The Kalispell bee. [volume] (Kalispell, Mont.) 1900-192?, 1902-02-12

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HE HELD DOWN THE LAMP TO THE FLOOR.
whipped out his lens and tape meas
ure, and hurried about the room on his
knees, measuring, comparing, examin-
ing, with his long thin nose only few
inches from the planks, and his beady
eyes cleaning and deep-set like those
of bird. So swift, silent and furtive
were his movements, like those of a
trained bloodhound picking out a
scent, that could not but think what
terrible criminal he would have
made had he turned his energy and
sagacity against the law, instead of ex-
erting them in its defense. AS he
hunted about, he kept muttering to
himself, and finally he broke out into
loud crow of delight.
''We are certainly in luck" said he.
eve ought to have very little trouble
now. Number One has had the misfor-
tune to tread in the creosote. You can
see the outline of the edge of his small
foot here at the side of this evil-smel-
ing mess. The carboy has been cracked,
you see, and the stuff has leaked out"
''What then?' / asked.
why, we have got him, that's all, !"
said he. Il know a dog that would
follow that scent to the worlds end.
If pack can track trailed herring
! across a shire, how far can a spe cially-
trained hound follow SO pungent a
smell as this? 1t sounds like sum in
the rule of three. The answer should
give US the But halloo! here are the
accredited representatives of the law"
Heavy steps and the clamor of loud
voices were audible from below, and
the hall door shut with loud crash.
Before they come" said Holmes,
Just put your hand here on this poor
fellows arm, and here on his leg. What
do you feel?"
The muscles are as hard as board"
| answered.
quite so. They are in state of ex-
IRENE contraction, far exceeding the
usual rigor mortis. Coupled with this
distortion of the face, this Hippocratic
smile, or 'risus sardonicus,' as the old
writer's called it, what conclusion would
it suggest to your mind?''
Death from some powerful vegeta-
BILE alkaloid," | answered-'s some
strychninelike substance which would
produce tetanus''
THAT was the idea which occurred
to me the instant / saw the drawn
muscles of the face. On getting into
the room at once looked for the
means by which the poison had entered
the system. AS you saw, discovered
thorn which had been driven or shot
with no great force into the scalp.
| You observe that the part struck was
that which would be turned towards
the hole in the ceiling if the man were
erect in his chair. Now examine this
thorn"
took it up gingerly and held it in
the light of the lantern. It was long,
sharp and black, with a glazed look
near the point as though some gummy
substance had dried upon it. The
blunt end had been trimmed and
rounded off with knife.
us this an English thorn?" he asked.
mo, it certainly is not"
with all these data you should be
able to draw some just inference. But
here are the regulars; so the auxiliary
forces may beat retreat"
As he spoke, the steps which had
been coming nearer sounded loudly on
the passage, and a very stout, portly
man in gray suit strobe heavily into
the room. He was redfaced, burly and
plethoric, with pair of very small
twinkling eyes which looked keenly
. no,
pouches He was closely followed by
an inspector in uniform, and by the
still palpitating Thaddeus Sholto
''Here's a business!" he cried, in a
muffied husky voice. Here's pretty
business! But who are all these? Why,
the house seems to be as full as a rab-
bit-warren."
81 think you very much recollect me,
Mr., Athelney JONES'" said Holmes,
quietly.
"Why, of course I do!' he wheezed.
Its Mr. Sherlock Holmes, the theo-
rist. Remember you! I'll never forget
how you lectured us all on causes and
differences and effects in the Bishop
gate jewel case. It's true you set us on
the right track; but you'll own now
that it was more by good luck than
good guidance.
st was piece of very simple rea'
soning."
"Oh, come, now, come! Never be
ashamed to own up. But what is al
this? Bad business! Bad business
Stern facts here-no room for theories
How lucky that happened to be out al
/ Norwood over another easel I was al