Evening star., 1928-11-15
THE TULE D.
NANCY
MARSH MURDER s9Sirv s5ss
OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES VgTTTESTElNNygNENgINNygEK
Copyright. 1925 BY Bell Syndicate. Inc

surged over him an irrational impulse
| to protect this man from the trap
which he himself had laid, and in,o
which the victim had stepped with
such blind, unhesitating promptness. Ii
was too easy!
You ought to have a guardian!" lie
exclaimed almost angrily; and then
more gently, Its good thing found
YOU"
Suppose this babe had been pounced
upon by men from the homicide squad
with their sweating methods and
strong tactics-it would be like
seeing rabbit torn piecemeal by dogs.
Peter quite forgot that the man beside
him was sought as dangerous char
acter-a slayer.
But you haven't told me yet why
you wanted to find me-" There was
not trace of fear in the low voice, nor
any combativeness.
Peter leaned forward and peered at
the face before him with his bright,
near-Sighted gray eyes before answer
ing. It was worn and sensitive face,
young and yet ravaged; face with
delicate, clearly modelled features and
dark Sunken eyes. The perfectly shaped
head had the shifting beauty of pro-
file on Greek coin.
had dismissed as ''sickly looking fel-
low!' If sickness was there, it was a
sickness of the soul. The curved lip
dropping slightly at the corners, the
dark, steady eyes with their depths of
PAIN did not suggest weakness SO much
as the helpleSsnesS of one who is an
alien in the world where he must live.
There was a permanent bewilderment
in those eyeS-the eyes of baffled poet
thrust into a world of ugly prose in
which he could never be at home,
bruised and broken and still wonder
ing. A man like that, wounded beyond
endurance, might strike to kill-and
still not understand what 1t was all
about.
Surely you know" Peter said at
last, speaking patiently as if to child,
that you are under suspicion of the
murder of Mrs Ellsworth.
The curved lips frightened into hard,
straight line. The face before him be-
came as still, as eXpreSsionleSs as if 1t
were chiselled in stone.
II don't know any Mrs. Ellsworth -
The voice took on a remote metallic
ring, as If each word were the drop
ping of coin.
Peter stared moment. Then he re-
membered Notwithstanding that
had puzzled him.
"But you knew sheila O'shay?" he
asked breathlessly.
"Yes, oh, yes, Sheila O'Shay" The
words were hardly more than an au-
dible sigh. "A great many people knew
Sheila O'Shay!"
His hands were suddenly flung out
ward en- the table In a singularly de-
fenseless gesture. The knife, unnoticed,
slid across the boards and fell noise
lessly to the ground. The fat woman
and her tumultuous offspring had
wandered away out of sight.
YES" Peter said sternly, but you
wrote Sheila O'Shay a threatening let
ter. don't know why you didn't take
any pains to disguise it, but you didn't
Then you hung around outside the
house, lying In wait for her. Sheila
O'Shay was found murdered-and you
are out here, hiding under an assumed
name. You're absolutely no good as a
fugitive. I'll admit could have done
lot better myself-but that's no sign
you didn't do it. You trembled all over
when spoke to you"
"Oh, but that was before / knew
you'll" Orme's face broke into radiant,
confiding smile of sheer delight. You're
so very likeable, you know!" BY the
way, don't think you're policeman,
are you?"
mo, I'm not" Peter said harshly.