The Birmingham age-herald., 1923-04-01

would have broken my fathers heart However, Pm happy enough. Work is good for us all, and I couldn't sit down and be the only one of my family to do nothing"
 These sidelghts upon the young lady's family history and their agreeable little picnic were suddenly broken into by fur . ther untoward happening connected with the cottage opposite.
 The front door was thrown open, and a woman ran screaming into the road.
 Her hands were high above her head; her face seemed distorted with horror. She ran toward the two, shouting and ges- tieulating, pointing first to the cottage and then down the hill, across the field. MT. Cray slipped off the wall.
 q can't get all she says" he told his companion, "but it seems that some one has been hurt in the cottage, and she is accusing the young man of having done it. I'd better go and see what's wrong. Jean, you rascal, come here."
 The chauffeur made his appearance from behind the tree where he had been consum- ing his lunch. In something less than 30 seconds he and the women were in the midst of an impassioned duet and all three were on their way to the cottage. The young lady sat upon the wall and waited. Down the road came peasant in brown linen suit riding bicycle.
 'Tt is Francoisw the woman shouted, waving to him. Come to me, little one! A terrible thing has happened!"
 They waited for Francois a giant of over six feet, who dismounted from his bi- cycle and listened, with ejaculations like pistol shots, to repetition of the woman's story. Then they all went into the cot tage. The woman threw open the door of the little living room. Then MT. Cray saw that they were in the presence of tragedy
 The room, almost painfully neat, was devoid of any signs of struggle. The white stone floor was spotlessly clean Strings of onions, few birds and rab- bit, hung from beam in the ceiling. There were antimacassars upon the oak chairs, neat array of crockery upon the dresser.
 Seated in chair was an old man with long gray beard. From the left side of his body, beneath his unbuttoned waist coat, protruded the hilt of knife. There was splash or two of blood upon the floor beneath and upon the side of the chair.
 He was without doubt dead As they saw him, the woman tainted, but came to again almost immediately, to join in the fierce chorus of questions and commentary. MT. Cray lifted the, mans wrist and felt it for moment. Then he turned away. left the cottage and walked back into the sunlight. The girl slipped from the wall and came toward him.
 "What has happened?" she asked.
 'What seems to have been a murder" Mr. Cray answered gravely. sThere is an old man there absolutely dead. I think the old Wv1ran is trying to say that he was stabbed by his son, the boy who ran past us across the field and into the wood."
 "How horrible" the girl exclaimed. turning suddenly pale. 'In that cottage, too. where everything looks so peaceful! Why, it must have been done while we were sitting here talking. And that boy too! He had such fine face"
 q guess they're queer lot, some of the country folk round here," Mr. Cray ob- served. "If were you, young lady, I'd just get back to the others now guess I'd better go on to the village and get a doctor. Hotel de Paris tonight at o'clock"
 "Lovely!" the girl murmured
 They crossed the road together. MT. Cray held open the gate which led into the wood.
 'It's too bad this should have happened" he said. "Kind of broke up our little time together"
 She was still pale, but was rapidly re- covering herself.
 Anyhow" she declared, 'it has been the happiest half-hour I have had since