The Silver Bullet. Fergus Hume

generally considered that he was the criminal, most people holding that he had shot the Colonel unawares. Napper's evidence went to prove that the two men were on bad terms with one another, and probably Frisco excited by rum and a sense of his wrongs, whatever these might be, had returned to "The Pines" with the intention of righting himself. No one entertained the idea of a duel having been fought. Only Mrs. Marsh gave Frisco that grace. Herrick considered her theory a feasible one, and felt that it was confirmed by the fact of the revolver found in the dead man's hand being loaded. If Frisco had fired first, the Colonel would have fallen with his weapon undischarged, and this would account for the six chambers being filled. But what it would not account for was the fact of one bullet being different to the remaining three. That was a puzzle, and Dr. Jim could in nowise arrive at the solution of the problem, although he thought over it a great deal.

      Bess Endicotte was the only person who insisted on Frisco's innocence. She declared that the man was too devoted to his master to kill him, and that there could be no reason for the crime. This she explained to Herrick a week after the interview with Mrs. Marsh. Both Herrick and Marsh had come over to Biffstead to spend the afternoon, intending to return to Beorminster by the last bus, somewhere about ten o'clock. It was characteristic of Stephen's simple habits that he still went to and fro by the public vehicle, although he could now have afforded a cart, a horse, a bicycle, or even (had he so chosen) a motor-car. But before taking full advantage of his new position and of his wealth, he wanted his mother to be well enough to direct matters. She had held him in subjection for so many years, that he hesitated to do anything without her approval. So Herrick and Stephen came to Saxham by the bus, or used their legs. For the sake of his health Herrick made Marsh walk as much as possible. The man was visionary and it was necessary to shake him into something like practical life by exercise.

      On arriving at the Grange, the two young men, found the whole family at home. There was Ida tall and beautiful who welcomed the visitors in her usual placid way. She was of the Junoesque type, stately and maternal, moving like a large goddess amongst minor mortals. Bess, who was all alert and vivacious, was accustomed to make fun of Ida's stately ways. "The Sacred White Cow," said Bess folding her hands, and when Ida remonstrated pointed out that the term meant no disrespect. "Juno was called ox-eyed, and I'm sure the cow is a most beautiful animal," said she inconsequently. "Why should a comparison to a useful animal be taken as an insult? If I said you were like a fawn, or a stag, or a swan, you would be quite pleased. But because I call you a lovely snowy cow--you _are_ a beautiful cow," broke off Bess with a shrug, "the sacred white cow. There!"

      "Really Bess, you are getting more dreadful every day," cried Ida helplessly, "please don't call me this horrid name when Stephen and Dr. Herrick come."

      "Dr. Herrick would understand; he is a scholar. However I won't call you anything but Juno--will that do?"

      "I should prefer to be called by my proper name!"

      Bess made a mouth but yielded the point. She was devotedly fond of Ida, and always said that her beauty would raise the family into affluence once more. "My _brains_ may do something," she said, "but Ida's looks will attract all the men of wealth and position."

      "I do not want any of them," protested Ida with a blush. "Do let me see after my own future, Bess darling."

      Undeniably Bess was the cleverest of the family. She was so bright and quick, and possessed of such indomitable perseverance, that she easily exercised a despotic sway over the weaker vessels. Ida looked after the house, but Bess was the real head who paid the bills, and bullied the tradesmen, and saw that everything was in order. Even Frank gave way before her. But Frank was rather like Ida in the matter of bovine simplicity. He was a big handsome fellow, never out of temper. When he was not looking after the farm he strolled in the fields, and searched into the secret workings of Nature. Sometimes he wrote articles for the papers and magazines. A Gilbert White of the Parish of Saxham, that is what Frank Endicotte was. Some of his articles had even been accepted in London, and when he could be induced to write, he usually made a few guineas. But Frank was lazy, and it needed all the scolding of Bess to make him do his duty in the way of literary work. So far as the farm went he was never idle, as he loved an open air-life, and took a genuine interest in stock, top drainage and crops.

      Florence, who was now home on her weekly holiday, bounced out on Dr. Jim and Stephen as they came up the avenue. She was a girl in her teens, more like Bess than any of the rest, and bubbled over with animal spirits. This was her last quarter at school, and now her hair was turned up and she had arrived at the dignity of long frocks. But at heart she was still a schoolgirl, and on this especial day had let down her long hair much to the dismay of Ida who was nothing if not conventional.

      "Oh, Stephen!" she cried clasping him by the arm. "I am so glad you have come. Frank is writing, Bess is typing, and Ida is making a new dress. I have no one to amuse me."

      "Where is the Changeling?" asked Stephen laughing.

      "Sidney! Oh, he has a holiday, and has gone over to see 'The Pines.' You know how fond he is of going there. He was the only one of us that was not afraid of the Colonel."

      "I don't think Bess was."

      "No. It would take an army to frighten Bess. How are you Dr. Herrick? I am rude not to have spoken to you before. Come inside, and wake us all up. I am sure this place is like the palace of the Sleeping Beauty."

      "Suppose we go over to 'The Pines' and have afternoon tea in one of the rooms," suggested Stephen. "There is no food there, but we can take what we want from here, and have a picnic."

      "Jolly!" cried Flo the schoolgirl, "there are kettles and tea-pots and all the rest of the things we want at 'The Pines' I suppose?"

      "The house is remarkably well furnished," said Herrick laughing. "It is a good idea; three o'clock. We had better go at once."

      The others entered into the scheme with avidity, and thus it was that Herrick found himself walking beside Bess to "The Pines." Not without a pang had he relinquished Ida to his friend; but bearing in mind the confidence reposed in him by Mrs. Marsh, he desired to act as fairly as possible. Besides he was growing fond of Bess. She was such a bright companion, and so clever. At first she was disinclined to speak of the Colonel and Frisco, but gradually became more outspoken. In his quiet way Herrick had a wonderful gift of making people talk. "I wouldn't say it to any one but you Dr. Jim," said Bess--for so she now called him, "but there is something about you that makes me believe in you. I think you must have a kind of daemonic influence like Goethe."

      "I am sympathetic if that is what you mean," said Jim. "I took to you immediately I saw you in the inn parlour."

      Bess blushed a little through her tanned skin, and cast a keen look at the big man. Somehow Herrick was conscious of that look, and wondered what it was for. Perhaps with a woman's quickness Bess divined that he admired Ida and did not approve of it. However she was too clever to say anything if such was the case, but went on to talk of Colonel Carr and Frisco.

      "I liked Frisco," she said in her quick decisive way, "he was a bad man and some of the things he told me he had done were really dreadful; but somehow he was attractive. Much better than the Colonel."

      "I thought you liked the Colonel," said Jim with a side glance.

      "Well you see it was this way," replied the girl laughing. "I was rather bold in introducing myself to him, and he was so kind that I forgave him his bad reputation."

      "How was it you met him?"

      "I wanted some copy for the Chronicle and did not know what to write about. Something had to be done, so I kept my ears open for an idea. Ida happened to mention something about 'The Pines,' so I thought it would be nice to see all the wonderful furniture that was in the house. Would you believe it," she added lightly, "I went straight to 'The Pines' and asked to see Colonel Carr? At first he refused, but I was so persistent that he let me come in. I told him frankly what I wanted and how hard up I was for an article. He was so taken back by my assurance that he said I could describe 'The Pines,' provided I did so under a fictitious name. Then he took me all over the house himself; gave me tea in the big drawing-room and sent me off. I got a good article out of what he showed me,