This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1910 Excerpt: ...to pass the time and he had been a little haunted, too, with the thought of the boy who was found dead in a lonely valley. When he began with " For instance," he had not dreamed that he would find anything. He was not looking for anything. The shock of the discovery held him dumb. He did not even glance at Locke. ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1910 Excerpt: ...to pass the time and he had been a little haunted, too, with the thought of the boy who was found dead in a lonely valley. When he began with " For instance," he had not dreamed that he would find anything. He was not looking for anything. The shock of the discovery held him dumb. He did not even glance at Locke. Instead, he stared thoughtfully and for a long time at what he held in his hands. Gradually, his already stern mouth hardened yet more. His lips drew together in a thin line. Slowly, he drew the handkerchief once more from the young man's pocket. Special Inspector Warlick was like a hawk hovering greedily by, ready to swoop down upon his victim when the time should be ripe. Locke gripped the back of his chair hard--gripped it until the pressure brought out bloodless streaks on his hands. Had he blundered after all? Slowly, the Marshal's eyes turned to the name in the corner. His face was a study. Warlick could contain himself no longer. He leaned over softly. His eyes were agleam with fiendish curiosity. Suddenly, the Marshal crumpled the square of linen in his hand and slipped it into an inner pocket of his own with every appearance of absent-mindedness. When he looked at it before and replaced it indifferently where he had found it, he thought that the Indian country was full of men who did not answer to the names written for them on time-yellowed pages of family Bibles in the old-fashioned chirography of an earlier generation. He had been thoroughly imbued also with the notion that the murder was an Indian one, even though the short brown hair of the scalp-lock had not been touched by profane and blood-crazed hands. Many things might have happened to prevent the redskin from carrying off his trophy. This time, as he absent-mindedly swe...
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