Henderson daily dispatch., 1937-11-06

AS TIM awaited the fatal hour,
the hands of the clock crept round
At 20 to 10 Tim could stand it nc
longer. He had suddenly discov-
cred an excuse for action. If the
thing was to come to a collision
with the back of his car it was
necessary that there should be. tire
marks leading down the lane; it
would not do just to back the car
Vp from the front gate of The
Wilderness.
He put on his hat and coat and
returned to the garage, thrust the
wire and stakes, together with a
heavy mallet, into the back of the
car, and drove out. He turned
down the lane, speeded couple OF
hundred yards along the road
from Westbourne, and then made
the circuit so as to enter Box lane
from the Broadstock road. He
drove down the lane very slowly,
and pulled up at the point he had
decided.
It was now five to 10, and he
thought he could get to work. He
took his gear out of the car and
switched off the lights.
The work did not take him long.
The earth on the banks took the
stakes easily and held them firmly.
He hammered them in nearly a
foot without striking rock. The
wire was now stretched taut
across the roadway at a height of
rather over foot from the
ground. BY the light of his torch
it was plainly visible at dozen
yards distance, but not obvious
unless one was looking for 1t.
Tim kicked it once or twice. It
yielded an inch or two, but showed
no sign of giving way. He re-
turned to the car, turned out the
lights, and sat down at the driving
wheel in the dark.
Twice he struck matches to
look at his watch. Five minutes
past 10. Twelve minutes past.
The air was very still; it was
likely that the sound of the bicycle
would make itself heard in time to
give ample warning. Seventeen
minutes past; due now.
Tim began to bite his nails with
afxiety. Suppose Adams was
really drunk, had sense enough to
know it, and was going carefully?
!. Or suppose there was some
thing wrong with his bike, he
hadn't taken it, was walking home,
or worse, getting a lift?
There were dozen possible
slips, each in itself unlikely, but
in aggregate amounting to a
strong possibility. Fl i
Twenty past. It came almost.
without intination. The light hiss
Of tires suddenly audible, a leap Of
the heart, a tearing scrape Of
brakes, lasting the barest fraction
of second, and then the crash.
Adams had rolled over on to his
side, near the middle Of the road.
Not far from the back Of the car,
another two or three yards and he
would have landed on the top.
Tim shone the torch on toshis face.
It was covered with blood and
dust. There was an open wound
On the front of the skull, from
which blood was gushing. His
right arm was bent in an impossi-
Die position.
Gingerly Tim turned him over,
unbuttoned his shirt. The heart
seemed to be beating, or was it his
own madly racing pulse, commune
eating itself to the feel of the
inert body? Never mind; no time
to take chances. Tim Strengthened
himself, gripped the torch more
firmly, stepped back half pace.
He knew where to aim. He
lifted the torch.
He wiped it clean with his
handkerchief, and dropped the
handkerchief by the body. Safe
enough now; Adams would never
speak again. o
What next? Rapid action; the
letter could wait. but all traces of
foul play must be removed at
once. He had some difficulty in
finding one Of the pins, it had
been dragged out of the earth, and
torn from it's Fastening to the wire