Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-10-26

couple of clerks came along the pave
ment on the other side, their hands and
arms full of letters. Laverick hesitated.
He was never afterward able to account
for the impulse which prevented his call
ing out to them. Instead he lurked in
the shadows and watched them go by.
When he was sure that they had disap-
peared he bent once more over the body
of the murdered man. Already that hud-
dled-up heap was beginning to exercise a
namelesS and terrible fascination for him.
His first feelings of horror were mingled
now with an Unsuitable curiosity. What
manner of man was he? He was tall
and strongly built: fair-of almost fiorid
complexion. His clothes We're very shabby
and apparently ready-made. His mus
tache was upturned and his hair was
trimmed closer than is the custom among
Englishmen. Laverick stopped lower and
lower until he found himself almost on
his knees. There was something pro-
jecting from the man s pocket as though
it had been half snatched out-a large
portfolio Of brown leather. almost the size
of a satchel. Laverick drew 1t out, holding
1t in one hand while with firm fingers he
struck another match. Then, for the
first time, little Cry broke from his lips.
Both sides of the pocketbOOk We're filled
with bank notes. As his match fiickered
out he caught a glimpse of the figures in
the left-hand corner-fJO0!-great rolls of
them. Laverick rose gasping to his feet.
1t was a new Arabian Nights. this.-a
dream!-a continuation of the nightmare
which had threatened him all day! Or
was it, perhaps, the madness coming-the
madness which he had begun only an
hour or so ago to fear.
He walked into the gaslit streets. and
looked up and down. The mysterious
stranger had vanished. There was not
soul in sight. He clutched the rough
stone wall with his hands, he kicked the
pavement with his heels. There was no
doubt about it-everything around him
was real Most real of all was the fact
that within few feet of him lay muir
dered man, and that in his hands was
that brown leather pocketbook with it's
miraculous contents For the last time
Laverick retraced his steps and bent over
that huddled-up shape. One by one he
went through the other pockets. There
was a packet of Russian cigarettes: an
empty cardcase of chased silver and obvi-
ously of foreign workmanship: cigar
cite holder stained with much use. hut
Of the finest amber. with rich gold
mountings There was nothing else upon
the dead man. no means OF identification
of any sort. Laverick stood up, giddy,
half terrified with the thoughts that went
tearing through his brain. The pocket
book began TO burn his hand: he felt the
perspiration breaking out anew upon his
forehead Yet he never heSitated He
walked like a man in a dream. but his
footsteps We're steady and short. Delhi
erately and without any sign OF hurry he
made his way toward his offices. Ii
policeman had come in sight up or down
the street. he had decided to call him and
to acquaint him with what had happened.
1t was the one chance he held against
himself-the gamblers method OF decision.
perhaps, unconsciously arrived at. AS 1t
turned out, there was still not a soul in
sight Laverick opened the outer door
with his latchkey. let himself in and
closed it, Then he CROPPED his way
through the clerks office into his own
room. switched on the electric light and
once more sat down before his desk
He drew his shaded writing lamp to-
ward him and looked around with ner-
vousness wholly unfamiliar Then he
opened the pocketbook. drew out the roll
of bank notes and counted them. 1t was
curious that he felt no surprise at their
value Bank notes for five hundred
pounds are not exactly common, and yet
he proceeded with his task without the
slightest instinct of surprise Then he
leaned back in his chair. Twenty thou
sand pounds in Bank Of England notes!
There they lay on the table before him.
A man had died for their sake-another