The Brookings register. [volume] (Brookings, Brookings County, S.D.) 1903-1971, 1906-10-25

though he made much of his regret to
Miss Lees Aunt, and took his leave
with . proper aspect of detection.
And as he went sauntering back to-
ward the station whom should he see
but Truscott seated In his motor a
and tooling 1t slowly round the abrupt
curve from his own drive to the road
way.
Anal" said T~ruscott, waving N
hand toward him. Going to town?
Can I give you a lift?"
why, thanks" said Alexis. "but
I'm not dressed for it."
Jump in," cried Truscott. I'm no
a road hog. Ten miles IN hour is my
pace, and you don't need to dress to
drive with me. Besides, you can
travel sheltered II you like. Antoine
can drive. Let me offer you a cigar"
Alexis accepted the invitation, and
in another minute they were bowling
smoothly toward London.
I'VE had a rare sensation down
here on Saturday" said Truscott. 81
suppose you heard about it,"
Down here?" asked Alexis. 81
never read the papers. What was it,"
1T was a MURDER" Truscott an
swered. MY wife and | were sitting
in the grounds Saturday night just af-
ter dinner. Everything was calm and
peaceful as you can fancy. Moon ris-
ing, nightingale singing, typical tran
quill evening. Two fellows stopped in
the lane ten yards away and began to
talk in French. l read French, Of
course, but l don't follow it when it's
rapidly spoken. l made out that one
of them vas begging and that the
other was refusing him, and that was
about all. But suddenly n Of them
let out a fearsome yell, and when l
rushed out into the lane there a q
great burly fellow lying in the moon
light stone dead"
Heavens" said Alexis. What an
adventure"
The country was secured for
miles," Truscott went on. I'VE gave
"dlulllS at CNCl a oluNloh ~
every police station in the neighbor-
hood, but the assassin was gone and
had left no trace behind. Amongst
other things a newspaper man is a
sort of merchant in murder. I've dis
pensed a good deal Of criminal in
telligence in my time, but I was never
so near the actual fact before, and l
can assure you that It is really quite
a scary kind of thing. My wife ha1ht
got over it yet, and won't forget the
horror Of it for some time, I'm afraid"
who was the murdered man."
Alexis asked.
Mystery" said Truscott. Pure
mystery. It's the most amazing thing
in modern life that a man can drop
out of existence like that and not be
missed. People are always disappear
ing and being sought for, and lost in
darkness. But here's a man MUIR
dered at ones door, the fact adver-
tised in a thousand journals the world
over, the dead mans photograph cir
c,llated broadcast by the illustrated
papers, and not a soul found to identi-
fly him. Now hal man must have
lived a curious isolation. / made out
that he had come down by train from
London. Scores Of people must have
seen him, unless he had the gift Of
fern-seed. He needn't have been long
in London, of course, and he may have
been the merest bird Of passage, but
it's an odd thing that nobody comes
forward to say, That's So and So"
YES" Alexis assented. IT'S very
odd"
This" said Truscott, drawing forth
a pocketbook and searching among its
contents, lis the photograph we print
ed OF him IN the Record. It's a strik-
ing likeness, and I don't think anybody
who had known the man could fail to
recognize him from it."
Alexis took the photograph from
Truscott's hand and looked at 1t. He
gave ever so little a start when his
glance first fell upon it, but Truscott
was setting the contents Of his pocket
book in order, and did not notice.
When he looked up Alexis was study
ing the face with an air Of interest.
The body Of the murdered man lay
upon a table, and to the waist 1t was
covered with a sheet which had APP
parently been turned down from the
face by the photographer. The eyes
were closed, and the nan looked
asleep. There was nc pain or passion
In his aspect. Alexis turned the little
picture sideways so as to set the re-
cumbent figure upright, and sat look
ing at 1t for a long time with his head
thoughtfully on n side.
Eyes," he said at last, handing 1t
back again; 1T looks strangely life
like, don't you think? It's a character
istic face. There's a sort Of vulgar
force in 1t. One wouldn't have liked
to have had that man for q master.
You wouldn't have cared to feel that
you were in his power. Look at the
mouth and jaw; very pitiless. don't
you think?"
@M'vcs" aaid Truscotf "You'ro n