The Portland daily press., 1894-01-27
HIS LAST CHANCE.

he believed. He was failing again.
He said it was i'll luck. 1t had so hap
pened that all the important jobs that had
fallen in his way had been nuts impossible
to mysteries that no earthly genius
could solve. He had always been unlucky,
unlucky, he said, fighting desperately
against the whisper of a conviction that
he might be without the capability of the
ideal detective.
Then, when he had begun almost to de-
spair,. something had occurred, three
weeks ago now, which Detective Sharp
had fancied might at last be the making
of him.
He had been sent down to Leeds in
Yorkshire in answer to the special request
of Mr.. David Lindsay to inquire into the
murder of Mr.. Lindsay's young wife.
Twenty seven years ago John Sharp
and David Lindsay had been comrades in
the Scotch highlands. They had taken a
sort of VOW of perpetual friendship, he had
remembered with some amusement and
some half bitter regret for the times when
they were SO frankly sentimental. After
that they had correspondent for awhile and
then had lost sight of each other.
Detective Sharp knew that David had
risen to position of prosperity in his bust
ness; that he was the head of large mill
in the suburbs of Leeds and the owner of
a house at Kirk Lees, little village about
an hours drive from Leeds, but he had
not known until he had heard of the MUIR
der at Kirk Lees that David was married.
When he had arrived at the place, the
detective had heard all about the murder.
LIE remem bered now that in the first few
days of his stay under his old friends roof
he had scarcely given a minute of time to
any recollection of their old friendship.
He had at once made himself master of
the circumstances of the murder, which
Mr.. Lindsay had given him as follows:
On the day of the murder Lindsay had
driven into Leeds, as usual. Mrs. Lindsay
had been at home all day. In the evening
about O'Clock Mr.. Cyril Holt, an old
friend of Mrs. Lindsay's-an old admirer,
too-had called to see her. He had staid
about half an hour, and then one of the
servants had seen Mrs. Lindsay let him
out at the front door.
He had set off at run to catch the 8:34
train at the local station. The station
master deposed to his having caught the
train and to its being pupctual, SO that
there were only four minutes between his
leaving Mrs. Lindsay and reaching the
station, and d man would have to run very
fast to cover the distance in that time.
Mrs. Lindsay returned to the drawing
room after seeing Holt off. She often sat
there alone in the cleaning, waiting for
her husbands return, and when he had
returned on that night, at $50, he had en-
tered the house through the open drawing
room window and had found his wife dead,
stabbed to the heart with a steel dagger
that SIZE had worn in her hair, and stab
bed, moreover, in such neat way, just
above the left breast, that the wound had
bled inwardly, only few drops of blood
oozing out to the surface.
1t was impossible to lay the guilt on
Holt, who yet seemed the most likely. Mr..
Lindsay's own alibi was the most perfect,
for the time of leaving Leeds in his
brougham was deposed to, and it would
have been impossible for him to have
reached Kirk Lees by 9 O'Clock, the hour
at which the murder had been committed.
Nothing could be made of the two serv-
ants, who had been chatting in the kitchen
from the time when one of them had seen
Holt leave until the moment that the mas
ter's violent ringing of the bell had
brought them to the scene of the murder.
The only possible surmise that could be
formed was that some unknown person
had entered the open drawing room win
dow and committed the crime and then
got safely away.
The soil underneath the drawing room
window had been carefully scratched over
as if to destroy the prints of footmarks.
This was what Detective Sharp had
learned on arriving at Kirk Lees three
weeks ago, and this was all that he knew
now. He was in despair, and so was his
host.
Detective Sharp had suspected for long
| time that his reputation had been at a
very low par in the sight Of the authorities
| of Scotland Yard. He had even begun to
| feel that possibly the choice lay for him
between shortly leaving the service that he
loved or being asked to leave.
| 1t had never happened in all the former
| course of his professional career that any
| special request for his services had been
sent to the Yard. Now that this had been
the case there was only needed success in
| the task for him to reinstate himself in the
| good opinion of his official superiors, and,
better still, of himself.
| Yet three weeks had gone by now since
| the date OF his arrival at Kirk Lees, and
| he was again on the eve of owning to fail
| lire.
| He had told his old friend how he stood
in his profession, and Lindsay had offered
him berth in a manufacturing concern
that he owned in Australia if the detective
really elected to leave the service. They
were sitting in the drawing room this even
ing, discussing the murder, as usual.
II thought of little experiment last
night that 1 should like to try, David, y
Sharp said. II don't suppose it will give
us any clew, but it might. That is to
hypnotize you, and let you go through the
scene of discovering the body again.
why, what good could that do?" asked
Lindsay quickly.
II don't say that it could do any, but /
should like to try it.''
'Ali right. L want to write note first
though. You can wait minute?'
''Ah, of course"
The detective sat watching his friend as
the note was written. Mr.. Lindsay had
lighted wax candle and placed it on the
eser1toire in front of him. In it's light he
could be seen as the wreck of what haC
been burly, strongly marked Scot thret
or four weeks ago