The Holly chieftain., 1914-01-02
The STORY OF
AMAR0FF THE POLE

You may think yourself an artist"
wrote my uncle. but call you silly
young fool"
l remembered the sentence and the
reading of 1t well enough, though time
has not stood idle since that Septem-
ber evening Of the year 1892. From
the point of view of Bradford, my
uncle might be right; but what did
he know, argued, of the higher ideal
which | had chosen preferring the de-
velopment of my artistic sense to the
mere accumulation Of money that
could not spend? Where was his Joy
of life-he who spent his days in the
whirr of wheels and the fog of many
chimneys? How could it compare with
mine in the ancient peace OF the
eighteenth century house that lay m
der the towers that crowned the an
cient abbey at Westminster? ! look
ed around me at the delicate tapes-
tries that I had brought from Florence
to my London rooms; at the glowing
agonards-souvenirs Of my year OF
artistic study In Paris; at the Dres-
den groups redolent Of old SaXony
Was I the fool or my uncle George?
There seemed to me no doubt about 1t.
1t was plainly Uncle George.
Yet the letter had unsettled me. l
opened the swing doors that led to my
studio. switched on the light, and
stepped from easel to easel, examin.
ing my half-finished work with grow.
ing dissatisfaction. We're they indeed
merely the daubs of wealthy ANA
teur? loitered back to my sitting
room in a sulky depression, and had
picked up an art paper. when there
came a tapping at the door, and the
griZZled head Of old Jacob Hendry
came peering in. A perfect servant
was old Hendry, once sergeant of in
fantry, and now combination of cook.
valet. and housemaid. who kept my
rooms in spotless order. grilled a
steak to turn, was fair hand with
a needle. and spent his spare time in
producing the most inartistic wood
carving I have ever seen.
well, and what is it?" asked him;
for he seemed In some hesitation.
II beg your pardon, Mr.. Phillips,
sir" he said, but there's a young
man would like to see you. A most
respectable young man, sir. as lodges
above us on the third floor. but"
Go on, Jacob. go on"
THE fact is. sir. he's from the
Yard"
THE Yard! What Yard?"
Scotland Yard. sir, where the de-
tectives come from"
And where I wish to Heaven they
would remain. thought I.
This intrusion was simply insuffer-
able. I had mind to refuse the man
admittance.
"'Is boots is quite clean" said ia
cob, entirely mistaking my hesitation.
"'E as wiped 'em on the mat saw
i'm
"Oh, show him In"
"The person, sir, of the name Of In
spector Peace" said Hendry. swing
ing open the door
He was a tiny slip of a fellow, of
about five and thirty years of age.
A stubble of brown hair. hard, clean
shaven mouth. and confident chin
such was my impression. He took one
quick look at me, and then waited,
with his eyes on the carpet and his
head a trihe tilted over the right
shoulder
Il fear that l have taken n great
liberty, Mr. Phillips" he said, in a
very smooth and civil manner But
/ had an idea that you would help
me, and time was of Importance"
well, and what is it?'
you have many friends amongst
the foreign artists here in London
You attend their concerts and some
times even their little dances. We
are near neighbors. you see." he con-
cluded, with a slight bow.
81 am flattered by the interest you
have taken In my movements"
1.-TWO hours ago." he continued
cheerfully, "a body was found In
passage off Leman street, Stepney-a
body which we cannot identify. The
man was of good position. sculptor.
and, believe, a Pole. A cab is wait
ing at the door. 1t Is late. I know,
Mr.. Phillips: it cannot fail to be a
great personal inconvenience; but will
you drive down with me and take a
look at him?"
Certainly not"
He saw that I considered his pro-
posal an impertinence, for he hesi-
tated moment regarding me with an