?"
For once the phlegmatic Arab was caught off his guard.
"What do you mean?" he stammered. "I have not seen her to-day."
"Don't lie to me," and Stone gave him a look that cowed him. "Now listen.You're in Mr. Loria's pay. All right. He paid you well for the job you'vejust done. Now, I'll pay you twice,--three times as well to undo it.Moreover, I'll inform you straight that you'll never work for Mr. Loriaagain. He's a villain, a wicked man. Take my advice, Ahri, give him upand come over to me. By so doing, you'll not only escape punishment foryour work to-day, but get a fresh start toward a good position. I don'tbelieve you're a bad man at heart, Ahri. At least, I don't believe you'llcontinue to be if you're better paid to be good."
Stone was right about this, and the talk ended in another expedition oftwo sand-carts into the desert. Ahri in one, with a native driver, Stonealone in the other, driving himself. Ahri's cart was driven by the sameMoor that had driven Pauline only two or three hours before. Stonefollowed them, the wicked driver easily bought over to betray the placewhere he had left Pauline.
And there they found her.
Crouched at the base of a small hill, worn out by weeping and despair,racked by fright and terror, she had fallen into a fitful slumber fromsheer exhaustion. Jumping from his cart, Stone waved the others back andwent to her. On her face were traces of tears. Her gloves andhandkerchief were torn in strips by her agonized frenzies. Her shoulderswere huddled as if in frantic fear, and her face was drawn and pinchedwith anguish. But in spite of all this, Stone thought he had never seenher look so beautiful. Stepping nearer he lifted her to her feet, andunheeding the observers, he clasped her closely in his arms, andwhispered endearing words.
Pauline, her eyes still closed, murmured, "it's only a dream. I must notwake, I _must_ not!"
"No dream, darling," said the strong, glad voice in her ear. "Does thisseem like a dream?" and his lips met hers in a long, close kiss.
Then her eyes opened, wondering, and lest she should faint from very joy,Stone carried her to the cart and placed her in it. Jumping in besideher, he ordered the other cart to lead and they started back.
Neither Pauline nor Stone ever forgot that ride. At first, she wascontent to ask no
questions, happy in his nearness and her own rescuefrom an awful fate. But, later, she inquired about Loria.
"You must know the truth soon, dearest," said Stone, gently, "so I'lltell you, in part now. Your cousin is a wicked man, Pauline, and you mustgrasp this fact before I go on."
"Carr wicked?" and Pauline paled and trembled as if struck with a suddenblow.
"Yes, it was his hand, his will, that sent you to be lost in the desert.He showed me a false telegram, saying you had run away from me!"
"What? oh, I can't believe it!"
"Well, don't try now," and Stone smiled at her. "It's all I can do tomanage this fiery steed without trying to tell you unbelievable things atthe same time. Let me tell you something more easy of credulity."
Pauline's smile was permission, and Stone had no difficulty in convincingher of certain self-evident truths.
By the time the trio reached Cairo, Ahri was as staunch a follower and astrue a slave of Fleming Stone as he had been of Carrington Loria. AtStone's direction he returned to his former master, for the present, andgave no hint of the later development of the kidnapping scheme.
"All went off as planned?" said Loria, secure in his servant's fidelity.
"Yes, master," answered the devoted trusty, and Loria said no more on thesubject.
That evening when Fleming Stone went to Carr Loria's rooms, he wasaccompanied by Pauline and the Englishman, Pitts.
Loria started at sight of his cousin, but quickly recovered his poise andjauntily asked her where she had come from.
"No place like Cairo, for me," she replied in the same light tone, andthey all sat down in Loria's den.
"More company than I expected," he said, as he bustled about, seatingthem. "Ahri, another chair."
Ahri obeyed the request, and then softly left the room.
"Mr. Loria," said Stone, directly, "there is no use wasting words, we arehere to accuse you of the murder of your aunt and the attempted murder ofyour cousin."
Carr Loria's face blanched, but he tried to put on a bold front.
"What do you mean by this nonsense? Is it a joke?"
"By no means; I have all the proofs of your crimes and I ask you if youwill confess here, or to the Police?"
"Friend Pitts, I believe, is connected with the Police," and Lorialaughed grimly.
"Yes, he is. Have you anything to say?"
"Only to deny your accusations. Except that it's too absurd even to denysuch foolish talk. What do you mean anyway?"
"That you poisoned Miss Lucy Carrington, wilfully and purposely, bysending her a dose of powdered aconite, under the pretense of its being abeauty charm that would bring fairness and youth to her plain face."
Carr Loria's jaw dropped. He looked at Stone as if at somethingsupernatural. "W--what?" he stammered.
"You did it to get her money, _now_, to go on with your work in the bedof the Nile. Then, in order to get your cousin's share of the fortune,you sent her away to die in the desert, having first induced her to willyou her money."
"Ha, ha," laughed Loria, feebly. "Poor joke, Stone, pretty poor joke, Isay! Murdered my own aunt! Not much I didn't!"
"Carr Loria, listen!" Impressively Stone held up his finger, to adjuresilence, and at the same time he bent on Loria a glance of accusationthat made him cringe. But, fascinated, he stared into Stone's eyes, andin the death-like silence came a voice,--the voice of LucyCarrington,--in a burst of ringing laughter! Loria's eyes seemed to startfrom his head, and the sweat gathered in great drops on his forehead, asthe voice of his aunt spoke: "This song is one of Carr's favorites," theyheard, distinctly. "I'll sing it for him."
Then, in Miss Lucy's high, clear notes, came the song, "Oh, Believe Me IfAll Those Endearing Young Charms."
Before the last strains came, Loria was raving like a maniac. He hadnever heard of the phonograph records of his aunt's songs, for they hadmeant to surprise him with them on his next trip home.
"Have mercy!" he cried: "stop her! Oh, my God! what does it all mean?"
"Confess," ordered Fleming Stone.
"I will confess! I do confess! I did send her the powder, just as yousay. I wrote her to dress up like Cleopatra, and put on her pearls, andscarabs, and fasten an asp, a paper one, at her throat, and take thestuff, and it would cause Cleopatra's beauty to come to her. I told herto hold in her hand something belonging to the man she loved. It was agreat scheme,--a fine scheme,----" Loria was babbling insanely now. "Idon't see how any one ever found it out. I was so careful! I made herpromise to burn all my notes and letters about it, before I would sendthe powder. _Who_ suspected it? I planned everything so carefully--_so_carefully--Made her promise to burn everything,--everything--letters ofinstruction, powder-papers, everything must be burned, Isaid--everything,--and she said, yes, Carr, everything. Over and over Iwrote it. Told her that if she left anything unburnt the charm wouldn'twork, and it didn't. Ha, ha," with a demoniac chuckle, "it didn't!"
"Take me away, I can't stand it," moaned Pauline.
Again there was a silence. The phonograph had ceased; Loria sat, with hishead fallen forward on his hands, at his table. He was still, and Stonewondered if he were alive. Then, suddenly, he lifted his head, and criedout.
"Yes, I did it because I was crazy, _wild_ over my Nile scheme. Ah, thatwonderful work! It will never be done now. When I heard Stone was here Iknew it was all up. I planned to lose Polly for a time,--not forever, no,_not_ forever--I would have found her some day,--some day,--all dead, inthe desert, all dead----"
Pauline fainted and Stone flew to her side. But in a moment she revived,and he begged her to go home. She consented, and Ahri, dependable now,took her to the hotel.
Fleming Stone and Mr. Pitts attempted to get Loria to calm down and talkmore coherently. Shortly he did so. He gave a full account of all thedetails of his crime, and though he denied the intention of leavingPauline to die in the desert, his word was not believed by the twolisteners.
Finally, he rose and walked across the room. "You see," he said, a littlewearily, but quite sane, now, "I've a bad streak in me. My father was aSpaniard and he killed his own uncle. The Loria line is a series ofcriminals. Aunt Lucy never knew this, for my parents lived always abroad.But blood will tell. And my father, after he killed my uncle, followed itup by taking his own life,--like this,----"
Though Stone caught the gesture and sprang to prevent it, Loria was tooquick for him. He had snatched a dagger from the table, and plunged itinto his heart.
Both men leaped at him, but it was all over in an instant. Carr Loria hadhimself dealt the punishment for his crimes.
"Perhaps it's as well," said Stone, musingly. "A trial, and all that,would have been awful for his cousin, and the family connections. Now thematter can be disposed of with far less notoriety and publicity."
"Yes," agreed Pitts.
Fleming Stone waited till morning to tell Pauline of her cousin's death.She was wide-eyed and pathetically sad, but composed.
"It is all so dreadful," she said, "but, Fleming, I knew it before I leftNew York. I didn't _know_ it, exactly, but I felt sure it must be so, andI had to come here to see. Then I found Carr so gay and light-hearted Ithought I must be mistaken, and I was glad, too. Then when you came, Icouldn't make up my mind whether you suspected Carr, or whether----"
"Whether I came only to see you," supplied Stone. "It was both, dear."
"What made you think of Carr, in the first place?"
"Because there was no real evidence against any one else, though thepolice were making things dangerous for you, my little girl." Stone heldher close, as if even yet there might be a hint of danger. "And I madeMiss Frayne confess that she didn't really see you leave your aunt's roomthat night, though she did honestly think that you were in there, andyour aunt was talking to you. Nor you didn't see her actually leaving theroom, did you?"
"I only saw her with her hand on the door-knob. That was my first glimpseof her, and I thought she was coming out."
"No; she thought of going in to
apologize for her hasty temper. But,hearing a voice, she paused, and so thrilling was the talk she overheard,she waited there some minutes."
"And then, you thought of Carr?"
"I sized up all the people who had motive, and Loria was surely in thatcategory. And then I found the powder-papers. Dear, those would have gonesorely against you if any one else had discovered them. I resolved towrest the secret from those papers, and I did!"
"You did? How?"
"By studying them for hours; with magnifying glasses, and without. Ifound at last a clue,--a possible clue,--in the fact that the edges ofthe papers had been cut with the curved blades of a pair of manicurescissors. I had Jane bring me all the manicure scissors in thehouse,--thank Heaven, _your_ scissors didn't come within a mile offitting the edges! You see, the papers were faintly scalloped on everyedge. They _must_ have been cut by the little curved blades, and rarelydo two pairs of manicure scissors make the same scallop. The greatdiscovery was that Miss Lucy's own scissors did fit them! This, dearest,would have pointed to you in the eyes of these determined police, for youhad access to your aunt's toilet appointments."
"So did Anita or anybody in the house!"
"Yes, but the police were hot on your track, and ready to bend any hintyour way. Oh, thank God, that I could and did save you! Well, I furthernoticed that these scissors of Miss Carrington's were of a differentpattern from the brushes and mirrors of her set. I went to Estelle, andshe told me that the last time Carr Loria was at home he took a greatfancy to his aunt's scissors and asked her to give them to him. She did,and when she tried to get another pair with that especial shaped blade,she could do so only by taking a different patterned handle! Do youwonder that I came straight over here?"
"No," and the lovely eyes beamed with admiration of Stone's cleverness,as well as with affection.
"Then, last night, I went to Loria's rooms, and found not only thescissors, that fitted exactly the scalloped papers, but found that theoutside powder wrapper is undoubtedly a piece of his own writing-paper.It is the same color and texture. Moreover, as he confessed it all, thereis no further room for doubt. Another hint I had was when I found some ofLoria's letters in your aunt's desk. Not their contents, they were justsuch as any affectionate nephew might write his aunt, but thechirography. You know the letter from him that you showed me, wastypewritten, and I judged nothing from it. But his handwriting,--I havestudied the science,--gave evidence of criminal traits, and I felt surethen I was on the right track. I brought the phonograph record tofrighten him into confession, and it did. Ahri started it, in the nextroom, at my signal."
"I might have known you would do it. When I came here, you know, I wroteand asked you to drop the case. I feared your investigations would leadto Carr."
"It had to be a question of his guilt or yours," returned Stone gravely."You don't know, darling, how near you were to arrest! Let's not think ofit ever again. I'll engage to keep your dear mind occupied with pleasantthoughts all the rest of our life. You don't want to stay in Cairo, doyou? Shall we try Algiers for a honeymoon spot? Or, if you don't wantAfrica at all, how about Greece, or over to Algeciras? Whither away, myHeart's Dearest?"
"Whither? Together, then what matter whither?" said Pauline, her eyesfull of a love deep enough to drown the sorrows that had filled the pastweeks.
"Together always," he responded, holding her to him; "always, myPauline."
_CAROLYN WELLS'_
_Baffling detective stories in which Fleming Stone, the great American Detective, displays his remarkable ingenuity for unravelling mysteries_
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"The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece! Where burning Sappho loved and sung,"
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The Civilization of Babylonia and Assyria
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_A Wonderful Story of Heroism_
The Home of the Blizzard
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Have you heard Sir Douglas lecture? If you have, you will want to readthis book that you may become better acquainted with his charmingpersonality, and to preserve in the three hundred and fifteen superbillustrations with the glittering text, a permanent record of thegreatest battle that has ever been waged against the wind, the snow, thecrevice ice and the prolonged darkness of over two years in Antarcticlands.
It has been estimated by critics as the most interesting and the greatestaccount of Polar Exploration. For instance, the London Athenaeum, anauthority, said: "No polar book ever written has surpassed these volumesin sustained interest or in the variety of the subject matter." It isindeed a tale of pluck, heroism and infinite endurance that comes as arelief in the face of accounts of the same qualities sacrificed in Europefor a cause so less worthy.
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This is the tale of a summer love affair carried on by an unusual butaltogether bewitching lover in a small summer resort in New England.Allan Shortland, a gentleman, a tramp, a poet, and withal the happiest ofhappy men, is the hero; Beryl Vernon, as pretty as the ripple of hername, is the heroine. Two more appealing personalities are seldom foundwithin the covers of a book. Fun and plenty of it, romance and plenty ofit,--and an end full of happiness for the characters, and to the readerregret that the story is over. The illustrations by H. Weston Taylor, thedecorations by Edward Stratton Holloway and the tasteful sealed packageare exquisite.
_A New Volume in THE STORIES ALL CHILDREN LOVE SERIES_
Heidi
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The Little Iliad
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A "Hewlett" that you and every one else will enjoy! It combines the richromance of his earliest work with the humor, freshness and gentle satireof his more recent.
The whimsical, delightful novelist has dipped his pen in the inkhorn ofmodern matrimonial difficulties and brings it out dripping with amiablehumor, delicious but fantastic conjecture. Helen of Troy lives again inthe Twentieth Century, but now of Austria; beautiful, bewitching,love-compelling, and with it all married to a ferocious German who hasdrained the cup and is now squeezing the dregs of all that life has tooffer. He has locomotor ataxia but that does not prevent his Neitscheanwill from dominating all about him, nor does it prevent Maurice Hewlettfrom making him one of the most interesting and portentous charactersportrayed by the hand of an Englishman in many a day. Four brothers fallin love with the fair lady,--there are amazing but happy consequences.The author has treated an involved story in a delightful, naive andrefreshing manner.
The Sea-Hawk
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Sabatini has startled the reading public with this magnificent romance!It is a thrilling treat to find a vivid, clean-cut adventure yarn.Sincere in this, we beg you, brothers, fathers, husbands and comfortableold bachelors, to read this tale and even to hand it on to your friendsof the fairer sex, provided you are certain that they do not mind theglint of steel and the shrieks of dying captives.
The Man From the Bitter Roots
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"Better than 'Me-Smith'"--that is the word of those who have read thisstory of the powerful, quiet, competent Bruce Burt. You recall the humorof "Me-Smith,"--wait until you read the wise sayings of Uncle Billy andthe weird characters of the Hinds Hotel. You recall some of thoseflashing scenes of "Me-Smith"--wait until you read of the blizzard in theBitter Roots, of Bruce Burt throwing the Mexican wrestling champion, ofthe reckless feat of shooting the Roaring River with the dynamos upon therafts, of the day when Bruce Burt almost killed a man who tried to burnout his power plant,--then you will know what hair-raising adventuresreally are. The tale is dramatic from the first great scene in that logcabin in the mountains when Bruce Burt meets the murderous onslaught ofhis insane partner.
A Man's Hearth
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The key words to all Miss Ingram's stories are "freshness," "speed" and"vigor." "From the Car Behind" was aptly termed "one continuous joyride." "A Man's Hearth" has all the vigor and go of the former story andalso a heart interest that gives a wider appeal. A young New Yorkmillionaire, at odds with his family, finds his solution in working forand loving the optimistic nurse-maid who brought him from the depths oftrouble and made for him a hearthstone. There are fascinating side issuesbut this is the essential story and it is an inspiring one. It will beone of the big books of the winter.
_By the author of "MARCIA SCHUYLER" "LO! MICHAEL" "THE BEST MAN" etc._
The Obsession of Victoria Gracen
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Every mother, every church-worker, every individual who desires to bringadded happiness into the lives of others should read this book. A newnovel by the author of "Marcia Schuyler" is always a treat for those ofus who want clean, cheerful, uplifting fiction of the sort that you canread with pleasure, recommend with sincerity and remember withthankfulness. This book has the exact touch desired. The story is of theeffect that an orphan boy has upon his lonely aunt, his Aunt Vic. Herobsession is her love for the lad and his happiness. There is thenever-failing fund of fun and optimism with the high religious purposethat appears in all of Mrs. Lutz's excellent stories.
Miranda
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_"GRIPPING" DETECTIVE TALES_
The White Alley
By CAROLYN WELLS. Frontispiece. 12mo. $1.25 net.
FLEMING STONE, the ingenious American detective, has become one of thebest known characters in modern fiction. He is the supreme wizard ofcrime detection in the WHITE BIRCHES MYSTERY told in,--"THE WHITE ALLEY."
The _Boston Transcript_ says: "As an incomparable solver of criminalenigmas, Stone is in a class by himself. A tale which will grip theattention." This is what another says:--"Miss Wells's suave and polisheddetective, Fleming Stone, goes through the task set for him with celerityand dispatch. Miss Wells's characteristic humor and cleverness mark theconversations."--_New York Times._
The Woman in the Car
By RICHARD MARSH. 12mo. $1.35 net.
Do you like a thrilling tale? If so, read this one and we almostguarantee that you will not stir from your chair until you turn the lastpage. As the clock struck midnight on one of the most fashionable streetsof London in the Duchess of Ditchling's handsome limousine, ArthurTowzer, millionaire mining magnate, is found dead at the wheel, horriblymangled. Yes, this is a tale during the reading of which you will leaveyour chair only to turn up the gas. When you are not shuddering, you arethinking; your wits are balanced against the mind and system of thefamous Scotland Yard, the London detective headquarters. The men or womenwho can solve the mystery without reading the last few pages will deservea reward,--they should apply for a position upon the Pinkerton force.
_THE NOVEL THEY'RE ALL TALKING ABOUT_
The Rose-Garden Husband
By MARGARET WIDDEMER. Illustrated by Walter Biggs. Small 12mo. $1.00 net.
"A Benevolent Friend just saved me from missing 'The Rose-Garden Husband.' It is something for thanksgiving, so I send thanks to you and the author. The story is now cut out and stitched and in my collection of 'worth-while' stories, in a portfolio that holds only the choicest stories from many magazines. There is a healthy tone in this that puts it above most of these choice ones. And a smoothness of action, a reality of motive and speech that comforts the soul of a veteran reviewer."
_From a Letter to the Publishers._
Edition after edition of this novel has been sold, surely you are notgoing to miss it. It is going the circle of family after family,--everyone likes it. The _New York Times_, a paper that knows, calls it "asparkling, rippling little tale." Order it _now_,--the cost is but onedollar.
The Diary of a Beauty
By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL. Illustrated by William Dorr Steele. 12mo. $1.25 net.
From the assistant postmistress in a small New England village to theowner of a great mansion on Fifth Avenue is the story told not asoutsiders saw it, but as the beautiful heroine experiences it,--anaccount so naive, so deliciously cunning, so true, that the reader turnspage after page with an inner feeling of absolute satisfaction.
The Dusty Road
>
By THERESE TYLER. Frontispiece by H. Weston Tayler. 12mo. $1.25 net.
This is a remarkable story of depth and power,--the struggle of ElizabethAnderson to dear herself of her sordid surroundings. Such books are notwritten every day, nor every year, nor every ten years. It is stimulatingto a higher, truer life.
RECENT VALUABLE PUBLICATIONS
The Practical Book of Period Furniture
Treating of English Period Furniture, and American Furniture of Colonial and Post-Colonial date, together with that of the typical French Periods.
By HAROLD DONALDSON EBERLEIN and ABBOTT McCLURE. With 225 illustrations in color, doubletone and line. Octavo. Handsomely decorated cloth. In a box. $5.00 net.
This book places at the disposal of the general reader all theinformation he may need in order to identify and classify any piece ofperiod furniture, whether it be an original, or a reproduction. Theauthors have greatly increased the value of the work by adding anillustrated chronological key by means of which the reader candistinguish the difference of detail between the various related periods.One cannot fail to find the book absorbingly interesting as well as mostuseful.
The Practical Book of Oriental Rugs
By DR. G. GRIFFIN LEWIS, Author of "The Mystery of the Oriental Rug." New Edition, revised and enlarged. 20 full-page illustrations in full color. 93 illustrations in doubletone. 70 designs in line. Folding chart of rug characteristics and a map of the Orient. Octavo. Handsomely bound. In a box. $5.00 net.
Have you ever wished to be able to judge, understand, and appreciate thecharacteristics of those gems of Eastern looms? This is the book that youhave been waiting for, as all that one needs to know about oriental rugsis presented to the reader in a most engaging manner with illustrationsthat almost belie description. "From cover to cover it is packed withdetailed information compactly and conveniently arranged for readyreference. Many people who are interested in the beautiful fabrics ofwhich the author treats have long wished for such a book as this and willbe grateful to G. Griffin Lewis for writing it."--_The Dial._
The Practical Book of Outdoor Rose Growing
NEW EDITION REVISED AND ENLARGED
By GEORGE C. THOMAS, JR. Elaborately illustrated with 96 perfect photographic reproductions in full color of all varieties of roses and a few half tone plates. Octavo. Handsome cloth binding, in a slip case. $4.00 net.
This work has caused a sensation among rose growers, amateurs andprofessionals. In the most practical and easily understood way the readeris told just how to propagate roses by the three principal methods ofcutting, budding and grafting. There are a number of pages in which thecomplete list of the best roses for our climate with theircharacteristics are presented. One prominent rose grower said that thesepages were worth their weight in gold to him. The official bulletin ofthe Garden Club of America said:--"It is a book one must have." It is infact in every sense practical, stimulating, and suggestive.
The Practical Book of Garden Architecture
By PHEBE WESTCOTT HUMPHREYS. Frontispiece in color and 125 illustrations from actual examples of garden architecture and house surroundings. Octavo. In a box. $5.00 net.
This beautiful volume has been prepared from the standpoints of eminentpracticability, the best taste, and general usefulness for the ownerdeveloping his own property,--large or small, for the owner employing aprofessional garden architect, for the artist, amateur, student, andgarden lover. The author has the gift of inspiring enthusiasm. Her plansare so practical, so artistic, so beautiful, or so quaint and pleasingthat one cannot resist the appeal of the book, and one is inspired tomake plans, simple or elaborate, for stone and concrete work to embellishthe garden.
Handsome Art Works of Joseph Pennell
The reputation of the eminent artist is ever upon the increase. His booksare sought by all who wish their libraries to contain the best in modernart. Here is your opportunity to determine upon the purchase of three ofhis most sought-after volumes.
Joseph Pennell's Pictures of the Panama Canal
(Fifth printing) 28 reproductions of lithographs made on the Isthmus of Panama between January and March, 1912, with Mr. Pennell's Introduction giving his experiences and impressions, and a full description of each picture. Volume 7-1/2 x 10 inches. Beautifully printed on dull finished paper. Lithograph by Mr. Pennell on cover. $1.25 net.
"Mr. Pennell continues in this publication the fine work which has wonfor him so much deserved popularity. He does not merely portray thetechnical side of the work, but rather prefers the humanelement."--_American Art News._
Our Philadelphia
By ELIZABETH ROBINS PENNELL. Illustrated by Joseph Pennell. Regular Edition. Containing 105 reproductions of lithographs by Joseph Pennell. Quarto. 7-1/2 x 10 inches. 552 pages. Handsomely bound in red buckram. Boxed. $7.50 net.
Autograph Edition. Limited to 289 copies (Now very scarce). Contains 10 drawings, reproduced by a new lithograph process, in addition to the illustrations that appear in the regular edition. Quarto. 552 pages. Specially bound in genuine English linen buckram in City colors, in cloth covered box. $18.00 net.
An intimate personal record in text and in picture of the lives of thefamous author and artist in a city with a brilliant history, greatbeauty, immense wealth.
Life of James McNeill Whistler
By ELIZABETH ROBINS and JOSEPH PENNELL. Thoroughly revised Fifth Edition of the authorized Life, with much new matter added which was not available at the time of issue of the elaborate 2 volume edition, now out of print. Fully illustrated with 97 plates reproduced from Whistler's works. Crown octavo. 450 pages. Whistler binding, deckle edges. $3.50 net. Three-quarter grain levant, $7.50 net.
"In its present form and with the new illustrations, some of whichpresent to us works which are unfamiliar to us, its popularity will begreatly increased."--_International Studio._
The Stories All Children Love Series
This set of books for children comprises some of the most famous storiesever written. Each book has been a tried and true friend in thousands ofhomes where there are boys and girls. Fathers and mothers rememberingtheir own delight in the stories are finding that this handsome editionof old favorites brings even more delight to their children. The bookshave been carefully chosen, are beautifully illustrated, have attractivelining papers, dainty head and tail pieces, and the decorative bindingsmake them worthy of a permanent place on the library shelves.
Heidi By JOHANNA SPYRI. Translated by Elisabeth P. Stork The Cuckoo Clock By MRS. MOLESWORTH. The Swiss Family Robinson Edited by G. E. MITTON. The Princess and the Goblin By GEORGE MACDONALD. The Princess and Curdie By GEORGE MACDONALD. At the Back of the North Wind By GEORGE MACDONALD. A Dog of Flanders By "OUIDA." Bimbi By "OUIDA." Mopsa, the Fairy By JEAN INGELOW. The Chronicles of Fairyland By FERGUS HUME. Hans Andersen's Fairy Tales
Each large octavo, with from 8 to 12 colored illustrations. Handsome cloth binding, decorated in gold and color. $1.25 net, per volume.
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