The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1902-08-31

Believer and Vixen Tor. Over the
wide expanse there was no sound
and no movement. One great
grey bird, a gull Or curlow, scared
aloft in the blue Heaven. He and
seemed to be the only living things
between the huge arch of the sky
and the desert beneath it. The barren
scene, the sense of loneliness, and the
mystery and urgency of my task all
struck chill into my heart. The
boy was nowhere to be seen. But
down beneath me in a cleft of the
hills there was a circle of the old
stone huts, and in the middle of them
there was one which retained sufficient
roof to act as a screen against the
weather. My heart leaped within me
as I saw it. This must be the burrow
where the stranger lurked. At last
my foot was on the Threshold of his
hiding place-his secret was within
my grasp.
AS l approached the hut, walking as
warily as Stapleton would do when
with poised net he drew near the set
tied butterfly l satisfied myself that
the place had indeed been used as q
habitation. A vague pathway among
the boulders led to the dilapidated
opening which served as a door. All
was silent within. The unknown
might be lurking there, or he might be
prowling on the moor. My nerves
tingled with the sense of adventure.
Throwing aside my cigarette, / closed
my hand upon the butt of my revolver
and, walking swiftly up to the door,
/ looked in. The place was empty.
But there was ample signs that I
had not come upon a false scent. This
was certainly where the man lived.
Some blankets rolled in waterproof
lay upon that very stone slab upon
which neolithic man had once slum-
bered. The ashes of a fire were heap
ed in rude CRATE. Beside it lay some
cooking utensils and a bucket half
full of water. A litter of empty tins
showed that the place had been oc-
cupied for some time, and 1 saw, as my
eyes became accustomed to the cheq-
uered light, pannikin and a half
full bottle of spirits standing in the
corner. In the middle Of the hut fiat
stone served the purpose of a table
and upon this stood a small cloth bum
dle-the same, no doubt, which 1 had
seen through the telescope upon the
shoulder of the boy. 1t contained a
loaf of bread, a timed tongue, and two
tins Of preserved peaches. AS / set
it down again, after having examined
it, my heart leaped to see that beneath
it there lay a sheet of paper with writ
ing upon it. I raised it. and this was
what l read, roughly scrawled in pen
Gil:
"Dr. Watson has gone to Coombe
Tracey"
For a minute I stood there with the
paper in my hands thinking out the
meaning of this curt message. 1t was
1, then, and not Sir Henry, who was
being logged by this secret man. He
had not followed me himself, but he
had set an agent-the boy perhaps
upon my track, and this was his re-
port. Possibly I had taken no step
since had been upon the moor which
had not been observed and repeated.
Always there was this feeling of an
unseen force a fine net drawn round
us with infinite skill and delicacy,
holding us SO lightly that it was
only at some supreme moment that
one realized that one was indeed en-
tangled in its meshes.
If there was one report there might
be others, SO / looked round the hut
in search of them. There was no
trace, however, of anything of the
kind, nor could 1 discover any sign
which might indicate the character or
intentions of the man who lived in
this singular place, save that he must
be of Spartan habits, and cared little
for the comforts of life. When I
thought of the heavy rains and looked
at the gaping roofs I understood how
strong and immutable must be the
purpose which had kept him in that
inhospitable abode. Was he our ma
lignant enemy, or was he by chance
our guardian angel? l swore that /
would not leave the hut until | knew.
Out side the sun was sinking low and
the west was blazing with scarlet and
gold. Its reflection was shot back in
ruddy patches by the distant pools
which lay amid the great Grimpen
Mire. There were the two towers of
Baskerville Hall, and there a distant
blur of smoke which marked the VIII
lage of Grimpen. Between the two,
behind the HILL was the house of the
Stapletons. All was sweet and mel
low and peaceful in the golden evening
light, and yet as / looked at them my
soul shared none Of the peace of ma
ture, but quivered at the vagueness.
and the terror of that interview which
every instant was bringing nearer.
With tingling nerves, but fixed pur-
pose, I sat in the dark recess of the
hut and waited with sombre patience
for the coming of its tenant.
And then at last / heard him. Far
away came the sharp clink of a boot
striking upon a stone. Then another
and yet another coming nearer and
nearer. / shrank back into the dark
est corner, and cooked the pistol in
my pocket, determined not TO discover
myself until I had an opportunity az
seeing something Of the stranger.
There was q long pause which showed
that he had stopped. Then once more
the footsteps approached and a ehadow
fell across the opening Of the hut
1T rs lovely evening. my dear
Watson" said a weil-known voice
Il really think that you VIII be more
comfortable outside than IN"
ITO BE Continued Next GundayJ