The Argosy — page 268: what you’re looking at

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

The Mystery of Allan Grale. 249 grass at their feet. It was a terrible something in the guise of a man. When they saw Dr. Palmer coming they stood a little apart, but nobody uttered a word until he spoke. “Thank heaven that we got Mr. Grale away !” ‘Mr. Grale, though he is his father, couldn’t have known him—or anybody else, either,” spoke the lock-keeper, hoarsely. “But 1 expect there’ll be marks, or linen, or something for identification.” “Ah, there can be little doubt,” sighed Dr. Palmer. ‘‘ Why, there’s the light over-coat which he had with him: we all knew that coat well. It’s strange ; it’s very strange.” Dr. Palmer was thinking of his own story about the man on the Carstow Road; the one he had seen that night from his patient’s window, and whom he had certainly taken for Allan Grale. He must have been mistaken, after all. ‘‘ This is the way that ghost tales grow,” he thought, with the half-conscious habit of a mind trained to trace cause into effect. “Can you tell me, sir, what we are to do with it?” asked the lock-keeper. ‘‘ We have our litter for the removal; but where is it to be taken to ?” At first Dr. Palmer could not answer the question. It would never do to take it to Moorland House. “The smith has a lock-fast out-building behind his smithy,” he said after reflection. ‘‘I am sure he will not refuse it tous. His place is quite near. I will go on and speak to him; and afterwards do my best in breaking the news to Mr. Grale.” The little procession was soon formed. ‘The watermen had their hand-litter and their tarpaulins, and carried the poor human salvage with a homely reverence. The smith and his wife were instantly at Dr. Palmer’s service. The good woman hurried into the outhouse with her sheets and pillows, thinking to make decent preparation for the dead. But the Doctor sent her away ; the sight was too dreadful for any unnecessary eyes. He and its bearers disposed it as credit- ably as possible—even thankful that the light was waning dim! “Pid he drown hisself, I wonder,” said the smith in an awe-struck whisper. “‘T think the skull is stove in,” observed the lock-keeper. ‘‘ But that might have happened after death, you know.” “These will be questions for the post-mortem,” interposed Dr. Palmer. ‘“‘ Begging your pardon, sir,” said the experienced lock-keeper, “‘ but before you go to Mr. Grale, had you not better look at the linen marks, and into the pockets? Relations are often suspicious, and there’s many a dead man who has shaken a living man’s character.” Dr. Palmer took the hint, but his inquisition was brief and rapid. There were two or three shillings and some copper money in one of the pockets, a lead pencil, a sheet of a sporting newspaper, and a handkerchief marked in ink “ A, G.” Conniclooolkks (CO)