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Bacheller, Irving, 1859-1950

"Darrel of the Blessed Isles"

The skin was cut in little squares, where the shot struck
him, and that is one of the strong points against you."
"Against me?" said Trove.
"Yes--that and another. It seems the robber left behind him one
end of a bar of iron. The other end of the same bar and a
sling-shot--the very one that probably felled the clerk--have been
found."
The speaker rose and walked half across the room and back, looking
down thoughtfully.
"I tell ye what, old fellow," said he, sitting down again, "it is
mighty strange. If I didn't know you well, I'd think you guilty.
Here comes a detective who says under oath that one night he saw
you come out of your lodgings, about eleven o'clock, and walk to
the middle of the bridge and throw something into the water. Next
morning bar and shot were found. As nearly as he could make out
they lay directly under the place where you halted."
Darrel sat looking thoughtfully at the speaker.
"A detective ?" said Trove, rising erect, a stern look upon him.
"Yes--Dick Roberts."
"Roberts, a detective!" said Trove, in a whisper. Then he turned
to Darrel, adding, "I shall have to find the Frenchman."
"Louis Leblanc?" the young man asked.


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