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Fletcher, J. S. (Joseph Smith), 1863-1935

"Scarhaven Keep"

"It's blood-curdling?"
"Hare, with a stoat's teeth in its neck," answered Spurge. "H'sh--I'll
call him again."
No answer came to the first nor to the second summons--after a third,
equally unproductive, Spurge looked at his companions with a scared face.
"That's a queer thing, guv'nors!" he muttered. "Can't believe as how our
Jim 'ud ever desert a post. He promised me faithfully as how he'd stick
here like grim death until I came back. I hope he ain't had a fit, nor
aught o' that sort--he ain't a strong chap at the best o' times, and--"
"You'd better take a careful look round, Spurge," said Vickers.
"Here--shall I come with you?"
But Spurge waved a hand to them to stay where they were. He himself crept
along the back of the hedge until he came to a point opposite the nearest
angle of the tower. And suddenly he gave a great cry--human enough this
time!--and the three young men rushing forward found him standing by the
body of a roughly-clad man in whom Copplestone recognized the one-eyed
odd-job man of the "Admiral's Arms."


CHAPTER XXVIII
THE FOOTPRINTS

The man was lying face downwards in the grass and weeds which clustered
thickly at the foot of the hedgerow, and on the line of rough,
weatherbeaten neck which showed between his fur cap and his turned-up
collar there was a patch of dried blood. Very still and apparently
lifeless he looked, but Vickers suddenly bent down, laid strong hands on
him and turned him over.


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