The Omaha Bimday Bee
AMUSEMENTS'
OL. L NO. 52.
OMAHA, SUNDAY MORNING, JUNE 12, 1921.
1 D
TEN CENTS
The THREE
MEN By EDEN PHILPOTTS
EDITORIAL
DEAD
Wherein Michael Duveen, Inquiry
Agent, Confronts a Sinister
Mystery of the West Indian
Cane Fields.
VTTTHKN my chief, Michael Duveen, the in
m yy uulry agent, invited me to go to the
West Indies on a special mission, I re
joiced exceedingly, for the time was late Janu
ary, London suffered from abominable weath
er, and the prospect of even a few weeks in the
tropics presented very real charm.
"They offered me 10,000 pounds to go," ex
plained Duveen, . "and if i meant anything
less than 10 days at sea, I should be pleased to
do so.
., "I have told them, however, that I shall
send one in whom I place absolute confidence;
that I ishall devote personal attention to the
subject from this side; and that, if we solve
the mystery for them, a fee of 6,000 will con
tent me; while, if we fall to do so, I shall ask
nothing but my representative's expenses. I
hear today by cable that they are satisfied with
these conditions, and I invite you, therefore, to
Hail in the Royal Mail steam packet Don from
Southampton on Wednesday next."
"Delighted, sir."
"It will be a considerable feather in your
cap if you can make anything of the crime. The
data are involved, and one cannot build the,
ytnost shadowy theory of what occurred upon
r them. Indeed I shall not trouble vnu with tlinsn
voluminous but vague documents. Tou can go
"with an cpen and an empty mind, for if I hand
Wou this screed, you'll be puzzling at it all the
iway to Barbados and, possibly, arrive with
f some cut and dried idea that will stand in your
way and oven cloud your Judgment before you
begin.
"It's a criminal case on the face of it, and
involves three dead men, but, apparently, no
body who is alive. - Quite interesting and, I
should say, quite ' difficult; but that's only an ,
impression. You may clear it up yourself with-.
t out much trouble; or you may put me in a
position to do so from England; or It may beat
us both. See me again before you go; and book
your passage today, otherwise you won't get a
comfortable berth. There's a great rush among
holiday people on the West Indies this year."
"One question. Where am I to go?"
"Only with the home ship to Barbados. The
case lien In that Island alone, so far as I know.
Should you have to go farther afield, of course
you will do so. Good luck, my friend. I hope
it's something that may prove useful to ybui
i and I feel sanguine of your success."
i I thanked the great man and withdrew well
fiileased, for Duveen's compliments were few and
ar between. He never praised, but his satis
faction took shape of work, and I knew very
well that he had not chosen me for what sound
ed to be a fairly important investigation with
out assurance that I should do Justice to his
international name.
A fortnight later there came a morning
when I lounged on the deserted deck of the Don
' and watched a glorious blending of . moonlight
and dawn. '
Barbados had been for some time visible,
, lying like a huge sea monster, between the
flashing whito light, on Bagged Point and a
'-', crlmsen beacon, above a further promontory;
but now the sun climbed up-heaven, as only he
' clifribs in the tropics, an! the island was limned
every detail under his tremendous blase.
I saw low, undulating, cultivated lands, whereon
the miles of sugar cane looked at first like fields
. of grass-green wheat or barley;-I noted the
windmills) and , dotted dwellings and brown,
tilled earth; while beneath them, crowned with 1
palms that clustered to the shore, spread
Bridgetown, with Its gleaming masses of white
architecture beside the blue waters and sun
bleached beaches.
A fleet of lighters manned with men of every
hue, from mahogany to brown, from yellow to
putty-color, was soon about us, while dozens of
smaller vessels crowded in as soon as the shore
authorities were satisfied. The sun blazed; the
-steam winches groaned and chattered; people
I rushed hither and thither shaking hands and
Asaylng farewell, gathering luggage and tipping
stewards ere they departed.
Then came a message for me, and presently
' hit trunk and kit-bags were lowered into a white
.'' boat with crimson cushions. J- '
A good-looking, sun-tanned individual sat in
K end greeted me pleasantly, while two negroes
pulled the boat ashore. ' He was browned by the
srS JrQpic sun, but his gray eyes and fair hair and
elean-cut cast of features proclaimed him an
Englishman. He was tall, well built, and dressed
In black clothes, which somewhat concealed his
size and muscular development. He might have
been 45, but life In Barbados had tended to age
him, and I learned presently that he was but
5 and 30 years of age.
' ,. Amos Slannlng, owner of the famous Pelican
' plantations and sugar factories, chatted as we
rowed ashore; but he spoke with an object, and
gave m various items of Information that
X erved as preliminary to the story he was to tell.
7 ''Barbados." he said, "unlike most of the
West Indies, has had a fairly peaceful history.
An English ship took possession of it in -1605,
and it has never changed hands since. There's
no mere loyal corner of the empire than Birm
hire, a3 we call this, island.
v "You see before you the last of the West
Tndiar. Slannings, and. I suppose, the wealthiest
' !?&n Jr. Barbados. Time and chance have re
duced us to one, since my twin brother, Harry,
was murdered recently; and though nothing can
bring him back from the grave. I shall' not go
to my own in peace if the profound mystery of
" his death is left unexplained."
He asked me questions concerning Duveen,
while I explained that," though my chief could
' not come personally to explore the problem, he
had sent me, that I might gather every possible
particular at first hand and report to him. I
brought letters from headquarters for Mr. Slan
nlng, and presently we went together to the Ice
House and sat for half an hour at that famous
restaurant while he perused them.
"Now I understand," he said, "and heartily
I hope you are not here In vain. We'll go to the
club now and lunch. Then I'll tell you the
story, as far as I know It; and then we'll go
home. You'll put up with me, I trust?"
This, however, I declined to do, and ex
plained that It was my purpose to be entirely
t free during the coming weeks.
I 'To stop with you might handicap me in
" many ways," I said, and he raised no question.
We were soon on our way to the club. But
an Incident broke the brief Journey.
: There passed , us a " little victoria In which
sat two ladies, and the car -was stopped -while
, Amos . Slanning dismounted and spoke with
them. One, a handsome, middle-aged woman,
he addressed, while the other listened. . She
was a very pretty young creature an exotic
here, at it seemed to me, for she was paie ana
her blue eyes lacked luster. One had pictured
her at home with roses in her cheeks; here she
challenged one's sympathy as a hardy flower
-en in a hothouse.
'Tell me you are better," said Slanning to
, the elder, and she shook hands warmly and as-
' sured him that she was.
v "Poor May is not, however. I'm going to
tax her to America for the summer, "she said.
"Yon are wise," he answered, gently regard
ing the girl,. ".'Let her have distractions, the
ev childTr-ahe needs themT
Then his voice dropped, and I doubted not
that he was .mentioning me.
A moment later he introduced me. The girl
bowed, but did not speak; her mother shook
hands and hoped that Z should be successful.
"All who loved my dear friend's brother
share his sorrow," she said quietly. "And there
is nobody on earth who knew him that did not
love him. But you are faced with the profound
est difficulties, for this shocking deed was with
out motive so far as any human being can see."
Sho spoke clearly and with deep, earnestness,
and added that she hoped I would come and see
her if I found it desirable to do so.
They drove on, and Slanning trusted I had
marktd them carefully.
"Nothing," he said, "connects them with my
brother's . death, and yet, to my mind, there
may exist some link. They are dear friends,
and Lady Warrender's late husband, General
Sir George Warrender, was also a dear friend to
my brother and myself. But all unconsciously
and innocently, the. ladies may, none the less,
be Involved in some way hidden from them
selves and us. That will be for you to consider
when you know all that I can tell you."
"The girl looks very ill," I said.
"She is with reason. But the illness is of
the mind, not the body. She has had a sad
shock." '
We reached the public square, wherein the
object of chief interest was a green bronze
statue of Lord Nelson; and then arriving at
Slanning's club, alighted and presently enjoyed
a lunch of many delicacies.
After the meal he led me into a small, pri
vate smoking-room where we should be alone.
He ottered a cigar, which I declined, since the
"business of my visit was now to begin. Nor did
. he smoke himself, but entered at once upon his
narrative. , ' "
"Stop me and ask any questions that may
occur to you," he said, and then proceeded.
"My mother died when Henry and I were
boys ot 14 years old. We were in England at
'the time and had Just gone from a preparatory
school to Harrow. From there we proceeded
together to Cambridge. During the winter va
cation we used to come out to my father here,
while in the summer he usually visited Europe
and took us with him to France or Italy. . We
were Just completing our years at the university
when my father, Fitzherbert Slanning, passed
away somewhat suddenly he had always been
a delicate man and Henry and I were called
to the estates. My father always held that ab
sentee landlords were the ruin of the West In
dies and, long' before he died, made us promise
to live and work here. We kept our word.
, "It is, I believe, a rooted opinion that twins
resemble each other closely in every particular
of appearance and character and taste; and
doubtless it often happens so; but I cannot flat
. ter myself that I was half the man my brother
was. He had better brains, better Judgment,
and a larger measure of self-control. ' We re
sembled each other superficially, but "he had a
more thoughtful countenance and a less impetu
ous disposition. I would not say
that I was the optimist and Henry
the pessimist; but whereas my na
ture led me to be sanguine and
trustful, he was more cautious and a
far shrewder Judge-of character,'
"We had a valuable! overseer,
faithful to my father and trained in 1
-a school to whom the Slannings
were a tradition. , He helped to seat -us
In the saddle, and since we were
both workers and well educated, we
carried on the great sugar industry -
that our ancestors had founded with
success and created respect and con
fidence. We were singularly alone, for it hap
pened that my father was the last of his line,
, and now no oter Slanning than myself has any
direct interest W the Pelican estates. They were
ours absolutely, and now they are mine, to
gether with the great revenues they furnish and
responsibilities they embrace.
"Life passed for us uneventfully and pros
perously. We were everything on earth to each
other, and had not, as I believed, an idea un
shared or an ambition not held in common. I
stuck to the business entirely; Henry developed
wider activities, Joined the administration and
did useful public work.
"He was a man of extraordinary generosity;
he loved to advance the welfare of the island
and the humblest upon it. If it can be said of
any man that he had not an enemy, that can
be said of my brother. He was the soul of
justice, and displayed an enthusiasm for hu
manity that won the respect of the rich and
the worship of the poor. Yet this man has
been deliberatly destroyed by a fellow man un
der circumstances of the profoundest mystery;
and when he perished another died also one
who would have laid down his life for Henry
or myself a thousand times. This was John
Diggle, a full-blooded negro, whose forbears
have worked for generations at the Pelican. He
was a watchman, and his business required that
he should guard the plantations at night. The
looser sort of negro will always pilfer, and none
Is immune from that annoyance. At the time of
cane-cutting, therefore, we look after our
boundaries; and if the blackguards who come
thieving about know that they may get a bul
let about their ears,they think twice before
committing depredations.
"It was an old custom that niggers found by
our estate police in the cane by night were
challenged and, if they did not respond, fired
upon. It is a very ancient enactment of course
not followed nowadays.
"The manner of Henry's death, I will now
describe. After a night of full moon he did not
join me at breakfast according to his custom,
and sending a servant to seek him, I found he
was neither in his bedroom nor study
"Puzzled, I looked round myself, but could
see nothing of him. Then came the evil news
from the cane-fields, and I mounted my, horse
and rode out to a spot a mile from home, lying
in a clearing on the outskirts of the plantations
not very far from the Crane hotel, on the south
coast of the island. My brother was lying dead,
shot through the breast, and actually upon him
John Diggle also lay, a corpse. His gun, with
both barrels discharged, appeared nearly 20
yards from the bodies; and that it was Diggle's
gun which had destroyed both my dear brother
and himself there could be no question, for. the
cartridges were of a peculiar bore and the heavy'
swan shot unlike anything else of this sort in
Barbados. v - ,
"Another weapon was discovered a revolv
er, brand new, and with all its chambers empty.
It had evidently never been fired, and I had not
seen it or heard of it; but subsequent investiga
tion showed that my brother had bought It in
England with a box of 100 cartridges, which
was never even opened. The revolver is one of
Forrest's make, and why Henry bought it, see
ing his curious hatred and dread of firearms, is
surely a part of this mystery.
"Medical examination proved that neither
man had been shot at close range a fact that
disposed of an obvious theory. For the local
police colored people suspected that poor
Diggle had murdered Henry and then shot him
self; but this Is impossible. First, he worshiped
Henry as something more than a man, and
would have . suffered any imaginable torture
rather than hurt a hair of his head, and, second,
he himself was shot from some distance oft.
From the nature of the wounds it was calcu
lated that the gun must have been fired at a
range of 20 yards the distance it was found
lying from 'the' bodies.
"Ten yards from the spot where my brother
fell, hidden in the plantation, we came upon a
pile of cut pane nd one of the common axes
M I V-
"My brother was lying dead,
not through thm breast, and actually
upon him John Diggle alto lay a eor.'
used for cutting it. - This would not have been
there under normal circumstances, and pointed
to the fact of a thief. He had apparently been
busy when disturbed. But of him no trace is
forthcoming, though a handsome reward has
been offered to the rascal if he will come for
ward and tell us anything he knows. .
"Why my brother was out that night Is, of
course, part of this problem; for there existed,
no shadow of reason that he should have been.
He never did such a thing to my knowledge be
fore, and though he often took solitary rides
and. walks, being of a meditative spirit, it was
not, of course, his rule to . rise after retiring.
Yet on the night of his death he must have
awakened from sleep, drawn on his boots, flung
a black alpaca coat over . his pajamas, and
sauntered out a mile or more into the planta
tions, to the beat where he knew that Diggle.
would be doing his work and . keeping his
rounds.
"I now come to the third man who. appears
to have lost his life on this fatal night Per
sonally I do not associate him in. any way with
the story I have told you. I see no shadow of
connection between the two crimes, and I am
tolerably confident indeed we all are that the'
poor wretch known as Solly Lawson got his
throat cut by an enemy. .
"He was a half-caste employed at the Peli
can who lived with an old, black mother in a
cabin near the cliffs. He was a worthless, hot
tempered beggar, with a dog-like, affection for
my brother and myself; but he quarreled with
his fellows and always gave himself great airs
on the strength of his white blood. Solly had
a way with the ladies also, and made a good
deal of trouble in his own circle of society. He
has fought various battles and figured in more
than one paternity case; but though the poor
fellow thus earned some reprobation, we, weak
ly enough, forgave him a great many of his
sins, for he was a mirth-provoking spirit with
ready wit; and as much for his old mother and
his dead father's sake as his own, we kept him
on and forgave him his stupid sons. -
"He had been locked up twice, and knew
that one more serious offense would be the last
so far as the Pelican was concerned; but it
seemed of late that he had reformed and was
becoming a useful member of the community.
So, at least, old Mrs. Lawson. declared.
"Well, on the day that was black with this
double murder came news of Solly Lawson's
end. The debonair creature, so witty and full
of life such a secret Joy to us and such a
source of endless exasperation to his fellows
was found dead with his throat cut from ear
to ear. .
"An sccident revealed the murder, - for-the
body lay on a shelf under the cliffs, midway be
tween the summit and the deep sea that rolled
beneath. It was evident that those responsible
for his destruction had flung him over, after
murdering him, and that, instead of falling into
the water 200 feet below, as they Intended, the
unseen ledge had received him. From this,
when found, he was subsequently lowered into
a boat and brought ashore. The fall had broken
seyeral bones, but the fatal wound was in his
throat
"In his case, also, no motive whatever for
his murder has appeared; and though I doubt
not It was over another woman that he finally
came to grief, nothing throws light on the sub
ject, and no man, or men, in Barbados can be
fairly suspected of the business.
"Thus we have three capital crimes, all of
which, on the face of it,, are motiveless; and
while in the case of Solly, as I say, we may feel
very euro' that he awakened some secret ma
. lignity and brought his punishment upon him
self,' while there' probably are those among us
: who know the secret of his death, so far as my
' brother -and John Diggle are -concerned no
shadow of reason for their destruction can be
: found on the Island, or in the world.
"Of my brother I have spoken; while Diggle,
in his humble capacity, similarly enjoyed the
respect' and regard of all men. We had not a
more popular servant on the plantation, or in
the . factories. He leaves a wife and three
. youngsters, and my brother was godfather to
: the eldest, while to the second I stood in the
- same relation.
".That is the dreadful outline you . will have
to .fill In, young "man; and now please ask me
what .questions may occur to you, unless you
would rather leave them to a later occasion."
."I shall have many questions to ask, Mr.
. Slanning," I answered; "but at this point per
haps' you will tell me a little about Lady War
render and her daughter."
"Gladly. The incident which connects them
'. with my brother's name lies outside those I
have narrated, in my opinion; nor can I link it
with ' Henry's death. But you will approach
this matter with an open mind, and in any case
must hear It and regard it as a confidence. This
was one of the few experiences that my dear
brother kept from me entirely; nor should I
. have i ever known but for the ladies themselves.
"A year ago now Henry told me I ought to
marry, and I retorted that it was quite as much
his business as mine.' He admitted it, and we
chaffed one another; but I regarded him as an
incurable bachelor ' and - believed myself to be
one. In truth,-however, Henry desired to mar-
; ry and, with-what looks now like extraordinary
secrecy, ' cultivated little May Warrender. .Her,
' mother did -not know it until afterwards; but'
' when - Henry died, the girl revealed to her
mother that he had much desired to marry her
. and proposed twice."
"Yoi: have no reason to doubt her?"
' ' "None, for she is not the sort- to invent any
such ' story. Perhaps, if I had heard such a
' thing from anybody but those people, I might
have disbelieved; but it is impossible to doubt
' them. ' Henry evidently loved her and strove '
1 hard to win her; but he was old for his age
and doubtless seemed much older, than he was
to a girl not 20. Whether he was deeply die-
appointed or not can never be known. He was
such a- philosopher that I do not suppose he al
lowed the matter to trouble him more than was
; inevitable. May liked him immensely, and
when he died, she was quite 111 for a time, but
when she told her mother, she also declared
that marriage with him would have been im
possible. "Probably, as I say, his reverse did not cast
Henry down unduly, for he was a very quick
minded and intelligent man and a great student
of human nature. Moreover, had it made any
very poignant Impression upon him, I cannot
; think It would have been hidden from me, even
though he had tried to hide it We knew each
other too well, and he certainly did not depart
at that time from his customary, steadfast
frame, of mind not before me, at any rate. He
was " level-headed and well-balanced as usual."
. So Amos Slanning's statement ended, and
what chiefly struck me was the innumerable
permutations and combinations that might be
drawn from it That the speaker had told me
the truth, as he saw it, I could not doubt He
was .a simple-minded, Ingenuous man and evi
dently very deeply moved by his loss. For the
rest, it became a question how to pursue my
Inquiries to the best advantage.
The local police had no theory and no clue;
while those chiefly Interested In all the dead
men were in the same predicament Nobody
could fit the facts together and make a rational
story out of them; .indeed, the very material
seemed doubtful, for the body of opinion sepa
rated the death of the young, half-caste,-Solly
Lawson, from that of the others, and held it
only as a coincidence that he had lost his life
at tho same time.
After his recital Mr. Slanning took me for a
long ride about the island, and we stopped at
the scenes of the incidents in his story. Mile
after mile of sugar cane extended upon every
side of us. Great Jungles of it fringed the road
with their drooping, polished stenis, tawny tan
. gles of dried leaves below and bright green
crowns above.
Beside a little, neat house surrounded by a
hedge of prickly pear, a - big calabash tree
grew, and"' its green, polished fruit hung from
jagged, almost leafless boughs.
"That's where poor Diggle's widow lives,"
said Slanning, "and we are now within a mile
of the scene of the tragedy. Now you can see
the general outline of the Pelican estates,
sweeping in an arc to north and south and
ranging almost to the coral cliffs near the
Crane hotel. If you woa't come to me, you
might take quarters there to be on the scene
of your work."
But knowing not where that work would
be, I determined for the present to remain in
Bridge-town, and after standing in a cane clear
ing on the scene of his brother's death and
visiting the stately home of the last of the
Barbados Slannings, I returned to town and
presently took a couple of rooms in a secluded
square not far from the club.
My object was to work unknown, as far as
possible, and in this . ambition Amos Slanning
assisted , me. My business was not specified,
though I soon found that most people were
aware of it I wanted, of course, to learn much
that the dead man's brother could tell me, and
' since the matter still remained a nine days' won
der, all men were glad enough to talk about it,
and the conversation in the club smoking-room
often drifted round to it.
I had been elected a temporary member of
this institution, and spent a few days almost
entirely within its walls. I found Amos Slan
ning immensely popular; indeed, even more
so than Henry had been; for while men spoke
of the brother with respect, and deplored his
sudden end, it seemed that he had. not awak
ened enthusiasm. Indeed, the rest of man
kind saw him with different eyes from his twin.
A Creole lawyer at the club knew both well,
and gave me a friendly but Independent descrip
tion of them.
"Henry Slanning was a man of affairs," he
said. "He had ambition, and little liked to be
contradicted. But few ever contradicted him,
for he was a very sane man, a sound democrat,
and knew the trend of contemporary thought
You can form no complete opinion of him
through his brother. He had none of the san
guine spirit and natural cheerfulness that marks
. Amos. He was, in fact, of a melancholy cast
of mind even morbid sometimes.';
"Have you any theory of events?" I asked,
for the sake of conversation, and the other an
swered that he had none.
"Had Henry1 been faced with any great and
'crushing disappointment," he said, "or had he
found himself up against some stroke of fate
beyond the power of his money, or brains, to
withstand, I can imagine he might have de
stroyed himself. His brother, of course, says
that under no conceivable circumstances would
he have done such a thing; others, however,
agree with me so far. But this is no suicide,
obviously. He was deliberately shot from some
distance 15 to 20 yards, the doctors say. Be
sides, no circumstances exist, to my knowledge,
which had caused Henry any sort of unhappl-
- ness."
So he spoke and revealed that he was not
- familiar with the fact that the dead man had
proposed marriage and been rejected. Indeed,
so I found it invariably among the numerous
men who had something to say about the mat
ter. Nearly all could furnish some item of
information, or some experiences throwing
light on character. All helped to complete the
picture of Henry Slanning; but none, from his
brother to the billiard-marker at the ' Club,
' could give a complete portrait &nd I perceived
the picture might never . be completed unless
Duveen himself proved equal to that task.
Almost my first visit was to Lady Warren
der, and her description of the murdered man
differed slightly from the rest She said he was
of a religious temperament, but unorthodox and
not devoted to any particular form of faith.
"Did you know that he desired to marry
Miss Warrender?"
"I had no idea of it. Sometimes I chaffed
him - and his brother about finding wives and
not letting the famous Barbados Slannings die
out with them; but Henry always said that
Amos was the marrying man. May "would have
kept his proposal a secret, as he begged her
to do, had it not been for his death. Then she
felt it was only right to confide In me, and I
told his brother. One never knows what may
bear upon a question."
"You noticed no change in him laterly?"
"None. It was about six weeks after his re
jection that he died."
. ."Should you have objected to such a mar
riage?". , t
"Far from it. He was a distinguished and
honourable man a gentleman In the highest
acceptation of the term. My daughter liked
him, and it. hurt her much to make him sad;
but she did not love him. Though only 15
years older than May, he seemed far more to
her, for he was old for his age and a staid, quiet
man, averse from society, fond of t reading, and
with no pleasures in which the average girl
could share. He would have made a splendid
husband, but not for May."
Gradually I built up the picture of Henry
Slanning, yet I cannot say. that I ever saw the
man very clearly. He came and went, some
times grew clear, then receded again. Some, I
found, held him a cynic, with the warm heart
a 'dyrric often conceals; others, of a religious
frame of mind, doubted him as one not ortho
dox. .None denied that much good could be
credited to him, and in only one quarter, and
that very unexpected, did I find a doubt or a
suggestion that he had ever committed an act '
open to question. .
, I visited the - widow of John Diggle, who
- proved ' a talker. But she was intelligent, her
memory seemed trustworthy, and her honesty
obvious. She was gathering washing from the
thorny hedge outside her little home, and she
chatted mournfully of her husband, the night
watchman, and his virtues.
"Him not an enemy, sar de kindest man
and do best husband. Him work for Marse
Henry an' Marse Amos for years an' years, an'
nebber a hard -word from dem all de time. Dey
fink do world ob him, an' my po' John, he fink
de world ob dem."
"Let me come into your house and sit down,
Mrs. Diggle, out of the sun. I'm sure every
" body has been very sad for you. Mr. Diggle
was greatly respected."
"A most respectable man, sar, an' only
wicked legues that tlet de cane ebber quarrel -wid
him."
"Had he any quarrel with Solly Lawson, the
poor nigger who had his throat cut?"
"Nebber. He knew dat Solly was a wild nig-
ger; but John 'mark able gentle wid young men
and he said Solly mend some day. He a most
Christian person, my John."
"Tell me about him. I am very interested
to hoar about him."
She rambled on for a while, and gradually I
brought her to her last memories of .the man.
"Did he ever do anything that Mr. Henry
didn't approve of?"
"No, sar nebber."
"Did Mr. Henry ever do anything your hus
band din't approve?"
"No, sar; Marse Henry a good man. But
but" .
"They always agreed?"
"Now you say dat, I mind a queer fing, sar.
One day one, two, free days before him die,
my John came In sad to him breakfus, an' I
say, 'What de matter, John?' An' him say,
'Nuffin.' But I say, 'Dar somefln, 'cause yo'
head wrinkle up an yo' puff fro' your nose.'
An' him say, 'You dam' silly ole woman, Jane.'
Den, 'fore he go out in de pigeon peas to work,
he say, 'Blast dem wicked folk dat steal de cane
dey make trouble an' it fall on me.' '
"Was much cane being stolen?"
"No, sar. Dar always a little gwlne by
night; an' John he cotch a man sometimes;
but it am nuffln much, an' I nebber heard him
worry 'bout it. So I say, 'Yo' no worry, John,
bout a silly fing like dat,' an he say, 'I got to
worry, 'cause Marse Henry, him worry. 'An
Marse Henry, him tell me I no' sharp enough
an' no' do my duty to de tiefs an' forget how to
treat tie rogues. I terrible surprised to hear
my husband say dat, an John, he run on, an
he say he do what he told in future, whatebber
happens, an' no question orders; an I say, 'You
always do what you told, John.' "
"Did he explain any more about It?"
"No. Him go 'way growling, but him soon
get happy again. He said no' mo' 'bout it till
John gone killed an' Marse Henry gone killed;
an' den I wish I knew mo' 'bout it; but too lata
den. Po John him shot in de side an him
heart blown to pieces." -
"I suppose Mr. Slanning couldn't have shot
your husband?"
"Me Gard! Marse Henry shoot -John? To
might as well fink John shoot Marse Henry.
Marse Henry a gemman dat hated killing any
flng. Him nebber flreti a gun in him life. Him
nebber squashed a scorpion. He love John, for
him told me so, when John ill once. An' John
him have died a hundred times for Marse
Henry, or Marse Amos. He berry faithful man
an' live for his masters."
"Have you any idea in your mind, Mrs. Dig
gle,' what happened? If John has sometimes
arrested men for stealing sugar cane, he may
have had enemies."
"No, de man or two dat went to prison no
fink bad ob John. It all In de day's work for
bad man to be cotch some time. And John
him shot wid him own gun 'member dat. John
carry him gun himself. He nebber put it out
of him hand."
"It would have been impossible, you think,
for anybody to get his gun away from John?"
"Only Marse Henry do dat. If Marse Henry
come by night an say, "Lend me yo' gun, John.'
den John lend him. But Marse Henry no want
gun. Him hate guns."
"Did your husband ever say he had met Mr.
Slanning on his rounds by night?"
"Nebber, sar. He sure tell me if such a
funny fing as dat happen, 'cause Marse Henry
and Marse Amos, dey never go near de planta
tions by night." v
"Have any of your friends any idea, what
may have happened?"
"Only silly folk. Dey fink de debble tell
Marse Henry to go out in de night an' put it
In John's head to shoot him; an' den de debble
, shoot John; but what Gard A'mlghty doin all
de time? Marse Henry an' John berry good
men, an dey In hebben now wid golden crowns
on der heads an golden wings an' golden harps,
sar; but dat de wilL ob Gard. An' it no better
for de wicked murderer dat dey happy now.
He go to hell all de same, whar him belong.!'
"You don't think Solly Lawson had any
thing to do with it?"
"I doan' know nuffln 'bout dat. He killed
dead, too, so nobody nebber know if him dar
or not."
"He was a sort of chap who might steal
cane?",
"Him tief plenty cane, I dare say, Massa;
but him nebber do nuffin 'gainst Marse Henry
Marse Henry stand up for him plenty times.
De niggers tief cane 'cause dey terrible ig'rant
fellows an' no fink how wicked dey are; but
dey no fall out wid udder gemmen 'bout it Dat
po' Solly if him see anybody treatin John bad.
or treatin' Marse Henry bad, he run to help
dem; I'se sure."
She whined on a shrewd, sensible creature
enough, and one's heart bled for her grief, for
she often stopped talking to Weep. ' It was
personal sorrow at her loss and no fear for the
future that troubled her, for Amos Slanning had,
provided for her and her children.
And elsewhere, a few days later, my In
quiries took me to see another sad, black wo
man, the mother of the murdered Solly Lawson
Mrs. Mary Lawson's cabin stood near the
place of. her son's death. She was a little, with
ered negress who had married an Englishman!
an old sailor who found work at the Pelican
When h left the coasting trade In the Antilles.
Mary could add little to my knowledge; hut she
confirmed what others had said of Solly.
"Him no vice, sar only berry fond ob de
gals an berry good lookln' my dear boy was
He lost him head and did silly flngs an' fell out
wid de neighbors; but him no wicked deepi
down, an' him always terrible sorry after. Hint
an mu oh full nh life dat it ran awav with him
a berry 'scitable boy, sar, an' dash at fings an
often get in a mess, but ebb'rybody forgib him
after sorry. An' Marse Henry he never rough,
wid Solly 'cause Solly so quick wid his tongue,
he always get round Marse Henry an Marse
Amos, too, an' make dem laugh."
"He was fond of them?"
"He lub dem nuffin too good for dem
he tell me dat a fousand times. All de world
lub dem dar nobody on de earf dat would hurt
dem. An' If Solly him see anybody do harm
or Marse Henry or Marse Dlggte he so fierce
him be dat he fight dem an' no care if he kill
dem." . -
. "He was friendly to JohnDiggle, too?"
"Yes, ear he friendly to Marse Diggle. Marse
Diggle a berry nice gemman, an' kind to my son
when odder folks cross wid him."
"But suppose Marse Diggle had seen your
son stealing sugar-cane?"
"Den Marse Diggle would hab got Solly lock
up. God forgib my Solly, dat happened one or
two times; but John forgib Solly after him pun
ished, an' Solly ho angry wid Marse Diggle after.
When a fing done, It done, sar."
"You wouldn't say that Solly might not have
been stealing cene that night?"
"No, sar, I wouldn't say dat He might;
but I Ao fink him dar. I no fink him far from
him home. I fink some bad men quarrel wid
Solly ober a gal, an' lie hid for him an pounce
on my po' boy while him come home, an' kill
him."
"More men than one?"
"Yes, 'cause Solly berry quick an' strong.
Dar no nigger In dese parts strong 'nough to
kill- my Solly single-handed wid a knife an' den
fro him ober de cliff. It take six, sebben men
to do dat."
She dwelt on her son's great strength with
mournful satisfaction.
"You cannot give a name to anybody who
might have had a grudge against him?"
"No, sar nobody. Him been berry good boy
for long time now. An' I ask all de niggers
if dey know anybody what hab a down on
Solly, an nobody know. But dar must be some
body done it I fink sailormen, who sail away
de next day, might hab done It."
"You know of no girl who cared for your
on, or quarreled with him?"
'Tlenty gals, sar; but he only firjendj wij
iTum ta race Ihras. CttlasM OmJU
