The Tabor independent. [volume] (Tabor, S.D.) 1913-19??, 1918-11-21
down. his cheeks.

WhOhs ditCi IohAuS ~ 1cW sips VI
his medicine, he went back to his
work, he did 80 mechanically,
with none Of that gayety which
had made him hop on his legs and
set about his murder as though he
were going to a pleasure party.
He began by returning to the
bush from which LHpin had seen
him emerge. Behind this bush,
between two trees, was a shelter
containing tools and arms, spades,
rakes, guns. and rolls of wire
rope.
Making several journeys, he
carried them to the well, intend
ing to throw them down il before
he went away. He next examined
every particle Of the little mound
up which he had climbed, in order
to make sure that he was not
leaving the least trace Of his pass
age.
He made a similar examination
of those parts of the. lawn OH
which he had stepped, except the
path leading to the we'll, the in
spection of which he kept for the
last. He brushed up the troddea
grass and carefully smoothed tho
trampled earth,
lie was obviously anxious and
seemed to be thinking of other
things, while at the same time me-
chanically doing those things
which a murderer knows by force
of habit that it is wise to do.
One little incident seemed to
wake him up. A wounded swal-
low fell to the ground close by
where he stood. He stopped,
caught it, and crushed it in his
hands, kneading it like a scrap
of crumpled paper. And his eyes
shoDe with a savage delight as he
gazed at the bl cd that trickled
from the poor bird and REDEEMED
his hands.
But, when he flung the shape
less body into a furze bush, he
saw on the spikes in the bush a
hair, a long, fair hair; and all his
depression returned at the men,
DRY of Florence.
He knelt in front of the ruined
grotto. Then, breaking two sticks
of wood, he placed the pieces in
the form of a cross under one of
the stones.
AS he was bending over, a lit
tie looking glass slipped from his
waistcoat pocket ana, striking a
pebble, broke. The sign of ill
luck made a great impression on
him. He cast a suspicious look
around him and, shivering with
nervousness, as though he felt
threatened by the invisible pow
ers, he muttered:
"I'm afraid--I'm afraid. Let's
go away"
His watch now marked half
past four. He took his jacket
from the shrub on which he had
hung it, slipped his arms into the
sleeves, and put his hand in the
outside pocket, where
he had placed the pocketbook
containing his papers:
"Hullo!" he said, in great sur
prise. II was sure l had"
He felt in the left inside poe
ket, then in the handkerchief poe
ket, then, with feverish excite
.ent, in both the inside pockets.
The pocketbook was not there.
And, to his extreme amazement.
the other things which he was
absolutely certain that he had
left in the pockets Of his jacket
were gone: his cigaret case, his
box of matches, his notebook.
He was flabbergasted. His fea-
lures became distorted. He splut-
tered incomprehensible words,
while the most terrible thought
took hold of his mind so forcibly
as to become a reality: there was
some one within the precincts of
the old castle.
There was some one within the
of the old castle! And
this someone was now hiding near
the ruins, in the. ruins perhaps!
And this some one had seen him !
And this some one had witnessed
the death of Arsene Lupin and
the death Of Florence Levasseur!
And this some one, taking advan-
of his heedlessness and
from his words that the
papers existed, had searched his
and rifled the pockets!
His eyes expressed the alarm
of a man accustomed to work in
the darkness unperceived, and
who suddenly becomes aware that
.nother's eyes have surprised him
at his hateful task and that he
is being watched in every move
ment for the first time in his life.