Speaker 1: The Ubliette by Ellis Parker Butler. The discovery that Marilla
was the daughter of Jonas Meadobrook born Jones was a
great triumph for Philo Gubb, But while the Riverbank Eagle
made a great hurrah about it, Philo Gub was not
entirely happy over the matter. Having won a reward of
ten thousand dollars for discovering Sorilla and five hundred dollars
for recovering mister Meadowbrook's golf cup, mister Gubb might have
ventured to tell Marilla of his love for her, but
for three reasons. The first reason was that mister Gubb
was so bashful that it was impossible for him to
speak his love openly and immediately. If Marilla had returned
to Riverbank with her father, mister Gubb would have courted
her by degrees. Or if Marilla had weighed only two
hundred pounds, mister Gubb might have had the bravery to
propose to her instantly, But she weighed one thousand pounds,
and it required five times the bravery to propose to
a thousand pounds than was required to propose to two
hundred pounds. The second reason was that mister Dorgan, the
manager of the side show, would not release Sorilla from
her contract. She's a beauty of a fat lady, said
mister Dorgan, and I've got a five year contract with her,
and I'm going to hold her to it. Mister Meadowbrook
and mister gubb would have been quite hopeless when mister
Dorgan said this if Marilla had not taken them to
one side. Listen, dearies, she said, He's a mean old brute.
But don't you fret. I got a hunch how to
make him cancel my contract in a perfectly refined and
lady like manner. Right now, I start in banton and
diet in in the scientifickest manner, and the way I
can lose three or four hundred pounds when I set
out to do it is something grand. It won't be
no time at all until I'm thin and wisp like,
and mister Dorgan will be glad to get rid of me.
This information greatly cheered mister Gubb. Well. He admired Sorilla
just as she was. A rapid mental calculation assured him
that she would still be quite plump at seven hundred pounds,
and he knew he could love seven tenths of Sorilla
more than he could love seven tenths of any other
lady in the world. The third reason had to do
with the ten thousand dollars reward. When mister Gubb and
mister Meadowbrook were proceeding homeward on the train, mister Meadowbrook
brought up the subject of the reward again. I'm going
to pay you that ten thousand dollars Gub, he said,
but I'm going to pay it so it will be
worth a lot more than ten thousand dollars to you.
You are very overly kind, said mister Gubb. It's because
I know you are fond of Sorilla, said Meadowbrook. Mister
Gubb blushed. So I ain't going to give you ten
thousand dollars cash, said mister Meadowbrook. I'm going to do
a lot better by you than that. I'm going to
give you gold mine stock. The only trouble gold mine
stock sounds quite elegantly nice, said mister Gubb. The only trouble,
said mister Meadowbrook, is that the gold mine stock I
want to give you is in a block of twenty
five thousand dollars it's nice stock. It's as neatly engraved
as any stock I ever saw, and it is genuine
common stock in the Utterly Hopeless gold Mine Company. The
name sounds sort of unhopeful, ventured mister Gubb timidly. That
shows you don't know anything about gold mines, said mister
Meadowbrook cheerfully. The reason I the reason the miners gave
it that name, is because this mine lies right between
two of the best gold mines in Minnesota. One of
them is the utterly good gold Mine and the other
is the far from Hopeless. So when I so, when
the miners named this mine, they took part of the
names of the two others and called this one on
the utterly hopeless. That's the way I the way it's
always done. It's very cleverly bright, said mister Gubb. It's
an old trick, I should say, an old and approved method,
said mister Meadowbrook. So what I'm going to do, mister Gubb,
is let you in on the ground floor of this mine.
It's a chance I wouldn't offer to everybody. This mine
hasn't paid out all its money and dividends. I tell
you as an actual fact, mister Gubb that so far
it hasn't paid out a cent in dividends, not even
to the preferred stock. No, sir, And it ain't one
of those minds that has been mined until all the
gold is mined out of it. No, sir, Not an
ounce of gold has ever been taken out of the
utterly hopeless mind, not an ounce. It is all there yet,
exclaimed mister Gubb. All there ever was, said mister Meadowbrook. Yes, sir,
if you want me to, I'll give you a handwritten
guarantee that the utterly hopeless mind has never paid us
and dividends, and that not an ounce of gold has
ever been taken out of the mind. That shows you
I'm square about this. So what I'm going to do,
he said, impressively, is turn over to you a block
of twenty five thousand dollars worth of utterly hopeless gold
mine stock and apply the ten thousand dollars I owe
you as part of the purchase price. All you need
to do then is pay me the other fifteen thousand
dollars as rapidly as you can. That's very kindly generous
of you, said mister Gubb gratefully, and that isn't all,
said mister Meadobrook. I own every single share of the
stock of that mine, mister Gubb, And as soon as
you get the fifteen thousand dollars paid up, I'll advance
the price of that stock one hundred percent. Yes, sir,
I'll double the price of the stock, and what you
own will be worth fifty thousand dollars. There were tears
in Philo Gubb's eyes as he grasped mister Meadowbrook's hand.
And all I ask, said Meaderbrook, is that you hustle
up and pay that fifteen thousand dollars as quickly as
you can. So that, he added, you'll be worth fifty
thousand dollars all the sooner. Upon reaching Riverbank, mister Meadowbrook
took mister Gubb to his home and turned over to
him the stock in the utterly hopeless mind. And here,
said mister Meadowbrook, is a receipt for ten thousand, five
hundred dollars. And you can give me back that five
hundred I paid you for recovering my golf cup. That's
to show you everything is fair and square when you
deal with me. Now you owe me only fourteen thousand
five hundred dollars. Well, mister Gubb was handing the five
hundred dollars back to mister Meadowbrook. The colored butler entered
with a telegram. Mister Meadowbrook tore it open hastily. Good
news already, he said, and handed it to mister Gubb.
It was from Syrilla, and said, be brave have lost
four ounces already. Kind regards and best love to mister Gubb.
With only partial satisfaction, mister Gubb left mister Meadowbrook and
proceeded downtown. He now had a double incentive for seeking
the rewards that fall to detectives, for he had Cyrilla
to win and the utterly hopeless gold minestock to pay for.
He started for the pie wagon, for he was hungry.
But on the way, certain suspicious actions of Joe Henry,
the liveryman, who had twice beaten him up while he
was working on the dynamiter case, stopped him. And it
was much later when he entered the pie wagon. As
Philo Gubb entered, Billy Gets sat on one of the
stools and stirred his coffee. He held a dime novel
with his other hand, reading but pie wagon Pete kept
an eye on him. He knew Billy Gets and his
practical jokes. If unwatched for a moment, the young whipper
snapper might empty the salt into the sugar bowl, or
play some other prank that came under his idea of fun.
Billy Getz was a good example of the spoiled only son.
He went in for all the vice that there was
in town, and to occupy his spare time, he planned
practical jokes. He was thirty years old, rather bald, had
a pale and leathery skin and a perternaturally serious expression.
In his pranks. He was aided by the group of
young poker playing cigarette smoking fellows known as the Kidders.
Billy Gets, as he read the last line of the
thrilling Tale of the Pale Avengers, tucked the book in
his pocket and looked up and saw Philo Gubb. The
hawk eyes of Billy Getz sparkled, Hello, detective, he cried,
sit down and have something. You're just the man I've
been looking for. Was asking Pete about you not a
minute ago, wasn't I Pete pie Wagon. Pete nodded, yes, Sir,
said Billy Gets eagerly I've got something right in your line,
something big, mighty big, and say, detective, have you ever
read The Pale Avengers. I ain't had that pleasure, mister Getz,
said Filo Gubb, straddling a stool. What's the matter, You're
out of breath, said Pie Wagon. I've been running, said
Filo Gubb. I had to run a little. Detecatives have
to run at times occasionally, you bet they do, said
Billy Gets, earnestly. You ain't been after the dynamiters, have you.
I am from time to time working upon that case,
said Filo Gubb with dignity. Well you be careful, you
be mighty careful. We can't afford to lose a man
like you, said Billy Gets. You can't be too careful.
Got any of the ghouls yet? Not yet, said Filo
Gubb stiffly. It's a difficult case for one that's just
graduated out of a detecative school. It's like less than nine,
says I. Got to proceed cautiously when working in the dark,
or they'll get you before you get them, said Billy Gets.
Like in the Pale Avengers here, I want you to
read this book. It'll teach you some things you don't
know about crooks. Maybe, thank you, said Filo Gubb. Taking
the dime novel. Anything that can help me in my
detecative career is real welcome. I'll read it, mister Gatz,
and look out, he shouted, and in one leap was
over the counter and crouching behind it. Billy Getz turned
toward the door, where a short, red faced man was
standing with a pine slab held in his hand. Intense
anger glittered in his eyes, and he darted to the counter, and,
leaning over, brought the slab down on Filo Gubb's back
with a resounding whack. Here here, none of that's stuffing here, Joe,
cried pie Wagon Pete, grasping the intruder's arm. I'll kill him,
That's what I'll do, shouted the intruder, snooping around my
place and following me up and down all the time.
I told him I wasn't going to have him dog
in me and pesterin me. I beat him up twice,
and now I'm going to give him the worst licking
he ever had come out of there. You half baked
ostrich you Now you stop that, said pie Wagon Pete sternly.
You're going to be sorry if you beat him up.
He don't mean no harm. He's just foolish. He don't
know no better. All you got to do is explain
it to him, right, explain, said Joe Henry. I'd look nice,
explainin anything, wouldn't I hand him over here? Pete, now listen,
shouted Pie Wagon Pete angrily. You ain't everything. I'm your partner,
ain't I? Well, you let me fix this, He winked
at Joe Henry. You let me explain to mister Gubb.
And if he ain't satisfied, why it's all right. For
a moment, Joe Henry studied Pie Wagon's face, and then
he put down the slat all right, you explain, he said, ungraciously,
and Filo Gubb raised his white face above the counter.
Upon the passage of the state prohibitory law, every saloon
in Riverbank had been closed, and there had been growlings
from the balloon Element. Five of the leading prohibitionists had
received threatening letters, and a few nights later, the houses
of four of the five were blown up. Kegs of
powder had been placed in the cellar windows of each
of the four houses, wrecking them, and the fifth house
was saved only because the fuse there was damp. Luckily
no one was killed, but that was not the fault
of the dynamiters, as everyone called them. The town and
state immediately offered a reward of five thousand dollars for
the arrest and conviction of the dynamiters, and detectives flocked
to Riverbank. Real detectives came to try for the Nobel prize,
amateur detectives came in hoardes citizens who were not detectives
at all tried their hands at the work. For the
first few days, rumors of the immediate capture of the
ghouls were flying everywhere. But day followed day, and week
followed week, and no one was incarcerated. The citizen detectives
went back to their ordinary occupations, the amateur detectives went home,
The real detectives were called off on other and more
promising jobs, and soon the field was left clear for
Philo Gubb, not that he made much progress. Each night,
he hid himself in the dark doorway of Wilcox Hall,
waiting to pick up lesson for rule for some suspicious
looking person, and having picked him up, he proceeded to
trail and shadow him lesson four rules four to seventeen,
six times twice by Joe Henry. He was well beaten
by those he followed. It became such a nuisance to
be followed by Philo Gubb in false mustache or whiskers,
that it was a public relief when Billy Getz and
other young fellows took it upon themselves the duty of
being shadowed. With hats pulled over their eyes and coat
collars turned up, they would pass the dark doorway of
Wilcox Hall, let themselves be picked up, and then lead
poor Detective Gub across rubbish. She encumbered vacant lots, over
mud flats or among dark lumber piles, only to give
him the slip with infinite ease when they tired of
the game. But Philo Gubb was back the next night
waiting in this shadow of the doorway of Wilcox Hall.
He did not progress very rapidly toward the goal of
the reward, but he counted it all good practice. But
being beaten twice in succession by Joe Henry aroused his suspicion.
Joe Henry ran a small carting business. He had three
teams and three dres and a small stable on Locust
Street on the alley corner. He was a great friend
of pie Wagon Pete and he ate at the pie Wagon.
Philo Gubb, after leaving mister Meadowbrook, had not intentionally picked
up Joe Henry on his way to the pie Wagon.
It had been necessary for him to pass the alley
opposite Joe Henry's stable, and his detective instinct told him
to hide himself behind a manure bin in the alley
and watch the stable. In the warm June dusk. He
had crouched there, watching and waiting. Mister Gubb could see
into the stable, but there was not much to see.
The stable boy sat at the door, his chair tipped
back until a few minutes after eleven, when one of
Joe Henry's drays drove up with a load of baled hay.
Philo Gubb heard the voices of the men as they
hoisted the hay to the hay loft, and he saw
Joe Henry helping with the hoisting rope. The hay was
wood soaked. Wood dripped from it on to the floor
of the stable, but nothing exciting occurred, and Philo Gub
was about to consider this a dull evening's work. When
Joe Henry appeared in the doorway, a pitchfork in one
hand and the slab of pine in the other. He
looked up and down the street, and then, with surprising agility,
sprang across the street towards where Philo gub lay hid.
With a wild cry. Philo gub fled. The pitchfork clattered
at his feet but missed him, and he had every
advantage of long legs and speed. His heels clattered on
the alley pave, and Joe Henry's clattered farther and farther
behind at each leap of the correspondence School detective. All right,
you explain, said Joe Henry, sullenly. Now you ain't to
breathe a word of this cross your heart. Hope to die,
Filo Cub nor you neither, Billy, said pie Wagon Pete. Listen,
Me and Joe Henry ain't what we let on to be.
That's why we don't want to be followed. We're detectives,
regular detectives from Chicago, and were hired by the Law
and Order League to run down them Guls. We're right
close on to them, now, ain't we. Joe and That's
why we don't want to have no one bothering us.
You wouldn't want no one's shadowing you when you was
on the trail, would you, Gubby? No, I don't feel
like I would, admitted Philo Gubb. That's right, said pie
Wagon Pete approvingly. And when these here dynamite ghouls is
the kind of murderers they is, and me and Joe
is expecting to be murdered by them any minute. It
makes Joe nervous to be followed and spied on, don't it, Joe?
You bet? Said Joe. I'm liable to turn and moller
up anybody I see sneakin' up on me. I can't
take chances. So you won't interfere with Joe in the
pursuit of his duty no more, will you, Gubby, said
pie Wagon Pete. I don't aim to interfere with nobody, Peter,
said Filo Gubb. I just want to pursue my own
duty as I see it. I won't follow mister Henry
no more if he don't like it. But I got
a duty to do. And a full graduate of the
Rising Sun Detecative Agency Correspondence School of Detecting, I got
to do my level best to catch them dynamiters myself.
Joe Henry frowned, and pie Wagon Pete shook his head.
If you'll take my advice, Gubby, he said, you'll drop
that case right here. And now you don't know what
dangerous characters them ghouls are. If they start to get you.
You want to read that book the pail Avengers I
just gave you, said Billy Getz, and then you'll know more. Well.
I won't interfere with you, mister Henry, said Filo Gubb,
but I'll do my duty as I see it. Fear
don't frighten me. The first words in less than one
is these the detecative must be a man devoid of fear.
I can't go back on that. If them ghules want
to kill me, I can't object. Detecting is a dangerous employment,
and I know it. He went out and closed the
door there, said Pye Wagon Pete. Ain't that better than
beatin him up? Maybe, said Joe Henry grudgingly. Chances are
he's such a dummy he'll go right ahead followin me
and needs a good scare thrown into him. Billy gets
slid from his stool and ran his hands deep into
his pockets, jingling a few coins and a bunch of keys.
Want me to scare him, he asked, pleasantly. Say you
can do it too, said Joe Henry eagerly. You're the
feller that can kid him to death. Go ahead, if
you do, I'll give you a case of six star.
Ain't that so? Pete absolutely said, Pye wagon, that's a bet,
said Billy Getz, pleasantly. Leave it to the kidder's Filo.
Gubb went straight to his room at the Widow Murphy's, and,
having taken off his shoes and coat, leaned back in
his chair with his feet on the bed, and opened
the Pail Avengers. He had never before read a dime novel,
and this opened a new world to him. He read breathlessly.
The style of the story was somewhat like this. The
picture on the wall swung aside, and Detective Brown stared
into the muzzles of two revolvers and the sharp eyes
of the youngest of the pail Avengers. A thrill of
horror swept through the detective. He felt his doom was
at hand, but he did not cringe. Your time has come,
said Avenger. Be not too sure, said Detective Brown, haughtily,
Are you ready to die? Ever? Ready? The detective extended
his hand toward the table on which his revolver lay.
A cruel laugh greeted him. It was the last human
voice he was to hear. As if by magic, the
floor under his feet gave way, down, down, down, a
thousand feet. He was precipitated. He tried to grasp the
well like walls of masonry, but in vain nothing could
stay him. As he plunged into the deep water of
the ubliet, a fiendish laugh echoed in his ears. The
pail Avengers had destroyed one more of their adversaries. Until
he read this thrilling tale, Philo Gubb had not guessed
the fiendishness of malefactors when brought to Bay, and yet
here it was in black and white. The ubliet, a dark,
dank dungeon hidden beneath the ground, was a favorite method
of killing detectives. It seemed. Generally speaking, the ubliet seemed
to be the prevailing fashion and vengeful murder. Sometimes the
bed sank into the ubliet, Sometimes the floor gave way
and cast the victim into the ubliet, and sometimes the
whole room sank slowly into the ubliet, but death for
the victim always lurked in the pit. Before getting into bed,
Philo Gub examined the walls and the floor and the
ceiling of his room. They seemed safe and secure, but
twice during the night he awoke with a cry, imagining
himself sinking through the floor. Three nights later, as Philo
Gub stood in the dark doorway of the Wilcox Building
waiting to pick up any suspicious character, Billy Getz slipped
in beside him and drew him hastily to the back
of the entry. Hush, not a word, He whispered. Did
you see a man in the window across the street,
the third window on the top floor, No, whispered Philo
Gub was was there one with a rifle? Full? Whispered
Billy gets ready to pick you off. Come. It is
suicide for you to try to go out the front way.
Now follow me. I have news for you. Step quietly.
He led the paper hanger through the back corridor to
the open air and up the outside back stairs to
the third floor and into the building. He tapped lightly
on a door, and it was opened. The merest crack.
Friends whispered billy gets, and the door opened wide and
admitted them. The room was the club room of the kidders,
where they gathered night after night to play cards and
drink illicit whisky. Green shades over which were hung heavy
curtains protected the windows. A large round table stood in
the middle of the floor under the gas lights. A
couch was in one corner of the room, and these
with the chairs, and a formless heap in a far corner,
over which a couch cover was thrown, constituted all the
furniture except for the iron cuspidors. Here the young fellows
came for their sport, feeling safe from intrusion. For the
possession of whisky was against the law. There was a
fine of five hundred dollars one half to the informer
for the misdemeanor of having whisky in one's possession, But
the kidders had no fear. They knew each other for
the moment. The cards were put away and the couch
cover hid the four cases of six star that represented
the club's stock of liquor. The five young men already
in the room were sitting around the table sit down.
Detective Gub said, Billy Gets here. We are safe here,
we may talk freely, and we have something big to
talk to night. Filo Gubb moved a chair to the table.
He had to push one of the cuspidors aside to
make room, and as he pushed it with his foot,
he saw an oblong of paper lying in it among
the sand and cigar stubs. It was a six star
whisky label. He turned his head from it with his
bird like twist of the neck and let his eyes
rest on Billy Gets. We know who dynamited those houses,
said Billy Getz. Suddenly, do you know Jack Harburger? No,
said Filo Gubb. I don't know him. Well we do,
said Billy Getz. He's the slickest ever. He was the
boss of the gang. Read this. He slid a sheet
of notepaper across to Filo Gubb, and the detective read
it slowly. Billy send me five hundred dollars quick. I've
got to get away from here. J h. And we
made him our friend, said Billy Gets resentfully. Why he
was here the night of the dynamiting, wasn't he? Boys?
He sure was, said the kidders. Now he's nothing to us,
said Billy Getz. Now what do you say, Detective Gub.
If we fix it so you can grab him, will
you split the reward with us, half for you and
half for me, asked Filo Gubb, his eyes as big
as pokerchips. Three thousand for you and two for us
was what we figured was fair, said Billy Katz. You
ought to have the most you put in your experience
and your education and detective work, and that ought to
be worth something, admitted Philo Gubb. So it was agreed.
They explained to Philo Gubb that Jack Harburger was the
son of Old Harburger of the Harburger House at Durlingport,
and that they could count on the clerk of that
hotel to help them. Billy Getz would go up and
get things ready, and the next day Filo Gubb would
appear at the hotel in disguise, of course, and do
his part. The clerk would give him a room next
to Jack Harburger's room and see that there was a
hidden opening in the partition, and Billy gets pretending he
was bringing the money, would ring a full confession from
Jack Harburger. Then Filo Gubb need only step into the
room and snap the handcuffs on Jack Harburger and collect
the reward. They shook hands all around finally, and Billy
Getz went to the window to see that no ghoul
was lurking in the street ready to murder Philo Gub
when he went out. As he turned away from the window,
the toe of his shoe caught in the fringe of
the couch cover and dragged it partially from the odd
shaped pile in the corner. With a quick sweep of
his hand, Billy Getz replaced the cover, but not before
Philo Gubb had seen the necks of a full case
of bottles and had caught the glint of the label
on one of them, bearing these six silver stars like
that in the cuspidoor. Billy Getz cast a quick glance
at the correspondent school detective's face, but Filo Gubb, his
head well back on his stiff neck, was already gazing
at the door. Two days later, Philo Gubb, with his
telescope valise in his hand, boarded the morning train for Durlingport.
The river was on one of its rampages, and the
water came close to the tracks here and there on
the way to Durlingport, the water was over the tracks,
and in many places the wagon road which followed the
railway was completely swamped, and the passing vehicles sank in
the muddy water to their hubs. The year is still
known as the year of the Big Flood. In Riverbank,
the wooter had flooded the front street cellars, and in
Durlingport the sewers had backed up, flooding the entire lower
part of town. When the train reached Durlingport, Philo Gubb,
with his telescope volice, which contained his twelve correspondence school lessons,
the pail avengers, a pair of handcuffs, his revolver, and
three extra disguises, walked toward the Harburger House. He was
already thoroughly disguised, wearing a coal black beard and a
red mustache and an iron gray wig with long hair.
Luckily he passed no one with that disguise. He would
have drawn an immense crowd, nothing like it had ever
been seen on the streets of Durlingport, or elsewhere for
that matter. A full block away, Philo Gubb saw the
sign of the hotel, and he immediately became cautious as
a detective should he crossed the street and observed the exits.
There was a main entrance on the corner, a lady's
entrance at the side, and an entrance to what had
once been the bar room. From the fire escape, one
could drop to the street without great injury. Filo Gubb
noted all these and then walked to the alley. There
were two doors opening on the alley, one a cook's door,
and the other evidently leading to the cellar. At the
latter a drey stood, and as Filo Gub paused there,
two men came from this door and laid a bale
of hay on the dray, pushing it forward carefully. They
did not toss it carelessly on to the dray, but
slid it onto the dray, and the hay was wet. Moreover,
the two men were two of Joe Henry's men, and
that was odd. It was odd that Joe Henry should
send a dray the full thirty miles to Durlingport to
get a load of wet hay. When he could get
all the dry hay he won it in Riverbank, but
it did not impress Philo Gub. He hurried to the
main entrance of the hotel and entered the lobby of
the Harburger House was large and gloomy in its old
fashioned black walnut woodwork, except for one man sitting at
a desk by the window and writing industriously, and the
clerk behind the counter. The lobby was untenanted. To the left,
a huge stairway led to the gloom above, for the
hotel boasted no elevator except the huge baggage lift, which
had been put in in the palmy days of the
house when the Great River packets were still a business factor.
Philo Gub walked across the lobby to the clerk's desk.
The industrious penman by the window glanced over his shoulder.
He looked more like a hotel clerk than like a
traveling salesman, but Philo Gub gave this no thought. The
clerk behind the desk put his fingers on his lips.
Sh He whispered, are you, Detective Gub good, I've been
expecting you. Have you a gun in my telescope case?
Whispered Philo Gub, take this one, said the clerk, handing
the paperhanger. Detective, a glittering revolver be careful. Come, I'll
show you the room. He came from behind the desk
and picked up Philo Gubb's telescope valise and led the
way up the dingy stairway. Luckily for Billy gets his
great practical joke. Filo Gubb had never seen Jack Harburger,
or he would have recognized him in the plump little
man carrying his telescope valise up three flights of dark stairs.
Jack Harburger led Filo Gub and at the landing of
the fourth floor, he stopped. You were taking a risk,
a big risk. Coming undisguised, he said. But I am disguised,
said Filo Gub. These here is false whiskers and hair. What,
exclaimed Jack Harburger. Wonderful work. Splendid make up, Detective. You
fooled me with it, and I was on my guard.
You'll do bent down like an old man. That's it now. Listen,
I have cut a hole through the wall from your
room into Jack's. You can hear every word he speaks.
Have you a pencil and paper, good a jot down
every word you hear, and don't make a sound if
you are discovered. Well, they're a desperate gang. Come, he
led the way through a long, dark corridor that turned
and twisted At the extreme end. He stopped, put down
the telescope, folie, and drew a key from his pocket.
That's Jack's room, he breathed softly. And you go in here. Sorry,
it isn't a better room. We had to use it.
And you be here long anyway. He opened the door.
It was a large door that swung outward, and it
occupied one half of one side of the room. The
floor of the room was carpeted and the walls were paper,
as was the ceiling. There was no window, but an
electric light burned in the center of the ceiling. Across
the far side of the room stood a narrow iron
bed with a small bureau beside it. Jack Harburger pointed
to a hole in the wall paper. That's your ear hole,
he whispered, and Filo gub stepped into the room. Instantly,
the door slammed behind him. The key turned in the lock,
and he heard a heavy iron bar clank as it
fell into place. Outside. He was a prisoner, caught like
a rat in a trap, and he knew it. He
threw himself against the door, but it did not give
The electric light above his head went dark. He put
out his hand and the wall gave slightly. He drew
the revolver and waited, dreading what might next occur. He
heard soft footsteps outside the door, and raising the revolver,
pulled the trigger. The trigger snapped harmlessly. He had been tricked,
tricked all around. Is the ubliet prepared, whispered a voice outside,
all ready for him, twelve feet of water. He'll drown
like a rat. Good, a slow death, like a rat,
in a trap, like we served the other two. Then
get rid of his body the same way, a stone
on it and the river. Yes, they'll never come up again.
The voices died away along the corridor, and Filo Gub
was left in utter silence. Ohobliette, the fate of the
detectives of the Pale Avengers was to be his. Suddenly
the room began to quiver. The floor and the walls
trampled and creaked, and Filo Gub threw himself once more
against the door. He shouted and beat upon it with
his hands, inch by inch, creaking and swaying, the room
glided downward. The door seemed to glide upward beyond the ceiling,
giving place to a solid wall. Pete turned and beat
on the side of the room, and it gave forth
a hollow sound. As he moved, the room swayed under
his feet. He was doomed alone in the darkness. His
fear suddenly gave way to a feeling of pride. He
was dangerous enough then to be thought worthy of death.
His last drop of doubt oozed out of his mind.
He was he must be a great detective, or such
means would not have been taken to get rid of him.
He felt a sort of calm joy in this. His
murderers knew his prowess. Locked in the room, going down
to certain death, he exalted. And if he was as
great as all that, it could not be that his
position was hopeless. Time and again Carl Carroll, the boy detective,
had been in equally precarious positions, But in the end
he had brought the pail of angers low. And what
a boy undrained could do, a graduate of the Rising
Sun Correspondent School of Detecting ought to be able to do.
He drew his knife from his pocket and cut into
the wallpaper of the side wall, being a paper hanger.
The first touch of his hand against the side wall
had told him the wallpaper was pasted on canvas and
not on a solid wall. And now he ripped the
canvas away. The wall was of rough boards, scarred and barred.
The opposite wall was the same. He kneeled on the
bed and tried the rear wall. He felt the plastered
wall gliding upward. He stood on the bed and ripped
the canvas ceiling away. As he ripped the ceiling away,
light entered the cage from a dirty skylight far above.
Just over his head, a heavy iron grating covered the cage,
barring him in. But high up he could see the
great drum from which the cable slowly unwound as the
car descended. He was in an elevator, but this knowledge
gave him small comfort. Cage room or elevator, call it
what he choose. It was relentlessly descending into the flooded cellar.
He watched the drum with fasct eyes as the wire
cable unwound itself. He lay back on the bed, his
feet hanging to the floor, and stared upward. He could
not take his eyes from the revolving drum. It was
like a clock marking the moments. He still had to live.
But suddenly he was galvanized into action. Over his feet,
something cold ran, making him jerk them from the floor.
It was the water of the Obliette, and he gazed
on it with horror as it rose inch by inch
toward him slowly. As the car dropped, the water crept up.
It reached the first drawer of the small bureau. It
crept up to the side rails of the bed. It
wet the mattress, and still it rose. He stood on
the bed and grasped the iron grating above his head. Stop,
whispered a voice above his head, and the creaking cage
stopped Gub. Detective Gub whispered the voice, and Filo Gub
looked upward. Listen. Detective Gub said the voice. One touch
of my hand on the lever, and you will be
dropped beneath the wooters, never to appear again except dead.
One only chance remains for your life, and blackened with
crime though we are. We offer you that chance. If
you will swear to leave the state, never to return,
we will spare you. What say you, Philo Gub. It
was an offer no mortal could refuse. Life, after all,
is sweet, Philo Gub, the relentless correspondent school detective, opened
his mouth, but as he turned his head upward, he
closed it again and licked his lips twice. No durn ye,
he shouted angrily. I won't ever do no such thing.
There was a hurried whispering of many voices above him.
Think well, said the voice again. We will give you
until midnight to reconsider your rashness. Until midnight, Detective Gub,
You can't scare me, shouted Philo Gub. Until midnight, repeated
the voice, and then there was silence. Philo Gub immediately
drew his heavy pocket Knight from his pocket and began
cutting out one of the panels of the door that
shut him in on one side. He did not work hurriedly.
He was not at all frightened. Looking up, he had
seen the drum, and there was no more cable on
the drum to be unwound. The car could descend no farther.
His feet were as wet as they could get unless
the river rose to unbelievable height. He could not be
drowned in the makeshift dubliette unless he voluntarily lay down
in the shallow water and inhaled it. He worked on
the panel slowly, but with the earnestness of a very
angry victim of a hoax. The panel fell outward with
a splash and floated away. Filo gubb bent sideways and
squeezed out of the small opening into the cellar. The
huge cellar was dusky in the dim light that entered
through the cobwebbed panes high in the wall. It was
an immense place and now knee deep in wooter, except
for a gangway of boards laid on low tressels, which
led from one side of the cellar to the cellar door.
There were cold bins and vegetable bins like woody bays
leading from the general cellar sea, and strange appliants to
discover in a hotel cellar. A small hay baling press
stood on an extemporized platform against one wall, and alongside
it on a long table. Such are seen in factories
bales of hay, some complete and some torn open, and cases.
The cases were labeled Blue River canned tomatoes, but one
split across the end gave evidence that their contents were
not canned tomatoes at all. Through the crack in the
case glittered these six silver stars of the six Star Whisky.
There were twenty six of the cases. Philo Gub waded
to the raised gangway and walked to the cellar door.
It was double barred on the inside, and he lifted
the bars cautiously and stepped into the alley, closing the
door carefully behind him. He pulled his false whiskers and
wig from his face and stuffed them in his pockets
and hurried down the alley. When he returned, Billy Getz,
Jack Harburger, and six of the kidders were holding high
revel in the closed bar room of the Harburger house,
but they all fell silent when the door opened and
the Sheriff of Durling County entered with Philo Gubb and
three deputies in company. It was evident that the sheriff
did not consider Philo Gubb a joke. Search warrant Jack.
He said to Harburger, Detective Gub of Riverbank has been
doing some sleuthing in your hotel. He says, we want
to have a look at the cellar. The next morning,
the Riverbank Eagle was full of Philo Gub again through
the superback human of that wonderful detective. Three stores of
whiskey had been discovered and confiscated. Why in the cellar
of the Harburger House at Durlingport, one in Joe Henry's
stable at Riverbank, and a smaller one in the room
in the Wilcox building frequented by the Kidders. How I
done it, said Filo Gub to one of his admirers.
I done it like a detecative, does it. A detecative
that wants to detect, picks up some feller that looks suspicious,
like like it says in lesson for rule for, and
then he shadows and trails him, like it says in
lesson four rules four to seventeen, and then something's bound
to happen. But how can you tell what's going to happen,
asked his admirer. Well, sir, said Filo Gubb. That's the
beauty of the detecative business. You don't ever know what's
going to happen until it happens. And of the Oubliette
by Ellis Parker Butler