United States or Niue ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
But it's so quiet that's what makes the ticking of the watch sound so plain." "It is quiet," observed Tremlain. "But in a jewelry store there's always a lot of clocks making a noise and Say!" he suddenly cried, "there's not a clock in this place ticking notice that? Not a clock ticking! They've all stopped!" "You're right!" exclaimed Casey. "The watch is the only thing going in the whole place!"
But it's only a watch." "Maybe so," assented Casey. "We'd better make sure before we telephone for the police. She may only have fallen and cut her head." "You you go and see," suggested Tremlain. "I I don't like to go near her I never could bear the sight of dead folks not even my own father. You look!" Casey hesitated a moment, and then stepped closer to the body.
The milkman whistled, set his collection of bottles back in his wagon, and hurried with Darcy toward the store. The other man, bringing his rattling vehicle to a stop, followed. "Where is she?" whispered Casey, as soon as he reached the side of his business rival, Tremlain. "On the floor right in the middle between the showcases," answered Darcy, and he, too, whispered.
What's that watch ticking?" he asked, pausing. "Oh, it's in her hand!" and the other two looked and saw, clasped close in the palm of the woman lying huddled on the floor, a watch of uncommon design. It was ticking loudly. "What makes it sound so plain?" asked Tremlain. "Cause it's so quiet in here," answered Casey. "It'll be noisy enough later on, though!
It seemed the right thing to do. "There see her!" He pointed a trembling finger. "Lord! Her head's smashed!" exclaimed Casey. "Look at the blood!" "I I don't want to look at it," murmured Darcy, faintly. "Hark!" cautioned Tremlain. "What's that noise?" They all listened they all heard it. "It's a watch ticking," answered Darcy. "First I thought it was her heart beating it sounded so.
He leaned over it and put the backs of his hard fingers on the white, wrinkled and shrunken cheeks. They were cold and wax-like to his touch. "She's dead," he whispered softly. "Better get the police right away." "Murdered?" asked Tremlain, who had remained beside Darcy near the showcase where the silver gleamed. "I don't know.
He told briefly what he knew, which was corroborated by Tremlain, then the two left to cover their routes, after giving their addresses to the policeman. The crowd grew larger. From outside it looked like a convention of umbrellas. The rain still drizzled and turned to steam and mist as it warmed on the many bodies in the throng a mist that mingled with that of the rain itself.
The crowd, increasing each minute, pressed against the still locked front doors. Those in the van flattened their noses against the glass in grotesque fashion. "Hurry and get the police!" begged Darcy. Casey was about to telephone, when Tremlain, who had gone out into the alley from the side door, hurried back to report: "Here comes a cop now. Saw the crowd I guess.
"Funny thing about the clocks all stopping, though. S'pose they all ran down at once?" "They couldn't," Darcy answered, "I wound the regulator only yesterday," and he pointed to the tall timepiece in the show window the solemn-ticking clock by which many passersby set their watches. "The other clocks " "And they've all stopped at different times!" added Tremlain. "That's funny, too."
"You you won't leave me here alone will you?" asked Darcy. "Isn't there any one else in the house?" asked Tremlain, for the living-rooms were above the jewelry store a substantial brown stone building of the style of three decades ago. She's deaf, and she'll be more of a nuisance than a help. Mrs. Darcy's maid won't be in until noon. I don't want to be left "
Word Of The Day