Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1913-11-11

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founded knock! IL Jared my spine
Take some more brandy.
How can II It Is impossible 4
haven't got an ox-head, like you"
Mason placed the lamp on centra
table. Its rays fell on Philips hat.
Something in its appearance caught
the mans eye. He picked up the hat
and examined it critically.
DO you know" he said, after ..
! silence broken only by Grenisrs
| deep breathing, 81 fancy I didn't Kill
| him, after ALL
"Not-iill him? Why-lhe was dead
| in that Chair-for an hour"
Perhaps I hit hard enough, but
| this hat must have taken some Of IL.
When you were busy, l though his
| chest heaved slightly And Just now,
when l carried him outside, he seemed
| to move"
| ROT"
at may be- / struck very hard.
| Grenier sat up.
| Even if you are right" he NUT
| tered, cit does not matter He fell
three hundred feet. The fall alone
would kill him And II he is
| drowned, and the body is picked up
| 1t is better SO! Don't you see! Even
| If he were recognized he would be
| drowned, not-n t. Well, his
death would be due to natural
causes"
He could not bring himself to say
| 'murdered"-an ugly word.
| IT you were not such a milKsop
! there would be no fear Of his being
recognized"
But Grenier laughed hollow and
/ unconvincing laugh; nevertheless, 1t
was sign of recovery.
What nonsense we are talking 4
naked man, floating, dead, in the
/ North Sea. Who is he? Not Philip
Arson, surely! Philip Arson is gay!v
| gadding about England on his private
affairs. Where is Green? Hunter
1 go and tell Green to bring my traps
here instantly. | wish him to return
to town on an urgent errand."
! There was CLINT OF admiration il
Mason's eyes Here was one with
Anson's face. wearing Anson's
clothes, and addressing him in An
sons voice.
That's better" he chuckled by
! Cd, you're clever when your head
is clear"
Now be off for Green. You know
what to say
You will be a lone VIII you b.
afraid? ?"
The sneer was the last stimuIaut
Grenier needed.
4ue 1uVeuIoIy,
IT you were called on 10 stand in
Philip Ansons boots during the next
week or ten days, my good friend
he quietly retorted, you would be
| afraid sixty times in every hour. Your
job has nearly ended; mine has bare
ly commenced. Now leave me-
Nevertheless, he quilted that cham
Der of death carrying with him all
that he needed, and hurrying over
the talk while he could yet hear thu
dogcart rafting down the hill.
He commenced with an inventory
of Philips pockets.
His ewes 81 1rkled at the sight ue
a welI-filled pocketbook, with a hun
dred pounds in notes stuffed therein
! cards, A small collection Of letters,
and other odds and ends Amons
| Philips books was Eveiyn's hurried
note Of that morning, and on it %
penciIed memorandum:
Sharpe left for Devonshire yes
terday, Lady M. wrote from York
shire"
THAT was a neat stroke thought
Cirenier with a smile--when he
smiled he least resembled Philip. BE
ing man of affairs Arson promptly
went to the Morlands solicitors. [
was sure of II. I wonder how Jimmie
arranged matters with Sharpe. / will
know tomorrow at York"
A check book in another pockeg
added to his Joy.
The last rock out of my path" he
cried, aloud That saves two days
The bait took. BY Jove, I'm in luck
way"
To Be Continued To. morrow.