The Photo-Play Journal (Jul 1919-Feb 1921)

16 Photo-Play Journal The next day came the city detectives, keen of eye, quick of wit, eager, and resourceful. Keene, afraid they would recognize him, kept out of their way as much as possible. In the waste-baskets, the detectives continued their hunt. They found, torn into tiny bits that they laboriously pieced together, the note that Pinky had written. "You're guilty," they told Pinky. But, even after the third degree bullying, Pinky stoutly maintained that she had done nothing. They let her alone for a while, and then, suddenly, with the guests assembled, they accused her in front of everybody, hoping to break her down. "There's the girl who did it," they cried. William confronted them. "Let her alone," he cried, "I can't bear to have an innocent person suffer for my crime. I killed Mr. Richley." The sudden hush that followed was broken by the huge laughter of Sheriff Wells. "That's a good one," he roared. Then, explaining, "The boy is so crazy about the girl he's willing to take the blame." "Why did you kill him?" he asked, turning to William. "I was jealous of him," cried William. "How did you kill him?" "Well," William hesitated, and was lost. His innocence was evident to everybody. Even Pinky laughed, but they attributed it to hysteria. Meanwhile Keene, with everybody else downstairs, made a rapid search of the rooms, took some jewels here, and some money there, and determined to make a getaway before the detectives examined him too closely. He came downstairs, suddenly switched out the light, pushed back the sliding panel and ran. Behind him he left an amazed crowd. That is, he left everybody but William. William had caught a glimpse of him starting for the panel, and followed his detective sense. He ran out of the house to the back entrance. As Keene came running out of the secret exit, William made a clean football tackle. Keene went down, his head striking the ground, and jarring his wig loose. The two rolled over and over. The detectives, hearing the sound of battle, came a-running. In a minute Keene was covered with a gun. They were about to slip the handcuffs on him when William cried out, "Let me do that !" What do -due care about We got our own careers They grinned. And in another moment, William Wells, detective extraordinary, had slipped a pair of handcuffs on his first prisoner. "Know who that is?" the detectives asked him. "That's the man who killed Richley," said William. "Maybe, but that's 'Philadelphia Baldy,' too. And there's a five thousand dollar reward out for him. You're a lucky kid. You ought to be a detective." "I am," said William. They had led the captive inside, having recovered the money and j ewelry, and Sheriff Wells was telling everybody how he had always known what a fine detective William would make, when there entered Mr. Richley! Dripping wet, looking shabby and needing a shave, but, nevertheless, Mr. Richley. Mrs. Richley gasped, and threw a pair of arms around him. "O, my dear," she cried, "God has answered my prayers. I'll be a good wife to you from now on. Can you ever forgive me ?" Mr. Richley grinned. "Surely," he said. And then, to the crowd, "Ask Pinky." The two went upstairs arm in arm. Pinky explained : "You see, there's an island in the middle of the lake, and I thought if Mr. Richley would hide there a while and make believe he was dead, Mrs. Richley would find out how much she really loved him. So we rowed out to the island the night before last, and I left Mr. Richley there with some food, and told him not to come back till the food ran out. I was going to row after him tomorrow, but I guess he ate more than I expected. So he just swam back." Everybody had a good laugh, including Keene. "I got enough to worry about," he said, as the detectives drove off with him, "without a murder charge." But Sheriff W'ells had the heartiest laugh of all. He was still laughing an hour later. "What's the matter?" asked William. "My son a murderer," gasped the Sheriff. "Think of your poor mother." That five thousand came in very handy for a wedding present for William and Pinky. But they were appreciative of Mr. Richley's thousand-dollar check, too. society people, you and me? to take care of, ain't we?"