Evening star., 1927-11-26

One would have asked a good deal to
have asked more! The spot where
the old maniac was at work was close
up against the wall at the right OF
the door and almost directly opposite
the window.
The digging ceased. Another souhu
took it's place--a sort of grooming, a
singsong droning sound. WORDS
snatches Of sentences, became audible:
All, All here! In the
darkness where no one can see.
And do not need to see-I feel.
Night after night l feel, and my ting
ers count. ** Money! Money!
Ha. Ha-and they do not understand.
Fools. All fools! You
will multiply yourself hundred, a
thousand fold. Fools! Blind
fools, *They would not listen.
- They called me mad
The grooming went on.
Capt. Francis Newcombe with cool
nonchalance made himself more COM
Portable now by propping his back
against the side of the hut. When the
old fool was through with his pulling,
and the fondling of that half million
in hanknotes that he imagined was so
safely hidden, the next move would be
in order. Until then there was moth
ing to do except to exercise what de-
gree of patience he could.
Patience! He stirred suddenly. Why
exercise patience? Was it, after all.
absolutely necessary that he should?
A moments work would do away with
that senile old idiot now. MIR. Marlin
would be found. but the money would
not be found. That was the plan in
it's actual essence, wasn't it?
He snarled then, angrily. at himself
under his breath. That was the meth.
cd Of the 'cusher," which, OH a cer-
tain occasion, he had branded with so
much contempt! The record OF Shadow
Varne was marred by no such crude
ness as that. A cusher without art!
1t brought him sense of intense ir-
ritation that the thought should even
have entered his mind.
Why had it?
He shook his head. Was it impa-
tience, or perhaps, rather. prescience
prompting him to be through and done
with this with the least possible
delay? Were the events that had hap
pened since he had left England in
sidiously taking effect upon him to the
detriment of his customary cold and
measured judment? Well, he would
see to it that nothing of that sort
should happen! Crime was a science;
its procedure was calculated, methodi-
cal, orderly. denying scruples. He had
always approached it as science; he
proposed never to approach it in any
other way. The case in point, for in
stance: Once he knew exactly where
the hidden half-million was, where he
could lay his hands on 1t whenever he
desired at an instant's notice-and he
would locate it's precise position inside
the hut there as soon as the old man.
lac returned home to his bed-Mr.
Marlin would be removed. But that
must be accomplished apparently
through an accident-and the accident
must be such to serve as proof, so to
speak, that Capt. Fra ncis Newcombe
could not possibly have had any part
in it. This became the more ESSENTIAL
now in view of that internal voice last
night. The nature of the accident itself
was a mere detail. The choice was
legion. There had been others who,
becoming encumbrances in the path
of Shadow Varne. had met with acci-
dents. What folly to go in there now
and have the whole island aroused
by the crime Of murder and invaded
by the police; with the crime itself
proclaiming the fact that the murder
had been done for the money the old
madman was known to have had
somewhere. but which was now OBJ
viously in the possession of some one,
to wit. the murderer!
Bah! What was the matter with
him? Did he need to rehearse the
obvious? Mr.. Martins secret would
die with him; and, being unable to find
the money, they would give the old
maniac more credit for cunning and
originality than was due to the moss.
eaten method of selecting a hiding
The pitiful fool! Under the floor!
ways hidden-in every book he had
ever readi
The grooming continued. It began
to get a little on his nerves. 1t was
here interminable. Would the man
stay here until daylight? No: that
was hardly likely-not If he ran true
to form. Old Marlin hadn't stayed out
until daybreak last night when Polly
and he, Capt. Francis Newcombe
had watched the other go in under
the veranda.
1t might have been an hour, though
it seemed two. when at last Capt.
Francis NeWcombe rose silently to
his feet. The grooming had finally
ceased. and in it's place there came
now series Of low, thudding sounds,
as though soft earth were being:
tramped into place; and then he heard
the door creak a little as it was op-
ened and closed. An instant later the
footsteps OF the old man died away
along the path by which he had come.
Capt. Francis Newcombe stepped
quickly around to the other side of
the hut, and tried the door. 1t was
unlocked. He smiled in sort of grim
humor as he pushed it open. and, en-
tering, closed it again behind him.
That was the first sign Of intelligence
no applied to a maniac, it could
hardly he termed intelligence!-well,
then. craftiness that measured up in
at least a little way to the intensive
order OF cunning with which the in
sane in general were popularity cred
tied An unlocked door was no mean
safeguard. The last place one would
expect to find or look for a half
million dollars would be behind an
unlocked door!
His fiashlight threw an inquisitive
circle of light around the interior
Whatever the place had been used for
at one time, 1t was decidedly neg
lected and in disuse now. The flooring
was in an advanced state Of decay.
His eyes followed the rays of the
fashlight as 1t held on a spot on the
flooring near the door. Yes, knowing
beforehand that some pieces of the
flooring there had been lifted, he ould
see that such was the case in spite of
the fact that the pieces had been
very neatly replaced.
The fiashlight continued it's tour of
inspection. There was a pile of rub
bish and some old barrels over in the
far corner He stepped quickly across
to these and nodded his head sharply
in satisfaction as. tucked in behind the
barrels he found what he had been
looking for Mr.. Marlin had been dig.
ging Exactly! Here was the spade.
He lifted II up and examined it. Par
ticlas Of fresh earth still clunQ To IL