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Show , ,J,J I The Mystery of Hartley Mousse I! 1 By CLIFFORD S. RAYMOND 'P, Illustrated by IRWIN MYERS 'TJV Copyright by George H. Doran Cfc jjjj Q Q THE HAUNTED POOL. Syosis. Dr. Jolin Mlchelson, Just beginning his career, becomes resident physician and companion nf Homer Sidney at Hartley houne. Mr. Sidney la an American, a seml-Invalid, seml-Invalid, old and rich and very desirous de-sirous to live. Mrs. Sidney Is a Spanish woman, dignllied and reticent. reti-cent. Jed, the butler, acts like a privileged member of the family. Hartley house is a fine old Isolated country place, with a murder story, a "haunted pool," and many watchdogs, watch-dogs, and an atmosphere of mystery. mys-tery. The "haunted pool" is where Itlchard Dobson, son of a former owner of Hartley house, had killed his brother, Arthur Dobson. Jed befilns operations by locking the doctor in his room the very first nlRht. Doctor John fixes his door so he can't be locked in. He meets Isobel, daughter of the house, and falls in lova at first sight. In the night lie tinds the butler drunk and holding Mrs. Sidney by the wrist. He interferes. Mrs. Sidney makes light of it. John buys a revolver. John overhears Jed telling Mrs. Sidney he will have Ills way. In reply she says she will not hesitate to kill him. Mrs. Sidney asks John to consent to the announcement of his engagement to Isobel. The young people consent to the mako-betieve mako-betieve engagement. Iater they find It is to head off Jed. who would marry Isobel. Jed tries to kill John, but (he matter is smoothed over. John, though "engaged' "en-gaged' to Isobel, conceals his love. Mr. Sidney visits a nearby prison and liar. Dobson, the murderer, pointed out. Queer stories of the "haunted pool" are told. v u CHAPTER V Continued. 6 "And tell sad stories of (lie deaths of kings," said .Ted, drawing his chair nearer to the fire and spreading out his hands before it. He was drinking more rationally now, sipping lii-s wine instead of gulping it. lie had arrived at liis desired state and wished to niniiil r.in it. Mr. Sidney seemed to feel a comfortable com-fortable glow as Jed drank. There was no doubt that by suggestion he obtained physical sensations of stimulation stimu-lation and joviality. "If we had a ghost." said Mr. Sidney, Sid-ney, "it would walk on such a night.'- The wind made an extraordinary attack at-tack upon (he windows as he spoke and sucked a soughing sound from the chimney. "Tell the doctor the story of the pool," Mr. Sidney said to Jed. "We are in the comfortable werewolf state. Let's have our legend. Do you want 10 add a shiver to your contentment, doctor?" he asked. "I want to hear the story," I said. "So do I, once again," said Mr. Sidney, Sid-ney, " on such a night." "This place once belonged to a family fam-ily named Dobson," said Jed. "It was a very old family for American families." said Mr. Sidney. "Came over in 1G10," said Jed. "English Puritans from Holland," said Mr. Sidney. "Go ahead, Jed. I sha'n't interrupt." "After the capture of New Amsterdam Amster-dam from the Dttch by the English, the Dobsons came down from the north and bought this manor-house from the Dutch family that had It. Then the Dobsons lived here in a simple sim-ple fashion. "They renamed it Hartley house for their father, who was Hartley Dobson. That's its name uow." "I don't want to break In unnecessarily unneces-sarily I said, "but where do you get your information, Jed?" "It's all in records in the library," he answered, "and if I am going to tell the story I want a fair chance. . . . A lot of generations of Dobsons lived here. There was always a Dobson family fam-ily in the house, and the property came down to the generation that made this story. There were two boys Id that family a half century ago the sons of James and Henrietta Dobson. Dob-son. "Henrietta Dobson died when her son Itlchard was nine years old and ber other son Henry was seven years old. James Dobson died two years later, la-ter, and the boys were parentlcss. This family was an argument against families." "That's one of the heterodox notions I have Instilled' in an innocent mind," said Mr. Sidney. "Jed, you must not repeat phrases in your narratives. You parrot things and try to pass them as observations." "You'll have him surly in a moment," I suggested, "and then where is the story?'' "I never knew him surly," said Mr. Sidney, "and lie could not be in his genial wine." Jed showed tr flicker of a malignant malig-nant glance in vc.i direction and went on wilh his story evenly and good-naturedly. "I don't pretend to have all the details de-tails or to understand it," he said ; "but from what I learn. Richard Dobson, Dob-son, the elder brother, was strong and brutal. Henry Dobson, the younger brother, was frull and sensitive. I guess they luited each other from the cradle. "Dick, when he was four and Henry was two, found ways of tormcniing his younger brother. The best thing Henry Hen-ry ever had from Hicliard wu contempt." con-tempt." i.uvo tticvn lamilios of that 114-'' ture," said Mr. Sidney. "Our conveniens conven-iens teach us to regard a family tie as a sacrament. In many cases It Is only an odious obligation leading to tragedy." "Dick knew all of Henry's weaknesses," weakness-es," Jed continued. "Sometimes he would torture him physically, by twisting twist-ing his wrist or rolling him over on the ground when young girls were around. Sometimes he would torture him without laying hands on him. "Dick was a thick-headed brute, but he had a genius for cruelty. When their parents died and the boys approached ap-proached their majority, Henry was almost al-most an imbecile for fear of Dick. "Dick wanted then to get his inheritance inheri-tance and go out into the world, but the estate was left in trust until both boys were of age. Dick came of age and was obliged to wait two years for Henry." 1 was astonished by the succinct and philosophical brevity of this ignorant man's narrative. Mr. Sidney was at ease In his chair with his eyes closed and a placid expression of pleasure on his face. Jed was active in gesticulation gesticula-tion as he talked. That was the effect ef-fect of the wins. The wind continued to pull at the chimney and scold in the corners. "Jed has read a great deal to me," said Mr. Sidney without opening his eyes. "I think he has become theatric." "Well," said Jed, "to shorten a story, when Dick, being twenty-one, found that he had to wait two more years for Henry, he became more brutal than ever. In some way or other, the night of the murder the two brothers happened hap-pened to meet in a tavern in a village not far from Hartley house. Henry did not want to go home with his brother, but they both got drunk and they started to walk home together. "No one has been able to do much more than guess at what took place, but it was known that Richard was a brute and that Henry was scared of him but was not a coward. They must have had a violent quarrel. "There was a cottage near the pool. The only person in it at the time was a little girl, whose parents were not at home. She was awakened by cries and swearing. She said that she heard one man say : 'They'll find you dead in tiie morning.' Then she heard sounds of a struggle and was scared and hid her head under the bedclothes. "When her parents came home she told them what she had heard, and they went out with a lantern to the place from which the noise came. They found parts of Henry's clothing. The next day Richard was found, ten miles away, still drunk. He confessed that he had killed his brother in a drunken rage. "Afterward he said that he hadn't, but he admitted that there had been a quarrel. It was a most celebrated pH jWSVSeTOWcar WWII". K!ul-'gSS!? At the Edge of the Pool a Mar Was Revealed in the Moonligh', trial. Richard was convicted, though the state could not produce any indubitable in-dubitable physical evidence of Henry's death. The contention over this evidence evi-dence made the case noted. "Richard Dobson is in the penitentiary peniten-tiary at Alwick now. Henry's ghost is what Is supposed to come back to the pool." The wind howled outside, and the fire burned cheerfully. As a romanticist romanti-cist I felt rebellious. The ghost story lacked antiquity. A good ghost story would not have any human element In it a prisoner in a nearby penitentiary. It was too common a savor of the present. pres-ent. "But Stevenson would have liked the story," said Mr. Sidney. "It has so much hate In It. I'robably it is he-cause he-cause I live here where this tale of hate lias its scene that I enjoy 'The Master of I'.allantrae' so much." CHAPTER VI. When I said good-night to Mr. Sidney Sid-ney and Jed I did not go to my room. A Utile alcoholic stimulant to one unaccustomed un-accustomed '0 i! will break down routine. rou-tine. 1 went to the library 10 select a houU and take It to my room. The fire In the library was burning cheerfully. The wind had a clear sweep at the windows. To a slightly exhilarated perception the circumstances were alluringly al-luringly comfortable. I found a good book, but lost the inclination in-clination to go to my room. I sat down in a comfortable chair, having turned off all the lights except that of the reading lamp. The library was large, and when the reading lamp alone was lighted there were deep shadows and the room was largely in darkness. I read for a while and then fell asleep. I had no intention of doing that, but drowsiness came Irresistibly and I was gone before I could force myself to go to bed. It was two o'clock when I awoke. The wind had died down. I felt restless rest-less and uneasy, not being accustomed to falling asleep In this fashion. The sensation of waking up and having perceptions struggle to establish not ouly location but identity was unpleasant'. unpleas-ant'. I started then for bed but stopped at the main door of the house on my way. I went to look to the fastenings fas-tenings and found that Jed, whose duty it was to close the house, had forgotten for-gotten to lock and bar the door. It was this incident of seeing the chain hanging down and of going to the door that suggested a cure for my unpleasant restlessness after the nap in the library. I opened the door and went outside for a walk. The moon In its last quarter was rising in a cloud-filled sky. There was light one instant and then dark. I expected ex-pected the dogs to join me, but none came. A challenge arose within me to go down by the way toward the haunted pool. It was the moral taunt of a sug-. gested cowardice. I thought of the place and of all 1 had been told of it; and the instinctive apprehension, perceptible per-ceptible as I stood on the steps to the entrance, provoked the challenge. It seemed imperative. It would have been a moral retreat to go back into the house, as would have been sensible, lock the door and go to bed. That seemed like backing down in the face of an inviting danger. These challenges chal-lenges are inconsequential, but they seem important to character. I did not have the real moral courage, cour-age, which was to turn my back on the invitation and go indoors. I went down the steps to prove to myself my confidence confi-dence in myself thereby disproving it. As I neared tno pool, the moon went behind a cloud. I came to a clump of bushes. The moon came from behind its cover. There was a gentle flood of returning light. I was in, or rather behind, a screen of trees and brush. The pool was fifty feet away. At the edge of the pool a man was rA,-nU,l li fli ..i.wmll-rlil TTq 1 nn o f 1 on a stick. The moon went behind another cloud, and the figure on the bank became be-came indistinct. It almost disappeared. I stood still, with apprehensive shudders shud-ders working up and down my spine. The phenomenon was outrageous and unbelievable. The moonlight flashed out again for an instant. I saw the figure again but persuaded or tried to persuade myself that I did not see it, to say to myself that it was a bush twisted into extravagant shape by my Imagination. The moon went under a great dark cloud. I made a moral and physical retreat. I did not run. That would have been an honest confession and expression of desire. I was hypocritical hypocriti-cal and walked, but my moral defeat was complete. There was a man at the haunted pool. I had seem him and something had deterred me from speaking to him, finding out who he was or why he was there. A really violent change came into IN-oc. A cnorrfittUnn (lint- T. ney go to the South for the winter was acted upon, ana within a month I was separated from the place and people so important in my affections. Doctor Doc-tor Brownell had been called to Hartley Hart-ley house by Mr. Sidney's discouraging discourag-ing condition. Our invalid had overtaxed over-taxed himself the evening he displayed such activity in his room, such unusual un-usual strength and agility. The following fol-lowing morning he was almost in collapse. col-lapse. 1 was alarmed and telephoned Doctor Brownell, who came out at once. "You will see his will pull him through," he said. "If It were not for that, I should be alarmed. lie .s very low." "1 blame myself for permitting the unusual exertion," I suid. "My judgment judg-ment was deluded, I think, by my happiness hap-piness at seeing him so strong. He really seemed strong. It did not seem fictitious or unnatural." Doctor r.rownell raid that the phenomenon phe-nomenon was not new in his experience experi-ence with Mr. Sidney's case. "I have bad it six years," lie said, "and this Is the sixtli time lie lias gone from unexplained anil unnatural strength to extreme and dangerous wcakiies. And always in the fall somewlie: e aboul Ibis time. I-'neli time I have sei'ii bis will assert ilself and si r"i::i i i In ui in his exhaustion." The day I called Doctor Brownell I had been too concerned and alarmed to pay much attention to anyone but Mr. Sidney and did not observe until toward evening that Jed was malignantly malig-nantly unfriendly again in his attitude toward me. Finally he made ft appar-ent appar-ent by a bit of vicious insolence. I had determined never again to take hold of that nettle gingerly but to clutch it. "What do you mean by that?" I asked. "There Is a plague of ofllciousness about here, or has been since you came," he said. "You locked the front door last night some time, didn't you?" "I found it open this morning, and after I had walked about the grounds Ptli f "Do You Have to Be Judge of My Habits?" for a while I came in and threw the bolt," I told him. He seemed unpleasantly astonished jolted and disturbed. "You were abroad last night !" he exclaimed. "You had locked me in, I know," I said, " or thought you bad. I found my door bolted when I went back to my room. I wasn't in it when you bolted it," I added. "I was asleep in the library. When I awakened I went outside for a moment. The door was unfastened. I bolted it when I came in." Jed was more, disturbed, and he showed it. "Where did you go?" he asked. "I walked around," I said, "down by the river." His discomposure became acute. He "Where were the dogs?" 1 asked. "I didn't see any." He tried to smile. "They were with me," he said. "I was out, and you locked me out. That's why I have been so indignant. I came back and found I had to break into the house. I was in a hurry. You wouldn't have liked it yourself." "I don't like it myself. T don't like being locked in my room. I'll not have it. I thought I had given you to un: dersland that it would not be tolerated. toler-ated. I do not want to annoy the family fam-ily by complaints, but I will not ea-dure ea-dure that." "Well, you can see the occasion for it. You were loose last night, and your conscientious ofliciousness made trouble. I knew your type, the moment I set eyes on you. I said here's a trouble-making person with a duty. You show it. Of course, you had to bolt that door. You could not assuirle that it was open for a purpose. No thought of anybody that might be outside out-side 1 I knew you. That's why we're safe only when you are locked in your room." "Well, I'll not have it," I insisted, "and you can understand that. It is fiat. Why do you have to run around the grounds at night?" "Do ou have to be judge of my habits? If you do, it may satisfy you to kno'.V that I frequently have many duties to perform for Mr. Sidney In the night. I frequently drink too much wiue. I frequently walk aroniid the grounds to clear my head and be able to do what is needed by Mr. Sidney." My miud had jumped to a conclusion. conclu-sion. "Were you at the pool last night?" I asked. "Yes," he said. He was very ugly. "Y'ou seem to be a Paul Pry," be said. "You ought to be mannered." 1 was' not interested in Jed. I was thinking of my figure at Hie pool. As embodied in Jed it did not fusvlnate me. "It might have been in Montevideo." (TO 13 K CU.VriNUKD.) j |