Evening star., 1942-02-20

her WOrOS were plduSlDle eIlOul
at the open trunk. 1t was almost
filled with faded wooden blankets
Nevertheless, a small vial of poison
could easily be hidden in the folds.
"Just keep your hands up," said
Mr.. Wetherfether. He backed over
to the door. The finger of his fash
light pointed out the electric switch.
He snapped it on, flooding the attic
with light.
Slipping his f1ashHght back into
his pocket, Mr.. Wetherfether re-
turned to the trunk. Keeping the
revolver poised in his right hand, he
shook the blankets out one by one
with his left. It was an awkward
procedure, but the deputy was TAX
ing no chances.
But there was no receptacle con-
tanning poison in the trunk. AS Mr..
wetherfether shook out the last
blanket. however, a small book rolled
out on the floor with a dull thud.
So that was what she had been hid
ing! He snatched it up and scanned
the title. 1t was De Crevecoeurs s
Letters From an American Farmer
the last thing In the world that
Mr.. Wetherfether would have asso-
ciated with Jarvis Thorpe's death.
He opened the book to the table
OF contents, however. and glanced
swiftly at the chapter headings. At
Chapter x he paused. It's title was
ION Snakes, and on the Humming
Bird" He f1icked the pages to that
section of the book Then, as he
read the narrative with mounting
excitement, he could hardly contain
his feelings. For he knew that he
had found the solution to the mys-
tery Of Jarvis Thorpe's death.
A Leading Clue.
"A Dutch farmer of the Mini
sink" he read, went to moving,
with his Negroes, in his boots, a
precaution used to prevent being
stung. Inadvertently, he trod on a
snake, which Immediately few at his
legs, and as it drew back in order to
renew its blow, one of his Negroes
cut 1t in two with his scythe. They
prosecuted their work and returned
home. AtSnight the farmer pulled
off his boots and went to bed and
was soon attacked with a strange
sickness. Before a physician could
be sent for. he died. The sudden
death of this man did not cause
much inquiry; the neighborhood
wondered, as Is usual in such cases,
and without any further examina-
ton, the corpse was buried"
The next part of the narrative told
how, some time after the funeral,
the son put on his fathers boots and
went out to work in the meadow.
That night when re returned home,
he pulled off his boots, was attacked
by the same symptoms, and was
dead in the morning.
It was not until a third man had
been similarly attacked, that an
eminent physician was brought in
and the cause Of the deaths was dis
covered. According to De Creve-
occur:
THE boots which were so fatal
were then carefully examined, and
he found that the two fangs Of the
snake had been left in the leather,
after being wrenched out of their
sockets by the strength with which
the snake drew back its head. The
bladders which contained the poi
son and several Of the small nerves
were still fresh and adhered to the
boot. The unfortunate father and
son had been poisoned by pulling of
these boots, in which action they
imperceptibly scratched their legs
with the points of the fangs, through
the hollow of which some Of this
astonishing poison had conveyed"
A Shot Was Fired.
So there it was at last, the ex-
planation of those two slight
scratches on Jarvis Thorpe's leg and
of the fact that he had just taken
off his riding boots when death
struck at him with its hidden fangs.
In the exitement of his discovery,
Mr.. Wetherfether's attention wav-
cred for a moment from the figure
standing so warily on the side of the
trunk. In that instant, with
a strength born of desperation, she
leaped at him, trying to wrench the
revolver from his grasp.
In the struggle which followed,
the gun went off. It's report sounded
deafeningly loud in the confined
space of the attic. The sound was
lake a tocsin, summoning the house
hold. Downstairs, there were sounds