The Spokane press. [volume] (Spokane, Wash.) 1902-1939, 1909-08-31

her morning to cleaning my rooms
and preparing my breakfast.
Some friends did call" l an
swered, pouring out the coffee.
friends! Good Samaritans
should call. 'em," Mrs.. Holdings de-
clared, IF so be as they left all the
things I found here, this morning.
Why, there's q whole chicken, to
say nothing Of tongue and biscuits,
and butter, and relishes. and SAVIOR
les, the names Of which isn't often
heard In this part of the world.
There's wine, too, with gold paper
round the top. champagne wine, l
do believe"
would you mind seeing to my
room now, Mrs. Hollings?" asked.
II am going out early this morn
ing"
I finished my breakfast in haste.
and catching up my hat escaped out
Of doors.
The sky was blue and cloudless.
The whole land, saturated still with
the fast receding sea, seemed to
CLEAN and glitter with q strange
iridescence. There was salt In the
very atmosphere.
About 200 yards past my cottage
the road took sharp turn inland,
leaving the coast abruptly on &C.
count Of the greater stretch of
marshland beyond, It was toward
this bend that / walked, and, curl
ously enough, with every step /
took some inexplicable sense of
nervous excitement grew stronger
and stronger within me. The fresh
morning air and the sunlight
seemed powerless to dissipate for a
moment the haunting terror of last
night. It was a real face which I
had seen pressed against the win
dow, and where had Ray been when
he returned with sand-clogged boots
and the telltale seaweed upon his
trousers? And later on, had 1
dreamed 1t, or had there really been
a cry? It came back to me with
horrible distinctness. It was q real
cry, the cry of q man in terror for
his life. l stopped short in the
road and wiped my damp forehead.
What q fool / was! The night was
over. Here is the garish day there
was surely nothing to fear! Never
theless, I, who had started out
thirsting only to breathe the fresh
salt air, now walked along with
stealthy nervous footsteps, looking
all the time from left to right, start
ing at the sight of dark log on
the sands, terrified at broken
buoy which had floated up one of
the creeks. Some fear had come
oyer me which / could not shake
off. was afraid of what might
see.
So walked to the bend of the
road. Here. In case the turn might
be too sharp for some to- see at
night, a dozen yards or so Of white
posts and railing bordered the
marshes. l leaned over them for
moment and in that moment saw q
sight which turned my limbs into
dead weights, which drew the color
even from my lips, and set my heart
beating with fierce quick throbs. |
Half in the creek and half out, not
dozen yards from the road, was
the figure of a man. Part of his
head and shoulders lay beneath the
water, his body and legs and out |
stretched arms were upon the
marsh. And although never before |
had looked upon death, I knew |
very well that I was face to face |
with 1t now.
How long 1t was before I moved |
I cannot tell. At last, however. I |
climbed the palings, Jumped at It's
narrowest point smaller creek,
and with slow footsteps approach
ed the dead man. Even when I
stood by his side dared not touch
him. dared not turn him around
to see his face. I saw that he was
of middle size, fairly we'll dressed,
and as some blown sand had drift.
ed over his boots ano ankles,
knew that he had been there for
some hours. There was blood up
on his collar and the fingers OF his
right hand we're tightly clenched.
l told myself that I was a coward,
and l set my teeth. must lift his
head from the water, and cover
him up with my own coat while
fetched help. But when stopped
down deadly faintness came over
me. My fingers were palsied with
horror. had a sudden Irresistible
that I could not touch
him. There was something between
us more potent than the dread of
q dead man-something between us
two. the dead man and the living.
staggered away and ran reeling
to the road, plunging blindly
the creek.
About 200 yards further down the
road was a small lodge at one of
the entrances of Rowchester. It
was toward this I ran. The door
was closed, and beat upon 1t. The
woman who answered it stared at
me strangely.
IT'S Mr.. Ducaine, isn't it," she
why. sakes alive!
what's wrong. sir?"
"A dead man In the marshes"
faltered.
"Lordy me! whereabouts, sir?
she inquired.