Tragedy Trail | Page 6

thought that I was some
detective before I watched him work. I'll never forget that case as long
as I live. It was a poison case, too.* We were---- Now, what?"
*["Murderer's Mail," in the June 3, 1919, issue of DETECTIVE
STORY MAGAZINE.]
They stopped, astounded. From the floor below there had come a
screech, followed by a chorus of shrieks. A dozen female voices cried
out in sudden alarm, the voice of Mrs. Burke being heard above the
others.
The physician and the detective dashed on down the stairs and ran
through the hallway to the rear of the building. They reached the door
of the back parlor and there stopped.
Mabel Higgins was stretched upon the floor in the middle of the room,
and the other girls were crowding back against one of the walls, badly
frightened, their eyes wide 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,"