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Aldi r^ton Pence
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CSMWNA/f
THE TERROR
IN THE SNOW
(Continued.)
“Baron Steen." he said, “met with
his death on an open path between a
shallow duck-pond and a little pavil
ion. He had fought hard for life, had
rolled and struggled with his enemy.
There were four or five punctured
wounds in his throat and neck, from
which he had bled profusely.
And
now for the thing that killed him—
whatever it was. It could not have
fled down the cliff path, for the boat’s
crew waiting below had heard the
screams, and had come running up by
that way. They were with him when
we arrived, and assured me they had
seen nothing. It could not have turn
ed to the right or left. for. though the
paths had been swept clean—doubt
less by the baron's orders, for he
would not desire his way of escape
to be easily traced—.bo snow on
either side lay in unbroken levels. It
could only have retired by the yew
avenue, and It did not break through
the hedge. That, again, the snow
proved i ifiin). Sv, wc maj laac it»
that whatever the thing may have
been which you saw—it killed Baron
Steen; further, it escaped into the
house—this, you will remember, we
decided in the garden. Let us imag
ine it was a man—that you were de
ceived by the uncertain light His
clothes must of necessity have been
drenched in blood. He could not
have struggled so fiercely with his
victim and escaped those fatal signs.
Yet, he cannot have burned his
clothes, for the fires are downstairs
where people wer.» passing. Nor can
he have washed them, for neither the
bath rooms nor the bedroom basins
have been recently used. . I have
■pent some time In searching boxes
and wardrobes with no result. Strang
er still, as far as my limited informa
tion goes, every one in the house can
prove an alibi—save two.”
"And who are they?” I asked
eagerly.
“Mr. Henderson, the baron's valet—
and yourself.”
"Inspector Peace--- ” I began an
grily.
“Tut, tut, my dear Mr. Phillips. I
was merely stating the facts.
Mr.
Henderson’s case, however, presents
an interesting feature, for he has run
away.”
"Run away,” I said. "Then that
■ettles it.”
"Not altogether. I'm afraid. I think
It is more a matter of theft than mur
der with Mr. Henderson."
I stared at him in silence as he sat
there, with his little hands clasped
upon his lap. a picture of irritating
composure.
"Peace.” I said, struggling to con
trol my voice. "What are you hiding
from me? It is something inhuman,
unnatural that has done this dreadful
thing ”
The little detective stretched him
self, yawned, and then rose to his
feet.
"I have no opinion except that I
think you had better go to bed. Don't
lock your door, for I may find time
for an hour’s sleep on your sofa be
fore morning "
•
••••••
The news was out after breakfast—
the news that led to mild hysterics
and scurrying of lady's-maids to the
packing of boxes, and the chastened
sorrow of those gentlemen who owed
the baron money. Through all the
turmoil of the morning moved the lit
tle detective, the most sympathetic
of men. 1^ was he who apologized so
humbly for the locked doors of the
bath-rooms; he who superintended
the lighting of fires, and the making
of the beds, and the packing of
trunks for the station so closely that
the housemaids were convinced that
he entertained a secret passion for
each one of them; it was he who an
nounced Henderson’s robbery of the
gold plate, following it by informa
tion as to the culprit’s arrest. The
establishment had by this time be
come convinced that Henderson was
the murderer, and breathed relief at
the news.
They bad brought the body of Baron
Steen to the house early in the morn
ing—It had been laid In the garden
pavilion on its first discovery.
With death in so strange a form
present among us, I was disgusted by
the noise and bustle, the gossip and
chatter amongst the guests of the
dead man. I wandered off in search
of the one person who had seemed
sincerely affected by the news, the
young secretary, Maurice Terry. He
wm nowhere to be found.
A sarvant
f whom I inquired told me that the
secretary had kept to bis bed, being
greatly unnerved by the tragedy, and
I strolled up the stairs again on an
errand of consolation. The door was
locked, and there came no answer to
my continued tapping.
“Terry,” I called through the key
hole. "It Is I, Phillips; won't you let
me tn?“
“I have a key that will fit, if you
will kindly stand aside,” suggested a
modest voice.
I rose from my knees to find the
inspector at my elbow.
"It would be a gross Intrusion," I
told him. "If he wishes to be alone
with his sorrow, we have no rlgnt co
disturb him."
"He is seriously ill.”
"How did you discover that?"
“By borrowing a gardener's ladder
and looking through his window. He
is unconscious, or was ten minutes
ago."
A skillful twist or two with a bit
of wire and the key was pushed from
the lock. The duplicate opened the
door. Peace walked into the room,
and I followed at his heels.
On his bed, fully dressed, lay poor
Terry, with a face paler than bls pil
lows. Hfs breath came and went In
«hnrf n»ln* >1 ousna Ona hand fltrAT-
ed continuously about
his throat,
groping and plucking at his collar
with feverish unrest. It was a very
painful spectacle.
"I will send for a doctor at once." I
whispered, stepping to the bell. But
Peace held up a warning hand.
“Come here," he said. “1 have some
thing to show you."
With movements as tender as a
woman's he unfastened the man's col
lar and slipped out the stud. Then
he paused. The eyes that watched
me had turned cold and hard.
“If it is as I suspect, you may be
called as a witness. Do you object?"
“Yes; but I shall not leave you on
that account.”
"Very well," he said, as he opened
the shirt and the vest beneath IL
Smeared and patched in dark etch
ing upon the white skin was a broad
stain of blood, of dried and clotted '
blood, the life’s blood of a man.
“He is wounded* Peace.” I cried
“Poor fellow, he must have nearly
bled to death.”
“Do not alarm yourself,” said the
inspector, dryly. “It is the blood of
Baron Steen."
•
••••••
A week had gone by. and I was sit
ting alone in my Keble Street rooms,
when Peace walked in, with a heavy
traveling coat over his arm.
“Thank Heaven, you have come at
last,” I cried. “How is Maurice Ter
ry?”
“Dead—poor fellow," he said, with
an honest sorrow in his voice. "Yet,
after all, Mr. Phillips, it was the best
that could have happened to him.”
"And bis story—the causes—the
method?” I demanded.
"It has taken some bard work, but
the bits of the puzzle are fitted to
gether at last You wish to hear it, I
suppose?"
"According to your promise,” I re
minded him.
"It is a case of unusual Interest,”
he said. “Though it bears a certain
similarity to the Gottstein trial at
Kiel in '89."
He paused to light his big pipe,
and then sat back in his chair, with
bis eyes fixed in abstract contemplar
tion.
"I was convinced that the murderer
was in the bouse; and that he had
entered by the side door, towards
which you had seen him pass. When
studying the spot I made a discovery
of some importance. Steen had left
by the same exit. Also he had reason
to fear some person In that wing, for
he had turned from the path and made
a circuit over the grass. 1« had al
ready noted his broad-toed boots when
examining his body—and the foot
prints in the snow were unmistak
able. Who was his enemy in that
wing? It was a problem to be solved.
"I discovered no stained clothing,
and no signs of its cleansing or de
struction. From what information I
could gather, all the house party had
been in the roulette-room save you
yourself; and all the servants had
been at the dance save Henderson
and a man watting on the guests. But
in the course of my search tlje foot
man who accompanied me discovered
that a quantity of gold plate was miss
ing. It was reasonable to imagine
that Henderson was the thief. Prob
ably the confidential valet had learnt
of the Baron's projected flight and
of the warrant for bis arrest. It was
a moment for judicious robbery, the
traces of which would be covered by
th« confusion of the news. But was
Henderson also a murderer? I did
not think so. The death of his mas
ter was the one thing which would
wreck hts scheme In the early morn
ing I Interviewed the farmer on
whose car ho had driven Into Nor-
bridge. He told me that, acting on
orders be bad received from Hender
son. he mot that person at the cor
uer of the stables at eleven o'clock
precisely—five minutes before the
murder occurred. That finally elimi
nated the valet from the list.
"On my return from the farm I ex
amined the gardens again with great
minuteness. At the corner of the lit
tle pavilion, about fifteen feet from
where the body had lain, there was a
patch of bloody snow. This puzzled
me a good deal, until the solution of
fered Itself that the murderer bad
tried to wash his hands In the snow,
the water of the pond being frosen
hard.
Yet his clothing would also
bear the stain. What bad be worn
that showed so white to you In the
starlight? Could it have been that he
wore no clothes at all?
"A naked man!
The suggestion
was full of possibilities.
"It was fortunate that I had brought
assistants to help me In Steen's cap
ture. Their presence gave me a wid
er scope, for they were both good
men. I left them to search the pavil
ion and laurels for the clothing,
which the murderer might have con
cealed when he realized how fatal
was Its evidence. As I walked back
to the house I began to understand
the situation more clearly. The main
drive, curving down the slope of the
park, was In view of a tall man com
ing up by the yew walk. The mur
derer might have noticed our ap
proach. What more natural than that
he should have bent double as he ran,
thus obtaining the cover of the left
hand hedge, which was not more than
four to five feet high? Did not this
answer »n ynnr deacrtntion of the
thing you had seen? It would have
been cold work for him. I made a
note to be on the look-out for chills.
"For a couple of hours I devoted
myself to speeding those guests who
caught the eleven-thirty train. I do
not think a trunk left for the station
of which I have not a complete In
ventory.
Indeed, the baron's cred
itors have to thank me for the return
of several trifles of value, which were
Included, accidentally, no doubt. In
the ladles' dressing-bags.
"After the carriages had started I
went in search of Terry, and discov
ered that he had not left his room.
Equally to the point, his windows
looked down upon the spot where the
baron made hfs detour over the grass
while escaping. I became Interested
In this young man
The score was
creeping up against him
A ladder
from an obliging gardener allowed m«
to obMrve hint from the window. A I
visit to the housekeeper gave me ■
duplicate key to his door. What hap
pened In th« room you know, Mr.
Phillips."
“But, the motive—why did he kill
his patron?" I asked him eagurly.
"I doubt If we shall ever Ittirn the j
truth on that point," he Bald. "As1
far as 1 can make out, Steen was di
rectly responsible for the ruin and
disgrace of Terry's father. Probably
the son did not fully realize this when
the baron, with a pity most unusual
in the man, give him the secretary- 1
ship. But of all participation in the
flight he was certainly Innocent, for
he was In bed at the time."
"In bed!" I cried.
“Don't Interrupt. If you
please.
What happened 1 take to be as fol
lows: Terry was In bed when the old
man tried to creep past Me window
Somehow he heard him, and. looking
out. understood what was up. Per
haps that rascal Henderson had told
him the truth about his father; per
haps Steen had promised him com
pensation—he had a mother and sis
ter dependent on him—which prom
ise the financier meant to avoid,
along with many more serious obliga
tions. by running away. At any rate,
passion, revenge, the sense of Injus
tice—call It what you like—took hold
of the lad
He caught up the first
bandy weapon; It chanced to be ■
dagger paper knife—dangerous things.
I hate them—and rushed down a back
staircase and through the side door
In pursuit of bis enemy.
"When that had happened, which
happened, the fear that comes to all
amateurs In crime took him by the
throat. He wiped his hands In th«
snow; he tore off his sleeping suit—
that Is how 1 know he had been In
bed—and thrust It, with Its terrible
evidences of murder, into the thatch
nt the little navilion.
We found It
there a day later. Then he started
back to the house as naked as a baby.
"He saw us running down the hill,
and made for the side door, bending
double behind the hedge. Who were
we? Had we noticed him? Believe
me. Mr. Phillipa, whether he had held
the murder righteous or no. It was
only the rope he saw dangling before
him. Might not the alarm be given at
any moment? He dared not wash
himself, and the stains had dried
upon him. He hurried on his clothes,
shivering In the chill that had struck
home, and so to the safest place he
could And—the roulette-table"
"It is well that he died " I said alm
ply.
"It saved the law some trouble."
remarked the Inspector, with a grim
little nod at the wall.
(CHRONICLES TO
nK CONTINUED »
Furniture Polish.
Beeswax and turpentine Is a cap
ttal polish for furniture which Is not
French polished. To make It, abred
half an ounce of beeswax very tine
and add to It a quarter of a part of
spirits of turpentine. Stir well and
put aside until the next day. Thon
stir aggiB and let It stand for another
day. when It will be toady for us«.
Never melt beeswax and turpentine
over a hot fire, as It Is highly in Hum-
mabl«.
Kingly Llfa.
And so the kingly Ilf« Is a life In
quest of big things Everyone Is pain
fully familiar with th« temptation to
fritter away life lu interests that are
small and mean.
There are thos«
who spend their strength in seeking
money, The concentrated purpose of
their days Is a quest for gold. They
are zealous for artificial gems and
they miss the goodly pearls.—J. H.
Ix>w*tt, D D.
Mothers will find Mr«. Wlnst<rw*s Snotat««
Syrup i' e best rsmedv to uss 'ot tusit vhlMion
•unug .ho toothing ]«rlud.
Breaking It Gently.
"I hev coine to tell yes, Mrs. Ma
lone, that yer husband met with an
accident."
"A h ' what is it, now?”
wHilrd Mra. Malone. "Ha was over
come by the heat, mum.” "Overcoma
by the heat, was he? An' how did it
happen?" "Ho fell into the furnaca
over at the foundry, mum."—Tit-Bits.
Riches In Poverty.
How alight a thing is poverty; what
riches, nay treasures untold, a man
may possess In the midst of it, if he
does but seek them aright.—Coleridge.
Hiiliin
“All In, Down
and Out”
It’s in the Spring you always feel
that way. The system is overloaded
with winter impurities, the blood is
sluggish and the bowels clogged.
HOSTETTER’S
STOMACH BITTERS
GIVES BACK WHAT IS GIVEN BREAKING IT TO HIM GENTLY
Life, In the Main, Is Just and Almost
Inevitably Returns Good
for Good.
Naval Officers Knew Just How to
Treat Officious Lawyer Who
Was "Butting In."
The echo Is the principle of life
You get back from the world the mes
sage you give it
Neither this nor any other truth la
true in all particulars; very often
you receive evil for your good and
good for your evil, harsh words when
you sent forth only kindness, and in
justice in return for your deeds hon
est and well meant, but like all truths
it is true in general.
In fact, the essence of every truth
Is a generalization which the mind
is able to pick from a mass of con
fusing particulars.
Is it a cold, hard-hearted, unfeeling
world to you? Then I very much fear
that you have given to it a selfish,
narrow, egotistic heart.
Is it a tolerably good sort of place,
and do you find men and women as a
rule just and kindly disposed? You
must have been yourself an honest
and generous nature.
Haven’t you had days when every
thing seemed to go wrong? You said
you must have gotten out of bed with
the wrong foot first.
You have
fumbled all you undertook, your fin
gers have been all thumbs, and ev
eryone about you has seemed smit
ten with the grouch.
In all this you have been but seeing
yourself as In a glass. It is your
ugly mood that dims the shining sur
face of a really pleasant world.
Nothing Is so unerring as the total
universe. Time and nature seem now
and then slipshod, and do things un
just and uncalled for, but they al
ways make it up In the long run and
pay every soul back a hundred cents
on the dollar.—Woman’s World.
Courts martial are not Infrequently
held on battleships In the Charles
town navy yard. Sometimes a sailor
will send for a Boston attorney to de
fend him. although this tendency is
discouraged by the officers. Most at
torneys know they have no absolute
right to practice In a naval court, and
can do so only by permission of the
court, but occasionally a lawyer goes
aboard who doe* not realize this fact.
A sailor who was charged with
gambling had retained an attorney to
get him off. This attorney, who had
never had such a case before, went
briskly into the officers’ wardrobe,
where the court was sitting, and
without waiting on ceremony began
to address the court in a blustering
manner.
"Just a minute,” interrupted the
presiding officer. "Who are you?"
"I am Mr. Rudolph Smithers," the
attorney replied, "and I am a member
of the Massachusetts bar."
"Oh, you are Mr. Smithers, are
you?” continued the officer. "Then
you are the man whom the orderly
wants to see." He called the orderly.
"What does the orderly want of
me?” asked the attorney in a superior
tone.
“Nothing very much," replied the
chief justice; "he merely wants to
show you off the ship."
Andrew Lang’s Handicap.
The London Spectator says that
Andrew Lang always bad poor health,
and most of his work was done when
he was tired and sick. This being
the case, it is easy to understand and
forgive his frequent crankiness.
Cheerful Breakfastere.
People are nearly always nice when
one gets to know them and pierces
through the husks of artificiality,
which they wear before ihe world. I
detest heaps of people that I have
only met at difiner, but I think I ilk«
everybody that I have ever had break
fast with.—Ellen Thornycroft Fowler.
Small Chance for Him.
A Brooklyn man’s wife has eighteen
rocking chairs. There’s one man who
doesn’t dare to sneak into th« bo«M
late at night
is an ideal medicine for all spring
ailments and a trial now will con
vince you.
Be sure it’s Hostetter's.
Illllllll
HOW I MADE
MY HAIR GROW
Woman With Marvelously Beautiful
Hair Give« Simple Home Prescrip
tion Which She Used With Most
Remarkable Results.
I was greatly troubled with dandruff and fallins
hair. I tried many advertised hair preparations
and various prescriptions, but they all signally
failed: many of them made my hair grraay to It
wu impoaaible to comb II or do It up properly.
I think that many of the things I tried were post-
lively Injurious and from my own experience I
eannot too strongly caution you sgalnst using
preparations containing wood alcohol and other
poisonous substances. I believe they Injure ths
roots of the heir. After my long list of failures.
I finally found a simple pt.-mio.tion which lean
unhesitatingly state la beyond doubt the moat
wonderful thing for the hair I have ever seen.
Many of my friends have also used it, and ob.
tained wonderful effeeta therefrom. It not only
la a powerful stimulant to the growth of the hair
and for restoring gray hair to its natural color,
but It Is <-<i nelly g<x«i for removing dandruff, glv.
Ing the hair lb-and brilliancy, etc, and for the
purpose of keeping th« scalp in firot-claaa con
dition. It also makes the hair eaal-r to comb and
arrange in nice form. I have a friend who used
it two months and during that time It has not
only stopped the falling of hie hair and wonder
fully tacressed ita growth, but It practically re
stored sll of his hslr to Ita natural color. You can
obtain the Ingredienta for making thia wonderful
preparation from almost any druggist The pre-
scription is as follows:
Rsy Rum, Hoi.; Menthol Crystals, U drachm;
Lavona de Composes'. 2 os. If you like It per
fumed sdd a few drops of To-Kalon Perfume,
which mixes perfectly with the other Ingredients.
This, however, is not necessary.
Apply night and morning; rub thoroughly into
the scalp.
Go to your druggiat and aak for an eight ounce
bottle containing six ounces of Ray Rum; also one-
half drachm of Menthol Crystals, and a two-ounce
bottle of lavona de Composes’. Mix the Ingre
dienta yourself at your own home. Add the Men
thol Crystals to the Ray Hum and then pour in
the Lavona de Compose«' and add the To-Kalon
Perfume. Let it stand ons-half hour and it is
ready for use.