The Mysteries of Detective Ashton-Kirk (Complete Series). John T. McIntyre
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Название: The Mysteries of Detective Ashton-Kirk (Complete Series)

Автор: John T. McIntyre

Издательство: Bookwire

Жанр: Языкознание

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isbn: 4064066309596

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СКАЧАТЬ the desk of the murdered man.

      "Here is a fragment cut from a ticket,"he said. "It is shaped like a keystone. I should like to know, if you can tell me, what train is taken out by the conductor who uses the keystone punch."

      The agent touched a signal and picked up the end of a tube.

      "The head ticket counter,"said he. "At once."Then he laid down the tube and continued to his visitors. "He is the man who can supply that sort of information instantly."

      The ticket counter was a heavy-set young man, in spectacles and with his hair much rumpled. He peered curiously at the strangers.

      "Does any conductor on our lines use a punch which cuts out a keystone?"inquired the General Passenger Agent.

      "Yes, Purvis,"replied the heavy young man. "Runs the Hammondsville local."

      "I am obliged to you both,"said Ashton-Kirk. "This little hint may be immensely valuable to me. And now,"to the agent, "if I could have a moment with Conductor Purvis, I would be more grateful to you than ever."

      "His train is out in the shed now,"said the ticket counter, looking at his watch. "Leaves in eight minutes."

      "I'm sorry that I can't have him up here for you,"said the passenger agent. "Just now that is impossible. But,"inquiringly, "couldn't you speak to him down on the platform?"

      "Of course,"replied Ashton-Kirk.

      He and Pendleton arose; the little man with the large white whiskers was thanked once more, as was the heavy young man with the rumpled hair.

      "You'll find the Hammondsville train at Gate E,"the latter informed them.

      Then the two shot down to the platform level and made their way toward Gate E.

      CHAPTER XI

       PENDLETON IS VASTLY ENLIGHTENED

       Table of Contents

      The Hammondsville local was taking on its passengers. It was a sooty train, made up of three coaches and a combination baggage and smoking car. The gateman pointed out its conductor, inside, and the two approached him.

      He was a spare, elderly man with a wrinkled, shrewd face, and a short, pointed manner of speech.

      "Oh, the General Passenger Agent sent you?"said he, examining them. "All right. What's wanted?"

      "Your train stops at a station called Cordova, does it not?"

      "It stops at every station on the run. Cordova's one of them."

      "There is an institution at Cordova, I believe?"

      "For deaf and dumb kids—yes."

      "Of course some of the people from there ride in and out with you at times."

      "I don't get many of the youngsters. But the folks that run the place often come to the city."

      "You are acquainted with them, of course. I mean in the way that local conductors come to be acquainted with their regular riders."

      Purvis grinned.

      "Say,"said he. "It's hard to get acquainted with some of them asylum people. There's only a couple of them that can talk!"

      "I see."Pendleton noted Ashton-Kirk's dark eyes fixed steadfastly upon the man's face as though he desired to read the remainder from his expression. "There is one of them,"continued the investigator, "whom perhaps you have noticed. He's rather a small man, and wears thick glasses. He also dresses very carefully, and he wears a silk hat."

      "Oh, yes,"said the conductor, "I know him. He goes in and out quite often. Very polite too. Always says good day with his fingers; if the train is crowded, he's a great little fellow for getting up and giving his seat to the ladies."

      "Have you ever heard his name?"

      "Yes. It's Locke. He's some kind of a teacher."

      Ashton-Kirk thanked the man, and with Pendleton walked through the gate. As they were descending the stairs to the street, Pendleton said:

      "And now he wears a silk hat, does he? But you have not made sure of the man. You forgot to inquire if Mr. Locke favored the German dramatists."

      For a moment Ashton-Kirk looked puzzled, then he burst into a laugh.

      "Ah,"said he, "you remember that."

      "Of course I remember it. How can I forget it? You go prancing about so like a conjurer that there's not a moment that I don't expect something. If you finish by dragging the murderer from your sleeve, I'll not be at all astonished. Your methods lead me to expect some such a finale."

      "To explain each step as I take it,"said the investigator, "would be much more difficult than the work itself. However the time has now arrived for me to enlighten you somewhat upon this point, at least. I am quite convinced that this man Locke played a leading part in the murder of Hume. He is in a manner definitely placed, and I can speak of him without fracturing any of my prejudices."

      They got into the car, and Ashton-Kirk continued to the chauffeur:

      "Christie Place."Then to Pendleton, he added as the machine started, "I want to make some inquiries at the house where Spatola lived; and in order to make the matter clearer, we'll just drop in at 478."

      As they proceeded along at a bounding pace, the investigator related to Pendleton what had passed between Edyth Vale and himself a few hours before. Pendleton drew a great breath of relief.

      "Of course I knew that her part in the matter was something like that,"he said, "but I'm glad to hear it, just the same."He looked at his friend for a moment and then continued: "But how did you know that Edyth heard a door close immediately after the pistol shot?"

      They had just drawn up in front of Hume's, and as Ashton-Kirk got out, he said:

      "If you had only used your eyes as we were going over the place,"said he, "you'd have no occasion to ask that question."

      There was a different policeman at the door; but fortunately he knew the investigator and they were allowed to enter at once. When about half way up the stairs, Ashton-Kirk said:

      "This, I think, is about the place where Miss Vale stopped when she saw the light-rays moving across the ceiling and wall of the hall. You get the first glimpse of those from this point. Remain here a moment and I'll try and reproduce what she heard—with the exception of the cry."

      Pendleton obediently paused upon the stairs; Ashton-Kirk went on up and disappeared. In a few moments there came a sharp, ringing report, and Pendleton, dashing up the stairs, saw his friend standing holding open the showroom door—the one with Hume's name painted upon it.

      "It's the bell,"said Ashton-Kirk, pointing to the gong at the top of the door frame. "When I examined it this morning I saw that it was screwed up too tight, and knew that it would make a sound much like a pistol shot to ears not accustomed to it."

      Pendleton СКАЧАТЬ