Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1913-11-11
ugh He Is Hopeless When He Refers to 1t as Fate
g or is SSIt1 3

founded knock! IL Jared nay spine"
Take some more brandy"
How can II It is impossible, L
haven't got an ox-head, like you"
Mason placed the lamp on a 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 Grenier'E
deep breathing, 81 fancy I didn't kill
him, after all"
"Not-kil him? Why-.he was dead
in that chair-for an hour"
Perhaps. I hit hard enough, but
this hat must have taken some of H.
When you were busy, 1 though his
chest heaved slightly. And just now,
when / carried him outside, he seemed
to move"
Rot"
TT may he. / struck very hard. "
Grenler sat UP.
Even if you are right" he NUT
tered, at does not matter. He fell
three hundred feet The fall alone
would kill him. And, if he is
drowned, and the body Is picked up,
IL is better So Don't you see! Even
II he were recognized he would be
drowned, not--n tt Well, his
death would be due to natura
causes"
He could not bring himself to say
''murdered"-an ugly word
IF you were not such a miIRsop
there would be no fear OF his beinG
recognized"
But Grenier laughed hollow and
| unconvincing laugh; nevertheless, f.
was sign of recovery.
What nonsense we are talking. A
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
go and tell Green to bring my traps
here instantly. / wish him to return
| to town on an urgent errsnd."
There was a CLINT Of admiration in
Masons eyes. Here was one with
Anson's face, wearing Anson's
clothes, and addressing him in An
sons voice.
That's better" he chuckIed. BY
Cd, you're clever when your head
| is clear"
"Now be off for Green. You know
what to say"
You will be lone. VIII you BE-
| afraid"
The sheer was the last stimulant
! Grenier needed.
The Inventory.
IF you were called on to stand in
/ Philip Anson's boots during the next
I 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 tho
dogcart rattling down the hill
He commenced with an inventor >
I OF Philips pockets.
His ewes ST irkled at the sight oe
a well filled pocketbook, with a hun
/ dred pounds in notes stuffed therein
/ cards, small collection Of letters,
| and other odds and ends Among
| Philips books was Evelyn's hurried
| note Of that morning, and on 1t "a
/ penciled memorandum.
"Sharpe left for Devonshire yes
terdsy. Lady N. wrote from York
shire"
That was neat stroke thought
! Grenier. with a snile-when he
smiled he least resembled Philip. BE .
ing man Of affairs Arson promptly
went to the Morlands solicitors.
was sure of It, I wonder how Jimmie
arranged matters with Sharpe. 1 will
know tomorrow at York"
! A check book in another pockes
added to his Joy.
The last rock out of my path" he
| cried aloud, "That saves two days
/ The bait took. BY Jovel I'm in luck s
way!'
To Be Continued To morrow.