Ontario Community Newspapers

Oshawa Daily Times, 11 May 1928, p. 7

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Arg «wont Wa wAlL 1 EV if it fi i is fit fi fi i a fee Dawn, for the offered bccause of a crime i. never committed, The B 3 Dawn runs into foul Peter meets the girl of his dreams ~the 'girl he. had seen two years age in a London theatre. in : Rcounting his story, Captain umm ically guards Peter's iden! ahd introduces him as 'Alec Dunn." Jaffray, secretary ate approaches Captain Mumm and Peter with a proposi- tion. to secure and divide the re- ward money, That night Peter ¥ seeks Marion on deck and tells her his story, Rather than kill Ss the mewl awakened friend. + Ship between them, Peter res «tains his assumed name, Next A morning he-is rudely awakens Med and accused of the brutal * murder id J y. Worst of b | all, his 1 identity is disclos. iE and he realizes that he has ®lied to Marion, The girl he i#loves sits dazedly by, watch. ing the coll of circumstantial evidence wind tighter and tighter about Peter through Rand's expert questioning, Peter's Defense "lI have no more questions to ask," said Rand with a faint-smile, He swung back on Peter. "We come 'back to you now, I think," he said harshly, 'At 11.30 o'clock last night, at which time it is known that Mr, Jaffray was still alive, you were on deck with some of us, myself among others, You did not eome below with us then, I think it is fairly evident from Captain Mumm's rather--er--in~ direct replies that you did not go back to your cabin until, say 4.30 o'clock, at which hour Jenkins saw you at the foot of the companion- Aan, the native home of IL'S MANTLE way. In any case, perhaps you will tell us where you were between 11.30 o'clock and 4.30 o'clock?" They were all staring at -- again--no, not all--two of them weren't. The little red-haived skip- per wasn't---Marion wasa't. The little red-haired skipper was hunch- ed in his chair, and glaring again at Rand. Marion was sitting quite still, her eyes half closed. "I was on deck," said Peter. "All the time?" "Yes. > . "What were you doing there?" "Nothing," Peter answered. "Sit- ting there behind the deckhouse." "Do you mean to tell us that you sat there for five hours on a foggy and rather unpleasant night. when, after the experiences you had been through, the normal thing for any man to do, unless there was some very strong incentivé to do otherwise, was to seek rest and sleep? Do you expect us to believe so paltry and so unbelievable an explanation as that?" "Whether you believe it or not," said Peter, a curious indifference in his voice now, "it is true. I sat in that chair, as it appears now, though 1 did not realize it at the time, for five hours." "Well, is there anything else you want to say?" ; "Yes," 'said Peter coldly, "when you are quite through." "I'm quite through," returned Rand curtly. "You have made that rather obvious yourself, haven't you?" z Peter pointed to the blood-stain- ed sheet of paper that Rand still held. "That paper," he said quietly; "your claim is that it was written by Mr. Jarrfray?" "Claim!" Rand puckered brows in a puzzled fashion. else could have written it?" "That is not, what I asked you," said Peter sharply. "Ah, I see!" said Rand firomic- ally, "The handwriting-expert idea! You dispute the handwrit- ing?" ; J "I had not thought Peter answered icily. answer my question?" "It hardly requires one. Cer- tainly, we do not question for an instant that Mr, Jaffray wrote this." "Then," said Peter, 'perhaph you will tell me how, after I had gone into that cabin and murdered Mr, Jaffray, a dead man Was able to write, not only what is on that paper you have there, but any- thing at all?" "You've hit it, my lad!" The words came with brisk ferocity frony the little red-haired skipper, "Let him take a turn and answer that!" No ofe else for a moment said anything--nor, as far as Peter could see, had his question, which had been thudding at his brain from almost the first moment he had 'read the serawled accusation which to him had seemed, to con- fute itself even to the point of ah- surdity, made any impression on his "Who of that," "Will you the tea bush, produces teas which are famed the world over for their strength, riche ness and flavor, " The sup rd ve quality o ed Rose Orange Pekoe is largely due to these fine quality Assam teas, of which it is chiefly composed, Every package guaranteed, 7.E rior and distinc | anyhody in the room except.Cap- {tain Mumm, | Rand was smiling in a sort of pityingly supercilions way. "It is only fair to ourselves to say that the same question sug- gested itself to us when the crime | was discovered," he drawled. "It | is a question, however, that, uns der the circumstances, will prob- ably never be answered except by conjecture. That he did write it, however, is, certain, The fact « By Frank L. Packard ® Copyright by Public Ledger that his statement that you are Peter Blake proves to he true, at once gives authority to the writ- ing and supplies the motive for the murder. He found out you were Peter Blake, and, from what he wrote on this paper, the infer- ence is that you killed him to_es- cape exposure and capture. * How he came to write those words is, as 1 have already said, a matter of conjecture; but it seems to us that there is at least ome very simple and practical theory which would explain it. If it was you who killled him, you know better than we do whether the light was left burning or not. It doesn't matter very much. The murderer left Jaffray for dead. Jaffray revived for perhaps a few mo- ments--it could hardly have been more. < If the light had been turn ed out, there was an electric switch at the head of his bunk. He could reach that; but he had not the strength to reach the bell- push which was across the cabin near the door. "He couldn't give the alarm; he couldn't ery out--you know why-- his throat was too fiendishly cut. He pulled or dragged himself from the bunk, managed to scrawl the few words on this paper, and before he could finish, collapsed on the floor." ; The Outcast Peter pushed his hand across his eyes. The explanation was plausible, simple and believable. A jury would believe it--just as a jury would believe the cleverly planted evidence against him in the case of Murchison -- just as these people in the room here be- lieved it all. A reaction came unnerving, sweeping aside compo- sure, driving in upon him a sense of his helplessness and impotence. His mind. attempted to wrestle anew with the problem, but as though in utter weariness refused to do anything but ask and keep on asking, and repeat over and over again the same question: In whose place was he standing here? He heard them talking. gather- ed together in a little group now; he was consicous that Marion, without a glance in his direction, had risen and left the lounge; but his mind went on repeating, like some poor parrot obsesssed with the only words it knew, the ques- tion: ' In whose place was he stand- ing here? The voice of the yacht's com- mander, raised in gruff but sober tones, reached him now. "There is no question whatev- er in my mind as to his guilt, and I should not hesitate to put him under arrest for Jaffray's murder, in any case; but, as Peter Blake, he is already wanted by the po- lice for the murder of Mr. Mur- chison anyway, We will wireless or radio a full report at once to the authorities and ask for in- structions; and meanwhile. of course, we will keep him under lock and key." He stepped for- ward toward Peter, "You un- derstand, Blake?" he said sterpn- ly. "You will be locked up until we can hand you over to the po- lice." ee A faint. flush dyed Peter's cheeks--but he made no answer, There was no answer to make. The yacht"s commander nodded curtly to the two sailors. "Take him away!' he ordered, Turmoil Marion stood at the yacht's rail, She held her face up to the breeze, unconscious that it took c Kellogg's Corn Flakes are not only America's favorite breakfast cereal--but their flavor and delightful crispness is famous the world over; More than 11,000,000 people enjoy them ~-- prefer them -- every day. » * fruits or honey added. A treat for the kiddies' evening meal. ' Order at hotels, restaurants. On dining-cars. Sold by all grocers. Made by Kellogg in London, Ont. Kellogg's are famous for "oven- freshness'! The patented waxtite inner-sealed wrapper pro- tects their wonderful flavor and WOLE vm 8 €.W. GILLETT CO. LTD. TORONTO, CAN, Ml A liberties with truant wisps of hair, and in the sunlight of the new morning, tossed them here and there Hke little glinting, golden fluries across her forehead and about her ears. She threw her head back, inviting the coolness of the breeze upon her bare throat--it had been stifling in the lounge there, and it had seemed at the last that she could not breathe, She clung to the rail with both her hands, clung to it desperate- ly--and yet the sea was smooth, NDA Ay ar ANA pucker came between them. She was suddenly ill at ease, sudceonly a little trightened.. "Questions that I would not care to answer!" She forced am incredul- ous smile. "Really, Mr, Raud, that is rather a strange thing lo say!" "1 do not like my role mow," he said gravely. "But 1 want you to be- lieve me when I say that I am thinking only of you, You told me --forgive me, 1 would mot wil- ingly recall anything that wou'd cause you either pain or embarrass- ment--you told me that there-- that there was no one else." She drew back a step, her face a little white, "Well?" She had meant the word to come coldly, perhaps a little for- biddingly, from her lips; it came, instead, full of a strange suspense. Rand Versus Peter x ; standing beside you when Blake came "aboard last night," Rand said slowly. "1 don't think anybody else saw, I am sure nobody else did, But--forgive me again-- there was more than mere recogni- tion in the way you two looked at each ether." She turned her head to stare out over the sea again, gripping the rail withtightly clenched hands, He had seen. She had not thought anybody had seen, She forced herself to speak. "Yes?" she demanded. Rand's voice was very low as he answered: ] "He said' his name Duna." Marion did not move now, Some- thing of great pain, of great hurt was throbbing in her head, beating with tightly clenched hands. He had her temples, Emotions that she could not define came surging upon her, confusing her. She hated the thought that this man was, as it were, holding something over her; "fw was Alec Men's Oxfords, all sizes, 3 Panco Soles $2.75 Special Sale, Dominion Clothing Co. G8 King St, W, Phone 2141 tranquil this morning, smiling, Tranquil! Smiling! There seemed to be something horribly incongruous in that--that for the first time 'since they had left Sydney the sea and all nature should awake in {its most joyous and happy mood. There seemed to be a brutal callousness about the frolicking, dancing rippl®s at play, as they chased each other with carefree abandon, and. like laughter, broke into tiny crests of purling foam -- for last night they had been ugly, rolling swells that had swept men to their deaths. Yesterday the sun had been veiled in fog, and all the day had been gray and sorghers and this morning a ghastly and inhuman thing had happened, a crime that sickened the hearts of men, that eried to God for ven- geance, and from the sight of which one shrank away--and the sun, already well above the hori- zon rim, was mounting blithely to take its place in a cloudless, perfect sky! Last night* there had ahoard a man--strangely--out of the very ocean--bringing strange stirrings of memories--wonderings, A man with high bead and sun- tanned face, who was big with the brawn of young manhood, depend- able in his strength--a clean man. Today he was a wretched weakling, a leper amongst his fellows, a par- fah, a man whose hands were dirty with the foulest of all dirt--a mur- derer! Last night he had been Alec Dunn, Today he was Peter Blake, Yesterday nature had sulked, sullen and morose, unlovely, bale- ful in her ill-tempered mood, To- day as though the very horror of the night had appeased her and had coaxed her from her waywardness, she was all smiles and merriment. A step sounded along the deck. Marion glanced in that direction-- and immedjately faced seaward again, It was Herman Rand. Jt was over, then--that miserable sordid business in the lounge, She wished he were not coming. She bad taken an unreasonable dislike to the man for the part he had just played. It was unreasonable, of course. She did not pretend to her- self that it was anything else. Somebody had to ask all those questions, and they couldn't be con- siderate questions, nor could con- sideration be unduly shown to the one to whom they were put. He had reached her gide. "I saw you come along the deck here, Miss Garth," he said quietly, "and I thought perhaps you would like to know what the decision bas been. Captain Stone has put Blake under arrest, and is having him locked up somewhere aft." Marion nodded her head. She dig rot look up. Rand drummed for a moment ox the teakwood rail.. "I didn't care particularly for my role of chief inquisitor in there-- though I suggested it myself," he said abruptly. "I didn't think you quite approved of it, either. I was afraid from your expression once or twice that you didn't. I don't think I should have taken it on except for one reason, and I want you to know --I think you should know--what that reason was. It was on yous acgomnt, Miss Garth." "On my account!" Marion tura- ed sharply in surprise. "I don't know what you mean, Mr. Rand." He leaned a little toward her, smiling in a sober way. *I wanted to save you from the possibility of being asked any ques- fons," he said simply. "Questions that I did not think you would care lo answer." Marion's blue come eyes widened--a faction « 192¢ she hated the thought that her ac- tions should be misunderstood; and, strangely, most curiously of all, she hated the thought that this man should have intruded upon something that somehow---she could not quite define that, either --Was a very intimate thing im her life. True, it was a broken, shat- tered thing mow, a source of iu- tense and bitter pain, and bitter amazement and horror-- but per- haps for that very reason more in- violate in its intimacy, as some- thing that belonged to herself alone. And then anger came, burn- ing, hot. Those last words of his were an indictment. They indicated her as an accomplice; they accused her of love for this man who had murdered----Daddy Tom. 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