Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 194 by Maxwel l Grant

Author:Maxwel,l Grant
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf

CHAPTER XII. GALE SEEKS ADVICE

THREE days had passed. Days of headlines and radio flashes that maddened Gale Marden. The girl was living in the seclusion of her college club, where everyone was sympathetic, but her curiosity made her seek to learn what was happening in the outside world.

Everything seemed to center about Mokanna, the Veiled Prophet. The law was tearing his past apart and finding it identical with that of James Marden, who wasn't himself, but Kirk Lurbin. As a Jekyll and Hyde, it seemed that the so-called Marden was unique.

Investigation revealed the full facts of his fraud. Having escaped prison years ago, Lurbin had enlisted in the army, under an assumed name of course. His buddy had been the real James Marden, Gale's true uncle. Their company had been shot to pieces, the remnants captured.

Marden had come back from prison camp. But it wasn't the real Marden who had returned. It was Lurbin, masquerading under his buddy's name. He had learned enough of Marden's life to manipulate the fraud, and he had been clever enough to avoid the one man who could have exposed the swindle.

The one man in question was Marden's brother, Gale's father. The false brother had shown up at the funeral when Gale's father died, never before.

It was afternoon when Gale Marden stopped at Densholm's office, to discuss legal affairs. The crab-faced lawyer received the girl with a smile that was actually sympathetic. He noted that Gale was dressed in black, but he made no comment on the fact. Densholm usually let other people tell him anything that he wanted to know.

Gale began with a simple statement: "I have come to talk about my uncle."

"Your real uncle?" inquired Densholm. "Or the false one?"

"The man I knew as my uncle," returned Gale, firmly. "I prefer to still consider him as James Marden. Is it agreeable with you?"

"Quite. I, too, knew him as James Marden."

"Then perhaps you will agree with me," declared Gale, decisively, "when I maintain that he did not commit suicide. I believe that my uncle was murdered!"

Densholm's eyes went narrow.

"I testified against him." Gale's voice choked. "I believed him to be crooked. But I don't believe it any longer. He was safely established as James Marden.

"He didn't have to travel across the country to help a homeless niece who wasn't his own. But he did it" -

the girl was sobbing - "and it showed him to be a kindly man. He was trying to forget the past, and to build an honest future."

Densholm was used to handling women who cried in his office. His dry tone was capable of absorbing tears. In brittle fashion, he quoted facts to dispute Gale's theories. The girl's best arguments were battered down the moment that she presented them. She left the office somewhat in a daze, angry instead of tearful.

Densholm pressed a button. A drab-faced man arrived. The lawyer wrote some notes on a memo pad and handled the paper to the fellow.

"Keep an eye on Miss Marden, Clarry," said Densholm, in his dry tone.

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