The Bismarck tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, N.D.) 1916-current, 1923-06-21
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Brendon remembered to have OBJ
served on any countenance. They
were of foxy red, and beneath
them flashed large, white teeth
when the big man talked in rather
grating tones. His hair was fiery
red, cut close, and of hue yet
more violent than his mustaches.
The big man appeared friendly
though Brcndon heartily wished him
away.
"This bally place seems to be-
witch people," said the big man.
The other laughed. There is
magic here. 1t gets into your.
blood"
$50 it does. A man know is
building himself bungalow out
here. He and his wife will be just
Is happy as a pair of wood pigeons
at least they think So"
II heard trowel clinking."
\"Yes, lend hand sometimes
when the workmen are gone. But
think of ito turn your back on
civilization and make yourself a
home in a dcsert!"
might do worse-if you've got /
no ambitions"
"Yes-ambition is not their strong
point. They think loves enough
poor souls. Why don't you fish,"
waiting for it to get a bit dark
CT"
"Well, SO long. Take care you
don't catch anything thatll pull you
H."
Laughing at his joke the red man
STROBE off through the gap fifty
yards distant. Then in the stiffness
Mark heard the purr of machine.
He had evidently departed upon
motor bicycle to the main road half
a mile distant.
When he was gone Brendon rose
and strolled down to the other en-
trance of the quarry that he might
see the bungalow of which the
stranger had spoken.
The day grew very dim and the
fret of light and shadow died off
the earth, leaving all vague and vast
and featureless. Brendon returned
to his sport and found small
'coachman" fly sufficiently destruc-
tive. The two pools yielded a doz-
en- trout, of which he kept six and
returned the rest to the water.
Tramping back under the stars,
his thoughts drlfted to the auburn
girl OF the moor.
Four evenings after hts first fish
ing expedition to the quarries, Mark
devoted a morning to the lower
waters of the Meavy River; at the
end of that day, not far short of
midnight, when glasses were empty
and pipes knocked out, half dozen
men, just about to retire, heard a
sudden and evil report.
viii Blake, Boots" at the Duchy
Hotel, was waiting to eXtinguish the
lights. and seeing Brcndon he said:
There's, something in your lineI
happened, master, by the look of it,
pretty Robbery tomorrow"
"A convict escaped, Will?" asked
the detective, yawning and longing
for bed. "Thats about the only fun
you ScI up mere, ISM IL !.
"Convict escaped? No--a man
done in seemingly. Mr.. Pendean's
unclc-in-law have slaughtered Mr..
Pendean by the looks of it,"
And who is Mr.. Pendean?"
"The gentleman what's building
the bungalow down to Foggintor."
Mark started. The big red man
flashed to his mind complete in ev-
cry physical feature. He described
him and Will Blake replied:
That's the chap that's done it.
That's the gentleman's uncle IN
law!"
Brendon went to bed and slept no
worse for the tragedy. Nor, when
morning came and every maid and
man desired to tell him all they
knew, did he show the least inter-
est.
He was just slipping on raincbat
and about to leave the hotel when
Will Blake appeared and handed H..
letter. He felt curious and. not
associating the incident with the
rumored crime, set down hts rod
and creel, opened the note, and read
what was written:
% Station Cottages, Princetown.
Dear Sir: The police have told
me that you are in Princetown, and
it seems as though Providence had
sent you. ! fear that have no right
to seek your services directly, but
II you can answer the prayer of a
heart-broken woman and give herr
the benefit of your genius in this
dark moment, she would be unspeak-
ably thankful
BEAUTIFULLY yours,
Jenny Pendean."
Mark Brendon murmured "damn"
gently under his breath. Then he
turned to WILL
where is Mrs. Pendean's house? ?"
he asked
sln Station Cottages, just before
you come to the prison woods, sir"
Kun over, then, and say I'll call
| in half an hour"
Continued in Our Next Issue)