HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Clinton News Record, 1935-10-31, Page 6PAGE2=
THE CLINTON NEWS -RECORD'
The Clinton News -Record
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II. T. RANCE
Notary Public, Conveyancer.
]Financial, Real Estate and Fire In-
surance Agent. Representing 14 Fire
insurance Companies.
Division Court Office, Clinton
?rank Fingland, B.A., LL.B.
, 'Barrister, Solicitor, Notary Public
Successor to W. Brydone, K.C.
Sloan Block — Clinton, Ont.
DR. F. A. 'AXON
' Dentist
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Crown and plate work a specialty.
Phone 185, Clinton, Ont. 19-4-34.
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'west of Royal Bank)
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appointment.
FOOT CORRECTION
fay manipulation Sun -Ray Treatment
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Xing Street, Clinton. Phone 23w.
—Dec, 25-35.
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Directors:
Alex. Broadfoot, Seaforth, R. R.
'No. 3; James Sholdioe, Walton; WM.
Knox, Londesboro; . Geo. Leonhardt,
Bornholm, R. R. No. 1; John Pepper,
?Srucefieid; James Connolly, Gode-
vieh; Alexander McEwing, Blyth,_R.
R. No, 1; Thomas Moylan. Seaforth,
R. R. No. 5; Wim. R. Archibald, Sea -
forth, R. R. No. 4.
Agents: W. J. Yeo, R. R. No. 3,
'Clinton; John Murray, ,Seaforth;
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ARABIAN NATIONAL RAILWAYS
TIME TABLE
Trains will arrive at and depart from
Clinton as follows:
Buffalo and aodericli Div.
Going East, depart 7.08 a.m.
Going East, depart 3.00 pani
tGe hag West, depart 1110 ant,
`Going West, depart 9.58 p.m.
London, Huron & Bruce
,Going North, ar, 11.34. 1ve. 11.54 am,
Going South 3.08 p.m'.
.DOMINION i}OUSEWIVES
FAVOUR CANADIAN ONIONS
Housewives in the Dominion Re-
public are shedding more tears
over Canadian onions, according .to
'latest trade figures 58 tons being im,
mooted in 1934, ea against 1 1-2 tons
'in 1933. The UnitedStates, however,.
supplied the bulk of the 740 toils int-
'polted during 1934,, the reinaind'er
t coming from Spain, Chde and Egypt
n'eddition to Canada.
BLACK THREAD
By Frank King
Mr. Benjamin Madder was in a
happy mood as he trudged up ' the l
dark. drive' of The Beeches It was
not very 'often that he had the
chance to enjoy such a convival ev-
ening as this had been, Old Henry
Wilson was a hard master who set-
dome allowed his manservant any real.
freedom,
But to -day the visit of young Mas-`
ter George, old Henry's nhepew, had
come to an end, and Mr. Milson had
arranged to take him into Bradleigh
for a final lunch] before speeding him
on his vjay. There was therefore no
real need for Madder's, continued
presence at The Beauties, Greatly to
his surprise he had been given the
day •off.
Faintly, carried by the wind, the
chiming of • the Bradleigh parish
church clock came now to his ears
as he reached the top of the drive. A
quarter to ten, That was all right.
Ten was his official hour for return.
ing. He could- see a thin streak of
light showing througha chink be-
tween the curtains of the study, and
knew that old Henry Wilson must
be buried in his books as usual.
Mr, Madder unlocked the back,
door, passed through to the ,kitchen,
and took off his hat and.coat. Hardiy
had he hung themup when, with
startling suddenness ,a loud report
shattered the silence of the night.
It was a revolver shot, undoubted-
ly,, and it came from the direction
of the study. Madder hurried out of
the kitchen and along the short pas-
sage. As he neared the door of the
study he could hear that the tele-
phone was ringing inside.
Madder knocked nervously on the
door of the study. There was no re-
ply. The telephone went silent, then
started again. He thought he could
smell powder.
Something was seriously wrong!
He tried the door. It was locked, Ile
rushed to the front door of the
house and ran out. Perhaps the
french window of study might be
open.
It was not. It was securely fasten-
ed on the inside. But through that
chink in the curtains, which he had
noticed while coming up the drive,
Madder could see a foot on the
8oarthrug-!the foot of a man who
must be stretched out on the floor in
front of the fire,
Raising his own foot, Madder
thrust it against the glass of the
window, shattered it into fragments,
he unlatched the window, The next
moment he stood inside the room, at -
most suffocated by the intense heat,
getting ,down at the body of Henry
Wilson which lay in front of the
heaped.atpyfire.
There was a scorched blackened
hole in old Henry's. right temple, and
a revolver was clutched in his out -
flung hand, Still the telephone on
the bureau rang, Trembling, Madder
picked up the instrument.
"Hallo!" he managed to say.
"A call for you from Newcastle -
on -Tyne."
The long-distance humming sound-
ed in the receiver, and Madder knew
that the trunk call had teen connect-
ed. Almost immediately a, young
man's voice was audible.
"Is that you, uncle?? This is
George?"
"Master George! Oh—this is Mad-
der. There's something terrible hap-
pened, Mr. Wilson has—has killed.
-himself!"
"He's --what?"
"IIo's shot himself, Master George,
Just now. I heard him do it."
"Good lard, Madder! Is he—dead?"
eyes!,
"Heavens! He seemed . all right
when I left this afternoon, I suppose
.Cd better come back."
's`I suppose so, Master George. Had
I better tell the police?"
"Yes, of course you must! And
tell them I'll come back straight a-
way. It shouldn't take me mare than
about four hours. I'll be in Bradleigh
by two."
"Very well, Master ,,George,
ring up the police right naw."
Detective -sergeant Michael Mor-
lant was still in the police station
when the call came through. The
grizzled old Scotsman never liked
going off duty, He had no intcreet in
life beyond his work.
Meticulous Michael, some of his
less oespectufl colleagues called him.
Orice unleashed on a case, he would
not be satisfied until every point,
however unimportant, had been thor-
oughly iivvestigated.
As soon as the desk sergeant had
taken the message •Morlant rang up
Superintendent Goring.
"Word just come in, sir," he re.
ported, "that Illenry Wilson's shot
himself. Shall I go?"
"Old Henry at the Beeches,"
"Yes,sir."
Good heavens! What's he done
that for?"
"Dntnno, sir. Shall
"Yes, take the ease. You might
earl for care on your way, sergeant.",
"Very good, sir."
Morlant slammed,' gown the roe
ceiver and hurried out to the police
car. Wien five minutes hisbrakes
screeched .before the superintendent's
house. • Goring was waiting at the
grate; 'and slipped into the ear before
it stopped.
The Beeches stood in extensive
grounds about three miles out , of
Bradleigh. As Morlant swung the
car into the drive Madder was sil-
houetted in the light streaming front
ithe broken french window. ,
The manservant greeted the two
pcliee officials thankfully. He was
still visibly shaken,
"Who broke the window?" asked
Mariano,
"I did," explained Madder. "The
door was locked, you see."
Goring pushed past him into the
COMM.
"Gosh!" he said. "It'e hot in here."
He stood gazing down at the sprawl-
ed figure on the hearthrug, thein hie
eyes flickered to the key in the door.;
"Locked 'himself in, eh? You found
him, I suppose?" -
"Yes sir."
"You'd better tell us all about it."
Madder told his story s'itnply, fut-
iy, and accurately.
"What time would it .be when you
heard the shot?" asked Goring.
"As near as I could say, sir, it
would be ten o'clock." -
"And haw long would you he be-
fore breaking the window?" '
"Not more than five minutes at
the most"
"Waco is this George who telephon-
ed?"
"Mr. Wilson's nephew, sir. He's
been staying here with us for a few
days. Only left this afternoon on a
motoring holiday. So far as I know,
he's the only selative the master
had."
"He'd coming straight back, you
say?"
";That's good. Lucky he happened
otring up! It will save us a lot of
trouble. We might have had some
bother in finding him."
The two police officials busied
themselves with an examination of
the dead man, The cause of death
was very obvious, and ,they did not
waste much time over it.
"You've seen this revolver before,
I suppose?" asked Goring,
"Yes, sir," replied Madder. "The
master usually kept it upstairs in his
bed -room.
"I see." Ile turned to Morlant.
"Nothing more we can do, is there
sergeant?"
"I think, sir," began Meticulous
Michael cautiously, "that I'd like to
leek around a little and---"
"Gccd heavens, mon! What ever
for? It's a plain case of suicide isn't.
it?"
"We've no proof, sir," replied Mor-
lant, unmoved. "I'd like to find out
why he made such a big fire. And I
think it wouldn't be a bad idea if we
had the surgeon and finger -print
men along to—"
"Oh, all right!" Goring shrugged
irritably. "Have it your own way."
He picked up the telephone and gave
the necessary instructions. "I'm go-
ing home to bed. Perhaps• you'll re-
port to me in the morning, ver:
geant?"
"Very good, sir."
When the superintendent had gone,
Meticulous Mcihael sat down on a
chair, staring thoughtfully at the
sprawled figure on the hearthrug.
It was growing cooler in the room
now that the window was open. The
fire had almost died out, but the ex-
tent of the ashes showed that it had
been built half -way up the chimney.
Had Wilson been burning papers?
If so, that was a matter definitely
requiring investigation. Morlant
crossed' to the hearth and started
poking in the ashes,
Very patiently, very carefully, he
carried out the work, raking the de-
bris over until he was satisfied that
nothing could be found there which
offered any information. 13y the time
he had done this the police surgeon,
photographer and fingerprint expert
had arrived, • all ,rather annoyed et
having been called out on one of Me-
ticulous Michael's stunts,
The polite surgeon, brisk and e8!-
eient soon completed his task.
"Everything very clear and
etraightfarward here, sergeant," he
said, rising from his knees. "The bul-
let's lodged in his brain. If you want
it, we'll have to have an autopsy."
"You're satisfied that the wound
was self -Inflicted doctor?" asked
Morland.
"Why, of course. The barrel of the
revolver must have been almost
touching his head, Anything more
you want?"
"No, thanks, doctor. Sorry to have
troubled you."
The photographer and finger -print
expert completed their work and pre-
pared to ,leave,
"Only his finger -prints on the
gun," said the expert. "It's been
cleaned recently, evidently in readi-
ness for the job. One bullett gone.
That's about all the news there is
Are you coming back with us?"
"No, thanks," !said Morlant. "I'll
stay a bit longer."
When his colleagues had departed
by the Window he 'pottered about the
roma a furrow creasing his brow.
Perhaps it would,be as; hell to
make 'a through search ef: the place.
He .had no intentions *of •leaving,, un-
til the oldman's nevi tai • • erriYgd
from Newcastle -on -Tyne, ;lid, he•'diii-<
n't'Iike to be' idle. So he started at
one end of the room, poking into ev-
ery corner, assiduously searching for
anything that, might explain the fea•.
tures of the case that still worried
him.
IIe discovered nothing that seem
to offer any help, Near the book-
case, on the floor, she found a length
of black thread, almost invisible
against the dark carpet. There was
about a yard of it, and he studied
it with his usual care, Both ends
were frayed, 'showing that the thread
had been broken, not cut. That did
not seem to dead to anything. At-
taching no importance to it, he nev-
ertheless rolled it up and put it in,
his pocket.
But a little- later as' he was, ex-
amining the boolcs on the shelves, he
found another bit of thread. This
time there was only a couple : of
inches projecting between two of the
books. Very gingerly )m removed` the
Inuits and found that the thread ran
between them to a steel cashbox hid-
den away behind.
Rather curious, this. Why should
anyone fasten a length of thread to
a cashbox? Morlant lifted it out.
He noted with surprise that the
thread disappeared under the lid of
the box. He pulled on it very gent-
ly. It came from, the box, and he
saw that its end was charred.
The box was locked. He shook it,
and 'something reeltled airside. No
business of his, perhaps, to investi-
gate the contents of Henry Wilson,
cashbox. And yet it might contain
something which would explain why
the man had killed himself.
Morlant drew a picklock from his
pocket. He had no difficulty in op-
ening he •cashbox; but when the lid
was thrown back he stared into it in
puzzled silence.
There was nothing in the box but
a pair of tiny copper tubes and some
small fragments of what looked like
burned cardboard.' To one of these
tubes was attached the charred re-
mains of a piece of thread. But
what puzzled him more than any-
thing was the feet that the inside of
the box was blackened and scorched
as though it had been in a fire.
He continued his methodical search
of the room. It was well over an
hour before he. found the other end
of the piece of thread. And when he
did, he scratched his grey head, gaz-
ing at it in, bewilderment.
The telephone was an old-fashion-
ed type of wall instrument. 'It fixed
on the wall beside the fireplace.
From here a cord ran to the instru-
ment itself on the bureau. The usual
pair of bells were visible beneath the
box, and to the vibrator between
them was fixed a short length of the
black thread,
Apparently.the cashbox hidden in
the bookshelf had been joined by
thread to the telephone. It was very
puzzling. But as Morlant gazed from
one to the other a glint of excite-
ment lit up his grey eyes.
He crossed to the door and re-
moved the key from the lock. Ex-
amining it closely he noticed a bright
speak on the inside of the oval bow.
Smiling grimly to ' himself he
wrapped the key up in paper.
Then he rang up Superintendent
Goring.
George Wilson must have hurried
back from Newcastle -on -Tyne. He
reached the Beeches by half -past
one. Madder, still frightened, open-
ed the door for him.
"Have they moved him?"
"No. He's still in the study, just
as I found him."
"I'd better hake a look at him."
Madder led the way into the stud.
George Wilson stood looking down at
the dead body of his uncle. Has, face
wag sorrowful.
"Poor old chap," he murmured
"Ile was always very kind to me,
Leave me alone for a while, Madder,
will you?"
"Certainly, Master George."
As soon as the manservant had
gone, young George glanced at the
curtains covering the window, then
dropped on his knees beside the!
hearth. He looked at the telephone
bells and smiled. Rising to his feet,
he pulled some books from a shelf.
The smile abruptly left his face.
And as he stood staring into the
empty space behind the books, he
started suddenly. Two men had sil-
ently
emerged from behind the cur-
tains covering the window and were !,
watching him curiously.
"You're George Wilson?" asked !
one of them.
"I am" admitted young George. 1,
"But I' don't know—"
"I'm Superintendent Goring. This
is Detective -Sergeant Morlant, You
are under arrest for the murder ofl
your uncle, Henry Wilson."
The banks dropped from! young
George's hands,
"I—I'm what?" he faltered.
"No need to repeat it. You knew."
"But I--1--"
"Tell him, sergeant,"' snapped Gor-
ing. "And don't forget that I know
precious little about the business
yet. You've done this all on Your
own."
"It's really very simple, sir," said
Morlant deprecating]y. At least,it
was as soon as I realised what had
been '. in that cashbox. It explainer/
the big fire' and everything."
:'Weil, what, about the big 'fire??'
"That was • just to keep the body
warm, sir. Wasn't it, 4V'ilson?".=
."1—I doti't lino* what • you, are,
talking about" falteagd, Gerge:•
' "You're not ; veiiry lucid, ,,sergeant"•
grunted Goan "tlpa you start
at the beginning?"
"Very good, sir," iVilortlant: cough-
ed. "That takes us aback to this ale
ternoon, when Henry Wilson and his
nephew returned from lunch. The
young fellow had made up his mind'
to ]rill Ibis uncle, why did you do it,
Wil"
Georgeson?Wilson's face had blanched.
"I didn't do it, he muttered, "How
could i when I was in Newcastle?"
"Oh, old Henry was killed long be-
fore you went to Newcastle. 'That's
the whole point' of the business the
very clever alibi you manufactured:
for yourself,"
"Will you tell a straight story, ser-
geant?" said Gaming irritably.
"Sorry, sir," Maorint flushed. "As
3 was saying, Wilson here `shot
uncle some time this afternoon. He
was careful to wear gloves while
handling the revolver; and when the
old boy had fallen td the floor, he
closed the dead fingers round the
gun,
"You see, sir, ,he knew, the house-
hold habits very well, He knew Mad-
der had been gieeen a day off, would
return just before ten, but would net
disturb his master. He knew that he
had all the day in which to manu-
facture his alibi. It was a very clever
scheme. When his uncle was appar-
ently shot he intended to be a hun-
dred miles away --at Neweastle.
"You're a mining engineer, aren't
you, Wilson?"
He had turned abruptly to the
young man.
"Yes, but—"
"That explains how you under-
stood the uses of a detonator. It
must have been a pretty tricky job
fitting it up. Still, you Were an ex-
pert at that kind of thing, and you
Managed it—with a length of thread
attached to the vibrator of the tele-
phone so that the slightest movement
would explode the detonator in the
cashbox. You didn't think it likely
anyone would ring up before you did.
"That was all you had to do --ex,
cept to build up a huge fire se that
the dead body of your uncle would
not cool noticeably before ten o'clock.
You had little 'fear that anyone
would suspect murder in this ease.
It was unlikely that the black thread
would be noticed. In all probability
it would be broken—as tt actually
was -by some one••moving about the
room after the death was discovered.
In ,any case, you intended to be
back yourself to remove the detona-
tor,"
"You're talking the wildest rub-
bish!" cried George, "You don't ex-
pect anyone to believe—"
"Not just yet" said Morlant equ-
ably, "I haven't quite finished. It
was necessary of course, for your un-
cle to be locked in the room; but that
was easy. A' pencil pushed through
THURS., OCT. 31, 1935
BY " ETH ERITE
CANADIAN LEGION TO CO-OPERATE; WITH RADIO COMMISSION
IN PRESENTING SPECIAL HOUR-LONG ARMISTICE DAY
PROGRAM--WILLIS TO READ ANTI -WAR. POETRY ON
HALIFAX PROGRAM—OTHER RADIO NEWS
In a special hour-long broadcast
to be produced by the Canadian Rad-
io Commission with ,the oo-operation
of the Canadian Legion of the Brit-
ish Empire Service League, in com-
memoration of Armistice Day, na-
tional network listeners' will,. 1 on
November 10, from 9.00 to 10.00 p.nr.
EST, hear the voice of Brig. -General
Alex Ross, bDomanion President lof
the Legion, as well as military
bands, bugle calls, massed choirs,
and a dramatization. Eight cities
will contribute to this continent -
spanning program, which begins' at
Saint John, N.B., speeds westward to
Vancouver, and returns east to end
at Ottawa. Saint John will contri-
bute a five minute dramatization de-
picting the departure in 1915, of a
Canadian troop -ship for France,
there will be military music and
singing from the western studios.
Toronto will offer. a brief interlude
the bow of the key and fastened to
a bit of string pulled underneath the
door to the outside would turn the
lock after you had gone out."
With a quick movement Morlant
removed a silver-plated pencil front
the young man's waistcoat pocket.
"Yes," he murmured, banding it to
Goring. "You can see the dent in it
caused by the pressure of the key.
And on the key itself is a speck of
silver-plating which will match up
with this."
George Wilson .rade a sudden
movement. But Goring had been
watching him; and in a moment
handcuffs were snapped on the young
fellow's wrists.
"Come on, my lad!" said the su-
perintendent. "Are you accompany-
ing us, sergeant?"
Mordant shook his head,
"I'd like to see if I can find a copy
of old Henry's will, S.W. I have an
idea it will show sufficient motive
to make the case watertight."
"Of course, sergeant," Goring
grinned, "Carry on.,,
"Very good, sir,"
Meticulous Michael saluted and
watched the superintendent lead
George away.—London Answers,
with soldiers at Christie Street 1tos
pital, and Ottawa will present Brig.
General Ross, bugle calls and masse
singing,
Anti -War Poetry
Readings from the works of Scig-
fried Sassoon whose three volumes
of Terse are amongst the most vita
and unsparing volumes of the Grea,
War, wilt be featured on "Atlantis
Auguste Desearries the not-
catlecl to Armis
lice Day; is
broadcast ever
the national net-
work of the Can-
adian Radio
Conemession o.n
November 10, at
10.00 p.m,
Read by T.
Frank' Willis,
, whose unusual
voice has made
him famous a
"Canada's Poe.
of the Air," th
Poetry of Sas
scon will be in
corporated with
that of other an
ti -war write
and throughou,
'J. Frank Willis
the program a back -ground of •org-
aid violin music will predominate.
Sassoon's three volumes of vers:
which oppose bitterly the folly o
war and which are the most pacific
tie of any written, synthesize i
poetry what Barbusse's "Under Fir
on the Western Front" spread ou
in panoramic prose, or what Sher
iff's "Journey's End" depicted 1
stripped tragedy. The program i
designed to further tl)e .cause a
goodfellowship and peace on earth.
War -Time Songs
'Remember those old war-tim
songs that originated in London an
(Continued on page 3)
Friends of
the Family
•a
4b`
Look at the packages on your pantry and bathroom shelves, and
sen whata multitude of brand names you recognize. Some of them
have been familiar for years. You may have made the acquaintance
of others only a few weeks ago. But even these are not suspected
strangers. You have bought them confidently because they were
advertised. And it is the same with your sheets and towels, your
.shoes and clothes, your electric appliances, the car in your garage—
nearly everything you use.
Advertised products have a standing that commands respect.
They are not nameless, but vouched for by responsible firms. Tho
fact that they are advertised is in itself an indication that their
standards of quality are strictly maintained, that they represent
honest value.
As soience acid discovery go on, newly developed products are
constantly being advertised—ready to help you save money and im-
prove your standard of living. Every advertisement of such a pro.
duct you read in your. newspaper is a letter of introduction to a new
and possibly useful friend.
It will pay you to read the advertisements in this paper. By so
doing you will meet many choice products—worthy to become friends
of the family.
The Clinton ) owsB000rd
A FINE MEDIUM FOR ADVERTISING -BEAD ADS IN THIS
ISSUE.
PONE 4