to the conclusion that it was acci-
dental and that the two old men had
been sound asleep upstairs and had
no warning.

“There was an inquest,” went on
McCluskey, “and the bodies were
identified, and there was the usual
verdict, overheated flue, accidental
death, no blame, etc. The remains of
the two victims were to be shipped to
Vancouver for burial.

“The two sergeants left on another
job just after the inquest, but one of
them told me to be sure and see that
the boxes caught the train.”

Mac chuckled again.

“I was sure going to carry out all
instructions to the letter,’ continued
the Corporal, “but as the next train
didn’t pass through Soda Springs for
14 hours, I thought I would pass the
time—rookie like—in going over the
scene of the fire. I guess I thought I
would be better prepared for the next
fire.

“So I took a walk down to where
the fire had been, and poked around
among the blackened remains, study-
ing this and that. Not thinking, I
pushed over an old pail with the toe
of my boot—and made a discovery.
There seemed to be some white beans,
and when I stooped down and ex-
amined them I saw they were false
teeth. There was half-a-dozen of ’em,
fairly well together. The plate must
have melted. As I picked them up, I
began to figure in my mind that false
teeth aré either in a man’s mouth or
near him when he goes to bed. And
it suddenly dawned upon me that the
bedroom, judging by where the bed-
stead had come through the ceiling,
was at the other end of the building.
I started to figure the thing more
closely; near where I found the teeth
was a row of burst and blackened
cans, which showed where the shelv-
ing in the store had been. The owner
of the teeth must have been in the
store when he was overcome by the
fire. But then again that was crazy,
because he could have gotten out.”

The Rookie’s Suspicions

Mac paused to roll and light an-
other cigarette.

“Boy, my mind was in a whirl. And
then it struck me. This guy could have
been dead before the fire started. And
then I threw that aside when I remem-
bered that the remains had been
found together under what had been
the bedroom. And if there had been
any signs of foul play the investiga-
tors would have found it. So I con-
cluded that maybe one of the old guys
had left his false teeth on the counter
before he went to bed.

“But you know,” continued Mac, “‘I
couldn’t help feeling that there was
something screwy about those teeth.
Another thing that seemed funny to

TWENTY-SECOND EDITION

me was that the old men were sup-
posed to have a big black dog that
they were very fond of. None of us
had seen any trace of him, and if he
hadn’t been burned in the fire why
wasn’t he around the scene? Nobody
ever saw hide nor hair of him again.

“Well,” said Mac, “time went on,
and about two years later I found
myself stationed at Kelso, away up the
line in the cattle country. About a
month after I got there, I got a phone
call one night from a rancher who
lived about 20 miles out of town. He
was pretty excited. “You’d better come
out here right away,” he said, ‘‘we’re
in terrible danger.” I could tell the
guy’s scared stiff, so I got out there
in fast time.

Murder by Night

“It was about midnight when I
reached the ranch, cloudy and no
moon, and blacker’n the inside of a
wolf. I drive up the last fifty yards to
the house, just where the road takes a
curve through a windbreak of poplar,
and there, bang in front of my head-
lights, is a man lying stretched out
across the road, face down. I stop the
car and go over to him in the light of
the headlamps. I think I begin to get
the drift; this is just a drunken party
and one of the guests has passed out
on the trail. When I get to him I
turn him over. Drunk nothin,’ the
guy’s dead! There’s a hole in his head
and a gun beside him!

“Well, it’s just a few steps to the
house, and funny enough it’s in total
darkness. Using my flash I get to the
front door and start pounding. After a
while there’s a glimmer of light in-
side, and an old fellow comes to the
door and opens it a crack.

“It was kinda creepy,” went on Mc-
Cluskey, “to hear those shuffling feet
and then see this startled, withered-
looking face in the light of a coal oil
lamp. The old man was shaking with
fright, but when he saw the uniform
he kind of calmed down.

“He beckoned me in, and closed
the door. Then he led the way into
a front room, where he set the lamp
on a table. First thing I saw in the
room was an old lady with white hair
sitting on a horsehair sofa. But that’s
not all! Not by a damn sight!

“Sitting on the floor with her head
against the old lady’s knees is a young,
good-looking woman. And she’s dead!
The old lady is moaning sort of quiet-
ly to herself and all the time stroking
the dead woman’s hair.”

“Well, I could see there was a bunch
of explaining to be done,” went on
McCluskey grimly, “and after I ques-
tioned the old couple, I got this story:
Apparently the son-in-law was a
cultus sort of character, who had been
drinking and hell-raising around the
district for days. He had come into

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