Motion Picture Magazine (Aug 1918-Jan 1919)

super-picture which surpasses anything he has ever attempted before." "I presume he has a branch office in the cit \ ? ' "His Loudon representatives are Shrewsbury and company of 182 Gerrard Street." "Most of his time, no doubt, was divided between his agents and the management of Daly's. And — er — of course, yourself," suggested the superintendent. "Absolutely. He had many opportunities to mix with our society over here, but he was evidently not inclined to accept us, socially. Once I succeeded in getting him to attend a dinner part)' at the Ritz. It was given by Lady Battersby, who, as you know, is one of our most brilliant society leaders. But, he seemed quite bored and insisted that we pull ourselves away before things really got started. A lounging room at the club was far more interesting to him than the babble of women's tongues. He was typically a man's man." "A man like Mr. Gebhardt is usually moderate in his habits, isn't he?" said the superintendent thoughtfully. "He was not what you might call a pillar in the church However, he gave liberal donations to assist in religious work. 'Gebby' was not averse to swearing, smoking and drinking, but, he did all these things with moderation." "Do you recall whether he has met many people since he arrived in London?" "If he did he never mentioned them to me. Had he made any new friends I most certainly would have heard about them. He would have told me." "In other words, you enjoyed his most intimate confidence?" "He was with me almost continually : we were together ever)' evening." "How long had he been in London, this time?" "Just two weeks — today. He came on the Maltic and I went up to Southampton to meet him." "What do you think has happened to him?" "I am absolutely at a loss to understand his strange disappearance." "He has never gone away like this before?" "Not to my knowledge." "He had no enemies?" "Not a one. Arthur Gebhardt had a most charming personality, and one that gained for him the deepest admiration of his friends." "Was he in the habit of carrying much money around with him? ... A pretty good spender, was he?" "He usually had twenty-five or fifty pounds in. his pocket, but he was not reckless with it. Gebhardt was conservative in everything he did." ; "Strange case, isn't it?" mused the superintendent as he pushed a button on his desk. A moment later a uniformed policeman entered the room and paused in front of his superior. "Send Inspector Henry to me," he ordered as he glanced at the officer. "Very good, sir." And the policeman immediately withdrew. "This case, providing Mr. Gebhardt is really missing, is a most extraordinary one," continued the head of Scotland Yard as he swung around in his chair and gazed out upon the activities along the Victoria Embankment. "It starts off like the great Morton Mystery. Thus far, it's identically the same. Probably you recall that famous case?" he added as he turned to Hodges. "I dont believe I do," replied that individual with some show of curiosity. "It was about ten years ago. He was an American, too . . . Howard Morton . . . Came from New Orleans. A cotton broker, very wealthy and of excellent standing, both financially and" socially. He came over here to open a branch office in Threadneedle Street. But, hewas quite a spender; made lots of friends on this side and succeeded in putting considerable life into our night clubs. "Well, one evening he left the Cosmo Club with a fellow who was his intimate friend," and, bidding this chap good-night, he stepped into a taxi and was neyer seen again — alive. We searched the country for him, without obtaining the faintest clue as to what had happened to him. Upon investigation, I learnt that his firm was one of the biggest and most reliable in the South and that he had left everything in good order. He was a big, handsome man, of middle age, with apparentlv everything in the world to live for, and enjoy. His health was excellent and he seemed to have no worries of any sort preying on his mind. "Three months, almost to a day. after he disappeared, I read a small item in the Daily Mail one morning, stating that the body of a well-dressed American had been washed ashore at Nice, France. The description tallied so well with that of Morton that I decided to send a yardman over to see if he could identify the body. "It was Morton. He had evidently committed suicide. Everything he carried, of any value, was found on him. His wallet, containing a couple of hundred pounds, was found in bis pocket, and all his jewelry remained untouched. . . His watch was still in his vest pocket and a large diamond ring, worth about twelve hundred guineas, adorned one of his fingers. "From my experience, I have little doubt but that in cases like that of Morton, the victim becomes suddenly possessed of a peculiar desire to learn what is beyond. It is a strange, overwhelming curiosity which takes complete control of them. Unless they seek to overcome this period of morbid eagerness to learn what comes after life, they are liable to attempt to satisfy that curiosity. It is a condition which is familiar to all of us, and I question whether there is an individual in this world who has not been confronted with this desire, some time during his career. Sometimes it comes during the height of success, and, with others, during moments of depression. It is purely a mental condition and must be fought alone, We know but little about it because it is something no one confides to his friend." At this moment the door opened again and a tall, robust man of middle age entered the room. His hair was sprinkled with grey which accentuated his rather florid complexion. He stepped over to the desk and greeted the superintendent with a "Yes, sir," at the same time darting a swift, questioning glance at the visitor, with eyes of cold, steel grey. "This is Inspector Henry, who is in charge of the Bureau of Investigation," remarked the superintendent. Then, as he turned to his aide he added : "Inspector, I want you to give this case your personal attention." The superintendent then gave his assistant a brief outline of the case, the inspector listening attentively, his gaze shifting occasionally from his chief to the young man beside him. There was no doubt but that Hodges was undergoing a severe mental strain. It was evidenced in his countenance, with its lines, which the inspector was inclined to believe were not so much the result of business cares as dissipation. Men of the Brenon Hodges type were familiar to Inspector Henry. They were usually found along Piccadilly, Regent Street and Leicester Square. They frequented the various music halls and could be found strolling around the loges of the Empire and Alhambra, and j-et, they were quite as much at ease in the lounging rooms of the Claridge, or pouring tea at the Ritz. Londoners knew them as "bounders." In .the daytime they could be found in their offices along Threadneedle, Cockspur, Finsbury Pavement and other streets near the Royal Exchange. Being men with gentlemen's blood in .their veins, and always well equipped with a liberal suppl}' of sovereigns, the middle class referred to them as "swagger." When the city began to tuck itself in for the night they usually retired to the various night clubs and quite frequently journeyed home the next morning in their evening clothes, after leaving one of the Turkish baths in Jermyn Street. Immaculately dressed, in clothes which undoubtedly bore the label of some Bond Street tailor, the inspector concluded that Hodges belonged to this class. Everything about him, from his highly polished hat to his white spats, denoted extreme care and neatness and harmonized perfectly with his excellent manners. "This case bears a remarkable resemblance to the Morton Mystery," commented the superintendent thoughtfully as he finished his story. Then, as fie met the dark, twitching eyes of Hodges, he added : "But, it differs from that case in its most essential phase." He paused a moment, and then, as he noted the questioning looks on the faces of the two men, he continued: "Lloward Morton was afflicted with a temporary desire to pass beyond. Arthur Gebhardt offers a different study. It is my belief that we are quite safe in presuming he will not return."