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Updated: June 20, 2025
"The verdict will make no difference to the finding him, Robin," returned Lionel Verner. "I dun know that, sir. When a charge of wilful murder's out in a place, again' some one of the folks in it, the rest be all on the edge to find him; but 'Found drownded' is another thing. Have you any suspicion again' anybody, sir?"
We got to be on the road north by noon to-morrow. We'll take the kid. Oh, yes, we'll take his precious kid," he laughed. "But God help you if things happen through it. You know what this thing means? If Steve and I come up with each other there's going to be a killing. And murder's a big thing beside pouching the Treaty Money of a bunch of darn neches." Delight and excitement were running high.
"Yes; the murder's out." He gave it her, and walked away among the roses. Presently, seeing that she had finished reading and was standing quite still with the sheets of the letter against her skirt, he came back to her. "Well?" "It's wonderfully put. I don't see how it could be put better. Thank you, dear." "Is there anything you would like left out?" She shook her head.
For an instant they stood by their intended victims, as if debating whether to murder them only for murder's sake, when the appearance of two women, stealthily quitting a house farther on in the street, carrying a basket covered by some tattered garments, attracted their attention.
'Sophia! he ejaculated softly, 'and Stonor! by the beard of the prophet! He half rose, whether more annoyed or amazed it would be hard to tell. 'We're discovered! he said, in a laughing whisper. As he turned to add 'The murder's out, he saw that Vida had quietly averted her face. She was leaning her head on her hand, so that it masked her features.
"I don't mean to tell you that he fell in love with me at all, Mr. Rolls." "I guess you didn't mean to. But, you see, I made you own up." "There was nothing to tell." "Well, the murder's out, anyhow. And that brings us back to a point I want to make. Now that affair of this morning. You say you're entitled to no credit. But I've been thinking I'd like to make it up to you by giving a reward."
"Well," replied the superintendent, reluctantly, "of course I get to hear everything. If you must have it, the prevailing notion is that both you and Mr. Mallalieu had a hand in Kitely's death. They think his murder's at your doors, and that what happened to Stoner was a by-chance.
The atmosphere was electric. James spoke quickly, to bridge any embarrassment. "This is a dreadful thing about Uncle James. I've never been so shocked before in my life. The crime was absolutely fiendish." Kirby nodded. "Or else the deed of some insane person. Men in their right senses don't do such things." "No," agreed James. "Murder's one thing. Such coldblooded deviltry is quite another.
In his Dundee's case the impossibility of the murder's being delayed or arranged so that the detective might be slain when the whole "crowd" was assembled was obvious.
"I am Henri d'Artin, by murder's hand laid low; I would tell you much." "Let us go, Monsieur, let us go. He speaks of unholy things," the boy pleaded fearfully. Meeting no response he turned and fled down the slope, away in the twilight beneath the trees. "Dost hear the clanking arms, the rolling drums of war? List unto the shouts, the cries within.
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