The Cass County Sun (Linden, Tex.), Vol. 55, No. 20, Ed. 1 Tuesday, May 20, 1930 Page: 7 of 8
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THE CASS COUNTY SUN
The Mazaroff Mystery
By J. S. FLETCHER
W. N. U. Servlca
Illustrations by IRWIN MYERS
THE STORY
Mervyn Holt In nngapreil by n
man culling himself Mazaroff as
a traveling companion. -After a
short tour they put up at the
Woodcock Inn on Marrasdale
moor. They meet, catiually, Mrs.
Klphlnstone and Sheila Merohl-
non. Mararoft tells Holt they are
his wife nnd daughter and that
his real name Is Merchison. That
night Mazaroff falls to return to
the inn and his disappearance is
unexplained. Holt meets Sheila
and tells her of Mazaroff's disap-
pearance. Thoy bo to her cousin's
(Verner Courthopo) shooting hox
hoping to And somo word of Ma-
zaroff. There they meet Mr.
Armintrade and Doctor Eccle-
share. Holt Is questioned by Po-
lice Sergeant Manners and a re-
porter, Bownus. Mazaroff's mur-
dered body Is found. Crole, Ma-
raroff's lawyer, and Maythorne,
private detective, arrive. Valu-
able diamonds that Mazaroff usu-
ally carried are missing. Mrs.
Elphinstone scoffs at the idea
that Mazaroff is Merchison and
produces apparent proofs of his
death. A gun, stolen from Mus-
grave, Is found at the scene of
the murder. Evidence at the In-
quest proves Mazaroff was Mer-
chison, His will leaves all to
Holt.
CHAPTER IV—Continued
"You and the' (let-eased gentleman
were very close friends, I think?" he
said quietly. "Such close friends that
lie leaves you all his money—a vast
fortune!—and appoints you sole ex-
ecutor of his last will and testament—
and yet never even mentions the mat-
ter of his good intentions and your
extraordinary luck to you!" he said,
with what was almost a sneer. "You're
sure about your memory?"
"I'm sure of something else than
my memory!"' I retorted hotly. "I
know nothing whatever about Maza-
roff's will, I never knew he'd made
one. And I'm very sure that If liis
will is found, and I have to handle his
money, I shall just transfer It to whom
It belongs—to his widow and daugh-
ter."
• But Crole had got a hand on my
arm by that time, and was dragging
at me.
"Sit down. Holt, you d—d young
ass!" he muttered strenuously. "Sit
down!—leave this to me." He, too,
got on his legs—his voice sounded
suave and placatory as he turned to
the coroner.
"I think, sir, that this has scarcely
anything to do with the object of this
inquiry. I suggest that the Inquest
be adjourned until—"
"I'm about to do that," broke In the
coroner. "During the next few days,
more light will doubtless be thrown on
nil these matters." He turned to the
open-mouthed Jurymen. "This day
fortnight, gentlemen, and In the mean-
time—"
I paid no heed to the coroner's
platitudes about keeping open minds
—my own mind was in a whirl of in-
dignation against Mrs. Eiphlnstone's
solicitor. But when I turned in her
direction, I saw that Mrs. Elphin-
stone herself had crossed over from
her seat and was talking earnestly to
him. Presently he came up to me,
with a half-amused, half-ingratiating
smile.
"You're a bit hot-tempered, Mr.
Holt," he said. "Come, come!—I was
only speaking professionally, you
know—professional manners, after all,
are—"
"Confoundedly offensive, sir, If that's
a specimen of them!" I retorted.
"You were Inferring that—"
"Now, now, I wasn't inferring any-
thing !" he Interrupted soothingly. "I've
the interest of my client to consider.
I say again, it's au odd thing that
Mazaroff or Merchison didn't mention
his will to you. But the whole thing's
odd," he went on, looking round, "and
what I suggest is that we legal gentle-
men and the parties concerned just
have a talk, If we can find a place
to tfclk in."
I took them Into the private sitting
room which Mnxnroff and I had char-
tered and I still retained—the three
solicitors, Mr. and Mrs. Elphinstone,
and Sheila. The solicitors did most of
the talking that followed: it was all
about the chances of recovering the
missing will and the possibilities of
settling up the original draft—which
was wholly In Mazaroff's handwriting
and also bore his signature—if no re-
covery was made. The discussion
didn't Interest me: I resolved, after
what I had heard, that I should never
touch one penny of the dead man's
Money.
8«4denly Orole (met* the table at
■rammwiHrnn MMiwwmnanaaaB1 jiri.A > m— m
which ho was sitting. "Who mur-
dored tills man?" lie exclaimed, with
emphasis. "That's the question! Who
murdered him, nnd why? lie was a
man of mystery, evidently. And as
I've asked before—was he murdered
as Mazaroff, or as Merchison? I think
we may have to go back—perhaps a
long way. But It seems to me that the
murder must be cleared up as a start."
Just then Maythorne came in, clos-
ing the door behind liiui.
"Gathered anything?" asked Crole.
"Well—something," answered May-
thorne. "No secret about it, either.
Manners tells me that a certain man
named Parslave, Ralph Parslave, bet-
ter known as Ratty, who lives in a
cottage on the outskirts of Birnside,
has never been home since the day of
that fair. He's a man who lives by
himself and seems to be a sort of odd-
job man; occasional drover, game-
watcher, rat-catcher—"
"Everybody knows Ratty Parslave!"
interjected Sheila. "He's a local
celebrity."
"Just so," said Maythorne. "Well,
the police have ascertained that he
came in lierfy In company with other
men, drovers and so on, returning
from the fair, on the evening of the
"Who Murdertid This Man?" He Ex-
claimed, With Emphasis.
murder. He was one of the company
to which Mazaroff stood drinks and
cigars. Of course the police have al-
ready got a theory—they think that
Parslave, who, they say, has been in
what they call trouble before, saw
Mazaroff make a display—uncon-
sciously—of his money. They think
lie slipped out of the barroom, perhaps
with no very deiinite Intention; that
chancing to pass the open door of this
private room lie saw Musgrave's gun
hanging on those hooks, stepped In,
took it down and cleared off with It;
that he afterward followed Mazaroff
across the moor, shot him dead, and
robbed him; after that throwing the
gun away where it was found, and
clearing out with the proceeds of his
crime. That, I say, is the police
theory."
"And what do you think of It?"
asked Wetherby.
"It's a good theory—from a police-
man's point of view," said Maythorne.
"There may be a great deal In It. But
speaking for myself, I should like to
know more about the dead man's per-
sonal, private history, recent as well
as past. One matter In particular
needs clearing up. He told Mr. Holt
that he wanted to see some man here
at Marrasdale. Who was that man?
Did he see him?"
Nobody of course, could answer that
question, and the conference broke up.
We buried Mazaroff—or Merchison
—that afternoon, very quietly, and In
the evening Webster drove Crole,
(©, by Alfred A. Knopf, Inc.)
Maythorne and myself to Black GUI
Junction, where we caught the night
mail for London. For Maythorne was
unusually keen on seeing the ofllclals
at the Imperial Banking Corporation
of South Africa, and on finding out
all he could about Mazaroff in general,
and the receipt for the registered let-
ter Indorsed "BL. D. 1.," 1b particular.
At half past ten next morning we were
all three closeted with an important
personage of the bank, who, as soon
as he knew our business, became
keenly Interested about Mazaroff and
the circumstances of his death. I be-
lieved he was going to prove a valu-
able aid, but as soon as he saw the
receipt and its date he shook his head.
"Ah!" he said. "The mab who would
deal with Mazaroff's account and let-
ters, at the date of this receipt, is no
longer here. He was Mr. Armintrade
—he left us six months since, to be-
come manager of Courthope's."
I think it was greatly to my credit
that I controlled my features and the
rest of me when this sudden announce-
ment was made, neither staring nor
starting at the mention of Armin-
trade's name. Even Crole, old and
hardened man of law that he was,
could not refrain from a very slight
start of surprise. Maythorne, of
coursfe, showed no surprise; his face,
always cheerful and bright, betrayed
nothing.
"I know Courthope's—by reputa-
tion," he remarked. "Then—.you your-
self can't tell us anything very much
about Mazaroff?"
"I can tell you what I know," re-
plied our Informant, evidently quite
willing to talk. "We know Mazaroff
as a very wealthy man who had ex-
tensive dealings In trading affairs,
and latterly in diamonds and other
precious stones, in the East, and In
South Africa. He kept his principal
account at our Cape Town headquar-
ters, but for yeatafj|«s has had a small-
er account here as well. Lately, he
transferred his 1 Cape Town account
here; he also realized all his various
properties and paid the proceeds in
here, with a view to reinvestment in
English securities."
"Then you hold a considerable sum
of his?" suggested Crole. "We under-
stand that it is about eight hundred
thousand pounds?"
"About that, I dare say," assented
the manager, almost indifferently.
"Rather more, I fancy. Oh, .ves—a
wealthy man! And the will, you say,
is lost?"
"Missing temporarily, we hope,"
said Crole. "But Postlethwalte lias
the original draft, in Mazaroff's own
handwriting, and signed by Mazaroff.
Can you tell us unything of Mazaroff
—personally?"
"Next to nothing," answered the
manager. "He called here, just once,
some time after his arrival In Lon-
don. I saw him—in this very room.
He wasn't here live minutes. He said
he was just going for a tour in the
north of England, and would look in
on his return, a few weeks hence.
And—that's all."
A few minutes later we ail left.
And once outside the great door of
the bank, Croie gave Maythorne a
shiirp glance.
"Um!" he said. "Armintrade!"
"Just so!" said Maythorne, "Asyou
say—Armintrade!"
"A man might have reasons, when
a man he knows Is murdered under
his very nose, for not coming forward
to say that he knows him," observed
Crole. "But—I think, considering
everything, that if I'd been In Armin-
trade's position the other day I should
have said, 'I know this man—he's so-
and-so, and I'll tell you all I know
about him.' Eh?"
"I'll tell you what I think," May-
thorne suld. "Armintrade Is the man
whom Mazaroff wanted to see at Mar-
rasdale moor! Now then—did he
see him? Holt doesn't know—nobody
knows—at least, nobody that we've
heard of. But—Armintrade's the man!
Armintrade. as we've just heard, did all
Mazaroff's business at the bank we've
Changes Brought About in Food Associations
Nowhere else, save in these United
States, is there such a blend of food
resources and contrasting food tastes
of different racial strains, writes Mu-
riel Allen King in the New York Her-
ald Tribune. In pre-war, pre-prohl-
bition days, there was great pride In
local cookery. Certain dishes were In-
delibly associated with certain sec-
tions of the United States. One went
to New England to eat clam chowder,
brown bread and baked beans; to
Texas to get tamaleg; to Virginia to
luxuriate on spicy baked ham anil
crisp corn pone. There were, possi-
bly, tea rooms in Boston, Kansas City
or in Greenwich village, which nobody
knows today, that advertised "real
southern waffles," but the Greek lunch
counter had not quite erased the Idea
that certain dishes were appropriate
to certain feasts, that certain foods
were traditional mates and, compan-
ion to other fboUb.
just left—It was into Armintrade's
hands that the registered letter of
which I've got the receipt In my pocket
would fall. We must have a little talk
with Armintrade. But before that—"
he paused and waved his hand to a
passing taxlcab—"before that we're
going to examine Mazaroff's rooms
and belongings at the Hotel Cecil."
The three of us were presently in
the rooms wherein I had first met the
dead man. Maythorne made some dis-
coveries that were of use, if of no
great apparent moment. In an old
trunk he found some schoolbooks: on
the flyleaf of each was written the
name Andrew Merchison, with dates:
these he handed to Crole.
"There's no doubt whatever that he
was Merchison," said Crole, turning
these things over. "It's not likely that
he'd have kept these books else. These
will come In handy to show to Mrs.
Elphinstone. But I wish there were
more papers."
Maythorne, however, found some pa-
pers—In a letter case that lay in a
drawer, unlocked, in Mazaroff's writ-
ing table. These were letters—private
letters, all, with one exception, writ-
ten recently from Cape Town by a
Mr. Herman Kloop, who appeared to
be a close personal friend of Maza-
roff. There was next to nothing
about business affairs In them—they
were chiefly filled with gossip, club
gossip, personal details, and such mat-
ters: the sort of stuff exchanged by
old cronies. But they had this value,
observed Maythorne—he now had a
name and address in Cape Town to
which he could cable for certain in-
formation about the dead man.
The one letter not written by this
Mr. Herman Kloop was in the same
case that held the Kloop letters, but in
an envelope which bore on its flap
the impressed seal of the Imperial
Banking Corporation of South Africa,
with the address of the London
branch. Maythorne immediately drew
attention to the postmark and date:
the letter had been posted in London
on the previous 3rd of January.
"From Armintrade to Mazaroff,
without doubt," said Maythorne. Then
his face fell.
"Written in cipher!" he exclaimed.
The sheet of notepaper was almost
Ailed with writing. But to us it was
all so much unmeaning Jargon: we
could make neither head nor tail of It.
There were, however, certain things
on the sheet of paper which were
plain enough. The paper Itself was
the ordinary letter paper of the bank,
with its title and address Engraved at
the top of the front page. The letter
began in understandable English—
Dear Mr. Mazaroff. And it ended In
plaifi English—Yours faithfully, John
Armintrade. But all that went be-
tween, a hotch-potch of cabalistic
words and figures, was so much double
Dutch to all three of us.
"A cipher!" repeated Maythorne.
"Mazaroff, of course, would have a
key. In his pocketbook, no doubt,
and therefore stolen. Well!—it's more
evident than ever that we must have
a little conversation with Mr. John
Armintrade."
We left the hotel. Maythorne Im-
mediately hurried off to the nearest
telegraph office: he was keen on
cabling to Mr. Herman Kloop for some
highly necessary news of Mazaroff.
And as It was then well past noon,
Crole and I turned into Romano's for
some lunch.
"This is a queer business, Holt,"
snid Crole as we settled down in a
comfortable and quiet corner. "I
mean—what we've found out this
morning. You've seen this man Ar-
mintrade?"
"For a few minutes only," I replied.
"What sort is he?" he asked. "You'd
have thought that he'd have come for-
ward and said that he'd had business
dealings with Mazaroff. Instead—not
a word!" V
"He looks the sort of man who
would probably reply to that that
Mazaroff's death was no concern of
his," I suggested. "He gives one that
impression." ' ,
"Aye, well," remarked Crole, "we
shall just have to find out a few
things—leave It to Maythorne."
I left Crole after lunch and went
home to my rooms In .Termyn street.
I spent a quiet afternoon there, and
a quiet evening, and I wont to bed
early. And at nine o'clock next morn-
ing, In came Maythorne.
"Had a cable late last night from
Cape Town," ho announced. "Mr.
Herman Kloop Is In London—at the
First Avenue hotel. Come along-
well collect Crole, and lutervltw
Kloop, at oace."
(TO >■ CONTINUED). >
This Little Girl
Got Well Quick
"Just after her
third birthday, my
little daughter, Con-
nie, hud a serious
attack of intestinal
flu," says Airs. II. W.
Turnage, 217 Cad-
walder St., San An-
tonio, Texas. "It left
her very weak and pale, iter bow-
els wouldn't act right, she had bo
appetite and nothing agreed with her.
"Our physician told us to give her
some California Fig Syrup. It made
her pick up right away, and now she
Is as robust and happy as any child
in our neighborhood. I give Califor-
nia Fig Syrup full credit for her
wonderful condition. It is a great
thing for children."
Children like the rich, fruity taste
of California Fig Syrup, and you can
give it to them as often as they need
it, because it is purely vegetable.
For over 50 years leading physlclai*
liuve recommended it, and its ovf*{
whelming sales record of over f(iur
million bottles a year shows it gives
satisfaction. Nothing compares with
it as a gentle but certain laxative,
and it goes further than this. It
regulates the stomach and bq
and gives tone and strength to
organs so they continue to act nor-*^
inaily, of their own accord. \
There are many imitations of Cali-
fornia Fig Syrup, so look for the
name "California" on the carton to
be sure you get the genuine.
3<L IS
i \tsa
%
For Barbed WireCuts
Try HANFORD'S
Balsam of Myrrh
All dcalari tt, authorized to refund your nooer
for the first bottle if Dot inittd.
Fills Intermission
An intermezzo is a song or chorus
or a short burlesque, ballet, operetta
or the like given between* the acts
of a play or opera.
Good sewing machine needs
best oil, say repair men
If all housewives knew what repair
men know about sewing machines,
they wouldn't think "any kind of oil
will do." Three-fourths of all repairs
on sewing machines are due to neg-
lect or the wrong kind of oil.
There's only one oil good enough
for your machine—the best. Regard-
less of price, you can't find better oil
than 3-ln-One. It is a scientific blend
of high grade animal, mineral and
vegetable oils and" contains unique
properties not possessed by ordinary
oil. It cleans and protects as well as
lubricates. It is unsurpassed for sew-
ing muehines, vacuum cleaners, lawn
mowers, washers, electric fans, re-
frigerators, locks, hinges and general
household lubrication.
Don't endanger the life' of your
sewing machine and expensive house-
hold equipment with ordinary oil.
!5-in-One Oil costs only a trifle more
and will save you lots of money In
repairs. At good stores everywhere,
*ln 15c and 30c sizes. For your pro-
tection, look for the trade mark
"3-in-One" printed in Red on every
package.
Paper From Wheat Straws
Paper will be made from wheat and
linseed straws in a factory near Bo-
sarlo, Argentina.
TIRED WHEN
SHE GOT IIP
Strengthened by Lydia E.
Pinkham's Vegetable
Compound
St. Paul, Minn.—"I used to be r«s
tired when I got. up in the morning as
when 1 went fo
bed. 1 had faint-
ing spells and pal-
pitation. Of course
it was my age. I
read a Lydia, E.
I'inkham booklet
and started tak-
ing tlio Vegetables
Compound threo
times a day. I am
nowawcUworcau.
Three of my
neighbors know
what it did for me so tliey are taking it
too. I will write to any woman if Lydia.
10. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound
will help ber as it did me. I feel like a
young woman now and I thank you."—
Mrs. H. C. Hknhy, 280 Fuller Ave., St.
Paul, Minnesota.
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HAROLD 80MKRS. BROOKLYN. N. Y.
*1.air
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Banger, J. E. A. & Erwin, W. L. The Cass County Sun (Linden, Tex.), Vol. 55, No. 20, Ed. 1 Tuesday, May 20, 1930, newspaper, May 20, 1930; Linden, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth340858/m1/7/: accessed July 17, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Atlanta Public Library.