Tragedy Trail | Page 6

with horror, some of them sobbing. Even Mrs. Burke, who usually was self-possessed and calm, now seemed to be stricken with terror as she rushed toward the two men in the doorway, gasping, her arms outstretched, trying to explain the, thing.
"She just--just toppled over!" Mrs. Burke cried. "I was right there beside her when----"
The physician hurried into the room and knelt by the girl. The detective followed him, glancing quickly around the apartment.
"She has fainted, probably too much excitement and the horror of her chum's death," the detective said. "You'd better get her into a bed and give her something to make her sleep, doctor."
The physician got slowly to his feet and stepped back, turning his back to the other boarders and whispering to the detective without any of the others overhearing.
"You are wrong," he said. "The girl is dead--and from the same cause as the other. You'd better telephone for help!"

CHAPTER III.
TRIMBLE TAKES THE TRAIL.
TERRY TRIMBLE looked up from the volume of poetry he was reading and glanced across the library table at Billings, his secretary and assistant.
"Billings," he said, "this is a terrible storm."
"Yes, sir," said Billings.
"Listen to that thunder! And the lightning display is something unusual. I am glad, Billings, that I have ample funds, a comfortable suite, an agreeable secretary, cases filled with books, an easy-chair before the gas grate, slippers and a dressing gown. This would be a terrible night, Billings, to venture out."
"Yes, sir."
"And so, naturally, I shall not do so," Terry Trimble declared. "If the governor stabs the mayor in some mysterious fashion, and causes the blame to be put upon an alderman, I shall not interfere. Let the police settle their own alleged puzzles. I have one of my own, Billings."
"A puzzle, sir?"
"Exactly. Here is a volume of verse--some critics allege that it is poetry. I am trying to ascertain what the publisher saw in it to cause him to risk his money and reputation to bring out the book. It is some puzzle, Billings; it is, indeed."
"I suppose so, sir."
"And, in addition to that----"
Terry Trimble stopped the sentence in the middle, one hand raised in the air after the manner of a professional lecturer, and grinned at Billings.
"Some fool is attempting to use the telephone, Billings," he said. "Nobody should use a telephone during a storm like this unless a doctor is needed. I am of the opinion that the storm has crossed all the wires, and, if you answer that call, Billings, somebody will probably want to know if this is Jack, and will he come over to-night,despite the storm just to show that he truly loves her."
"I don't doubt it, sir," Billings said, smiling.
"You are an excellent secretary, Billings, with one exception. You are deaf on nights such as this. Were the telephone bell to ring, you would not hear it, would you, Billings? You would not! As I was saying, Billings, this alleged poet must have hypnotized the publisher, or else he saw him bury the body. I am of the opinion----Oh, answer the thing, Billings!"
Billings got up and walked toward the telephone, still smiling.
"And, Billings!"
"Sir?"
"If that is one of my alleged friends who wants me to come to the club, tell him I have been taken down with smallpox. If it is a lady I am busy on a case. I do not intend to leave the house tonight."
Billings took down the receiver and answered the call.
"I'm afraid that you cannot speak to Mr. Trimble, sir," Billings said. "He is busy and must not be disturbed." He turned his head, and Terry Trimble winked at him. "What's that, sir? Urgent, you say? Nevertheless, I feel quite sure------Oh, I'll tell him, sir."
He turned to Trimble and grinned again, putting one hand over the mouth of the transmitter.
"Police headquarters, sir," he said. "The commissioner speaking. He says he wouldn't bother you, except that it is urgent."
"Everything is always urgent with the commissioner," Terry Trimble grumbled.
He left the comfortable chair and stepped across to the telephone.
"Hello!" he cried. "Commissioner? What seems to be the trouble now? One of your patrolmen got lost in the rain, or something like that? What's that? Don't know whether it's murder, suicide or accident? Why, in Heaven's name, don't you find out before you bother me? Oh, I see. You want me to find out, eh? Well, tell me about it."
Billings, standing a few feet away, watched Terry Trimble's face as he listened at the telephone. He analyzed the expressions of it with wisdom. Soon he turned and slipped from the room. When he returned Trimble was still listening at the telephone. Billings had Trimble's overshoes, coat, raincoat, hat and gloves.
"Very well. I suppose I'll have to look into it," Trimble said. "I'll be over immediately, yes!"
Billings reached out and pressed the button that warned