The Idaho Springs siftings-news., 1912-12-28


.neih through again slowly, this time
~ my sef' fixing each sentence indel-
10Y IN mind as | proceeded But be-
iore had quite come to the end, my
NolI Iahlon was speaking
| Nel!@' he said And the light
ch'tHuess of his tone was not only in
marked contrast with his grave alb
soFptlon OF a moment before, but in
Earring dlscord with my own present
MOOD Well? What do you make of
| them"
My annoyance found voice in my re-
sponsc
! cameron" | begged. for Gods
sake he serious. This doesn't seem
10 me exactly a matter to be merry
over. l don't want to alarm you. but
| sofhthow | feel that these" and I
| shook the cracking, wax-like sheets,
'hat these cannot be utterly ignored"
but they are anonymous" he re-
tortea, not unjustly. Anonymous
letters should be burned and forgot
! ten
| iheTe are anonymous letters and
| anonymous letters" | gave him back,
III TURN, These are OF an unusually
| convincing character. Besides. they
! Aud then | paused. l wished to
tell him of that elusive encompass
iheht OF sinister portent which had so
| impressed me; of that malign forebod-
| ing beyond anything warranted by the
| words, but | stumbled in the effort at
expression. Besides" l started again,
| and ended Ia ha
look and the feel of them"
| And now he was as serious as
| could wish.
All he cried, leaning forward
I again and reaching for the letters.
You have experienced it. too And
you cant explain it, any more than /?
1t Is something that grips you when
you read, like an icy hand, hard as
steel, in a glove OF velvet. It's al
| ways between the lines. reaching out,
and nothing you can do will stay II.
l thought at first l imagined it. but
| the oftener l have read, the more
have felt its clutch. The letters Of
themselves are nothing What do you
suppose | care for yelled threats of
| that sort? I'm big enough to take
care of myself. Clyde. I've met peril
In about every possible guise, in every
part of the world, and I've never real
ly known fear. But this-this is diff
ferent. And the worst OF it is, don't
know why. / can't for the life OF me
make out what 1t Is I'm afraid Of"
He had gone very pale. and his
strong. capable hands. which toyed
xlyi ha lptt
twitched in excess of nervous tension.
Then. with finger pointing to the
ink-stain at the bottom OF one OF the
sheets, he asked:
What does that look like to you?"
/ took the letter from him. and
scrutinizing the rude figure with con-
centrated attention for a moment. ven
tured the suggestion that it somewhat
resembled boat
"A one-masted vessel, square
rigged," he added. in elucidation.
Exactly"
Now turn 1t upside down"
did SO.
Now what do you see?"
The head Of a man wearing a he'll
met" The resemblance was very
marked.
"A straw helmet, apparently" he
amplified, such as is worn in the
Orient And yet the profile is not that
of an Oriental. Now, look at your yes
sci again" And once more | reversed
the sheet of paper
Can 1t be Chinese junk" asked
ut might be sailing proa or ban
ca" he returned, such as they use in
the South Pacific. But whatever 1t is,
l can't understand what it has to do
with me or I with it."
was still studying the black daub.
when he said:
But you haven't told me about the
handwriting What can you read OF
the character of the writer?"
Nothing" answered. promptly.
1T is curious penmanship. as you say
heavy and regular and upright. with
some strangely formed letters: es
pecially the rs and the ps; but it
tells me nothing"
But | thought" he began.
THAT l boasted? So did When
one writes as one habitually writes it
is very easy These letters, however.
are not in the writer's ordinary hand.
The writing is as artificial as though
you, for example. had printed note
in Roman characters. Were they ad-
dressed in the same hand?"
Precisely"
What was the post-mark?'
They bore no post-mark. That is
another strange circumstance. Yet
they were with my mail How they
came there have been unable to as
certain. The people at the post office
naturally deny that they delivered
anything unstamped, as these We're:
and Barrie, the lad who fetches the
letters, has no recollection of these
Nor has Checkabeedy. who sorts the
mail here at the house. But each OF