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Morrison, Arthur, 1863-1945

"Martin Hewitt, Investigator"

The long grass largely hid the bricks, and among it Wilks plunged
his hand, feeling along the brick surface. Presently he drew out a loose
brick, and laid it on the slab. He felt again in the place, and brought
forth a small dark object. I saw Hewitt rise erect in the gathering dusk,
and with extended arm step noiselessly toward the stooping man. Wilks made
a motion to place the dark object in his pocket, but checked himself, and
opened what appeared to be a lid, as though to make sure of the safety of
the contents. The last light, straggling under the trees, fell on a
brilliantly sparkling object within, and like a flash Hewitt's hand shot
over Wilks' shoulder and snatched the jewel.
The man actually screamed--one of those curious sharp little screams that
one may hear from a woman very suddenly alarmed. But he sprang at Hewitt
like a cat, only to meet a straight drive of the fist that stretched him
on his back across the slab. I sprang from behind my stone, and helped
Hewitt to secure his wrists with a pocket-handkerchief. Then we marched
him, struggling and swearing, to the village.


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