The Argosy, April 1916 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

A MYSTERY OF ROSCOE CONKLING PARK. | 7 “Mr. Raymond wants the entire house- hold roused,” Yale said to Sims quietly. “The h as been robbed.” “Good Lord!” ear) Sims. > “Yes, sir. He sped away, and the woman had the maid revived before any one else appeared. But the services of Sims were scarcely - needed. The shrill screams of the hysteri- cal servant had penetrated almost every corner of the house, large as it was, and now excited and wondering people came from the main hall and the servants’ stair- case in the rear. Mrs. Raymond, with a dressing-gown over her night attire, rushed down and up to her husband, who had followed Yale out im a mechanical manner. Miss Nancy fol- lowed, and was swallowed up by a horde of servants who flocked from the rear hall, in all gradations of terror and bewilderment and almost all conditions of dishabille. Mr. Raymond swung around in a half circle, and viewed the group with eyes that flashed ominously. He was the chanticleer of this flock, and they should know it. “There is one missing,” his steely voice rang out. “I said everybody! No person under my roof is exempt from my orders at a time like this. Where is Miss Wayne?” Miss Raymond, still surrounded by ex- cited servants, and still ignorant of her great loss, looked around in a bewildered sort of way as if she half expected Beverly Wayne to appear out of the walls, or to drop from the ceiling. But Miss Wayne did not appear from anywhere. “T ask again, where is Miss Wayne?” thundered the millionaire. “T’ll bring her down, papa,” said Nancy. “Don’t be cross.” “Cross,” he muttered, as he watched her. Nancy ‘worked her way through the mass of servants, and ran upstairs with light feet. Somehow she had dressed more com- pletely than any one else. Greenland, who had gone back to his room to exchange his pajamas for trousers, came down and joined the group. He wore a troubled look, but was far from the ex- cited creature Mr. Raymond was. For some reason or other that cannot be explained, a hush, an air of expectancy, came upon all those gathered in the hall. And while silence reigned Nancy came run- ning down the broad stairs. ‘“‘Beverly is not in her room,” she cried. “Has anything happened to her?” “To her,” repeated Mr. Raymond, in a tone that all remembered afterward. “No, | but to you a -thing has happened. Come here.”’ He seized her arm, and hurried her in- side the dining-room with a roughness born of his own great agitation. “Look at that table!” he thundered. | “Last night it held thousands of dollars’ worth of wedding presents. Where are they now, and where is your pretty friend?” For a moment the girl stood staring at the bereft table. Then she cried: “Not Beverly! Oh, don’t tell me it was Beverly!” and sank in a faint in her mother’s arms. “Telephone the police!” commanded Mr. Raymond. CHAPTER IV. A DETECTIVE ARRIVES, "THE Utica headquarters of police is sit- uated on Pearl Street, and locks arms with the City Hall, which is on the corner of Pearl and Genesee. A stone-paved court lies between the two buildings, and this paved court answers to the famous Bridge of Sighs in the New York Tombs. For from the cells beneath the police headquarters the morning hatch. of prisoners is marched across this court to the courtroom of the city magistrate. In a little office largely occupied by tele- graphic apparatus and telephone the chief of police sat reading reports, and listening to the clicking of the telegraphic instru- ments. operator took up. the receiver. ‘For you, chief,” he said, relinquishing the wire to the outstretched hand of his superior. - “Well?” said the chief into the mouth- piece. ‘Police headquarters, yes. I am the chief, yes. Who is this? Mr, Raymond’s house on Genesee Street? Robbed? Who is this talking? ‘Oh, Sims, the butler. Go ahead, Sims. All the silver wedding presents? Mr. Ray- mond much excited? Miss Raymond pros- trated? One guest missing? Hold on. You needn’t tell me any more over the wire. I will send the best man I have. Tell Mr. Raymond not to worry. Nobody can get away with a job like that in Utica.” The chief hung up. “Get Blake in here,” he said. MICLOOOLK The telephone bell rang and the. C@