Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 139: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

MYSTERY OF VOODOO MANOR, Managed to pass along to her accomplice many a valuable bit she had purloined. He, in his turn, sold the stolen articles to some unprincipled ‘ fence.’ “They may have even planned more audaciously, hoping to unearth the hiding place of Miss Loring’s reputed fortune in pearls. Be that as it may, they soon found how futile such a discovery would be in the impregnable, perpetually locked room.” Still, I couldn’t see the peculiar signifi- cance exerted by the death knife over these people, Blanche Pembroke, the man with the patch, Solomon Isaacs, and the man before us. “After Miss Loring confided in us, show- ing us the knife which was to play so signal a part shortly, she took the dagger down- stairs to cleanse it. She was much excited at our coming and because she had revealed the secret of her room to us. In addition, by some strange presentiment, she felt the evil doom which was closing in about her. “ She was called away from her cleansing of the knife by some excitement in the kitchen. She subsequently forgot that she had taken the dagger from its customary place behind the locked door of Room Num- ber 13.” Little lights began to dance behind my eyes. It seemed to me that Nancy was get- ting herself into a fearful tangle. “By chance Blanche Pembroke saw the knife for the first time. She recognized the value of its exotic, exquisite workman- ship as well as the beauty and the size of the opal set in its handle. So she added this unexpected prize to her other light fingered accomplishments. During our absence from Voodoo Manor, she slipped away unnoted and gave them all to her ac- complice. “She also gave the information that we had gone to the city. Upon this knowledge the man acted later when he tried to way- lay us in the woods. “Subsequently, without knowing how Miss Loring had been killed, this man sold the knife to Solomon Isaacs, as the pawn- broker testified. The injuries resulting from being thrown into the road by our car were covered by a leather patch. So, you see, Solomon Isaacs’s story is true.” — 9A | 609. “ But, Nancy,” I breathed, reckless in my excitement, “ how can you be so sure that his story is true? Of course, you real- ize that he may have bought the knife be- fore the crime. I should think this fact would pomt an inescapable finger toward Solomon Isaacs,” The prisoner stirred slightly. A sneer- ing smile swept over his lips to be smoothed away instantly. £ wondered what about my words had caused this obviously sarcas- tic smirk. Nancy shrugged wearily. “It is a com- plicated affair, and I do not wonder at your difficulty in following it. Your reasoning *would be correct were Issacs or the man with the patch guilty of collusion in a murder. 3 “But as I have already told you fhis is the assassin. You see, I possess more knowledge than you do. After entering the crime room and examining its contents, f have been at least one step in advance of you because of one significant observation which I made at the time. There is one thing you do not know—among others.” — “What is that?” I queried weakly, still floundering helplessly at Nancy’s imper- turbable calm in the face of what I thought would prove a stinging blow to her theory. “That,” she stated clearly, “is the factor of a second duplicate dagger.” “A second dagger!” Stebbins and I ex- claimed simultaneously. : Nancy nodded. ‘“ You know, the original knife with the opal eye owned by Miss Loring was not in her room the night of her murder. Blanche Pembroke had al- ready stolen it and passed it along to her confederate, who in his turn sold it to Solo- mon Issacs, as the pawnbroker told us.” “ B-b-but,” I stammered, ‘‘ —this second knife! Miss Loring didn’t show us that.” “No,” answered Nancy, soberly. “I doubt if Miss Loring even knew of its exis- tence. This duplicate dagger was brought by the man before us with the premeditated purpose of killing Felicia Loring. It was his own dagger which, behind the locked door of an impregnable room, irrevocably — silenced the owner of the other dagger. — “When the death knife was withdrawn from poor Miss Loring’s neck, I subjected SS = Comicbooks.co