The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1901-11-03

have much done to it. On the side fac
high that but little else could be seen. L
went past at the SloWest pace that was
prudent, scanning it as closely as [ dared.
With such willy adversary one could
not be too cautious. The Grey house had
not a neighbor for half a mile, and there
was very little traffic along the road.
Certainly, if seclusion were desired, he
had come to the right place.
And what was 1 to think of the acct
dent? That was feature in the case for
which L was not prepared, and it puzzled
me. Was it genuine or was it not?
There seemed no ground for supposfng
that it had been arranged for my benefit
to battle me or put me off the scent. 1t
had occurred before I had made a move
ment, and besides, / had no reason to
believe that Mr.. Schlich was even aware
of my existence. l had never been mixed
up with him before
Surprising | accepted the accident as
genuine, then what aspect did the affair
assume? Schlith, confined to his bed
with broken limb, could certainly not
take an active part in any mischief that
was brewing. But / remembered what
the chief had said, that it was probably
from the least likely quarter that trouble
would come. Though the arch-plotter
might be shut up in one room, his brain
could go over the world. ne could form
his plans and give his orders almost as
well in his present condition as though
nothing We're the matter He had, no
doubt, more than one trusty agent, or
with secret code and the penny post he
could dispense with even the risk of
go-between His accident might, indeed
be of assistance to him, as affording him
an excuse for shutting himself up if he
wished to do so.
1 reached home restless and uneasy,
undecided what to do.
A day or two passed, but brought me
no light l went for long, lonely rides,
as was my habit, continuing to pass the
Grey house either going or returning, but
/ could see and hear nothing. 1t was as
silent as a house of the dead. l pictured
the ruthless master weaving his webs in
the silence and darkness, like a human
spider, hungry for lives, and l ragged in
wardly, because not one single thread
found its way to my hands. I made eau
tious inquiries of my friend, the landlady,
and at the village postoffice, but all l
learnt was that Mr.. Schiick was progress
ing favorably, and that he had very few
letters. If Sir Edward had not been so
sure that he was plotting mischief, I
might have thought that he was here
really only for rest and change of air,
his existence appeared so harmless.
There was no disguise about him, not
even in his name. If it were not the
frankneSS of innocence, it must be the
audacity of guilt
l had gone for a long ride one even
ing, and it was getting dark when ]
found myself again on the road to Grey
T nh; fI,>
nearest residence to Mr.. Schlich's, which
also stood in well wooded grounds, and
was occupied had heard-by scientist
of some reputation and his only son. A
piece of ragged common land ran by the
side of the road here for more than a
mile, and I was riding quietly along on
the grass, for both Black Bess and were
tired, when / noticed a cart drawn up on
the other side of the road The horse
had on nose-bag, and the tail Of the
cart was turned towards little door In
the garden wall of The Films.
1 was little curious as to what that
cart could contain that it should be I'M
loaded so late at side door, and, half
unconsciously. l stopped a moment to
look. AS 1 paused two men came out,
and l heard one of them say: Il
How many have We got?' and there
was sound like the striking of match.
His companion uttered sharp excla-
nation, and stopped him with a gesture
of alarm.
Are you mad?' he said. do you want
to. blow US all to blazes?'
There was muttered reply, and the
man began rolling something towards
him down the cart. 1t was too dark for
me to see distinctly, but could distin-
guish the shape of barrel He lifted il
on to his shoulders and carried 1t through