The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1898-07-08


H. pecrcd into the fire, and put hi
feet upon the fender. + ..lon lay hacl
and stare Il at the crnuched Ii cure, hu
did not speak till some minutes hat
passed.
"Why do YOU live in his rooms"
Bartlett shrugged his shoulders.
IL can't help it,
Nv hat dye mean. Bartlctt!"
IL feel like it. can't get away
from here.
'Para|yz d in your mind. said Es
don to himself '.lIr was disagree
able old beast. But wonder who
killed him? Ito wonder that. Who
gained hy his te,,l.:?"
He spoke aloud, and Bartlett picked
up the pok' to stir he fire.
We'll, | gained 10y it. But it must
have been some one who hated him
eh?" he muttcrcd But there was nc
clue-no clue 1t was clean job
so you think, said Eydon, ''hut it
will come out some day
'Murdrr will out, eh?''
"Ayc," said Egdon.
"You've no logic, Egdon,' cried
Bartlett; ''the murders that are discov.
cred come out: but what of those that
don t?'
This one will" said Egdon; Shy
confession years hence, perhaps"
"No, it won't" said Bartlett. 1.-The
cleverest detectives failed, and I'm sure
they v ere wrong in all their theories;
and, as to confession, is there any need
to confess to the police?"
Edgon lighted his pipe.
"What's your theory, Bartlett? Tell
it us again"
Bartlett jumped up and turned the
gas down. Indeed. he turned it out
and lighted it again, with trembling
| fingers.
damn the light! Now. he was
found hcrc!"
He stood 10y the door.
"And had been stabbed through the
heart said Egdon.
with straight thrust" said Bart
lett, "the dagger being held like a
sword, which is the proper way to use
a knife
"Why?" asked f gdon.
because it gives the full length of
the weapon and arm" said Bartlett.
GLOW dye know
81 read it, years ago; no, just lately" /"
cried Bartlett; "and my theory is that
some one came in to see him and was
abused, brutally abused"
"Why abused? and why brutality"
because he was that kind of man.
cried Bartlett, "a hateful, unkind man
"A beast. I-loathed him myself
Egdon smiled and drank.
"Yes, and what them
''rhcn | should think the man who
killed him.
"The murdcrery'
"No, the man who killed him. said
Bartlett, irritably, "the man who killed
him went out and stayed outside the
door. Then, perhaps, Hawkins fol-
lowed him, not hearing the outer door
90; and, when this door opened into
the dark, the man who did it jumped
forward, and with one thrust killed
him.
"And them
"He just went away"
"Do you think he remembers it ard
is remorseful?' asked Egdon.
Bartlett shook his head impatientlv
"Why should he he rcmorsefuI?
Such a man as Hawkins ought to have
been killed. If he was an uncle of
mine, I'll say that
with such an uncle in your line |
wonder you are not more brutal than
you are said f ydon, smiling.
"Oh, you don't know me-" cried
Bartlett, quickly. "I'm little, but |
sometimes think | could handle other
things than pen and Il typewriter"
"Or talk into Il phonograph, eh?"
said Egdon.
Its conversation" said Bartlett.
"Otten | talk an article into that phono-
graph, just to hear my own voice.
And, do you know, | once talked bit
to myself close to it, and the devil of a
thing picked it up"
"Ies," said Eg,lon. 1T must have
startled you when you set the thing
going
IL thought it was the devil; my own
s,ul got loose cried Bartlett, "and |
made it squeak it over and over again. :"
Make it squeak for me-
Bartlett slipped a cylinder on to the
machine and set it going.
An css y on muytlcr.' squeaked the
phonograph. "Snre be Ouincey's