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Something Lands on Him
On the Road
Never had the engine run better.
The huge car raced along the road,
raising the dust in clouds, and flitting
past milestones with an easy regular
ity almost monotonous.
"Ah," gasped the driver, as the car
battled with the wind which swept
the high ground, whence for miles
Bround the surrounding country could
be seen, "this is the place for view—
eh, my boy Have you ever come
iicross such a landscape aa that be
Almost lost in the roaring of the
pi-ind came his friend's hoarse grum-
"Never! I've already had a good
seal more than I can swallow."
The Dingbat Family
Polly and Her Pals
THE KING OF DIAMONDS!
Continued From Yesterday
A terrific rattat sounded on the out
A direct summons to the Infernal re
gions could not have startled both
men more thoroughly. Grenier, with
the protecting makeup on forehead and
cheeks, only show#d his terror in his
glistening eyes and palsied frame.
Mason, whom nothing could daunt,
was, nevertheless, spellbound with
What intruder was this who knocked
so imperatively? They were a mile and
a half from the nearest habitation,
four miles from a village. What fear
ful chance had brought to their door
one who thus boldly demanded ad
mission? Had their scheme miscarried
at this vital moment? Had Anson sus
pected something and arranged that
he should be followed by rescuers—
The sheer agony of fear restored
Grenier's wits. He was not Grenier
now, but Philip Anson, a very shaky
and unnerved Philip Anson, it was
true, but sufficiently lifelike to choke
off doubting Inquiries.
He clutched Mason's arm and point
ed a quivering finger toward Philip.
"Out with him! This instant! The
tide is high!''
"But bis face! If he is found"—
Mason reached for the life preserver
with horrible purpose.
"No, no." No more noise. Quick,
man. You must go to the door. Only
summon me if necessary. Oh, quick!"
He rushed to another door and
opened it. There was a balcony be
yond. It overhung the very Up of
the rock. Far beneath the deep blue
sea shone, and naught else.
Mason caught up Anson's limp form
and ran with him to the balcony.
With a mighty swing he threw him
outward, clear of the cliffs edge. For
a few tremulous seconds they lis
tened. They thought they heard a
splash; then Mason turned coolly to
"Is there any blood on my coat?"
"I can see none. Now, the door.
With quaking heart he listened to
Mason's heavy tread along the pas
sage and across the kitchen. He
clinched the back of a chair In the
THE SAN FRANCISCO cAU, AND POST, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 11, 1913
effort to calm himself by forcible
means. Then he heard the unbolting
of the door and the telegraph mes
senger's prompt announcement:
"Philip Anson, Esquire."
Mason came to him carrying the
Orenier subsided into the chair he
held. This time he was prostrated.
He could scarcely open the flimsy en
"Abingdon counsels caution. Say
ther«- Im (tome mistake. Maefc love.
That was all. But it was a good
deal. Grenier looked with lack-luster
eyes. He was almost fainting.
"Send him away," he murmured.
"There is nothing to be done. In the
Mason saw that his ally was nearly
exhausted by the reaction. He grinned
"Of all the chicken hearted—"
But he went and dismissed the boy.
Grenier threw himself at full length
on a sofa.
• What's up now?" demanded Mason,
finding him prone.
"Watt—Just a little while—until my
heart stops galloping. That counfound
ed knock! It jarred my spine."
"Take some more brandy."
"How can I? It is impossible. I
haven't got an ox head like you."
Mason placed the lamp on a center
table. It's rays fell on Philip's hat.
Something in its appearance caught
the man's eye. He picked up the hat
and examined it critically.
"Do you know," he said after a si
lence broken only by Grenier's deep
breathing, "I fancy I didn't kill him,
after all." ,
"Not—kill him? Why—he was dead
—in that chair —for an hour."
"Perhaps. I hit hard enough, but
this hat must have taken some of it.
When you were busy I thought his
chest heaved slightly. And Jußt now
when I carried him outside he seemed
"It may be. I struck very hard."
Grenier sat up.
"Even if you are right." be mut
tered, "it does- not matter. He fell 300
feet. The fall alone would kill him.
And, If he is drowned, and the body
is picked up it* Is better so. Don't
you see! Even if he were recognized
he would be drowned, not —not
Well, his death would be due to nat
He would rot bring himself to say
"murder red—an ugly word.
"If you were not such a milksop
there would be no fear of his being
But Grenier laughed a hollow and
unconvincing laugh; nevertheless, it
was a sign of recovery.
"What nonsense we are talking. A
naked man, floating, dead, In the
North sea. Who Is he? Not Philip
Anson, surely! Philip Anson is gayly
gadding about England on his private
affairs. Where is Green? Hunter, go
and tell Green to bring my traps here
Instantly. I wish him to return to
town on urgent errand."
There was a glint of admiration in
Mason's eyes. Here was one with An
son's face, wearing Anson's clothes,
and addressing him in Anson's voice!
"That's better," he chuckled. "By
G —d, you're clever when your head is
"Now be off for Green. You know
what to say."
"You will be a one. .Will you be
The sneer was the last stimulant
"If you were called on to stand in
Philip Anson's boots during the next
week or 10 days, my good friend,"
he quietly retorted, "you would be
afraid «0 times in every hour. Your
job has nearly ended; mine has barely
commenced. Now leave me."
Nevertheless, he quitted that cham
ber of death carrying with him all
that he needed, and hurrying over the
task while he could yet hear the dog
cart rattling down the hill.
He commenced with an Inventory
of Philip's pockets.
His eyes sparkled at the sight of
a well filled pocketbook. with £100
in notes stuffed therein; cards, a small
collection of letters and other odds
and end*. Among Philip's books, was
Evelyn's hurried note of that morn
ing, and on it a penciled memoran
"Sbarpe left for Devonshire yester
day. Lady M. wrote from Yorkshire."
"That was a great stroke," thought
Grenier with a smile—when he smiled
he least resembled Philip. "Being a
man of affairs, Anson promptly went
to the Mo Hands' solicitors. I was
sure of it. I wonder how Jlmmle ar
ranged matters with Sharps. I will
know tomorrow at York."
A checkbook in another pocket
added to his Joy.
"The last rock out of my path," he
cried, aloud. "That saves two days.
The bait took. By Jove! I'm in luck's
There was no need to write to
Philip's bank for a fresh book, whicn
was his first daring expedient.
He seated himself at a table and
wrote Philip's signature several times
to test his hand. At last it was
steady. Then he put a match to a
Are all ready for lighting, and burneu
Philip's hat, collar, shirt and under
clothing; also the blood stained towel.
When the mass of clothing was
smouldering black and red he threw a
fresh supply of coal on top of it.
The loss of the hat did not trouble
him; he possessed one of the same
shape and color.
He was quietly smoking a cigar
and practicing Philip's voice between
puffs when Mason returned with the
The scene, carefully rehearsed by
Grenier in all its details, passed off
with gratifying success. Purring
with satisfaction, the chief scoundrel
of the pair left in the Grange house
by the astonished servant, began to
overhaul the contents of Philip's bag.
It held the ordinary outfit of a gen
tleman who does not expect to pay a
protracted visit—an evening dress
suit, a light overcoat, a tweed suit ana
a small supply of boots and linen. A
tiny dressing case fitted Into a special
receptacle, and on top of this reposed
a folded document.
Genier opened it. Mason looked
over his shoulder. It was headed:
"Annual Report of the Mary Anson
Bsme for Destitute Boys."
Mason coarsely cursed both the
home and Its patron. But Grenier
"the very thing," he cried. "Look
And he pointed to an indorsement
by the secretary.
"Tor signature if approved of."
"I will sign and return lt, with a
nice typewritten, letter tomorrow,
from New York. Abingdon is one of
the governors. Oh, I shall bamboo
zle them rarely."
"This blooming charity will help
you a bit, then?"
"Nothing better. Let us go out for
a little stroll. Now, don't forget.
Address me as 'Mr. Anson.' Get used
to it, even if we are alone. And lt
will be no harm should we happen to |
Well, It's All Off, Mrs. D. Is Meek Again
(Copyright. 1013. International News Service) A,
If He Had Been Anything But a Kiltie,
(Copyright. 1813. International Neva Service)
Even in His Art Career, Skinny Has Tough Luck
(Rejlatered United States Patent Offlce)
They went down the hill and en
tered the rough county road that
wound up from Scarsdale to the cliff.
Through the faint light of a summer's
night they say a man approaching.
It was a policeman.
"Absrit omen." said Grenier, softly.
"Latin for a cop. You complained
of my want of nerve. Watch me now."
He halted tbe policeman and ques
tioned him about the locality, the di
rection of the roads, the village on
the coast. He explained pleasantly
that he was a Londoner and an utter
stranger in these parts.
"You are staying at the Grange
house, sir?" said the man, in his turn.
"Yes. Come here today, in fact."
"I saw you. sir. Is the gentleman
who drove you from Scarsdale stay
ing there, too? I met you on the
road, and he seemed to know me."
Grenier silently anathematized his
carelessness. Policemen in rural
Yorkshire were not as common as po
licemen in Oxford street. It was the
[There's expectancy and good cheer I
in every cup of I
same man whom he had encountered
"Oh, he is a doctor. Yes, he resides
in the Grange house."
"You won't find much room for a
party there, sir," persisted the con
stable. "I don't remember the gen
tleman at all. What is his name?"
"Doctor Williams. He is a genial
sort of fellow—nods to anybody. Take
a cigar. Sorry I can't ask you to go
up and have a drink, but there is ill
ness in the place."
The policeman passed on.
"Illness!" he said, glancing at the
gloomy outlines of the farm. "How
many of 'em are In t' place? And
who's yon dark lookin' chap, I won
der? My, but his face would stop a
PHILIP AX SOX REDIVIVVS
Next morning Mason trudged off to
Scarsdale at an early hour. He as
certained that Green had quitted the
Fox and Hounds inn in time to catch
the first train.
He returned to Grange house with
the dogcart and drove Grenier to
Scarsdale with his luggage, consist
ing of Philips portmanteau and his
own, together with a hatbox.
He touched his cap to Grenier when
the latter smiled affably on him from
the luxury of a first class carriage,
and he pocketed a tip with a grin.
A porter was also feed lavishly, and
the station master was urbanity itself
as he explained the Junctions and th*
time London would be reached.
A Massachusetts minister was mak
ing his flrst visit to Kentucky several
years ago. He had to spend the night
tn a small mountain town, where
feuds and moonshine stills abounded.
Engaging in conversation with one of
the natives, he said:
•'My friend, this is a very bibulous
»tate. I hear."
"Lor," replied the man, "there
hain't 25 bibles in all Kentucky."