5kD. Fletcher Robinson
THE MYSTERY OF
THE CAUSEWAY
It was on Thursday, May, 18. 1899,
that young Sir Andrew Cbeyne was
found dead of a gunshot wound In the
grounds of Airlie Hall, his house In
Surrey.
I was myself especially Interested In
the case, as I was staying at a cot
tage within three miles of the Hall at
the time. All the gossip came to us
first hand. By breakfast we learned
of the Ceath. An hour later came the
rumor of the murder, and the fact
that an arrest had been made. A man
had been caught running from the
pot where the body lay.
My host was a bachelor and a broth
er artist His little place was bound
bj no conventions. Go or come, but
don't trouble to explain such was the
custom. He was busy that morning,
as I knew, so I appropriated his bicy
cle and set off through the lanes to
visit the scene of the tragedy.
Airlie Hall lay some two hundred
yards back from the main road. The
drive, framed In wide stretches of
turf, and flanked by a triple avenue
of chestnuts, ran in a straight line
from the great porch to the entrance
gates of twisted ' Iron. Peering
through the bars . were a dozen vil
lagers. Within, his hand upon the
lock, stood a policeman, massive, red
faced, pompous with his present Im
portance. "May I come In?" I asked politely,
"You may not," he said quite briefly.
I put my hand in my pocket, hesi
tated, and drew It out empty. It
was too public a place for corruption.
If Addlngton Peace had only been
with me, I thought and, so thinking,
came by an idea. Even a rural police
man would know the famous detective's
name.
"My friend, Inspctor Peace" I
began.
"Inspector who?" he Interrupted.
"Addlngton Peace of the Criminal
Investigation Department I hoped he
would be hire."
His manner changed with a celerity
which was the greatest compliment
be could have paid to the little detec
tive. "I beg your pardon, sir," he said.
"The Inspector drove up from the sta
tion not- ten minutes ago. If you will
Inquire at the hall, you will be sure to
find him."
The servant who answered my mod
est ring led me through a dark pas
sage of paneled oak and out upon the
terrace that lay on the farther side of
the house. Below it a sloping lawn
ran down to a broad lake fringed with
reeds. Beyond the lake a park
stretched away dotted with .single
oaks now struggling into foliage. It
was a lovely view, unmolested by the
centuries. As it was so it had been
three hundred years before, when some
courtier of Elizabeth, in tightly fitting
hose and Immaculate ruffles, chose it
rs the outlook from the windows of
his dining-room.
In the middle of the terrace, Addlng
ton Peace stood, smoking a cigarette
and talking to a tall and stately per
son in a black coat who looked every
Inch the man he was the butler of a
British country house.
"A fine morning, Mr. Phillips," he
said. VI did not know you were stay
ing In the neighborhood."
"I cycled over after hearing the
news. Your name opened the gates.
Inspector."
"Well. I am pleased to see you,
anyhow. Mr. Roberts here was giving
me his view of this unfortunate affair.
You may continue, Mr. Roberts."
The little Inspector turned, as he
heard my footsteps on the gravel, and
nodded a benevolent welcome.
The butler had been staring at me
with great suspicion; but apparently
he concluded that, as a friend of a
detective, I was a respectable per
son. "Well, gentlemen," he said, In a soft,
oily voice, as from confirmed over
eating, "my mind is, so to speak, a
blank. But what I know I will say
without fear or favor. Sir Andrew had
not previously honored us with his
presence, be having remained abroad
from the death of Sir William, which
was his uncle, some six months ago.
Yesterday that is, Thursday morning
he wired from London for a carriage
to meet the 12:32 train. We were all
In a flutter of excitement, as you can
well Imagine. But when be arrived It
was, be said, with no Intention of
staying the night During the after
noon he saw bis agent on business,
and afterwards went for a walk, re
turning about six. He dined at eight
and had his coffee served In the small
library.
"The last train to London was at
10:25, and we had our orders for a
carriage to be ready for him at five
minutes to the hour. At ten o'clock
precisely I took the liberty of entering
the small library to inform Sir An
drew that the carriage was waiting,
and that there was only just 'time to
catch the train. He was not there,
and, the windows on to the terrace
being open, I walked through to see If
he was sitting outside, the evening be
ing salubrious for the time of the
year. It was while I was there that
I heard the footsteps of some one run
ning on the gravel, and, first thing I
knew, who should appear but Jake
Warner, the keeper. 'Hello, Mr.
Warner,' says I, 'and where may you
be going in such a hurry T Is It poach
ers?' I says. 'No,' says he, In a sad
taking, 'but Sir Andrew's been shot
shot dead, Mr. Roberts, on the cause
way to the island.' 'Heaven defend us,'
I says; 'but do '"
"Quite so, Mr. Roberts," said Peace.
"We understand you were much upset
So you have no Idea when it was that
Sir Andrew left the HtUe library?"
Jl JUL iS'-n ' 41
lp pill' i m "1 A mHL
fj U YOU
MAY NOT
No, sir, save that It was between
nine and ten.'
"Thank you. And now, Mr. Phillips,
I think we will go down and have a
look at the causeway walk."
At the end of terrace we found a
policeman waiting. He touched his
helmet to the inspector, and, after a
few words with him, led the way down
some moss-grown steps and over a
sloping lawn towards the lake. We
skirted the right hand edge for per
haps two hundred yards, until we
came to where a short causeway of
stone had been built out Into the
water, joining the lawns to a shrub
grown island. The roof of a gabled
cottage peeped out from the heart of
its yews and laurels. The causeway,
paved with great slabs of slate, was
never more than five feet broad. On
either side of It was a dense growth of
feathery" reeds, hiding the lake be
hind their rustling walls.
"What cottage is that?" asked
Peace, pointing a finger.
"When he was a young man, Sir
William, that was Sir Andrew's uncle,
used to give lunches and teas there In
the summer months," said the police
man. But the place has been shut
up for a long time now, sir. No one
goes to the Island barring the ducks,
and they nest there by the hundred."
"Where did you catch the prisoner?"
"About this very place, sir. It was
about half-past nine, and I was walk
ing down the public path, which passes
the east corner of tbe lake, when I
heard the shot It seemed a strange
time of the year for night poaching,
but there are rascals in the village
who wouldn't hesitate about the sea
sons so long as they had a duck for
dinner.
"Off I raced as hard as I could put
legs to the ground. When I came to
the causeway head ' I pulled up and
looked about me. There was a slip
of a moon over the island and a
plenty of stars, so that tbe night was
fairly bright No one was In sight
but presently I w heard the thump,
thump, of a man running over the
turf, and who should come panting
down the slope but Jake Warner, the
keeper. He was In ucb a hurry that
he was auga as close as I am to you.
sir, before be saw me.
"Good Lord!' he 'cried, jumping
back; 'and what are you doing here?
"'Didn't you hear a shot fired V I
asked.
" 'Not a sound of it' he said, with a
sulky face on htm.
"It surprised me more than a bit
Indeed, I had begun to wonder If 1
could have been mistaken, when there
came a clatter on the slabs of the
causeway, and a man rushed out from
the reeds like a mad thing. He gave
a little cry like a frightened rabbit
when he caught sight of us, and tried
to twist away, but bis feet slipped
from under him, and down he fell. Be
fore he could recover I was sitting on
his chest
'"I had no hand in it,' he shouted.
'I swear to you It was not me. 1 was
to meet him on the island. He was
dead when I came to him.'
"'Dead who Is dead?' asked Jake,
very anxious.
"'Sir Andrew Cheyne,' said th
man, with a shiver.'
"I was that taken aback that 1? be
had made a run for it he might have
done so for all I could have stopped
him. As for Jake, he gave a yelp and
disappeared down the cau-eway. like
a rat Into a hole.
"'Sir Andrew Is In France," I said,
for so Mr. Roberts had told me not a
week before. 'You're crazy, man.'
" 'Shut your mouth, you fool' those
were his very last vords, sir 'I tell
you Cheyne Is dead. Go and look for
yourself.'
"'I must trouble you to come with
me, then said I, taking him by the
collar.
"We walked down the causeway be
tween the reeds, he In front and me
behind with my hand in his neck.
About half-way down we came upon
Jake, who was kneeling by tbe body,
j which lay flat on its back. I had never
seen Sir Andrew and no more had
Jake, so we had to take the stranger's
word for it When we found there
was no sign of lifer left In him, I sent
Jake to get assistance. He came
back with Mr. Roberts and two of the
men, who carried away the body up
to the house, while I arrested my
prisoner and walked him oft to the
lock-up. We found a loaded revolver
upon him. He refused to say who he
was or to make any explanation."
"And afterwards?" asked Addlngton
Peace. .
"I searched the causeway as soon
as It was light There was nothing to
be found. But the evidence against
the prisoner seems clear enough, sav
ing the fact that the shotgun he used
has disappeared. He must have
NO PLACE FOR AGED MAN
Uncle Ranny Ramsey, Who Is Palsied,
Must Be Kept Away From
All Auctions.
"In the morning of our existence,"
phllosocogltatorlally remarked the
Erratic Thinker, "when life stretches
away and away ahead of us, and we
scamper on supple, care-free legs
through flowery dells, and all that
how little we reck that the first thing
we know we will be in tbo midst of
golden noon when the shadows fall
neither to the right nor to the left.
And eftsoon, with weary, stiffened
limbs and defective hearing, we'll set
out to promenade on the railroad
track three minutes before train time.
Then, let us be considerate of the'
aged and not let them know bow
much smarter we are than they were
at our age, and but you have no
idea how much engineering It takes
on my part to keep my old Uncle
Ranny Ramsey from attending every
thrown It Into the water. They wilt
drag the lake for It this afternoon.
We've got the real murderer all right
don't you think, sir?"
"Did you search the Island before
you left last night?"
"No. sir."
"Might not another man have been
concealed there?"
The policeman did not reply, save by
coloring a deeper red and staring hard
at his boots. . ,
(CHRONICLES TO EiB CONTINUED.)
TWENTY WORDS IN THE LEAD
Cleveland Lawyer's New Stenographer
Kept well Ahead of Him When
He Dictated.
A Cleveland corporation lawyer has
a new stenographer the second new
one In a week. Strange to say, be
didn't discbarge the first one because
she was incompetent, but because
she was too good. Let him tell It
"This girl came to me well recom
mended, and when I dictated a test
letter, I found her extremely rapid
and accurate. So I employed her on
the spot She fell right in with the
work, and I decided that I had found
a treasure. But on the third day she
gave me a Bhock.
"I was dictating an opinion In a com
plicated infringement suit, and it was
very important that it should be ac
curate in every word and phrase.
This was the third draft I had writ
ten. In fact. At one place I inter
rupted myself and said to the steno
grapher: "'Am I speaking too fast for you.
Miss Jackson? Are you getting my
words down correctly?'
" 'Oh, I'm getting them all right'
she answered, smiling. 'And you
don't speak nearly as fast as I can
take. I'm about twenty words ahead
of you now!' "
"There's such a thing as being too
good." Cleveland Plain Dealer.
Good Model.
He was somewhat eaten up with a
mistaken consciousness of his own
importance, and when he was making
his great speech in the Muddlecombe
mock parliament, he noted that one
of the local pressmen appeared to
be sketching him. When the "house"
adjourned he buttonholed the artist
"I believe aw you were aw
sketching me; isn't that so aw?" he
inquired.
"That Is so," replied the artist.
"Well aw would you aw tell
me what noospaper you aw repre
sent aw?"
"I don't represent any newspaper,"
answered the artist. "I design comic
postcards." Tidbits.
Ostracism.
The ostracism was a way the Greeks
had of getting rid of "undesirable cit
izens" of note. The people wrote the
names of those they most suspected
upon small shells; these were put In
an urn or a box and presented to the
senate. Upon a scrutiny of them he
whose name was oftenest found was
sentenced by the senate to banish
ment Six thousand votes were re
quired to make the ostracism lawful.
Sometimes the system worked to tbe
detriment of the state, as now and
then a good man was banished by the
spite of his enemies, but generally tbe
ostracism was a good thing and saved
the state much trouble and dan
ger. Remembered by Their Deeds.
Who thinks of Milton as blind or
of Beethoven as deaf or of Darwin
an invalid? What they accomplished
was so great that their personal In
firmities are for the moment forgot
ten in the sense of their achieve
ments. Tbe Christian Register.
When She's Asleep.
He Grace is a rarely beautiful girt
She(sweetly) Very rarely, Indeed.
blamed auction be hears of, since
his palsy got so bad. You see, he sits
there and bobs his poor old head and
them sharp auctioneers knock down
to him everything they can't sell to
anybody else, claiming he bid on It
And it kind o flatters the old man to
think he is back In the hooraw of bus
iness life again, and so they make it
stick."
When Doves Disagree.
"What's the latest among suffra
gists?" "Mrs. Wallaby called Mrs. Wombat
a deliberate and unqualified fibber."
"Dear me, have women come to
that? What happened next?"
"Then they both cried, kissed and
made up, and we all went to a bar
gain matinee."
His Thought
She Don't you think this dress is
very becoming to me?
He I'm thinking of the bill which
will be coming to uie.
MADE LIFE A TRAGEDY
WOMAN'S SUFFERING WHEN 8HE
HAS TO ADOPT GLASSES.
Everything 8eems Changed for ths
Worse, and Her Consolations Are
Few Sly Scrutiny a Thing
of the Past ,,
I wear glasses! It's positively trag
ic, I look so wise and owl-like. It
was bad enough to have an intellec
tual nose, but with intellectual eyes
as well I am hopeless. None but in
significant men like wise-looking wom
en. Be capable, but look incapable It
you want to be a success. These little
windows to my soul reveal what I
for so long have attempted to conceal.
How shall I ever adjust myself to this
reorientation is a problem.
With a coy upward glance at my
next to best young man, who Is tall,
I meet the top of my glasses Instead
of two fond eyes and feel foolish; with
a coquettish side glance I strike a
wide reflection and feel awkward. I
will have to get a short man so I can
look straight ahead; but I don't like
short men.
A sly scrutiny of my neighbor's
gown is no longer possible. I must
turn and boldly stare or remain ab
solutely Ignorant whether the embroi
dery is hand or machine made. Never,
never more will I see with my shoul
ders. My head will bob up and down,
to the right and to the deft, but
goodby to the sly-sneaky glance with
which one takes in a roomful and yet
remains poised and unconscious.
The week under belladonna, when
all was dim and blurred, brought with
it a realization of what actual blind
ness must be and a resolution to read
to those unfortunate creatures so af
flicted when my own sight was re
stored. How my letters piled up during that
week! Mother kindly offered to read
them to me, but I didn't think it nice
to have other people's letters read.
Just fancy Mother reading aloud,
"Sweetheart, what magic spell have
you cast about me? I live in a dream
and I tread on air," or "Madam, kindly
send us your check for J95 for the
gown purchased two months ago," and
you had only owned up to fifty! No,
It certainly is not the proper thing to
have letters read to you.
The one consolation for that bella
donna week was that I had all the
mending and darning done without
a murmur. The family thought it
strange that I could find all those
rents and holes in my garments with
such poor sight, but I said my sense
of touch was becoming accentuated.
For a few days I thought I was get
ting good lookingi My complexion
took on a soft." velvety appearance and
I was beginning to beam like a boauty
and have an nggravatlngly self-satisfied
air; but when I put on my glasses,
which magnify about five times. I
rushed to mother and asked her if she
was sure I hadn't the smallpox, ev
erything looked so big and people
seemed so coarse with large bands
and feet. I wouldi.'t take some lovely
shoes I had ordered because they
uiade my foot look so large; but while
I was looking down at them my
glasses fell off and the foot returned
to its normal size, bo I consented to
accept them. Now in purchasing
pearls, diamonds and such I always re
move my glasses. Exchange.
The Queen and Fancy Dress Costume.
Queen Mary, as Is now well known.
In the old country, has sternly disap
proved of some of the costumes worn
by ladies of the court at recent fancy
dress balls. One remark related by
one of her majesty's ladles-ln-waltlng,
is delicious. The queen was sliown a
photograph of Lord and Lady at
one of these functions.
"Oh, yes," was her majesty's reply,
"mo3t Interesting, I am sure. By the
way, which Is bis lordship?"
The costume of her ladyship may
be imagined.
Test of Sobriety,
Many shibboleths have been devised
for testing Bobrlety. George Meredith,
who doubtless could have evolved
some wonderful examples, had he
chosen, calls them "olnometers, or
methods of determining the condition
of man, according to the degrees of
wine or beer in him." One of the
mo.it snarcful of these Is the sentence,
"Give James Grimes gilt gig-whip,
and a cup of coffee from a copper cof
fee pot." London Chronicle.
Man Prayed for Associates.
In protest against the refusal of
the Winchester board of guardians to
deal with the case of a widow already
under the care of the relieving officer,
Stephen Bull, a member, twice knelt
down and prayed for divine guidance
for the board. When a suspension of
the Bitting was ordered he called the
members "heathen dogs," and fell on
his knees and again prayed In a loud
rolce as they left the room. London
Mall.
It is usually those who strain at
other people's gnats who swallow
their own camels wjth ease,. .