The Weekly Journal. — 1902-10-24 (Hartlepool, Cleveland, England)

IRON PECIL TO PERIL.  Gilbert's first impulse was towards flight, , and his glance travelled rapidly round the room from door to window cud from window to another door leading to an inner room in search of a possible exit. 'the man at the door followed the glance, and his own eyes rested where Gilbert's finally rested, on the window, fixing their gaze with the same slight start of the whole body as was the case with Gilbert, and from the same cause. A man stood at the window looking into the room, and they both knew him. Gilbert had seen him for the first time that morning, as ho looked through his screen of hazel bushes, he was one of the two detectives on the track of the Westhaven murderer; and Prissin had teen him then, too, from the other side of the path, before the ant eze had put an end to his observations. But though Prissin knew the detective, the detective did not know Prism any more than , he knew Gilbert, not haring joined his fellow-detective until after the memorable nightat the " Raven," when Prissin had represented himself as being the fellow-officer! whom Mason was expecting. The detective after a long look througn the window, came round to the door of tile bar. l'rissin, having had time to reflect, and knowing himself to be unknown, made way for him with nonchalance, and took a step or two towards the road. Then he pulled up suddenly. A little way down the road another man was standing, a man dressed in a dark tweed suit and a pot-hat; ho stood and gazed fixedly towards the inn. Prissin know the man for Mason, the detective he had encountered at Kirliugton, and he had a shrewd suspicion that the man knew him: that incident at the "Raven" was likely to have impressed the characteristics of his appearance upon the other's memory. A face—it was easy enough to alter a face, and the face of the midnight Prisein of the "Haven" was not quite the same as that of the Prissin of to-day. But he knew that he himself in tracking fellow-creatures looked for signs of individuality less easily altered than the features, and was aware that a trained , detective would be likely to follow the same method. He paused, hesited, then satintered back to the alehouse. The new-comer had ordered a pint of bitter, ! and had entered into conversation with the ' loafers who had been discussing the colour of Gilbert's hair. Gilbert, lighting his pipe, was drawing gradually nearer to the door leading into the room behind the bar. Prissin strolled across and interrupted him. 'Give us • light," said he; and then, in a low voice: "That's a detective just come in. You are at my mercy. Try to escape and you are lost," Gilbert held out a lighted match, and in the same tone: " You are at my mercy," he answered. If you betray me, I betray you.".  A dangerous light came into the other's eyes. "You must follow my lead," he said. ' "Remember, if you don't you av done for." "Your pipe's alight," said Gilbert aloud, and turned on his heel.  _ He went over to the window, noticed that it was unbolted, and then joined in the conversation, the undercurrent of his thoughts set all the while on the problem of how to get away. It seemed to him that it must be on his account that Priam had returned after sauntering out of the door, that if he went out of the ale-house Prissin would follow him, and he knew not what other members of the dread organisation which had wound its toils about him this member who bad tracked him might have at his command. In any cat, Prissin held the trump cards, for anyone who was even suspected of being the Westhaven murderer was sure of immediate arrest, whereas the suspected murderer's accusations against Prissin, apart from their extraordinary character, were almost cutaiu to be disbelieved. His redections were interrupted by the entrance of a third comer, a man dressed in a dark tweed suit and a pot-hat. Reentered, closed the  lIIMMNIIIIMIINNII