The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1913-03-21
THE TERROR
IN The SNOW
(Continued.)

(Continued.)
Baron Steen," he said, met with
his death on an open path between a
shallow duck-pond and a little pavll-
ION He had fought hard for life, had
rolled and struggled with his enemy.
There were four or five punctured
wounds in his throat and neck, from
which he had bled profusely. And
now for the thing that killed him
whatever it was. 1t could not have
fled down the cliff path, for the boats
crew waiting below had heard the
screams, and had come running up by
that way. They were with him when
we arrived and assured me they had
seen nothing. 1t could not have turn
ed to the right or left, for, though the
paths had been swept clean-doubt-
less by the baron's orders, for he
would not desire his way of escape
TO be easily traced-the snow on
either side lay in unbroken levels. 1t
could only have retired by the yew
avenue, and it did not break through
the hedge. That, again, the snow
proved clearly. So, we may take 1t,
that whatever the thing may have
been which you saw-it killed Baron
Steen; further, it escaped into the
house-this, you will remember, we
decided in the garden. Let us imag-
inc 1t was a man-that you we're de-
ceived by the uncertain light. His
clothes must of necessity have been
drenched in blood He could not
have struggled so fiercely with his
victim and escaped those fatal signs.
Yet, he cannot have burned his
clothes, for the fires are downstairs
where people were passing. Nor can
he have washed them, for neither the
bath rooms nor the bedroom basins
have been recently used. have
spent some time in searching boxes
and wardrobes with no result Strang-
er still, as far as my limited informa-
ton goes, every one in the house can
prove an alibi-save two"
"And who are they?" 1 asked
eagerly
"Mr. Henderson, the baron's valet
and yourself"
Inspector Peace" 1 began an
grily.
'Tut, tut, my dear Mr. Phillips I
was merely stating the facts. Mr..
Henderson's case, however, presents
an interesting feature, for he has run
away"
Run away" 1 said "Then that
settles it."
mot altogether, I'm afraid. I think
1t is more matter of theft than MUIR
der with Mr.. Henderson"
1 stared at him in silence as he sat
there, with his little hands clasped
upon his lap, picture Of irritating
composure.
Peace" I said, struggling to con-
troll my voice. What are you hiding
from me? 1t is something inhuman,
unnatural that has done this dreadful
thing"
The little detective stretched him.
self, yawned, and then rose to his
feet.
II have no opinion except that l
think you had better go to bed. Don't
lock your door, for l may find time
for an hours sleep on your sofa be-
fore morning"
The news was out after breakfast
the news that led to mild Mysteries
and scurrying of lady's-maids to the
packing of boxes, and the chastened
sorrow of those gentlemen who owed
the baron money. Through all the
turmoil of the morning moved the lit.
tie detective, the most sympathetic
of men. 1t was he who apologized so
humbly for the locked doors of the
bathrooms; he who superintendent
the lighting OF fires, and the making
OF the beds, and the packing of
trunks for the station so closely that
the housemaids were convinced that
he entertained secret passion for
each one Of them; 1t was he who an.
nounced Henderson's robbery of the
gold plate, following it by informa.
ton as to the culprit's arrest. The
establishment had by this time be.
come convinced that Henderson was
the murderer. and breathed relief at
the news.
They had brought the body of Baron
Steen to the house early in the morn.
1ng-it had been laid in the garden
pavilion on its first discovery.
With death In so strange a form
present among us, I was Disguised Nv
the noise and hustle, the gossip and
chatter amongst the guests of the
dead man. / wandered OF In search
OF the one person who had seemed
sincerely affected by the news. the
young secretary. Maurice Terry. He
ras nowhere to b found. A ery.ni