The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1912-09-05
IT'S dainty pocke. It boosted NO AiS
tinguishinR mark.

tinguishing mark.
He stumbled hurriedly from the
room and down the stairs. returning
to the study where Sypher's body
lay; tortured by mounting fears. he
stood and looked blankly about him.
at a loss where next to turn, II almost
preternaturally alive to every sound
or sight that might afford him a clue.
/. . He fought against a suspicion
that crawled like a viper in his brain.
Had he, after all, been deceived In
Sypher's niece, Miss Pynsent? Had
that innocent charm of hers been a
thing assumed, a cloak for criminal du-
plicity? Had she In reality been Des
Trebes' accomplice? Had those clear
and limpid eyes of youth, all through
that voyage been looking forward to
as this? Could she have afforded the
Frenchman the aid he needed to con-
summate his chosen crime?
For he was now ready to believe Des
Trebes the prime move in this terri
BILE affair; he no longer entertained
q oAlSu vi ia lhdI hlo ShOAhJ oH
travelled with him from Calcutta un-
der the disguise C. 10 Hyeres." And
he believed the maa sad planned this
thing far ahead; else would he have
surely taken SONS overt step to pre-.
vent O'Rourke from delivering the
ruby to Sypher. He OWNED acute!y
that, despairing of any further nc
tempt to win the jewel from him, Des
Trebes had turned his wits to the task
Of stealing it from Sypher; somebody
naturally much less to be feared than
the ~adventurer.
But ON the other hand, IL the girl
had not been Des Trebes' assistant
what had become of her? And what
of her guest-the lady one of whose
initials was b?
1t was not inconsistent with Des
Trebes' whole-hearted villaipy that he
should employ a gang of thugs suffi-
GENTLY large to overpower and make
away with bodily and in a body Miss
Pynsent, her guest and the servants.
Great God!" cried O'Rourke.
IF it be in truth my wife,"
Without presage a thin but imper@
tive Naturalization broke upon the
silence of the house of death. O'Rourke
jumped az if shot. Somewhere in one
of the other rooms a telephone bell
was ringing. 1t ceased. leaving a
strident stiffness; but before he could
move to find the instrument and an
swer the call, there rose a second time
that moaning sob which first he had
attributed to an impofsible source.
then, in the turmoil Of his thoughts,
had forgotten.
He waited, listening intently. The
telephone called again and again sub
sided. Then a third time he beard the
groan, more faint than before, but suf-
ficiently loud to suggest it's source.
He moved warily toward the windows
and out upon the veranda-hounded
by the telephone. But thas would
have to wait; here was a more ur.
gent matter to his hand. Between the
long, insistent rings the moaning was
again audible; and this time he To-
Gated it accurately. 1t came from the
lawn, neal the edge of the veranda.
He stepped off carefully. but almost
stumbled over the body of a man who
lay there, huddled and moaning.
And another!" whispered the ad-
venturer, awed. Faith, this Pool OF
Flame . y"
He was at once completely Mortified
and utterly dumbfounded. Nothing he
had come upon within the bungalow
seemed to indicate that there had been
anything in the nature of a struggle
prior to the assassination of Sypher.
He had up to this moment considered
it nothing but a old-blooded and cow
ardly murder; the man had apparent
ly been struck down from behind in to-
tai ignorance of his danger. O'Rourke
had deduced that Sypher had risen
from the desk to put the jewel in his
safe: and that while he was so en-
gagged h assassin, till hen skulking
outside the long windows and waiting
for a moment when his victims back
should be turned, had entered and
struck. But how could he recon-
cile that hypothesis with this MAI who
lay weltering and at the point O: death
at the veranda edge?
Indeed, he could not do so. But
this victim, at least. was not yet dead;
If he had strength to moan, he might
yet be revived, at least temporarily.
Without delay, then, the freshman
grasped the man beneath the armpits.
and lifting him bodily TO the veranda.
dragged him into the library. Not I'M
til he placed him in the middle of the
floor. beneath the blare of the lamp
light, did O'Rourke have an oppor-
t,,nity to observe his features. But
nov as he dropped to his knees beside
the body, his wondering cry testified
to Immediate recognition.
The latest name to be inscribed on
the long and blood-stained death-roll
of the Pool of Flame was THAI of Paul
Maurice. vicomte des Trebes; or. If
there were life enough left in the
man to enable him to insist upOn his