notyet
been
gone
an
hour
;
and
a
loaded
revolver
is
a
loaded
revolver
,
be
it
brandished
by
man
or
boy
.
The
piecing
of
the
plates
was
like
a
children
's
puzzle
,
only
easier
,
because
the
pieces
were
not
many
.
One
of
the
reconstructed
negatives
was
of
painful
interest
;
it
reminded
Pocket
of
the
fatal
one
smashed
to
atoms
by
Baumgartner
in
the
pink
porcelain
trough
.
There
were
trees
again
,
only
leafless
,
and
larger
,
and
there
was
a
larger
figure
sprawling
on
a
bench
.
Pocket
felt
he
must
have
a
print
of
this
;
he
remembered
having
seen
printing-frames
and
tubes
of
sensitised
paper
in
the
other
room
;
and
hardly
had
he
filled
his
frame
and
placed
it
in
position
,
than
Phillida
ran
down
stairs
,
and
he
told
her
what
he
had
done
.
“
I
wish
you
had
n't
,
”
she
said
nervously
,
as
she
made
mechanical
preparations
with
pot
and
kettle
.
“
It
would
only
make
matters
worse
if
my
uncle
came
in
now
.
”
“
But
he
was
n't
back
on
Friday
before
ten
or
eleven
.
”
“
You
never
know
!
”
Pocket
spoke
out
with
a
truculence
which
his
brothers
had
inherited
,
but
not
he
,
valiantly
as
he
might
try
to
follow
a
family
example
.
“
I
do
n't
care
!
I
ca
n't
help
it
if
he
does
come
.
I
'll
tell
him
exactly
what
I
've
done
,
and
why
,
and
exactly
what
I
'm
going
to
do
next
.
I
give
him
leave
to
stop
me
if
he
can
.
”
“
I
'm
afraid
he
wo
n't
wait
for
that
.
But
I
wish
you
had
waited
for
his
leave
before
printing
his
negative
.
”
Pocket
jumped
up
from
table
,
and
ran
to
the
printing-frame
in
the
sunny
room
at
the
back
.
He
had
been
reminded
of
it
only
just
in
time
.
It
was
a
rather
dark
print
that
he
first
examined
,
one
half
at
a
time
,
and
then
extracted
from
the
frame
.
It
was
meshed
with
white
veils
,
showing
the
joins
of
the
broken
plate
.
But
it
had
been
an
excellent
negative
originally
.
And
it
was
still
good
enough
to
hold
Pocket
rooted
to
the
carpet
in
the
sunny
room
,
until
Phillida
came
in
after
him
,
and
stood
looking
over
his
shoulder
.
“
I
know
that
place
!
”
said
she
at
once
.
“
It
's
Holland
Walk
,
in
Kensington
.
”
He
turned
to
her
quickly
.
“
The
place
where
there
was
a
suicide
or
something
not
long
ago
?
”
“
The
very
place
!
”
exclaimed
the
girl
,
looking
up
from
the
darkening
print
.
“
I
remember
my
uncle
would
take
me
to
see
it
next
day
.
He
's
always
so
interested
in
mysteries
.
I
'm
sure
that
's
the
very
spot
he
showed
me
as
the
one
where
it
must
have
happened
.
”
“
Did
he
take
the
photograph
then
?
”
“
No
;
he
had
n't
his
camera
with
him
.
”
“
Then
this
is
the
suicide
,
or
whatever
it
was
!
”
cried
Pocket
,
in
uncontrollable
excitement
.
“
It
's
not
only
the
place
;
it
's
the
thing
itself
.
Look
at
that
man
on
the
bench
!
”
The
girl
took
a
long
look
nearer
the
window
.
“
How
horrible
!
”
she
shuddered
.
“
His
head
looks
as
though
it
were
falling
off
!
He
might
be
dying
.
”
“
Dying
or
dead
,
”
said
Pocket
,
“
at
the
very
second
the
plate
was
exposed
!
”
She
looked
at
him
in
blank
horror
.
His
own
horror
was
no
less
apparent
,
but
it
was
more
understanding
.
He
had
Baumgartner
's
own
confession
of
his
attempts
to
secure
admission
to
hospital
death-beds
,
even
to
executions
;
he
expounded
Baumgartner
on
the
whole
subject
,
briefly
,
clumsily
,
inaccurately
enough
,
and
yet
with
a
certain
graphic
power
which
brought
those
incredible
theories
home
to
his
companion
as
forcibly
as
Baumgartner
himself
had
brought
them
home
to
Pocket
.
It
was
the
first
she
had
ever
heard
of
them
.
But
then
he
had
never
discussed
his
photography
with
her
,
never
showed
her
plate
or
print
.
That
it
was
not
merely
a
hobby
,
that
he
was
an
inventor
,
a
pioneer
,
she
had
always
felt
,
without
dreaming
in
what
direction
or
to
what
extent
.
Even
now
she
seemed
unable
to
grasp
the
full
significance
of
the
print
from
the
broken
negative
;
and
when
she
would
have
examined
it
afresh
,
there
was
nothing
to
see
;
the
June
sunshine
had
done
its
work
,
and
blotted
out
the
repulsive
picture
even
as
she
held
it
in
her
hands
.
“
Then
what
do
you
think
?
”
she
asked
at
last
;
her
voice
was
thin
and
strained
with
formless
terrors
.
“
I
think
that
Dr.
Baumgartner
has
the
strangest
power
of
any
human
being
I
ever
heard
of
;
he
can
make
you
do
anything
he
likes
,
whether
you
like
it
yourself
or
not
.
The
newspapers
have
been
raking
up
this
case
in
connection
with
—
mine
—
and
I
see
that
one
theory
was
that
the
man
in
this
broken
negative
committed
suicide
.
Well
,
if
he
did
,
I
firmly
believe
that
Dr.
Baumgartner
was
there
and
willed
him
to
do
it
!
”
“
He
must
have
been
there
if
he
took
the
photograph
.
”
“
Is
there
another
man
alive
who
tries
these
things
?
I
've
told
you
all
he
told
me
about
it
,
but
I
have
n't
told
you
all
he
said
about
the
value
of
human
life
.
”
“
Nor
need
you
!
He
makes
no
secret
of
his
opinion
about
that
!
”
“
Then
put
the
two
things
together
,
and
where
do
they
lead
you
?
To
these
murders
committed
with
the
mad
idea
of
taking
the
spirit
in
its
flight
from
the
flesh
;
that
's
his
own
way
of
putting
it
,
not
mine
.
”
“
But
I
thought
your
case
was
an
accident
pure
and
simple
?
”
“
On
my
part
,
certainly
;
but
how
do
I
know
he
could
n't
get
more
power
over
me
in
my
sleep
than
at
any
other
time
?
He
saw
me
walking
in
my
sleep
with
this
wretched
revolver
.
He
said
himself
I
'd
given
him
the
chance
of
a
lifetime
.
You
may
be
sure
he
meant
before
that
poor
man
's
death
,
not
after
it
.
”
“
It
is
n't
possible
,
”
declared
Phillida
,
as
though
she
had
laid
hold
of
one
solid
certainty
in
a
sea
of
floating
hypotheses
.
“
And
I
know
he
has
n't
a
pistol
of
his
own
,
”
she
added
,
lest
he
should
simplify
his
charge
.
But
there
they
were
agreed
.
“
He
had
n't
one
on
him
that
morning
;
that
I
can
swear
,
”
said
Pocket
,
impartially
disposing
of
the
idea
.
“
Mine
was
the
only
one
in
that
cape
of
his
,
because
I
once
jolly
nearly
had
it
out
again
when
he
came
back
into
the
room
.
There
was
nothing
of
the
sort
in
his
other
coat
,
or
anywhere
else
about
him
,
or
I
could
n't
have
helped
seeing
it
.
”
Phillida
accepted
this
statement
only
too
thankfully
.
She
beamed
on
the
boy
,
as
if
in
recognition
of
a
piece
of
downright
magnanimity
towards
an
enemy
whom
she
could
now
understand
his
regarding
in
that
light
.
If
only
he
would
go
before
the
enemy
returned
!
If
her
uncle
had
such
a
power
over
him
as
he
himself
seemed
to
feel
,
then
that
was
all
the
more
reason
for
him
to
go
quickly
.
But
Pocket
was
not
the
man
to
get
up
and
run
like
that
.
Perhaps
he
enjoyed
displaying
his
bravery
on
the
point
,
and
keeping
his
companion
on
tenter-hooks
on
his
account
;
at
any
rate
he
insisted
on
finishing
his
breakfast
,
and
gave
further
free
expression
to
the
wildest
surmises
as
he
did
so
.
And
yet
he
was
even
then
on
the
brink
of
a
discovery
which
was
some
excuse
for
the
wildest
of
them
all
,
while
it
demanded
a
fresh
solution
of
the
whole
affair
.
He
had
been
fingering
the
recovered
weapon
in
his
pocket
,
almost
fondling
it
,
though
with
mingled
feelings
,
as
the
Prodigal
Son
of
his
small
possessions
;
suddenly
it
leapt
out
like
a
live
thing
in
his
hand
,
and
clattered
on
the
table
between
the
girl
and
boy
.
It
was
a
wonder
neither
of
them
was
shot
dead
in
his
excitement
.
His
whole
face
was
altered
;
but
so
was
his
whole
life
.
She
could
not
understand
his
incoherent
outburst
;
she
only
knew
that
he
was
twisting
the
chambers
round
and
round
under
her
nose
,
and
that
there
appeared
to
be
live
cartridges
in
all
six
.
“
Do
n't
you
see
?
”
the
words
came
pouring
.
“
Not
one
of
them
's
been
fired
—
it
's
as
I
loaded
it
myself
the
other
night
!
It
ca
n't
have
been
this
revolver
at
all
!
”
“
But
you
must
have
known
whether
you
fired
or
not
?
”
“
I
tell
you
I
was
walking
in
my
sleep
till
the
row
woke
me
.
I
'd
only
heard
it
once
before
,
in
a
room
.
It
sounded
loud
enough
for
the
open
air
,
though
I
do
remember
wondering
I
had
n't
felt
any
kick
.
But
I
was
so
dazed
,
and
there
was
this
beastly
thing
in
my
hand
;
and
he
took
it
from
me
in
such
a
rage
that
of
course
I
believed
I
'd
let
it
off
.
But
now
I
can
see
I
ca
n't
have
done
.
It
was
n't
my
revolver
and
it
was
n't
me
!
”
“
Yet
you
say
yourself
my
uncle
did
n't
carry
one
?
”
“
I
'll
swear
he
did
n't
;
but
there
's
another
man
in
all
this
!
There
was
the
man
they
arrested
on
Saturday
—
the
man
I
was
so
keen
to
set
free
!
”
The
boy
's
laugh
grated
;
he
was
beside
himself
with
righteous
joy
.
What
was
it
to
him
that
his
innocence
implied
another
's
complicity
?
Only
too
characteristically
,
he
saw
simply
the
central
fact
from
his
own
point
of
view
;
but
was
it
such
an
undoubted
fact
as
he
hot-headedly
supposed
?
There
was
the
broken
negative
to
confirm
a
certain
suspicion
,
but
that
was
not
enough
for
Phillida
.
She
asked
if
he
had
no
more
cartridges
,
and
he
said
he
had
a
few
loose
in
his
waistcoat
pocket
;
he
had
thrown
away
the
box
.
“
Then
my
uncle
might
have
put
in
a
fresh
one
while
you
were
asleep
.
”
“
Why
should
he
?
”
“
I
do
n't
know
,
but
it
sounds
quite
as
possible
as
the
other
.
”
“
I
'll
soon
tell
you
if
he
did
!
”
cried
Pocket
.
“
There
were
fourteen
in
the
box
to
start
with
,
because
I
counted
them
,
and
we
only
shot
away
one
at
the
Knaggses
'
before
we
were
cobbed
.
That
left
thirteen
—
six
in
the
revolver
and
seven
in
my
pocket
.
There
are
your
six
,
and
here
's
one
,
two
,
three
,
four
—
and
three
's
seven
!
”
He
swept
them
over
the
cloth
like
crumbs
,
for
her
to
count
them
for
herself
,
while
he
looked
on
with
flaming
cheeks
and
wagging
tongue
.
He
was
beginning
to
see
what
it
all
meant
now
,
but
still
only
what
it
meant
to
him
and
his
.
He
could
look
his
people
in
the
face
again
;
that
was
the
burden
of
his
loud
thanksgiving
.
He
was
as
sure
of
his
innocence
as
though
the
dead
man
had
risen
to
prove
it
.
“
Very
well
,
”
said
Phillida
,
briskly
;
“
then
it
's
all
the
more
reason
you
should
go
this
minute
,
and
catch
the
very
first
train
home
.
”
And
in
her
sudden
anxiety
to
see
him
safely
off
,
she
was
for
helping
him
on
with
the
overcoat
he
had
brought
down
again
with
his
bag
;
but
he
followed
her
out
slowly
,
and
he
would
not
turn
his
back
.
“
I
ca
n't
leave
you
now
,
”
he
said
;
and
she
knew
that
he
saw
it
from
her
side
at
last
.
“
Why
not
?
”
“
Because
the
whole
thing
's
altered
!
I
'm
not
going
to
leave
you
with
a
man
like
that
!
”
So
Pocket
,
without
a
moment
's
thought
either
for
her
immediate
feelings
or
the
ultimate
consequences
to
himself
;
and
yet
with
an
unconscious
air
of
sacrifice
more
wounding
than
his
actual
words
.
She
would
have
flung
open
the
door
,
and
ordered
him
out
,
but
he
got
his
back
to
it
first
.
So
her
big
eyes
blazed
at
him
instead
.
“
You
're
very
kind
!
”
she
cried
.
“
But
suppose
I
do
n't
believe
a
word
you
say
against
my
uncle
behind
his
back
?
”
“
I
shall
wait
and
say
it
to
his
face
.
That
's
another
reason
for
waiting
.
”
“
Do
you
think
you
're
the
person
to
judge
him
—
a
boy
like
you
?
”
“
I
do
n't
say
I
am
.
I
only
say
that
print
—
—
”
“
How
do
you
know
he
took
the
negative
?
”
“
I
do
n't
,
but
—
—
”
“
But
you
jump
to
conclusions
like
a
baby
!
”
cried
the
girl
,
too
quick
for
him
in
following
up
a
confusing
advantage
.
“
I
never
heard
anybody
like
you
for
flying
from
one
wild
notion
to
another
;
first
you
say
he
must
have
made
you
fire
,
though
you
own
you
were
walking
in
your
sleep
with
a
loaded
revolver
,
and
then
you
're
sure
you
never
fired
at
all
,
simply
because
you
find
the
revolver
fully
loaded
after
days
and
days
!
Then
you
find
a
photograph
that
need
n't
necessarily
be
what
we
thought
it
,
that
my
uncle
need
n't
have
taken
even
if
it
was
;
but
you
jump
to
another
conclusion
about
him
,
and
you
dare
to
speak
of
him
to
me
as
though
you
knew
every
horrid
thing
you
chose
to
think
!
As
if
you
knew
him
and
I
did
n't
!
As
if
he
has
n't
been
kind
and
good
to
me
for
years
and
years
—
and
kind
to
you
—
far
too
kind
—
—
”
The
strained
voice
broke
,
tears
were
running
down
her
face
,
and
in
it
and
them
there
was
more
sincerity
.
Grief
,
and
not
anger
,
was
the
well
of
those
bitter
tears
.
And
it
was
in
simple
supplication
,
not
imperiously
any
more
,
that
she
pointed
to
the
door
when
speech
failed
her
.
The
boy
's
answer
was
to
go
close
up
to
her
instead
.
“
Will
you
come
with
me
?
”
he
asked
hoarsely
.
She
shook
her
head
;
she
was
past
surprise
as
well
as
indignation
;
she
could
only
shake
her
head
.
“
My
people
would
be
as
good
to
you
as
ever
he
was
,
”
urged
Pocket
extravagantly
.
“
They
'd
understand
,
and
you
'd
stay
with
us
,
Phillida
!
You
might
live
with
us
altogether
!
”
She
smiled
very
faintly
at
that
.
“
Oh
,
Phillida
,
ca
n't
you
see
that
they
'd
do
anything
for
you
after
all
we
've
been
through
together
?
And
I
,
oh
!
there
's
nothing
I
would
n't
do
if
only
you
'd
come
with
me
now
this
minute
!
I
know
there
's
a
train
about
ten
,
and
I
know
where
we
could
borrow
the
money
on
the
way
.
Come
,
Phillida
,
get
on
your
things
and
come
away
from
all
this
horror
!
”
He
had
gone
on
,
even
into
details
,
encouraged
by
the
tolerance
or
apathy
which
had
allowed
him
to
go
on
at
all
.
He
took
it
for
indecision
;
but
,
whatever
it
was
,
she
shook
it
off
and
declared
once
for
all
that
she
would
never
leave
Dr.
Baumgartner
,
even
if
everything
was
true
about
him
,
and
he
as
mad
as
that
would
make
him
out
.
“
But
he
is
!
”
cried
Pocket
,
with
most
eager
conviction
.
“
That
's
the
only
possible
explanation
,
and
you
'd
believe
it
fast
enough
if
you
'd
heard
all
he
said
to
me
that
first
night
,
and
been
with
me
in
the
dark-room
when
he
developed
his
negative
of
the
man
he
said
I
shot
!
You
'd
see
how
it
all
fits
in
,
and
how
this
other
negative
this
morning
simply
shows
he
was
at
the
bottom
of
that
other
affair
as
well
!
Of
course
he
's
mad
;
but
that
's
the
very
reason
why
I
ca
n't
go
and
leave
you
with
him
.
”
“
He
would
be
as
he
's
always
been
to
me
.
”
“
I
believe
he
would
,
”
said
honest
Pocket
.
“
Then
why
do
n't
you
go
away
and
leave
us
?
”
“
Because
I
ca
n't
.
”
“
Because
you
wo
n't
!
”
“
Very
well
,
because
I
wo
n't
and
never
will
!
But
,
mind
you
,
it
'll
be
your
fault
if
anything
happens
to
either
of
us
after
this
!
”
He
only
meant
it
as
a
last
argument
,
though
he
did
resent
her
fatal
obstinacy
,
and
all
the
obligations
which
it
imposed
upon
himself
.
He
stood
chained
in
fetters
of
her
forging
,
as
it
were
to
the
stake
,
but
he
was
prepared
to
stand
there
like
a
man
,
and
he
did
not
deserve
the
things
she
said
to
him
in
a
fresh
paroxysm
of
unreasonable
wrath
.
He
might
be
a
baby
,
but
he
was
not
a
complete
coward
,
or
simply
trying
to
make
her
miserable
,
as
she
declared
;
neither
,
on
this
occasion
,
was
he
thinking
only
of
himself
.
But
Phillida
seemed
suddenly
to
realise
that
,
for
she
broke
off
with
a
despairing
little
cry
,
and
ran
sobbing
up
the
stairs
.
A
THIRD
CASE
In
days
to
come
,
when
the
boy
had
schooled
himself
not
to
speak
of
these
days
,
nor
to
let
his
mind
dwell
on
their
mystery
and
terror
,
it
was
as
a
day
of
dark
hours
and
vivid
moments
that
he
remembered
the
one
which
Phillida
and
he
began
alone
together
in
her
uncle
's
house
.
Those
endless
hours
were
either
mercifully
forgotten
or
else
contracted
to
an
endurable
minimum
;
but
the
unforgettable
moments
would
light
themselves
up
in
his
memory
without
a
detail
missing
.
There
was
their
first
encounter
at
the
dark-room
door
,
and
Phillida
standing
all
but
barefoot
in
the
ruby
light
,
with
her
glorious
hair
about
her
shoulders
,
a
picture
that
could
never
fade
.
Then
there
was
the
moment
of
the
incriminating
print
,
which
the
sun
wiped
out
even
as
Phillida
stood
with
it
in
her
hands
.
That
moment
merged
itself
in
the
greater
one
of
his
discovery
that
the
revolver
was
fully
loaded
,
his
inspiration
that
neither
it
nor
he
had
done
the
fatal
mischief
in
the
Park
.
Then
she
was
begging
him
to
go
(
she
who
would
keep
him
the
time
before
!
)
and
he
entreating
her
to
come
with
him
,
and
neither
giving
way
an
inch
,
so
that
they
quarrelled
just
when
they
should
have
stuck
together
,
and
she
ran
away
in
tears
,
and
he
stayed
below
in
a
glow
of
anger
which
dissolved
his
fears
like
snow
in
May
.
That
was
the
beginning
of
a
black
hour
and
more
.
Phillida
was
never
to
be
forgiven
,
then
;
he
was
staying
there
at
his
peril
,
staying
absolutely
on
her
account
,
and
so
far
from
giving
him
the
slightest
credit
for
it
,
or
a
single
word
of
encouragement
,
she
said
all
sorts
of
things
and
was
off
before
he
could
answer
one
of
them
.
It
was
not
for
Pocket
to
see
the
many
ironies
of
that
moment
,
and
not
for
him
to
recognise
the
tonic
property
of
his
heroic
grievance
.
He
could
only
see
himself
at
the
foot
of
those
stairs
,
first
gnashing
his
teeth
and
not
sorry
he
had
made
her
cry
,
then
sitting
down
with
his
eye
on
the
front
door
,
revolver
in
hand
,
to
await
the
click
of
the
doctor
's
key
.
Another
click
was
to
answer
it
;
and
at
the
point
of
the
cocked
revolver
Baumgartner
was
to
have
made
a
clean
breast
of
his
crimes
,
not
only
to
the
giant-killer
at
the
foot
of
the
stairs
but
to
the
girl
he
meant
to
call
to
witness
with
her
own
ears
.
Pocket
saw
himself
a
desperate
character
just
then
,
and
one
not
incapable
of
desperate
action
had
the
climax
only
come
at
once
.
But
he
had
more
than
an
hour
of
it
alone
at
his
post
;
he
had
a
whole
hot
forenoon
of
unmitigated
suspense
,
of
sickening
alarms
from
tradesmen
's
carts
,
boys
whistling
past
the
house
as
though
they
were
not
in
a
wicked
world
at
all
,
and
then
a
piano-organ
that
redoubled
his
watchfulness
,
and
spoilt
some
tunes
for
him
for
ever
.
Once
he
did
hear
shambling
feet
on
the
very
steps
outside
.
Once
was
quite
enough
,
though
it
was
but
an
advertisement
for
cast-off
clothing
(
and
false
teeth
)
that
came
fluttering
through
the
letter-box
.
Pocket
was
left
in
such
a
state
that
he
would
not
have
backed
himself
to
hit
the
door
from
the
stairs
;
and
he
put
the
chain
on
it
,
thinking
to
interview
the
doctor
over
that
,
in
the
manner
of
old
Miss
Harbottle
.
So
it
happened
that
the
first
significant
sound
was
entirely
lost
upon
him
,
because
he
was
listening
for
one
so
much
nearer
at
hand
,
until
Phillida
ran
downstairs
and
almost
over
him
where
he
sat
.
He
got
up
to
make
way
stiffly
,
but
a
glance
assured
him
that
the
quarrel
was
over
on
her
side
.
The
great
eyes
were
fixed
appealingly
upon
him
,
but
with
a
distressing
look
which
he
had
done
nothing
to
provoke
.
Not
before
then
was
he
aware
of
another
duet
between
newsboys
coming
nearer
and
nearer
,
and
shouting
each
other
down
as
they
came
.
“
You
hear
that
?
”
she
whispered
,
as
if
not
to
drown
a
note
.
“
I
do
now
.
”
“
Do
you
hear
what
it
is
?
”
Pocket
listened
,
and
caught
a
word
he
was
not
likely
to
miss.
“
Something
fresh
about
the
murder
,
”
said
he
grimly
.
“
No
;
it
's
another
one
,
”
she
shuddered
.
“
Ca
n't
you
hear
?
“
Another
awful
murder
!
”
Now
they
're
saying
something
else
.
”
“
It
is
something
about
the
Park
.
”
Pocket
stuck
to
his
idea
.
“
And
something
else
about
some
“
well-known
”
—
I
ca
n't
hear
what
!
”
“
No
more
can
I
.
”
“
I
'll
open
the
door
.
”
She
opened
it
on
the
chain
as
he
had
left
it
.
That
did
not
help
them
.
The
shouting
had
passed
the
end
of
their
quiet
road
.
It
was
dying
away
again
in
the
distance
.
“
I
must
go
out
and
get
one
,
”
said
Phillida
.
“
Some
well-known
man
!
”
“
You
're
not
thinking
of
the
doctor
,
surely
?
”
“
I
do
n't
know
!
I
ca
n't
think
where
he
is
.
”
“
But
you
're
worse
than
I
am
,
if
you
jump
to
that
!
”
said
Pocket
,
smiling
to
reassure
her
.
He
did
not
smile
when
she
had
run
out
as
she
was
;
he
had
shut
the
door
after
her
,
and
he
was
waiting
to
open
it
in
a
fever
of
impatience
.
Dr.
Baumgartner
had
left
the
house
before
six
o'clock
in
the
morning
;
now
it
was
after
twelve
.
If
some
tragedy
had
overtaken
him
in
his
turn
,
then
there
was
an
end
to
every
terror
,
and
for
him
a
better
end
than
he
might
meet
with
if
he
lived
.
The
boy
remembered
Him
who
desireth
not
the
death
of
a
sinner
,
and
was
ashamed
of
his
own
thought
;
but
that
did
not
alter
it
.
Unless
his
fears
and
his
surmises
were
all
equally
unfounded
,
better
for
everybody
,
and
best
of
all
for
Phillida
,
if
this
criminal
maniac
came
to
his
end
without
public
exposure
of
his
crimes
.
Pocket
may
have
misconceived
his
own
attitude
of
mind
,
as
his
elders
and
betters
do
daily
;
he
may
have
been
thinking
of
his
own
skin
more
than
he
knew
,
or
wanted
to
know
.
In
that
case
he
had
his
reward
,
for
the
murdered
man
was
not
Dr.
Baumgartner
.
Phillida
's
first
words
on
returning
were
to
that
effect
;
and
yet
she
trembled
as
though
they
were
not
the
truth
.
“
Who
was
it
,
then
?
”
the
schoolboy
asked
suspiciously
.
“
Sir
Joseph
Schelmerdine
.
”
“
So
he
was
the
well-known
man
!
”
He
was
well
known
even
to
the
boy
by
name
,
but
that
was
all
.
He
had
seen
it
in
newspapers
,
and
he
thought
he
had
heard
it
execrated
by
Baumgartner
himself
in
one
of
his
little
digs
at
England
.
Pocket
was
not
sure
about
this
,
but
he
mentioned
his
impression
,
and
Phillida
nodded
with
swimming
eyes
.
“
Did
the
doctor
know
him
?
”
“
Not
personally
;
but
he
thought
him
a
European
danger
.
”
“
Why
?
”
“
I
ca
n't
tell
you
.
It
was
something
to
do
with
politics
and
gold-mines
,
and
some
financial
paper
.
I
never
understood
.
”
“
May
I
see
the
paper
you
've
brought
in
?
”
The
girl
held
it
tight
in
her
hand
,
and
tighter
still
as
he
held
out
his
.
“
I
'd
rather
you
did
n't
,
”
she
said
.
“
Then
there
's
something
you
have
n't
told
me
.
”
“
There
is
!
”
“
I
shall
know
it
sooner
or
later
.
”
“
I
know
you
will
,
and
I
know
what
you
'll
think
!
You
may
think
what
you
like
,
and
still
be
wrong
!
”
There
was
a
pause
between
the
sentences
,
and
in
the
pause
the
boy
found
the
paper
at
his
feet
.
There
was
no
need
to
open
it
at
the
place
;
it
was
so
folded
already
,
the
news
standing
out
in
its
leaded
type
,
and
more
of
it
in
the
late
corner
.
Sir
Joseph
Schelmerdine
,
Bart
.
,
M.P.
,
the
well-known
proprietor
of
the
Money-maker
,
had
been
shot
dead
in
front
of
his
house
in
Park
Lane
.
The
murder
had
been
committed
in
the
early
hours
of
the
morning
,
before
anybody
was
about
except
Sir
Joseph
and
his
groom
,
and
the
person
whom
the
groom
described
as
the
only
possible
murderer
.
The
man
had
just
seen
his
master
mounted
for
the
early
morning
ride
,
and
had
left
him
in
conversation
with
a
photographer
representing
himself
as
concerned
with
the
press
,
and
desirous
of
obtaining
an
equestrian
photograph
for
his
paper
.
The
groom
thought
it
was
to
be
taken
in
the
Park
,
and
was
himself
on
his
way
back
to
the
mews
when
the
riderless
horse
overtook
him
.
Mounting
the
animal
,
he
had
galloped
round
to
find
Sir
Joseph
dead
in
the
road
,
and
no
trace
of
the
“
photographer
”
but
a
false
beard
and
spectacles
which
he
had
evidently
discarded
in
his
flight
,
and
which
unfortunately
precluded
a
close
description
of
his
appearance
.
But
a
hue
and
cry
had
been
started
,
and
it
was
believed
that
the
criminal
was
still
in
hiding
in
the
immediate
neighbourhood
,
which
was
being
subjected
to
a
thorough
search
under
the
direction
of
responsible
officers
from
Scotland
Yard
.
Such
was
the
news
which
the
young
girl
had
shrunk
from
showing
to
her
companion
.
She
had
left
him
,
indeed
,
to
read
it
by
himself
.
And
the
next
thing
he
remembered
was
finding
her
quite
insensible
in
the
big
chair
in
the
back
room
.
The
afternoon
was
a
blank
broken
by
no
more
moments
such
as
these
.
It
was
a
period
of
dull
misery
and
gnawing
dread
;
but
the
pair
saw
each
other
through
it
,
they
were
not
divided
any
more
.
Now
they
listened
for
his
step
no
longer
,
but
for
more
newsboys
crying
his
capture
to
the
world
.
And
in
the
hours
that
they
spent
thus
listening
,
and
listening
,
the
girl
had
much
to
say
,
that
it
did
her
good
to
say
,
about
this
Dr.
Baumgartner
as
she
had
known
and
almost
loved
him
in
the
past
.
Lovable
,
however
,
he
had
never
been
,
though
more
than
good
and
kind
to
her
for
all
that
.
He
had
never
taken
her
into
his
life
,
or
entered
into
hers
,
in
the
many
years
they
had
been
more
or
less
together
.
All
she
really
knew
of
him
was
from
her
mother
,
whose
elder
sister
he
had
married
soon
after
the
Franco-Prussian
War
,
and
lost
soon
after
marriage
.
He
must
have
been
settled
in
England
many
years
before
Phillida
's
mother
,
herself
an
Englishman
's
widow
,
came
to
keep
house
for
him
.
The
girl
could
not
remember
her
father
,
but
her
mother
had
lived
to
see
her
in
her
teens
,
and
in
her
lifetime
Dr.
Baumgartner
had
seemed
much
as
other
men
.
It
was
only
of
late
years
that
he
had
withdrawn
from
a
world
in
which
he
was
justly
honoured
,
and
buried
himself
ever
deeper
in
his
books
and
his
photographic
experiments
.
His
niece
had
never
known
anything
of
these
;
he
had
told
her
nothing
,
and
she
had
always
gone
in
awe
of
him
.
But
he
had
sent
her
to
school
,
he
was
going
to
send
her
to
college
,
he
had
only
just
given
her
six
months
in
Switzerland
.
It
was
during
those
months
that
all
his
eccentricities
had
become
pronounced
;
that
he
had
given
up
servants
,
and
taken
to
doing
half
the
work
of
the
house
himself
,
with
the
casual
aid
of
charwomen
,
and
saving
the
other
half
by
having
the
meals
in
from
a
restaurant
.
Phillida
had
no
influence
with
him
in
these
or
any
other
matters
.
She
only
blamed
herself
for
not
having
realised
the
change
in
him
and
done
more
to
save
him
from
himself
.
He
had
done
so
much
for
her
,
whatever
madness
might
have
overtaken
him
in
the
end
;
her
own
kinsfolk
so
much
less
,
for
all
their
opulent
integrity
.
Nothing
could
make
her
forget
what
he
had
done
.
She
never
could
or
would
desert
him
;
it
was
no
use
asking
her
again
;
but
she
took
her
callow
champion
's
hand
,
and
wrung
it
with
her
final
answer
,
which
was
unaccompanied
by
further
prayers
for
his
departure
.
And
Pocket
could
understand
her
now
,
though
it
was
no
consecutive
tale
that
he
heard
,
but
a
very
chaos
of
excuses
and
extenuations
,
regrets
,
suppositions
,
and
not
always
revelant
recollections
,
of
which
he
had
to
make
what
he
could
in
his
own
mind
.
What
he
made
was
a
narrative
so
natural
that
he
could
not
believe
it
was
the
life-story
of
a
murderer
.
His
own
convictions
became
preposterous
in
his
own
eyes
.
What
had
he
been
thinking
about
all
day
?
Was
that
the
way
a
murderer
would
behave
?
Was
this
the
way
a
murderer
would
live
,
in
these
surroundings
,
with
those
books
about
him
,
with
that
little
billiard-table
in
the
next
room
?
Had
those
waxen
murderers
in
the
garish
vault
lived
ordinary
lives
as
well
?
Pocket
had
only
thought
of
them
as
committing
their
dreadful
deeds
,
yet
now
he
could
only
think
of
Baumgartner
as
living
this
ordinary
life
.
The
mood
passed
,
but
it
would
recur
as
sure
as
Phillida
thought
of
something
else
to
be
said
for
Dr.
Baumgartner
;
it
was
the
creature
of
her
feeling
for
him
,
and
of
the
schoolboy
's
feeling
for
her
.
If
he
could
have
convicted
himself
of
the
fatal
affair
in
the
Park
,
and
so
cleared
Baumgartner
of
all
blood-guiltiness
whatsoever
,
in
that
or
any
other
case
,
he
would
have
done
it
for
Phillida
's
sake
that
afternoon
.
But
with
every
hour
of
the
doctor
's
absence
suspicions
multiplied
.
Phillida
herself
was
a
prey
to
them
.
She
was
almost
as
ready
to
recall
symptoms
of
incipient
insanity
as
instances
of
personal
kindness
;
if
one
lost
one
's
reason
,
she
broke
a
long
silence
to
contend
,
there
could
be
no
question
of
regret
and
wrong
.
She
was
not
so
sure
about
crime
and
punishment
.
Pocket
,
of
course
,
said
there
could
be
no
question
of
that
either
;
but
in
his
heart
he
wondered
how
much
method
they
must
prove
to
hang
a
madman
.
The
evening
meal
had
been
taken
in
,
but
that
was
all
.
The
girl
and
boy
had
no
thought
of
sitting
down
to
it
;
she
had
made
tea
not
long
before
;
and
strong
excitement
is
its
own
meat
and
drink
.
They
were
sitting
silently
together
in
the
room
at
the
back
.
The
scented
summer
dusk
was
deepening
every
minute
.
Suddenly
there
was
a
sound
of
small
branches
breaking
in
the
garden
.
Pocket
peeped
out
,
standing
back
from
the
window
at
her
entreaty
.
The
laburnum
by
the
wall
was
shaking
violently
,
pouring
its
golden
rain
into
both
gardens
,
and
the
bush
beneath
it
looked
alive
;
a
tall
figure
rose
out
of
it
,
and
came
creeping
towards
the
little
conservatory
,
bent
double
,
and
brushing
the
soil
from
his
clothes
as
he
advanced
with
long
and
stealthy
strides
.
It
was
Dr.
Baumgartner
,
in
a
cap
pulled
down
over
his
eyes
,
and
the
old
alpaca
jacket
.
He
had
a
newspaper
parcel
under
his
arm
.
The
boy
and
girl
were
in
the
dark
angle
between
the
window
and
the
door
;
but
it
was
only
comparative
darkness
,
and
Baumgartner
might
have
seen
them
;
they
were
clasping
hands
as
they
shrank
away
from
him
with
one
accord
.
But
he
did
not
seem
to
see
them
at
all
.
He
stretched
himself
,
as
though
he
found
it
a
relief
to
stand
upright
,
and
more
mould
trickled
from
his
garments
in
the
act
;
he
took
off
the
alpaca
jacket
,
and
shook
it
as
one
shakes
a
handkerchief
.
There
could
have
been
nothing
in
the
pockets
,
certainly
no
weapon
,
and
if
he
had
a
hip-pocket
there
was
none
in
that
,
for
his
gaunt
figure
stood
out
plainly
enough
in
the
middle
of
the
room
.
There
was
still
the
newspaper
parcel
;
he
had
put
it
down
on
one
of
the
walnut-tables
.
He
now
removed
the
paper
;
it
fell
at
Pocket
's
feet
,
a
newspaper
and
nothing
more
;
and
nothing
had
come
out
of
it
but
the
stereoscopic
camera
,
that
either
watcher
could
detect
.
And
he
passed
through
the
room
without
taking
the
least
notice
of
either
of
them
,
whether
he
saw
them
or
not
;
and
they
heard
him
go
upstairs
,
and
shut
the
door
,
and
then
his
footsteps
overhead
.
“
I
'll
go
up
and
tackle
him
at
once
,
”
said
Pocket
,
through
his
set
teeth
;
but
Phillida
would
not
hear
of
it
.
“
No
!
I
must
go
first
and
see
if
there
's
nothing
I
can
get
him
;
he
may
n't
have
had
anything
all
day
.
There
's
no
need
for
you
to
come
at
all
—
I
believe
he
's
forgotten
all
about
us
both
!
”
“
Not
he
!
”
whispered
Pocket
,
as
the
door
opened
overhead
.
“
Here
he
comes
!
”
He
could
not
help
gripping
his
revolver
as
the
stairs
creaked
again
under
Dr.
Baumgartner
;
he
had
gripped
it
more
than
once
already
with
the
hand
that
was
not
holding
Phillida
's
.
The
doctor
was
coming
down
in
a
hurry
,
as
though
he
had
indeed
forgotten
something
.
But
he
passed
the
open
drawing-room
door
;
they
saw
him
pass
,
jingling
a
bunch
of
keys
,
and
never
so
much
as
glancing
in
on
the
way
.
It
was
the
dark-room
door
he
opened
.
Now
he
would
find
out
everything
!
They
heard
a
match
struck
,
and
saw
the
faint
light
turn
into
a
strong
deep
crimson
glow
.
The
door
shut
.
The
children
stood
listening
in
the
dark
.
Running
water
,
and
the
chink
of
glass
;
the
tapping
of
a
stoppered
bottle
;
the
opening
of
the
dark
slide
;
these
stages
the
younger
photographer
followed
as
though
he
were
again
looking
on
.
Then
there
was
a
long
period
without
a
sound
.
“
He
's
developing
now
!
”
whispered
Pocket
,
close
to
the
folding-doors
.
He
caught
the
sound
of
laboured
breathing
on
the
other
side
.
“
There
it
is
—
there
it
is
—
there
it
is
!
”
cried
the
doctor
's
voice
in
mingled
ecstasy
and
mad
excitement
.
A
deep
sigh
announced
the
blackening
of
the
plate
at
the
conclusion
of
the
first
process
.
A
tap
ran
for
a
moment
;
interminable
minutes
ensued
.
“
It
's
gone
!
It
's
gone
again
!
”
cried
the
wild
voice
,
with
a
sob
;
“
it
's
gone
,
gone
,
gone
like
all
the
rest
!
”
One
listener
waited
for
the
passionate
smashing
of
the
negative
as
before
;
but
that
did
not
happen
again
;
and
then
he
wondered
if
it
was
being
put
straight
into
the
rack
with
the
others
,
if
the
damage
to
the
locker
had
been
discovered
at
last
.
He
never
knew
.
The
door
opened
.
The
red
glow
showed
for
a
moment
in
the
passage
,
then
went
out
.
The
door
shut
behind
Baumgartner
,
and
again
he
passed
the
drawing-room
,
a
bent
figure
,
without
looking
in
.
And
the
flagging
step
on
the
stairs
bore
no
resemblance
to
the
one
which
had
come
hurrying
down
not
many
minutes
before
.
“
I
must
go
to
him
!
”
said
Phillida
in
broken
undertones
,
and
her
grief
communicated
itself
to
the
other
young
sympathetic
soul
,
for
all
the
base
fears
he
had
to
fight
alone
.
Personal
safety
,
little
as
she
might
think
of
it
,
was
the
essence
of
her
position
as
opposed
to
his
;
and
he
was
of
the
type
that
thinks
of
everything
.
She
left
him
listening
breathless
in
the
dark
.
And
in
the
dark
she
found
him
when
at
length
she
returned
to
report
the
doctor
busy
writing
at
his
desk
;
but
a
pin
's
head
of
blue
gas
glimmered
where
there
had
been
none
before
,
and
a
paper
which
had
been
trodden
underfoot
now
rustled
in
Pocket
's
hand
.
“
Does
he
know
I
'm
here
?
”
he
asked
.
“
I
do
n't
think
so
.
We
never
mentioned
you
.
I
believe
he
's
forgotten
your
existence
altogether
;
he
began
by
looking
at
me
as
though
he
'd
forgotten
mine
.
He
says
he
wants
nothing
,
except
time
to
write
.
He
seems
so
strange
—
so
old
!
”
Again
the
break
in
her
voice
,
and
again
the
boyish
sympathy
in
his
.
“
I
wonder
if
something
would
be
any
comfort
to
you
?
”
“
I
do
n't
think
so
.
What
is
it
?
”
“
Something
I
saw
in
the
paper
he
brought
in
with
him
.
I
lit
the
gas
while
you
were
upstairs
.
”
Phillida
turned
it
out
again
without
comment
.
“
Nothing
that
you
saw
can
make
any
difference
to
me
,
”
she
sighed
.
“
Do
you
remember
my
saying
there
must
be
another
man
in
these
—
mysteries
?
”
“
I
think
I
do
.
What
difference
does
it
make
?
Besides
,
the
man
you
meant
is
in
prison
.
”
“
He
is
n't
!
”
“
You
said
he
was
?
”
“
He
was
let
out
early
this
morning
!
Let
me
light
the
gas
while
you
read
it
for
yourself
.
”
But
Phillida
had
no
desire
to
read
it
for
herself
.
“
I
doubt
if
there
's
anything
in
that
,
”
she
said
;
“
but
what
if
there
were
?
Does
it
make
it
any
better
if
a
man
has
an
accomplice
in
his
crimes
?
If
he
's
guilty
at
all
,
it
makes
it
all
the
worse
.
”
THE
FOURTH
CASE
The
boy
and
girl
sat
long
and
late
in
the
open
window
at
the
back
of
the
house
.
The
room
would
have
been
in
darkness
but
for
a
flood
of
moonlight
pouring
over
them
.
The
only
light
in
the
house
was
in
the
room
above
,
and
they
only
saw
its
glimmer
on
the
garden
when
a
casual
cloud
hid
the
moon
;
but
once
Pocket
had
crept
out
into
the
garden
to
steal
a
look
at
the
lighted
window
itself
;
and
what
he
saw
was
the
shadow
of
a
huge
bent
head
smoking
a
huge
bent
pipe
,
and
dense
clouds
of
shadow
floating
up
the
wall
and
over
the
ceiling
.
It
seemed
hours
since
they
had
heard
footstep
or
other
sound
upstairs
or
anywhere
.
There
had
been
a
brisk
interval
—
and
then
an
end
—
of
more
or
less
distant
hansom-bells
and
motor-horns
.
There
was
no
longer
even
a
certain
minute
intermittent
trembling
of
trifles
on
the
walnut-tables
,
to
which
Pocket
had
become
subconsciously
accustomed
in
that
house
,
so
that
he
noticed
its
absence
more
than
the
thing
itself
.
It
was
as
though
the
whole
town
was
at
rest
,
and
the
tunnels
under
the
town
,
and
every
single
soul
above
or
below
ground
,
but
those
two
white
faces
in
the
moonlight
,
and
perhaps
one
other
overhead
.
Pocket
wondered
;
it
was
so
long
since
a
single
sound
had
come
down
to
their
ears
.
He
wanted
to
steal
out
and
look
up
again
.
Phillida
was
against
it
;
perhaps
she
was
wondering
too
.
Pocket
,
as
usual
,
saw
what
he
did
see
so
very
vividly
,
in
his
mind
's
eye
,
that
he
shivered
and
was
asked
if
he
felt
cold
.
The
whispered
debate
that
followed
was
the
longest
conversation
they
had
that
night
.
The
window
was
not
shut
as
a
result
of
it
,
but
Pocket
fetched
his
overcoat
on
tiptoe
,
and
it
just
went
over
both
their
shoulders
,
when
the
chairs
were
drawn
as
near
together
as
they
would
go
.
The
ragged
little
garden
was
brimming
over
with
moonlight
from
wall
to
wall
.
The
unkempt
grass
looked
pale
and
ghostly
,
like
the
skin
of
some
monstrous
wolf
.
The
moon
rolled
high
in
the
sky
and
clouds
flew
above
and
below
the
moon
,
varying
in
pace
as
well
.
Yet
it
was
a
still
night
,
and
Pocket
did
not
think
that
he
had
broken
the
stillness
,
until
the
door
burst
open
behind
them
,
and
Baumgartner
stood
there
,
holding
his
lamp
aloft
.
The
wick
was
turned
too
high
,
the
flame
ran
up
the
chimney
in
the
draught
,
and
for
an
instant
a
demoniac
face
flared
up
behind
it
.
Then
the
chimney
cracked
,
and
fell
in
a
tinkling
shower
,
and
the
doctor
was
seen
whirling
a
naked
tongue
of
fire
about
his
head
.
The
boy
drew
back
as
the
lamp
flew
through
the
open
window
,
within
an
inch
of
his
nose
,
and
crashed
upon
the
path
outside
.
The
trio
stood
without
a
word
in
the
moonbeams
;
but
the
doctor
was
breathing
hard
through
his
teeth
,
like
a
man
wrestling
with
himself
;
and
at
last
he
laughed
sardonically
as
though
he
had
won
.
“
A
lamp
like
that
's
a
dangerous
thing
,
”
said
he
,
with
a
kind
of
forced
solemnity
and
a
shake
of
the
head
;
“
you
never
know
what
may
happen
when
a
lamp
does
that
!
I
'm
glad
the
window
was
open
;
it
did
n't
go
very
near
my
young
fellow
,
I
hope
?
”
And
he
took
Pocket
playfully
by
the
ear
,
but
pinched
it
so
hard
that
the
boy
could
have
screamed
with
pain
.
“
It
would
have
served
you
right
,
”
continued
the
doctor
,
before
Pocket
could
find
his
tongue
,
“
for
sitting
up
so
late
,
and
keeping
a
young
lady
from
her
bed
to
bear
you
company
.
Come
,
Phillida
!
I
shall
have
another
word
with
you
,
young
fellow
.
”
The
two
words
to
the
girl
were
in
a
different
key
from
all
the
rest
.
They
were
tolerant
,
conciliatory
,
tenderly
persuasive
.
The
rest
was
suavely
sinister
;
it
made
her
hesitate
;
but
Pocket
had
the
presence
of
mind
to
bid
her
a
cheery
good-night
,
and
she
went
,
closely
followed
by
Baumgartner
.
Posted
once
more
at
the
open
door
,
the
boy
heard
Baumgartner
on
the
next
flight
,
soothing
and
affectionate
still
,
allaying
her
fears
;
and
his
own
surged
into
his
throat
.
He
looked
wildly
about
him
,
and
an
idea
came
.
He
opened
the
front
door
wide
,
and
then
stole
back
through
the
conservatory
into
the
moonlight
.
He
heard
Baumgartner
coming
down
before
he
gained
the
garden
.
He
tore
to
the
end
of
it
,
and
cowered
in
the
shadow
of
the
far
wall
.
The
doctor
came
running
into
the
moonlit
room
,
but
not
for
a
minute
;
it
looked
as
though
he
had
run
out
first
into
the
road
.
In
the
room
he
lit
the
gas
,
and
Pocket
saw
him
have
a
look
in
all
the
corners
,
but
hardly
the
look
of
a
seeker
who
expects
to
find
.
Some
long
moments
he
stood
out
horribly
at
the
open
window
,
gazing
straight
at
the
spot
where
the
fugitive
crouched
a
few
inches
out
of
the
moonlight
and
hugged
the
revolver
in
his
pocket
.
He
seemed
to
see
nothing
to
bring
him
out
that
way
,
for
he
closed
that
window
and
put
out
the
gas
.
The
trembling
watcher
heard
the
front
door
shut
soon
after
,
and
saw
another
light
in
Baumgartner
's
room
the
minute
after
that
,
and
the
blind
drawn
down
.
But
on
the
blind
there
lagged
a
cloud-capped
shadow
till
the
doctor
's
pipe
was
well
in
blast
.
There
were
no
more
shadows
after
that
.
The
moon
moved
round
to
the
right
,
and
set
behind
the
next
house
.
The
sky
grew
pale
,
and
the
lighted
blind
paler
still
,
until
Baumgartner
drew
it
up
before
putting
out
his
light
.
Pocket
was
now
too
stiff
to
stir
;
but
it
was
not
necessary
;
the
doctor
had
scarcely
looked
out
.
There
was
a
twitter
of
sparrows
all
down
the
road
,
garden
answering
to
garden
.
The
sun
came
up
behind
Pocket
's
wall
,
behind
the
taller
houses
further
back
.
And
Baumgartner
reappeared
at
his
window
for
one
instant
in
his
cap.
The
front
door
shut
again
.
Down
the
garden
ran
Pocket
without
the
least
precaution
now
.
There
was
a
gravel
passage
between
the
tradesmen
's
entrance
,
on
the
detached
side
of
the
house
,
and
the
garden
wall
.
This
passage
was
closed
by
a
gate
,
and
the
gate
was
locked
,
but
Pocket
threw
himself
over
it
almost
in
his
stride
and
darted
over
into
the
open
road
.
Just
then
it
was
a
perfectly
empty
road
,
but
for
a
gaunt
black
figure
stalking
away
in
the
distance
.
An
overwhelming
curiosity
urged
the
boy
to
follow
,
but
an
equal
dread
of
detection
kept
him
cowering
in
gateways
,
until
Baumgartner
took
the
turning
past
the
shops
without
a
backward
glance
.
Pocket
promptly
raced
to
that
corner
,
and
got
another
glimpse
of
his
leader
before
he
vanished
round
the
next
.
So
the
spasmodic
chase
continued
over
a
zigzag
course
;
but
at
every
turn
the
distance
between
them
was
a
little
less
.
Neither
looked
round
,
and
once
the
boy
's
feet
were
actually
on
the
man
's
shadow
;
for
half
the
streets
were
raked
with
level
sunlight
,
but
the
other
half
were
ladders
of
dusk
with
rungs
of
light
at
the
gaps
between
the
houses
.
All
were
dustier
,
dirtier
,
and
emptier
than
is
ever
the
case
by
night
or
day
,
because
this
was
neither
one
nor
the
other
,
though
the
sun
was
up
to
make
the
most
of
dust
,
dirt
,
and
emptiness
.
It
was
before
even
the
cleansing
hour
of
the
scavenger
and
the
water-cart
.
A
dead
cat
was
sprawling
horribly
in
one
deserted
reach
of
wood-paving
.
And
a
motor-car
at
full
speed
in
a
thoroughfare
calling
itself
King
's
Road
,
which
Pocket
was
about
to
cross
,
had
at
all
events
the
excuse
of
a
visible
mile
of
asphalt
to
itself
.
Pocket
drew
back
to
let
it
pass
,
without
looking
twice
at
the
car
itself
,
which
indeed
was
disguised
out
of
knowledge
in
the
promiscuous
mire
of
many
countries
;
but
the
red
eyes
behind
the
driver
's
goggles
were
not
so
slow
.
Down
went
his
feet
on
clutch
and
brake
without
a
second
's
interval
;
round
spun
the
car
in
a
skid
that
tore
studs
from
the
tyres
,
and
fetched
her
up
against
the
kerb
with
a
shivered
wheel
.
Pocket
started
forward
with
a
cry
;
but
at
that
moment
a
ponderous
step
fell
close
behind
him
;
his
arm
was
seized
,
and
he
was
dragged
in
custody
across
the
road
.
“
Your
boy
,
I
think
!
”
cried
one
whom
he
had
never
seen
before
,
and
did
not
now
,
being
locked
already
in
the
motorist
's
arms
.
“
When
did
you
find
him
?
”
the
father
asked
when
he
was
man
enough
,
still
patting
Pocket
's
shoulders
as
if
he
were
a
dog
.
“
Only
last
night
when
I
wired
.
”
“
And
where
?
”
“
In
the
house
where
you
and
I
could
n't
make
ourselves
heard
.
”
The
schoolboy
flared
up
through
all
his
emotion
.
“
Why
,
I
never
saw
you
before
this
minute
!
”
“
Well
,
I
've
had
my
eye
on
you
,
more
or
less
,
for
a
day
or
two
.
”
“
Then
why
did
n't
you
wire
before
?
”
demanded
Mr.
Upton
,
quite
ready
to
mask
his
own
emotion
with
a
little
heat
.
“
I
did
n't
get
it
till
after
nine
o'clock
—
too
late
for
the
evening
train
—
but
I
was
n't
going
to
waste
three
hours
with
a
forty-horser
eating
its
head
off
!
So
here
I
am
,
on
my
way
to
the
address
you
gave
.
”
“
It
was
plumb
opposite
Baumgartner
's
.
I
mounted
guard
there
the
very
night
you
left
.
He
came
out
twenty
minutes
ago
,
and
your
boy
after
him
!
”
“
But
what
does
it
all
mean
,
Thrush
?
What
on
earth
were
you
doing
there
,
my
dear
boy
?
”
The
notes
of
anger
and
affection
were
struck
in
ludicrously
quick
succession
;
but
the
first
was
repeated
on
the
boy
's
hang-dog
admission
that
he
had
been
hiding
.
“
Hiding
,
Tony
?
”
Thrush
himself
seemed
surprised
at
the
expression
.
“
But
at
all
events
we
found
you
better
employed
,
”
he
said
to
Pocket
,
“
and
the
sooner
we
all
take
up
the
chase
again
the
more
chance
we
shall
have
of
laying
this
rascal
by
the
heels
.
”
“
Take
it
up
,
then
!
”
snapped
Mr.
Upton
.
“
Jump
into
the
motor
,
and
bring
the
brute
to
me
when
you
've
got
him
!
I
want
to
speak
to
my
boy
.
”
He
did
not
realise
the
damage
done
to
his
car
,
or
listen
to
a
word
that
passed
between
Thrush
and
his
chauffeur
;
he
had
eyes
only
for
those
of
his
child
who
had
been
lost
but
was
found
,
and
not
a
thought
in
his
head
outside
the
story
he
extracted
piecemeal
on
the
spot
.
Poor
Pocket
told
it
very
volubly
and
ill
;
he
would
not
confine
himself
to
simple
facts
.
He
stated
his
suspicion
of
Baumgartner
's
complicity
in
the
Hyde
Park
affair
as
though
he
knew
it
for
a
fact
;
cited
the
murders
in
Holland
Walk
and
Park
Lane
as
obvious
pieces
of
the
same
handiwork
,
and
yet
declared
his
conviction
that
the
actual
hand
was
not
Dr.
Baumgartner
's
at
all
.
“
But
why
should
you
think
he
had
an
accomplice
,
Tony
?
”
“
He
was
unarmed
the
other
morning
.
I
'm
quite
positive
of
that
.
And
his
niece
,
who
lives
with
him
,
has
never
seen
a
firearm
of
any
kind
in
the
house
.
”
“
Well
,
he
's
villain
enough
to
hang
,
if
ever
there
was
one
!
It
's
time
we
laid
hold
of
him
.
Where
's
Mr.
Thrush
?
I
thought
you
'd
taken
him
on
in
the
car
?
”
This
to
the
chauffeur
,
now
the
centre
of
the
carrion
crowd
that
gathers
about
the
body
of
any
disabled
motor
.
The
chauffeur
,
a
countryman
like
his
master
,
was
enjoying
himself
vastly
with
a
surreptitious
cigarette
and
sardonic
mutterings
on
the
cause
of
his
scattered
spokes
;
the
facts
being
that
he
had
nearly
fallen
asleep
at
his
wheel
,
which
Mr.
Upton
had
incontinently
taken
into
his
own
less
experienced
hands
.
“
The
car
wo
n't
take
anybody
anywhere
to-day
,
”
explained
the
chauffeur
,
with
his
cigarette
behind
his
back
.
“
I
shall
have
to
get
a
lorry
to
take
the
car
.
”
He
held
his
head
on
one
side
suddenly
.
“
There
's
a
bit
o
'
tyre
trouble
for
somebody
!
”
he
cried
,
grimly
.
Indeed
,
a
sharp
crack
had
come
from
the
direction
of
the
river
,
not
unlike
the
bursting
of
a
heavy
tyre
;
but
Pocket
Upton
did
not
think
it
was
that
.
He
caught
his
father
's
arm
,
and
whispered
in
his
father
's
ear
,
and
they
plunged
together
into
a
side
street
broader
than
the
asphalt
thoroughfare
,
but
with
scarcely
a
break
in
either
phalanx
of
drab
mediocre
dwellings
,
and
not
a
creature
stirring
except
themselves
and
a
few
who
followed
.
The
hog
's
back
of
a
still
more
deserted
bridge
arched
itself
at
the
foot
of
the
street
,
its
suspension
cables
showing
against
the
sky
in
foreshortened
curves
.
As
they
ran
a
peculiarly
shrill
whistle
cut
the
morning
air
like
a
streak
of
sound
.
“
P'lice
!
”
screamed
one
of
those
bringing
up
the
rear
,
and
they
easily
spurted
past
father
and
son
,
each
already
contending
with
his
own
infirmity
.
Mr.
Upton
was
dangerously
scarlet
in
the
neck
,
and
Pocket
panting
as
he
had
not
done
for
days
.
In
sad
labour
they
drew
near
the
suspension
bridge
,
to
a
crescendo
accompaniment
on
the
police
whistle
.
It
was
evidently
being
blown
on
the
Embankment
to
the
right
of
the
bridge
,
and
already
with
considerable
effect
.
As
the
pair
were
about
to
pass
an
intermediate
turning
on
the
right
,
a
constable
flew
across
it
on
a
parallel
course
,
and
they
altered
theirs
with
one
accord
.
Pocket
panted
after
the
constable
,
and
his
father
thundered
after
Pocket
,
into
a
narrow
street
debouching
upon
a
fenced
strip
of
greenery
,
not
too
dense
to
hide
broad
pavement
and
low
parapet
on
its
further
side
,
with
a
strip
of
brown
river
beyond
that
,
and
a
skyline
of
warehouses
on
the
Surrey
shore
.
The
narrow
garden
had
not
been
opened
for
the
day
.
There
was
a
gate
opposite
the
end
of
the
road
,
another
gate
leading
out
on
the
Embankment
opposite
that
.
Between
the
two
gates
a
grimy
statue
rose
upon
a
granite
pedestal
,
a
meditative
figure
clad
to
the
heels
in
some
nondescript
garment
,
and
gazing
across
the
river
as
he
sat
with
a
number
of
discarded
volumes
under
his
chair
.
It
was
a
peculiarly
lifelike
monument
,
which
Pocket
would
have
been
just
the
boy
to
appreciate
at
any
other
time
;
even
now
it
struck
him
for
an
instant
,
before
his
attention
was
attracted
to
the
group
of
commonplace
living
people
on
the
Embankment
beyond
the
narrow
garden
.
