Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 7, 1922 — page 135: what you’re looking at

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

THE SIGN OF THE SERPENT. and stooped quickly over the prostrate form of Piers Marney. “Go up to that room, Ferne—see who’s there. Touch nothing till I come up,” said the sergeant briefly. ‘ Anybody here see the thing happen?”’ “I was cuttin’ the yew hedge,” said an agitated gardener, ‘“‘ when I see this big chap here come runnin’ up the drive like a lunatic an’ go right into the house. There was a young feller came runnin’ after him. I was wholly stemmed, I was, fared like I could only stand starin’, Then I drops me shears an’ goes over to the house—’fore I got there something went smash at that window, up there, an’ the big chap an’ Sir Piers comes a-hurtlin’ out of it together, an’ fell down on the stones here right ag’in’ me.” The gardener gulped and shivered. “An awful sight it was. The big un did it. Got his arms right around the governor he had—an’ fair chucked himself out, an’ Sir Piers with him.” He passed his forearm across his eyes shakily. “TI know that man,” he added; ‘“‘ he’s the chap they call Mad Matt, as lived in a hut down by the creeks. He’s one o’ them mushmen Sir Piers was turnin’ off their holdin’s.” The sergeant, busy with his task, nodded briefly. He had some acquaintance with Matthew. Horrified though they were, there seemed little pity among the men for Piers. A two-seater car came whirring up the drive and stopped; an amazed doctor sprang out. The sergeant told him in a few words what had happened, and he stooped beside the bodies. His examination of Matt was very brief. Over the other he took more time. By the doctor’s orders a shutter was taken off its hinges and brought forward quickly. Piers Marney was lifted onto it. “ He’s livin’ yet!” exclaimed the gardener under his breath. “Carry him in gently; lay the shutter on a bed, and don’t move him,” said the doctor. He turned to the sergeant. “ Sir Piers Marney is living, but he is beyond my aid. He may possibly recover conscious- ness, but he cannot live twenty-four hours. The other is dead.” 281 “I’ve always said that crazy fellow oughtn’t to be allowed loose,” said the ser- geant gloomily, ‘“‘ though he never did any harm to any one till now—seemed quiet enough. Case is quite clear, sir—”’ “Is that doctor never coming!”’ cried Stephen, emerging suddenly from the door- way, and taking no notice whatever of the group of men lifting the shutter. ‘ Are you he, sir? I want you upstairs quick—man dangerously wounded.” “Wounded?” exclaimed the ‘Lead the way. Where is he? nothing for these others.” ‘“‘What’s this?” said the sergeant. “'Who’s wounded? Here—” Stephen turned to him. “This is a matter of life and death,” he said. ‘I’m at your service as soon as the doctor’s seen him.” The sergeant followed Stephen and the doctor hastily up the stairs, meeting the constable coming down. ‘“‘ Bloodstain on the floor in that front room—revolver on floor, one barrel dis- charged,” he said quickly to the sergeant, “nobody there. What—”’ The sergeant stopped him, sent him downstairs with some brief instructions, and hurried after Stephen, who opened the door of a bedroom on the landing. On the bed lay Richard, white and unconscious. “Who shot him?” said the sergeant. “Were you here when this happened?” Stephen shook his head. The doctor was already examining Richard. His verdict was soon given. “ He will recover,” said the doctor. ‘“ He has missed death by a couple of inches, no more.” He opened the bag he had brought up with him, and poured water into the basin. ‘‘ Who brought him in here?” “TI carried him in.” The sergeant laid a hand on Stephen’s shoulder. “Tl trouble you to come out with me. The doctor’s got his job.” But Stephen turned back. ‘“‘ Doctor,” he said, “ when you’ve done what you can for him, will you go as quick as you're able an’ look after my sister. She’s in the bedroom opposite, across the landing. She’ll need you, too.” doctor. I can do comiclbooolx C©