The Hope pioneer. [volume] (Hope, N.D.) 1882-1964, 1912-12-26
z4
SABLE ~
BY nD1rrA
HORACE "~
HAZEI5TINE coexaeuz 1u,1 c1rauee ca.
-. HORACE
HAZELTINE

IlALIIllNI
periodical which aims to focus popu-
lar sentiment to a righteous view
point concerning matters Of national
and social import. For the time be-
ing my consideration of Cameron and
his strange problem was suspended.
Now and then the subject required to
me, dragged into the mental light on
the train of Evelyn Grayson: but al
most Immediately it was buried be-
meath a question Of editorial policy
or a debate regarding a contract for
white paper at an extortionate in
crease in price.
When. however, my business day
was ended, and I had boarded the
train for Greenwich, the whole in
volved enigma spread itself again
me. demanding attention. And
In the midst of it, dominating it,
stretching his great shadow over it
to the farthest limit, appeared that
frowsy red giant, Murphy, a mystery
within a mystery; for, though he
seemed to pervade. it, there was no
point at which l could discover him
quite touching it.
In vain l tried to detect a real CON
nection. I started with the letters
They bore nc single characteristic
mark of this uncouth creature. AS an
artist he might have devised the curl
Gus silhouette signature, but there
was something about that-some Gun.
ming, Inventive subtlety-which I
could not reconcile with the ogre I
had played upon, stung to anger and
aroused to curiosity.
That he could either have con-
eeived or executed the ruin of the
portrait I did not believe possible.
The conception, like the letters and
the signature, bore evidence of a
craftiness too fine for such as he; and
to fancy him, mammoth that he was,
stealing unobserved into Cameron's
stury. was to fancy the incredible.
And SO. though the impression of
intimate relationship persisted. l
could find no point of contact. closer
or more definite than through his
servants rife practice, which after
all might have been quite without mo-
tive.
There was little, therefore, in the
line Of reason, to convict Murphy of
any knowledge Of the matters which
had so disturbed US. And yet, as
have said, I felt in%tuitively that he
possessed an intimate acquaintance
with the whole affair.
At the Greenwich station, I found
my touring car waiting; my mother
in the tonneau. My chauffeur touched
his cap as I approached.
"You may drive, Francois" I said,
and I took the place at my mothers
side.
"You look tired, Philip" she an
nounced when I had kissed her. WAS
it very warm in the city," Her eyes
were ever quick to note inflnitesimal
changes in my appearance Of we'll
being.
"Not uncomfortable" I answered,
indulgently. II had a very busy day,
though. But I'm not the less fit be-
cause Of it."
I'VE have had some little excite
ment here" she fastened, eager to
give me the news. "Old Romney
called you up on the telephone about
noon. I happened to answer it, my
self, and when I told him you were in
New York, and would not be back
until six, 1t Just seemed he couldn't
wait to unburden himself. Won't you
please tell him, Mrs. Clyde he said,
that Mr.. Murphy's Chinaman was
found at daybreak this morning, lying
dead. Just outside Murphy's back
door,"
Found dead!" I cried. in amaze
ment.
"That is what he said. Then he
added that the poor fellows head had
been crushed with some heavy instru-
ment. and that Mr.. Murphy had been
arrested on suspicion and was in the
Cos Cob lookup"
silent amaze. Then theories and con-
lectures in infinite variety gave
chase, one after the other, through
my excited brain. But 1t was more
than ever difficult, I found, to reach
anything like a satisfactory conclu-
sion concerning the position the now
lifeless Celestial and his accused mas
ter held in the chain of mysteries I
wished 80 much to solve. That they
we're both Of them more or less i'm.
'portant links. however. I had small
doubt.
Did o know Mr.. Murphy" my
mother asked. And all at once I
realized that her question was a
repetition; In my absorption I had
not needed the original inquiry.
Nobody knows him." l answered,
unconsciously echoing the words
voiced by the man in the catboat on
the previous night. Nobody knows
him. But I've met him in a rather
casual way"