ton top of the blaze. I wish nothing left of me sut the ashes, and you can scatter these. “If you fail to obey this small request of a lying man, then may the curse of my forefathers est on you, and may the last view you get of ae haunt you forever. Adolf Hessler.” “Phooey!” remarked one of the settlers. ‘Quite finnicky about the disposition of his yrecious remains. He didn’t do much good yere when he was alive; why should we do his Hindu suttee stuff for him.: What d’you ay, sergeant?” “Okay! Just dig a hole for him at the snd of the clearing, over there where it is ‘ree from drifted snow. That.should be good enough for any corpse.” And that is exactly what they did—a ‘our - feet- deep hole, and “Goodbye, old sock! We'll know where to find you if we jeed you later,” was the Mad Goblin’s ‘uneral service. A nice little mound, with a few white stones on top, and the boys were through. _ As the only way to get rid of the pest- jouse that had been the Mad Goblin’s home, che Inspector agreed to fire it. They set it alight, and stood back to watch it blaze, for he is a queer codger, man or boy, who doesn’t like to watch a fire. That shack went up like pitch and dyna- mite. Jt roared, and seethed, and hissed, with the flames hitting the roof of the sky till the onlookers had to back away to save themselves from a roasting. The walls of the shack stood stubbornly around what seemed to be a white hot furnace. It was an awesome sort of sight, away out there in that tiny clearing, backed by the density of the trees around, with every man staring, half-hypnotised, and with not a word to bandy between them. Suddenly, out of the stillness, old man Dobel the storekeeper screeched in fear: “Great God! Sergeant! See —the Mad Goblin?” Every man stiffened as if an electric shock had bolted through him. Instinctively, all turned in the direction Dobel had in- dicated. And there, sure enough, apparently as alive as any man among them, was the Mad Goblin—big, broad, bearded, and grim, as he came striding down from the place they had so recently buried him. Not one of the men there spoke. None seemed to dare to. A strange chill was freezing them solid, creeping relentlessly to the base of their spines. The hair rose at the nape of Dalgleish’s neck, as it had done but once before, and his tongue began to curl at the back of his mouth, much as he had already come through in his long adven- turous lifetime. If this Mad Goblin—man or ghost—had had a mind to, he could have killed every man-jack of them, and not a hand would have been raised by one of them in self- defence. On came this creature, striding calmly toward the shack, paying no heed to the men standing there. He had come round the side of the blazing house and made for the broken doorway. He turned at the entrance. His dark eyes were wide open and flashed in a mad exultation. He grinned in a savage, derisive way, showing his large white teeth. He raised his hand in the now well known German salutation, brought his heels together, and for a moment looked every inch a soldier. Then he backed quickly and disappeared into the blaze. The moment he did so, fire shot to the sky as if the very fiends of hell were at play there inside; and as the onlookers stood agape, the walls fell inward with a crash and a shower of brilliant starry sparks. Then gradually the flames subsided until nothing was left but red smouldering ashes and smoking black char. Every man there had seen what the others had seen. Hallucination! Mass hypnotism! That is what one felt inclined to say in an endeavour to explain away his own sensations and possible misgivings. “We'd better settle this once and for all time,” remarked the Inspector. “I for one am never going to allow this doubt to haunt me all through my life. Let’s go dig out the earth that’s in this man Goblin’s grave. That'll surely prove what fools we all are.” Goblin’s burial place was slick, and neat, and trim, as they had left it less than an hour before, even to the little heap of white stones that the sergeant had placed on top for luck. Picks and shovels were soon busy, busier even than when they had first dug the grave, for they had originally made that grave a mere four feet deep. Now they dug and shovelled down for all of ten feet, and in a square of ten feet, but neither hide nor hair did they find of this peculiar creature the Mad Goblin, who lived—or rather, died—up to every word in the note he had left behind him. It was a silent little band of men that turned their footsteps homeward that evening, and it took several times “three- fingers” to put Inspector Kerry and Sergeant Dalgleish into any frame of mind for sleep- ing. As it was, the sergeant spent hours on his reports which were to go out with the Inspector in the morning. “That’s a fine report, Colin,” said Kerry at the breakfast table, as he read what Dal- gleish had had to say to Headquarters about the Mad Goblin episode, “but ye don’t mean to tell me you are stopping with it there. Why don’t you finish the thing— ee The Provincial Police Are Busy Night and Day Protecting Lives and Property of the Citizens—The Advertisements in The Shoulder Strap Are Also Working All the Time—Advertise in the Official Police Publication. : é WINTER EDITION HANSON LUMBER & TIMBER CoO. LTD. Manufacturers of Poles, Piling, Posts and Boom Sticks r Smithers, B. C. SMITHERS BAKERY BREAD PIES CAKES and All Kinds of Pastries e Smithers, B.C. THE McRAE HOUSE A Nice Place to Stay A Good Place to Eat Smithers, British Columbia STEWART’S CAFE Mrs. Anna Stewart, Proprietress EXCELLENT FOOD COURTEOUS SERVICE Smithers British Columbia H. 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