Arkansas State press., 1943-10-22

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day. They said it was suicide.
Why"
Has it yer occurred to you that
il might have been murder" For a
long moment George Rumble gazed
at Rogers without speaking. Rog.
ers added; when did you leave the
house that night?'
about nine o'clock"
'She was alive them"
What are you getting att"
THE woman was murdered; can
! you tell us anything about it,"
II didn't do it. ! left her still
alive, There wasn't any reason for
me to kill her, She owed me mon
ey, and We had a row, and ! threat.
ened to sue, and she tried to kick me
out, and | says: No you don't, old
girl; there amt no woman going to
kick me out of any house. I'm a
gentleman and III walk out like
one"
We fell silent for a few minutes
while overhead in the old pepper
tree the little green p~arrakeets
scolded and shrilled.
Il wish you could help us out
about that night, George" observed
Rogers casually.
II wish | could too, Hunt"
did anything arouse your suspi-
cions while you were there; any
thing that would lead you to believe
that Miss Chatfeld was about to be
murdered"
Moo. l guess not. You see It's
a year and a half, almost. since
that happened; and the thing ! re-
member. Of course, is the row I
had with her."
Conversation Jagged; we had ex-
hausted all that vas obvious in the
affair.
do you know where Elsa ISL"
Rogers inquired Of a sudden.
"All l know is that some guy-a
Mex. who speaks English-said
when l first came out that she had
gone out horseback riding"
"Alone?"
II didn't ask"
We had had our talk with George
Rumble; the explanation of the pic
ture in the rotogravure section had
been made, and ! was ready to re-
turn to town. But Rogers was in
clined to linger, although we had
discovered that neither Sam Chat
field nor Berta was at home and
there seemed no object in remain
ing.
you don't know, of course. when
Elsa is expected back?" inquired
Rogers of Rumble.
mo, I don't, Hunt"
Rogers got up from the patio
bench and began a leisurely exami-
nation Of the flowers and the riot Of
tropical shrubbery. Finally he
pushed open an old grilled gate
which led to a graveled courtyard,
or bare plaza. The huge house
formed n side of the open square.
A long low line of adobe buildings
with barred windows housed the Of
fee Of the ranch and the store
houses, a third side was the living
quarters of the ranch workers, the
fourth that of the stables.
I followed Rogers, leaving Rum
Bile sitting alone, smoking a brown
paper cigarette in solitude. AS we
sauntered toward the stables, the
actions Of a man in the courtyard,
near a gate which opened upon the
fields of the rancho, drew u atten-
ton. He was STOPPING above the
form of a brown dog lying on the
ground. AS we drew neal he emp
tied the contents Of a bottle upon a
dirty rag and held 1t to the dogs
nose, and the dog quivered slightly
as if from a chill.
"The dog is DID," said Rogers in
Spanish.
Very old, SIR" the mar replied,
looking up sadly. ut is best that he
should die now, sir" He caught a
Whit of something and turned his
head away.
"Chloroform," I said to Rogers.
eyes" he answered, and stopped
to pick up the empty bottle the man
had discarded. He'll die quickly"
he said to the executioner.
Yes, sir. Sonora Chatield would
not have him shot. She said this
was merciful."
"The sonora gave you the drug?'
eyes, sir, Do you think the dog
is dead, sir?"
mot yet, but soon"
While l was standing there, gaz-
ing at this odd scene, my ears
picked up the sound of hoof beats,
For a moment or two their source
was not apparent. walked through
the gate and out into the open away
from the stables. Rogers followed
me. Across the wide fields along an
unpaved ranch roadway leading to
the house, came pounding a horse
and rider as if in a tremendous hur-
ry to arrive. A hundred yards or