Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 12, 1927 — page 97: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE MARK OF Believing as she did that she “nay for it!” he was a ruthless man, a murderer, was more terrified than ever. The deputy left her in her room, and came out to us, giving no indication what- soever of what had passed within that room. Later on in the day, when she was assured that he had left the house, the girl herself, as you will remember, came out. But she had been too dazed even to re- arrange her hair, or her torn shirtwaist. You remember that she would not divulge what had happened. I remember how Maizie had smiled at this whole proceeding. I can never for- get that smile. Maizie knew. She had no doubt about what had taken place. The affair actually amused her! The doctor related this whole report to Cronk and me in private. It was the mo- tive for what had happened that night. The judge, in whatever bedeviled state his spirit was in, had returned to earth to wreak justice and vengeance. While we were conferring, Maizie was fixing up the hall, as was her early morning custom. The mozo was outside tending the old horse. Both the domestics were now free. There was no longer any con- ceivable reason why we should guard them as prisoners, now that we had discovered who it was that should have been arrested. The result of our conference was some- what in doubt. Cronk was for reporting the whole matter now to the police. But the doctor, again considering Shirley’s aversion to a public scandal above all else, was for waiting until we found some evidence of what had happened the preced- ing night. We must find the old Negro, Pythagoras Awls, and we must also find the body of Judge Scudder. “ That will be in its grave in the morn- ing,” Cronk said. To tell you the truth, neither the doc- tor nor I really questioned for a single mo- ment but that the body would have re- turned, as the night fled, to its proper rest- ing place. But we two doubting Thomases —the doctor and myself—wanted to see. I myself went to the St. Roe heb the Scudder ithout any sw THE MOCCASIN. 91 prise on my part at the discovery, or sur- prise on the part of the two to whom I later told the news, I made my announce- ment: ‘“ The judge is in his grave.” This news seemed absolutely trivial to us. No one offered a word of comment. For one reason it was, as I say, just what we had expected. For a second reason, there was another bit of news of consider- ably more importance: ‘The mozo in letting the old horse out into a field beyond the corral, which sloped down to the nearest bayou, had made a dis- covery. He had found a sombrero in the broom rape near the bayou. He recognized it to be the sombrero of Deputy Marteau. He observed that there was a small amount of blood inside the crown which, however, had not soaked through the felt. He searched in the broom rape, and tules, and along the bayou shore, and there came upon the body of Deputy Marteau almost completely hidden in the purple hya- cinths of the water. Probably at an earlier time during the night the hyacinths had effectually covered him, but the body had subsequently floated upward; and was therefore discovered. There were two black dots on the neck at the base of the skull. -——_— CHAPTER COTTON MOUTHS. ‘ XI. HE mozo’s discovery threw only the faintest light upon the mystery. It left many questions unanswered: Where was the deputy killed? How was he killed? If he had been thrown over that banister, just how was it done? And who did it? Furthermore, just who had the deputy gone upstairs to see? The an- swer to this last question was the most im- portant of all. In fact, we considered that if we could have found that answer the whole mystery would be solved. But we were mistaken. Shirley Scudder found the answer, and it only served to Sr omicbeoke com