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The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ear in the Wall, by Arthur B. Reeve(#8 in our series by Arthur B. Reeve)Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check thecopyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributingthis or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this ProjectGutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit theheader without written permission.Please read the "legal small print," and other information about theeBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included isimportant information about your specific rights and restrictions inhow the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make adonation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts****eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971*******These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****Title: The Ear in the WallAuthor: Arthur B. ReeveRelease Date: February, 2004 [EBook #5150][Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule][This file was first posted on May 15, 2002]Edition: 10Language: EnglishCharacter set encoding: ASCII*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE EAR IN THE WALL ***This eBook was produced by Charles Franks and the Online DistributedProofreading Team.THE EAR IN THE WALLBYARTHUR B. REEVEFRONTISPIECE BY WILL FOSTER
 
CONTENTSCHAPTERI THE VANISHERII THE BLACK BOOKIII THE SAFE ROBBERYIV THE ANONYMOUS LETTERV THE SUFFRAGETTE SECRETARYVI THE WOMAN DETECTIVEVII THE GANG LEADERVIII THE SHYSTER LAWYERIX THE JURY FIXERX THE AFTERNOON DANCEXI THE TYPEWRITER CLUEXII THE "PORTRAIT PARLE"XIII THE CONVICTIONXIV THE BEAUTY PARLOURXV THE PHANTOM CIRCUITXVI THE SANITARIUMXVII THE SOCIETY SCANDALXVIII THE WALL STREET WOLFXIX THE ESCAPEXX THE METRIC PHOTOGRAPHXXI THE MORGUEXXII THE CANARDXXIII THE CONFESSIONXXIV THE DEBACLE OF DORGANXXV THE BLOOD CRYSTALSXXVI THE WHITE SLAVE
 
XXVII THE ELECTION NIGHTITHE VANISHER"Hello, Jameson, is Kennedy in?"I glanced up from the evening papers to encounter the square-jawed, alert face of District Attorney Carton in the doorway ofour apartment."How do you do, Judge?" I exclaimed. "No, but I expect him anysecond now. Won't you sit down?"The District Attorney dropped, rather wearily I thought, into achair and looked at his watch.I had made Carton's acquaintance some years before as a cubreporter on the Star while he was a judge of an inferior court.Our acquaintance had grown through several political campaigns inwhich I had had assignments that brought me into contact with him.More recently some special writing had led me across his trailagain in telling the story of his clean-up of graft in the city.At present his weariness was easily accounted for. He was in themidst of the fight of his life for re-election against the so-called "System," headed by Boss Dorgan, in which he had gone farin exposing evils that ranged all the way from vice and the drugtraffic to bald election frauds."I expect a Mrs. Blackwell here in a few minutes," he remarked,glancing again at his watch. His eye caught the headline of thenews story I had been reading and he added quickly, "What do theboys on the Star think of that Blackwell case, anyhow?"It was, I may say, a case deeply shrouded in mystery--thedisappearance without warning of a beautiful young girl, BettyBlackwell, barely eighteen. Her family, the police, and now theDistrict Attorney had sought to solve it in vain. Some had thoughtit a kidnaping, others a suicide, and others had even hinted atmurder. All sorts of theories had been advanced without in theleast changing the original dominant note of mystery. Photographsof the young woman had been published broadcast, I knew, withouteliciting a word in reply. Young men whom she had known and girlswith whom she had been intimate had been questioned without somuch as a clue being obtained. Reports that she had been seen hadcome in from all over the country, as they always do in suchcases. All had been investigated and had turned out to be based onnothing more than imagination. The mystery remained unsolved."Well," I replied, "of course there's a lot of talk now in thepapers about aphasia and amnesia and all that stuff. But, youknow, we reporters are a sceptical lot. We have to be shown. Ican't say we put much faith in THAT."
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