The Shrieking Pit | Page 9

from it, sir? Thank you--to be a group of fir trees fully a hundred
yards to the right of the fairway. Well, I got a shot 160 yards up the
fairway with a low straight ball which never lifted more than a yard
from the green, but my opponent, instead of sticking to the brassy, as I
did, preferred to use his big driver, and what do you think happened to
him? The wind took his ball clean over the fir trees."
The story was interrupted by the sudden entrance from outside of a

young officer who had been taking a turn on the front. He strode
hurriedly into the lounge, with a look of excitement on his
good-humoured boyish face, and accosted the golfers, who happened to
be nearest the door.
"I say, you fellows, what do you think has happened? You remember
that chap who fainted yesterday morning? Well, he's wanted for
committing a murder!"
The piece of news created the sensation that its imparter had counted
upon. "A murder!" was echoed from different parts of the lounge in
varying degrees of horror, amazement and dread, and the majority of
the guests came eagerly crowding round to hear the details.
"Yes, a murder!" repeated the young officer, with relish. "And, what's
more, he committed it after he left here yesterday. He walked across to
some inn a few miles from here along the coast, put up there for the
night, and in the middle of the night stabbed some old chap who was
staying there."
There was a lengthy pause while the hotel guests digested this startling
information, and endeavoured to register anew their previous faint
impressions of the young man of the alcove table in the new light of his
personality as an alleged murderer. The pause was followed by an
excited hum of conversation and eager questions, the ladies all talking
at once.
"What a providential escape we have all had!" exclaimed the
clergyman's wife, her fresh comely face turning pale.
"That's just what I said myself, madam, when I heard the news," replied
the young officer.
"I presume this murderous young ruffian has been secured?" asked the
clergyman, who had turned even paler than his wife. "The police, I
hope, have him under arrest."
The young officer shook his head.

"He's shown them a clean pair of heels. He may be heading back this
way, for all I know. There will be a hue and cry over the whole of
Norfolk for him by to-night, but murderers are usually very crafty, and
difficult to catch. I bet they won't catch him before he murders
somebody else."
The men looked at one another gravely, and some of the ladies gave
vent to cries of alarm, and clung to their husband's arms. The
clergyman turned angrily on the man who had brought the news.
"What do you mean, sir, by blurting out a piece of news like this before
a number of ladies?" he said sternly. "It was imprudent and foolish in
the last degree. You have alarmed them exceedingly."
"Oh, that's all tosh!" replied the other rudely. "They were bound to hear
of it sooner or later; why, everybody on the front is talking about it. I
thought you'd be awfully bucked to hear the news, seeing that you were
sitting at the next table to him yesterday morning."
"Who gave you this information?" asked Colwyn, who had just come
down stairs wearing a motor coat and cap, and paused on his way to the
door on hearing the loud voices of the excited group round the young
officer.
"One of the fishermen on the front. The police constable at the place
where the murder was committed--a little village with some outlandish
name--came over here to report the news. This is the nearest police
station to the spot, it seems."
"But is he quite certain that the man who is supposed to have
committed the murder is the young man who fainted yesterday
morning?" asked Sir Henry Durwood, who had joined the group. "Has
he been positively identified?"
"The fisherman tells me that there's no doubt it's him--the description's
identical. He cleared out before the murder was discovered. There's a
rare hue and cry all along the coast. They are organizing search parties.
There's one going out from here this afternoon. I'm going with it."

Colwyn left the group of hotel guests, and went to the front door. Sir
Henry Durwood, after a moment's hesitation, followed him. The
detective was standing in the hotel porch, thoughtfully smoking a cigar,
and looking out over the raging sea. He nodded cordially to the
specialist.
"What do you think of this story?" asked Sir Henry.
"I was just about to walk down to the police station to make some
inquiries," responded Colwyn.