The Four Pools Mystery

st made the acquaintance of Terry Patten, and at the time

the older men, but it happened that I was the one who had drawn up the will for Patterson Senior the night before his suicide, therefore the brunt of the work devolved upon me. The most unpleasant part of the whole affair was

t-hand corner, "of the Post-Dispatch." I shuddered as I read it. The Post-Dispatch was at that time the yellowest of the y

ortably, and looked me over. I returned the scrutiny with interest while I was mentally framing a polite formula for getting

glance I commenced to feel interested. I wondered where he had come from and what he had done in the past. His features were undeniably Irish; but that which chiefly awakened my curiosity, was his expression. It was not only wide-

e was funny about my appearance. Then suddenly he leaned forward and began talking in a quick, eager way, that required all my attention to keep abreast of him. After a short preamble in which he set forth his view of the Patterson-Pratt case-and a clearsighted view it was-he commenced asking questions

y desire to keep me from getting things in a mess. The situation would have struck me as ludicrous had I stopped to thin

y. After he had gone, and I had had time to review our conversation, I began to grow hot over the matter. I grew hotter still when I read his report in the paper the next m

against him and forgave him with unvarying regularity. In the end we came to be quite friendly over the affair. I found him diverting at a time when I was in need of diversion, though just what attraction he found in me, I have never b

l, Terry, what's the news at the morgue today?" I would inquire as we settled ourselves at the table. And Terry would rattle off the

t himself, and if one half of his stories were true, he has achieved some amazing adventures. I strongly suspecte

he should develop into a star reporter. Not only did he write his news in an entertaining form, but he first made the news he wrote about. When any sensational crime had been committed which puzzled the police, Terry had an annoying way of solving the mystery himself, and publishing the full particulars in the Post-Dispatch with the glory blatantly attributed to "our reporter." The paper was fully aware that Terence K. Patten was an acquisition to its staff. It had sent him on various commissions to various entertaining quart

ystery." It has already been written up in reporter style as the details came to light from day to day. But a ten-year-old newspaper story is as dead as if it were wri

pent every day on it for nine weeks-and nearly every night. I got into the way of lying awake, puzzling over the details, when I should have been sleeping, and that

shing expedition to Cape Cod. I apathetically fell in with the idea, and invited Terry to join me. But he jeered at the notion o

spend a vacation in the m

would keep thin

ek just for some excitement. If you need a rest-and you are rather seedy-forget all about this Pa

stration he regarded as a joke. His pleasantries rather damped my interest in deep-sea fishing, however, and I cast about for something else. It was at this juncture that I though

bbit shooting) and in the exchange of amenities which followed, he had given me a standing invitation to make the plantation my home whenever I should have occasion to come South. As I had no prospec

ith enthusiasm. A farm, he said, with plenty of outdoor life and no excitement, was just the thing I needed. But could