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 LY) [ALL KIGHT3 RESERVED.] ri J t [TRH3ËSERVMAN HUN;1 flit. By TOM GALLON, Al Author of "Tatterley," "The Great Gay Road," &c. CHAPTER III (Continued). I SOMETHING IN THE RIVER. >] "You don't know who killed him? She veiled for quite a long- time, twisting her white fingers in and out, and looking down at them. "No," she said at last with- out looking up. Here was mystery on mystery, Manners thought. That she was concealing some- thing from him was evident; it seemed in- thiii?- i ,)Ie that she should have known any- thing about the matter, and should have for- gotten. There was some hidden reason why she would not sneak of what she had seen in that strange house m Leceii Street, Lambeth and the man who watched her now, as she stood with bent head before him, knew that it wee impossible to get that knowledge from her. "Why do you ask me what you should do?" he a&ked at last, a little harshly. She raised her eyes timidly to his; her hands went out to him clasped for a moment as if in mute appeal then they fell to her sides. "You were good to me; you brought me here last night, when I was alone and frightened "That was nothing," he broke in. "Why do you ask me here what you are to do, when you can easily go back to Miss Litch- field's house? "I can't—I can't go back there!" she panteid, like one desperately afraid. But if vou know nothing of this business, how can it' possibly concern you* he asked. "What is there to fear? You have been the accidental witness of this murder; you need say nothing about it. I'm the only one that knows—and I-- He had been on the point of saying that after this day he was not to be reckoned with; but he checked himself hurriedly. And as he did so another fear grew in her eyes and found expression there and this time it was for him. "Why—what are you going to do?" she asked in a breath. "Nothing; what should I do?" he replied. "And you think that I could go back to that house—saying nothing, and knowing nothing of what I have seen?" she asked him strangely. "Most certainly," he replied, watching her keenly. "If you know nothing, there is nothing you can explain—is there? She turned away, and walked to the door of the room, paused there for a moment, and came back to him. She looked at him steadily, and then asked a question with lips that quivered. "You think I've lied to you?" "I think there is something you will not tell me," he equivocated. "You think that I am connected—with that horror?" she demanded in a whisper. "God forbid!" he exclaimed heartily. Once again she moved away, and once again came back. He thought what a strange little creature she was, and, as on a previous occasion but a few hours before, he felt curiously drawn towards her. She was so frail and so lonely, and, as he recognised now. so very, very pretty. "If it should ever happen, Mr. Manners," she said, in a low voice, "that you were in any great trouble, and it was in my power to hc?p yûu-I would do it." He was more than a little touched, alike bv the words and by the eyes she raised to him, yet he laughed. "Because I got you out of a difficulty, and found you a night's lodging?" he asked lightly. "No—not for that; for quite another reason," she quickly. And then, when he would have spoken, she went on rapidly; "I will do what you say; I will go back to Wedgwood Square." She went quickly out of the room, turning even then at the last at the door to look hack at hkn; he carried with him the recollection of her troubled eyes for quite a long time. There were other things yet to be done; and after that strange parting he went out of the liltle hotel, and found himself again in the streets, with the lessening hours be- tween himself and the great crisis. At about that verv hour when Rodney Manners, feeling strangely solitary, stepped out i; J the streets, with but a vague notion of what was to become of him, a man roso from uneasy slumbers in certain chambers overlooking the Green Park. Very sumptuous chambers they were—the proper abode for a man about town, and a very rich man at that. And the man who occupied them was Murdoch Slade. It was a rare thing for him not to be able to sleep; he never remembered it to havo happened before. He sat now on the side of his bed, with his hands hanging inert beside him, and stared at the floor; raised his liaggjeird eyes once to look out of the win- dow to the waving tops of trees in. the dis- tance. Over there, as far as he could sec, was Kensington; could lie have thrown far enough, lie might have dropped a stone on the reof of that JlOuse in Wedgwood Square, so well did he know in what direction it lay. The Park that intervened had been the road always that led from his chambers to that house—and back again. He had got in very early that morning, without disturbing his man, who slept in a tiny room just off the hall. He remembered how, when he finally gained the inner room, he had sunk down, panting heavily, as though from excitement, or because he had been running hard; he remembered what a long time it had taken him to make up his mind to switch off the light in that room, and to go through the darkened hall to his bedroom queer things seemed to start out of the shadows everywhere. After a moment or two he raised his hands -pc)-,rt,-rful, brutish things with nails bitten down t:) the quick—and looked at them; very slowly closed and unclosed them, making the muscles swell on his heavy wrists. Then. more slowly still, lie turned them over, and looked at the backs of them. There was a long scratch across the back of the right hand, and three smaller ones on the left. He got up, and carried the kands to the window, the better to look at them: muttered something under his breath, and began to rub at the scratches, as though by doing that he would obliterate them. Finally he got back into bed, and, as though ho could not bear the light of the coming day. buried his head under the bedclothes, and lay there very still. He was in that position when later on his man tip-toed into the room to wd-ke him. And Hester Wake went on quickly throuh the streets, walking like one to whom something new and wonderful has happened. The horror of the occurrence of the night before was thrust at the back of her mind-a thing to be trembled at and 6huddered at; greater than it, and obscuring it. was the remembrance of something else that had happened, when for a moment the arms of Rodney Manners had been about her, when he drew her out of that awful house, and w' his lips had brushed hera for a moment as he whispered: "It'll be all right." She slipped into the house in Wedgwood Square without attracting attention; the dance had gone on so very late that the household was still asleep. She gained her room, and made some slight alteration in her dress; a few hours later she was, to all appearance, the quiet, demure companion who had certain duties to perform, but no real place in the household. The only inci- dent of that eventful day that need be re- corded here is one that occurred in that late afternoon. Murdoch Slade had come swinging across the Park, and had made his way to the hovse in Wedgwood Square, there to make polite inquiries, and to express the hope that no one was tired after the very jolly evening they had had. And it happened that, a3 Heritor was about to come out of her room, f ile heard his voice in the hall, and, opening the door quickly, went down. The man was passing into the drawing-room, with an ■ obsequious servant lidding the (Ioor for him, and for a moment the eves of and of the girl met. He bowed quietly, and smiled, remarked that it was a fine afternoon. But the door of the drawing-room had closed, and the servant had retired. Heater Wake stood perfectly still, with her hands clasped, and her lips parted; her face was white as death. And while she stood like that she did a curious thing. She sniffed twice quickly, as though striving to smell some faint odour that wns in the air, and to remember where she had smelt it be- fore. Meanwhile, Manners had shown himself— for there was no real reason why he should not do so—at his club, and had lunched there. A certain sense of peace was upon him now that he knew he could do as he liked for these few hours he put off the necessity for arriving at a decision as long as possible. It was quite late in the after- noon-t about the time, indeed, of Mur- doch Slade's visit to Grace—that a sudden idea occurred to Manners an idea that stuck in his mind. He found, almost against his will, that his thoughts began to be occu- Eied with the place at which he had said his body would be found after he had committed suicide. He tried to shake off that thought, but the more he did so the more clear be- came the recollection of the place as he had known it. Some years before he had taken a little unpretentious bungalow of some four or five rooms, almost on the river bank, at Charn- ley Weir. He had gone there to fish; it was the one recreation the busy man allowed himself. It was a very quiet spot, far away from a railway station, and Manners had been in the habit occasionally of going down there, and buying his own provisions in the village and managing for himself. It was quite the best holiday the man could have. Eventually he had bought the place. That had been some five or six years be- fore, and latterly the press of business had not allowed the man to take holidays at all the financial fight had been too keen to allow of his slipping out of the ranks. So that the place in that time had gone to rack and ruin in fact, one or two ill-spelt letters from the woman in the village who had looked after it during his occupation had reached him, pleading that the bungalow was falling to pieces, and that* something ought to be done to preserve it. But Manners had set those letters aside, and had forgotten them. But the key of the Chubb lock which he had himself placed upon the door was still in his possession he found himself looking at it musingly as he stood in the street. And on that quiet Sunday afternoon a great re- solve came to the man he would go down to Charnley Weir, and would see for him- self what the old place looked like—perhaps renew his youth a little in this last hour. He drove to Paddington. and found that he had about an hour and a. half to wait, and that even then the train would be a slow one. He lighted a cigar, "ml strolled up and down the platform, remarking the fact that there were very few passengers at that hour of the day, and half repenting of his purpose to go to Charnley Weir after all. However, he had purchased his ticket on pulling it out of his pocekt he made the discovery that for some unknown reason he had taken a single ticket, and not a return. He laughed at the thought of Staying at Charnley Weir—of all places in the world In due course the train came in. and even then Manners hesitated about going at all. He was wasting time hideously; there was vital necessity that he should get out of Englalll; and yet here he was, dawdling about in the very places where men woula seek for him. Yet it seemed that a power stronger than his own will was driving him J on upon some course the end of which he 1 did not know. lIe alighted as darkness was falling- at that little railway station which y,as the I nearest to the village of Charnley Weir; and now more than ever he regretted his journey. Nevertheless, lie turned his steps in the direction of the buugalow, noting as lie went the old familiar spots past which he had 1 gone often and often in the old days with the joyous feeling of a man looking forward to a holiday. He was more than ever sorry that he had come when he reached the bungalow. The palings of the little fence that had sur- rounded his garden were broken down in places; the garden itself was a wilderness. As for the tinv house, the rusty hinges of the shutters had given way altogether in one place, and the shutter lay half-buried in the long grass. There was a hole in the sloping roof, where tiles had been loosened by some gale; the whole place looked forlorn and disreputable. However, he put his key in the lock, turned it, and went in. ■ A rat, disturbed by his entrance, scuttled squeaking along the little hall; the wind swept in through a broken window. But the man remembered where he had left candles, and he had matches in his pocket.. He walked into the dining-room, which he had once thought so cosy, and groped about until ho found what he wanted, and got a light. He laughed a little grimly as he looked round the place. Giant cobwebs hung from the ceiling, and the wallpaper had peeled off in places and hung in damp strips from the walls. The furniture was fairly good, save for the dust. and the cupboards were locked. With half a laugh and half a sigh, he found the key to these, and opened them. He laughed out- right at the discovery that. after all these years, there was half a decanter of whisky and a couple of syphons untouched. "Not so bad, after all," lie said "though why I came down here I can't understand! I shall only get the horrors for no reason, and shall have to go without my dinner." He had brought some sandwiches with him, however, from Paddington, and lie then and there made an impromptu meal. Strangely enough, there was still no definite project in his mind all this was but a kill- ing of time. The thing was so difficult; lie was wavering from one notion to another, not knowing on which to lay hold. He laughed a little at the absurdity of his posi- tion, as he sat on the edge cf the table munching his sandwiches and drinking whisky and soda. All at once he stopped. with a sandwich half-way to his lips, and listened; then put it down, half-eaten, upon the paper bag in which he had brought it. Something or someone was stirring ill the next room— something larger than any rat. He took up the candle, and went out into the hall; and suddenly kicked open the dcor of that other room, and peered in. Something bulky and large and disreput- able rose from a corner, and stood against the wall, regarding him Manners stepped into the room, and saw standing before him a tall man, dressed in shabby clothing that was much frayed at the legs of the trousers and at the wrists of the coat: an unmistak- able tramp. The man blinked his eves at the candle, and grinned a little sheepishly. "What are you doing here?" demanded Manners, stepping further into the room. "I ain't doin' no 'arm, voi, can take my word for that," answered the man, not un- civilly. "I didn't know anybody belonged to this 'ere crib; I've slept 'ere this last three nights. Better than bein' out o' doors-ain't it? "Well, this happens to be my house, and I don't care to take lodgers," said Manners, curtly. "You seem to 'ave looked after it jolly well," retorted the man, moving about un- easily on his feet, and plucking with ner- vous, grimy hands at his short, fair beard. You must be mighty fond of it, guv'nor." "That's neither here nor there," said Manners. You can't stay here, and the sooner you clear out the better." As if in protest against such a summary ejection a little spatter of rain broke upon the windows as he spoke. The tramp shrugged his shoulders, and shuffled towards the door; looked back for a moment at Manners. "'Taint a night to turn a dmvg out in, much less a man," he said. The other's heart relented. "Here, you poor devil you can step here if you like," lie said quickly. Only you'd better clear out in the morning before I see you, that's all. Manners walked away to escape the fel- low's voluble thanks; the tramp dropped to the floor again. Manners, in the other room, finding that when he had eaten a couple of sandwiches he had had enough for his own wants, turned a glance on the whisky de- canter, and shrugged his shoulders, and marched out into the little hall. Here-v ou "I he called, "come in here The man came limping Iut of the room to- wards him, stood hes; .tJg at the door of the 'dining-room, w-!i greedy eyes upon the fare spread upon t 'to table. "Help yourself," said Manners, "and make the most of it." When the man limned across to the table, and, after bolting a sandwich in two bites, turned to the whisky, Manners had an op- portunity of examining him more closely. He was not an ill-looking fellow by any means, and he might, from his appearance, have been a soldier at one time or other. He was about thirty-five years of age-very dirty, but with a certain smartness in his bearing, even in the shabby clothes he wore. There was something of a humorous auda. city in the man's eyes as he looked from the glass he held to the open cupboard door. Strike me pink," said the man, but I'd 'ave 'ad that open if I'd known there was stuff like that inside. I've bin lyin' 'ere for three nights, within a foot or two o' that. an' never knowed it. Yer 'ealth, guv'nor "And yours, my friend," said Manners. Rummy place fer a toff like you to put up at," said the tramp, looking round the grimy walls. "You don't 'appen to be 'iding grimy w-, t., l s. from anybody, do yer? "What should make you think that?" de- manded Manners. This place belongs to me, and I came down and had a look at it. And that reminds me," he said, pulling out his watch and glancing at it, I've lost the last train back to town. I'd forgotten it was Sunday night. I shall have to sleep here." I "There's worse places, I s'pose," retorted the other, helping himself to another drink. Manners presently saw the tramp safely huddled up in a corner of that lower room, and, after locking up the spirits, went up- stairs in search of a place in which to sleep. Bitterly enough he regretted coming down to this place now, for he could not even go to the inn in the village and get a bed. He was well known there, and it would surely be mentioned that he had, after all, come to Charnley Weir. Besides, he was within a few hours of Monday morning, when he must be far away in hiding somewhere. The bedding was safely stowed away in an old-fashioned cupboard in the room in which he had always been in the habit of sleeping; he turned some of it out, Shid made up a bed for himself. Then he removed his outer clothing, and dropped it, higgledy-piggledy, on the floor; tumbled into bed between the blankets, and was asleep at once. He awoke in the morning with only a dim understanding of where he was and of what had happened; it took him a few moments to get the grasp of tilings. Then he sat up in bed, and looked about him. Was that foul heap of rags on the floor the clothes he had cast off on the previous night? A sudden idea occurring to him, he sprang out of bed, tore open the door, and ran downstairs. There, in the dining- room, stood the. tramp, looking quite re- spectable in the clothes of Rodney Manners; even the gold watch-cliain gleamed across his waistcoat. He had forced open the cup- board door, and, without troubling about a glass, was engaged in draining the decanter. "You ungrateful rascal-is that how you thank people?" demanded Manners; and made a spring at him. The man eluded him dexterously, and, dropping the decanter, darted round the room, and fled out of the door into the rank little garden. Manners, in the lightest of clothing, sprang after him, crying to him to stop. There was not a soul about; the bungalow stood far away from any other house. Manners saw before him the tramp, running hard and dressed in his clothes; it was desperately necessary that he should capture the fellow. Still shouting to him to stop, and feeling, with a sense of gratification, that he was gaining on the man, Manners followed the tramp on to the river bank. And then in a moment came the catas- trophe. The man as he ran looked back > over his shoulder to see how much he was being gained upon, tripped on the slippery bank, and, with waving arms and a despair- ling cry, plunged straight into the river. la the strong current he was swept away in a moment, and Manners, who could not swim, knelt honelessly on the bank, staring down at tltffe whirling water. "Something—in my clothes and with my papers and possessions in his pockets- drowned in the river at Charnley Weir," said Manners to himself with a shudder, as he got to his feet. "Something with a fair beard—like mine. And the river will wash him clean He stood looking about helplessly, shiver- ing in the chill morning air; presently he turned and raced back to the bungalow. (To be Continued.)

"GOOD MORNING I" I

BIRDS AND CRIME. I

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THE POULTRY YARD

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