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Page 20
Every person about the place was examined and cross-examined, but no one
knew anything, and the night shut down, and left the matter in mystery.
Pietro, at length, suggested Leo, Mr. Linmere's gray-hound.
"Him no love his master," said the Italian, "but him scent keen. It will
do no hurt to try him."
Accordingly, the next morning, Pietro brought the dog up to the Park.
The animal was sullen, and would accept of attentions from no one save
Margie, to whom he seemed to take at first sight. And after she had
spoken to him kindly, and patted his head, he refused all persuasions
and commands to leave her.
Mr. Darby, the detective, whose services had been engaged in the affair,
exerted all his powers of entreaty on the dog, but the animal clung to
Margie, and would not even look in the direction of the almost frantic
detective.
"It's no use, Miss Harrison," said Darby, "the cur wont stir an inch. You
will have to come with him! Sorry to ask ye, but this thing must be seen
into."
"Very well, I will accompany you," said Margie, rising, and throwing on
a shawl, she went out with them, followed by Mrs. Weldon, Alexandrine,
and two or three other ladies.
Leo kept close to Margie, trotting along beside her, uttering every now
and then a low whine indicative of anticipation and pleasure.
Darby produced a handkerchief which had belonged to Mr. Paul Linmere,
and which he had found in his rooms, lying on his dressing-table. He
showed this to the dog; Leo snuffed at it, and gave a sharp grunt of
displeasure.
"We want you to find him, Leo, good dog," said the Italian, stroking the
silky ears of the dog; "find your master."
Leo understood, but he looked around in evident perplexity.
"Take him to the depot!" said Mr. Trevlyn, "he may find the trail there."
They went to the station; the dog sniffed hurriedly at the platform, and
in a moment more dashed off into the highway leading to Harrison Park.
"Him got him!" cried Pietro; "him find my master!"
The whole company joined in following the dog. He went straight ahead,
his nose to the ground, his fleet limbs bearing him along with a rapidity
that the anxious followers found it hard to emulate.
At a brook which crossed the road he stopped, seemed a little confused,
crossed it finally on stepping stones, paused a moment by the side of a
bare nut tree, leaped the fence, and dashed off through a grass field.
Keeping steadily on, he made for the grounds of the Park, passed the
drained pond, and the frost-ruined garden, and pausing before the
inclosure where slept the Harrison dead, he lifted his head and gave
utterance to a howl so wild, so savagely unearthly, that it chilled the
blood in the veins of those who heard. An instant he paused, and then
dashing through the hedge, was lost to view.
"He is found! My master is found!" said Pietro, solemnly, removing his
cap, and wiping a tear from his eye. For the man was attached to Mr. Paul
Linmere, in his rough way, and the tear was one of genuine sorrow.
His companions looked at each other. Alexandrine grasped the arm of
Margie, and leaned heavily upon her.
"Let us go to the house--" she faltered, "I cannot bear it."
"I will know the worst," said Margie, hoarsely, and they went on
together.
It was so singular, but no one had thought to look within the graveyard
enclosure; perhaps if they had thought of it, they judged it impossible
that a murderer should select such a locality for the commission of his
crime.
Mr. Darby opened the gate, entered the yard, and stopped. So did the
others. All saw at once that the search was ended. Across the path
leading to the graves of Mr. and Mrs. Harrison, lay Paul Linmere. He was
white and ghastly; his forehead bare, and his sightless eyes wide open,
looking up to the sun of noon-day. His right hand lay on his breast, his
left still tightly grasped the turf upon which it had fixed its hold in
the cruel death-agony. His garments were stiff with his own blood, and
the dirk knife, still buried to the hilt in his heart, told the story of
his death.
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