The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, April 2, 1905, Page 2

objects of interest with the reeking amber of his pipe. ¥ ““This case grows upon me, Watson," said he. “There are decidedly some points of interest in conpection with it. In this early stage, I want you to real- ize those geographical features which mey have a good deal to do with our investigation. “Look at this map. The dark square is the priory school. I'll put & pin in it. Now, this line is the main road. You sce that it runs east and west past the hool, and you see also that there is , side road for a mile either way. If these two folk passed away by road, it was this road.” “Exactly.” “By a singular and happy chance we are able to seme extent to check what passed along this road during the night in question. At this point, where my pipe is now resting, a county con- stable was on duty for 12 to 6. It is, you perceive, the first crossroad on the east side. This man declares that he was not absent from his post for an instant, and he is positive that neither nor man could have gone that unseen. I have spoken with this policeman to-night and he appears to me to be a perfectly reliable person. That blocks this end. We have now to Geal with the other. There i§ an.inn bere, the Red Bull, the landlady of which was {ll. She had sent to Mack- ieton for a doctor, but he did not ar- e until morning, being absent at another case. The people at the inn were alert all night, awaiting his com- nd one cr other of them seems continually had an eye upon the road. They declare that no one passed. If their evidence is good, then we are fortunate enough to be able to block the west and also to be able to say that the fugitives did not use the road at all.” “But the bicycle?” I objected. “Quite s0. We will come io the bi- cycle presently. To continue our rea- soning—if these people did not go by road they must have traversed the untry to the north of the house or to the south of the house. That is cer- tain. Let ys weigh the one against the ot On the south of the house is, as a large district of arable land into small fields, ween them. There, le is impossible. can dism:ss the idea. We turn to e country on the north. Here there < grove of trees, marked as the Ragged Shaw,” and on the farther side stretches a great rolling moor, Lower 11 Moor, extending for ten miles and upward. Here, at derness is Holder- Hall, ten miles by road, but only cross the mo It is a peculiarly desolate plain. A few moor farmers have small holdings, where they rear sheep and cattle. Except these, the plover and the curlew are the only in- habitants until you come to the Ches- you perceive, cut u with stone walls I ad W mit that a & oping gradusa! | one side of ths eld high road. There is a church re, a few cottages and an inn. Be- nd that the Lills become precipitous. Surely it is here to the north that our est must lie.” “But the bicycle?” I persisted. “Well, well,’; said Holmes, impa- tzently. A good cyclist does not need oad. The moor is intérsected igh 7 paths, and the moon at the full. loa! what is this?” There was an agitated knock at the ijoor and an instant afterward Dr. Huxtable was in the room. In his hand he held a blue cricket cap, with a white chevron on the pea “At Jast we have a clew!” he ecried. nk heaven! at last we are on the r boy’s track! It is his cap.” ‘Where was found ?” &y - “In the van of the gypsies who camped on the moor. They left on Tuesday. To-day the police traced them down and examined their cara- van. This was found.” “How do they account for it?” “They shuffied and lied—said that they found it on the moor om Tuesday morning. They know where he is, the hascals! Thank goodness, they are ali safe wunder lock and Kkey. Bither the fear of the law or the Duke'’s purse will certainly get out of them all that they know.” “So far, so good,” said Holmes, when the doctor had at last left the room. “It at least bears out the theory that it is on the side of the Lower Gill Moor that we must hope for results. The police have really done nothing locally, save the arrest of these gypsies. Look here, Watson. There is a watercourse across the moor. You see it marked here in the map. In some parts ft widens into a morass. This is partie- ularly so in the region between Holder- nesse Hall and the school. It is vain to look elsewhere for tracks in this dry weather, but at that point there is cer- tainly a chance of some record being left. I will call you early to-morrow morning and you and I will try if we can throw some little light upon the mystery.” The day was just breaking when I woke to find the long, thin form of Holmes by my bedside. He was fully dressed and had apparently already been out. “I have done the lawn and the bicy- cle shed,” said he. “I have also had a rambie through the Ragged Shaw. Now, Watson, there Is cocoa ready in the next room. I must beg you to hur- ry, for we have a great day before us.” His eves shone and his cheek was flushed with the exhnaration of the master workman who sees his work lie ready before him. A very different Holmes, this active, alert man, form the introspective and pallid dreamer of Baker street. I felt, as I looked upon that supple figure, alive with nervous energy, that it was indeed a strenuous day that awaited us. And yet it opened in the blackest dis- appointment. With high hopes, we struck across the peaty, russet moor, intersected with a thousand sheep paths, until we came to the broad, light green belt which marked the mo- rass between us and Holdernesse. Cer- tainly, if the lad had gone homeward, he must have passed this, and he could not pass it without leaving his traces. But no sign of him or the German could be seen. With a darkening face my friend strode along the margin, eagerly observant of every muddy stain upon the mossy surface. Sheep marks there were in profusion, and at one place, some miles down, cows had left their tracks. Nothing more. “Check number one,” said Holmes, looking gloomily over the rolling ex- panse of the moor. “There is anpther morass down yonder and a narrow neck between. Halloa, halloa, halloa! what have we here?” ‘We had come on a small black rib- bon of pathway. In the middle of it, clearly marked on the sodden soil, was the track of a bicycle. “Hurrah!” I cried, “We have it.” But Holmes was shaking his head and his face was puzzled and expect- RS Puatne ant rather than joyous. “A bicycle, certainly, but not the bi- cycle,” said he. “I am familiar with forty-two different impressions left by tires. This, as you percelve, is a Dun- lop, with a patch upon the outer cover. Heldegger's tires were Palmer’s, leav- ing longitudinal stripes. A veiling, the mathematical master, was sure upon the point. Therefore, it is‘not Heideg- ger's track.” 8 ““The boy's, then?” “Posgibly,, if. we could prove a bicycle to have been in his possession. But thiz we have utterly failed to do. This track, as you perceive, was made by a rider who was going from the direction of the school.” “Or toward 1t?” “No, ho, my ‘' dear Watson. : The déeply sunk impression - -is, course the hind wheel, “up- which the weight rests, several places where it has passed across and obliterated the’ more shallow mark of the front one. It was undoubtedly heading away from the school.” It may or may not be con- negted with our ‘Inquiry,” but we will follow it backward before we go any farther.” We did so, and at the end of a few hundred yards lost the tracks as we eme: d from the boggy portion of the moor. Following the path backward we picked out another: spot, where a spring trickled across it. Here once again was .the mark of the icycle, though nearly obliterated by the hoofs of cows. Aftér that there was no sign, but the path ran right on into Ragged Shaw, the wood which backed on to the school. From this wood the cycle niust hate émerged.” Holmes sat down on a boulder and rested his chin in his hands. ‘1 had smoked two cigarettes before he moved. “Well, well,”” said he at last. . “It is, of course, possible that a cunning man might-.change the tire.of his bicycle in order to leave unfamiliar tracks. A eriminal who was capable of such a thought is a man. whom I should be proud to do busipess with. We will leave this question undecided and hark back to our morass again, for we have left a good deal unexplored.” % We continued our systematic survey of the edge of the sodden portion of the moor, and soon our perseverance was gloriously rewarded. Right across the lower part of the bog lay a miry path. Holmes gave a cry of delight as he approached it.- An impression like a fine bundle of telegraph wires ran down the cemter of it. It was the Pal- mer _tire. . “Here is . Herr Heidegger sure enough!” cried Holmes, exultantly. “My reasoning seems to have been pretty sound, Watson.” “I congratulate you.” “But we have a long way stiil to go. Kindly walk clear of the: path. Now let us follow the trail. I fear that it will not lead very far.” We found, however, as we advanced, that this portion of ‘the moor is inter- sected with soft patches and, though we frequently lost sight of the track, we always succeeded in picking it up once more. "o yon Shaerve,” .wuid Holuss, “that the rider is now undoubtedly forcing the pace? There can be no doubt of it. Look at this impression, where you get both tires clear. The one is as deep as the other. That can only mean that the rider is throwing his weight on to the handle-bar as a man does when he is sprinting. By Jove! he has hed a fall.” There was a broad, irregular smudge covering some yards of the track. Then there were a few footmarks and the tire reappeared once more, “A side-slip,” 1 suggested. Holmes held up a crumpled branch of flowering gorse. To my horfor I perceived that the yellow blossoms were all dabbled with c¢rimson. ©On the path, too, and among the heather were dark stains of clotted blood. “Bad!” said Holmes. “Bad! clear, Watson! Not an unnecessary footstep! What do I read here? A He fell wounded—he stood “up—he Tre- mounted—he proceeded. But -there is no other track. Cattle on this' side path. He was surely not gored by a bull? Impossible! Bul Isee no traces of any one eise. We must push on, Watson. Surely with stains as’well ag the track to guide us he cannot escape us now.” Our search was not a very long one. The tracks of the tire began to curve fantastically upon the wet and shining path. Suddenly as I looked ahead the gleam of metal caught my eye from amid the thick gorse-bushes, Out of them we dragged a bicycle, Palmer- tired, one pedal bent, and the whole front of it horribly smeared and slob- bered with blood. On the other side of the bushes a shoe was projecting. We ran around, and there lay the un- fortunate rider. He was a tall man, full-bearded, with spectacles, one glass of which had been knocked .gut. The cause of his death was a frightful blow upon the head, which had crushed in part of his skull. That he could have gone on after receiving such an injury said much for the vitality and courige of the man. He wore shoes, but no socks, and his open coat disclosed a night-shir: beneath it. It was undoubt- edly the German master. Holmes turned the body over rever- ently, and examined it with great at- tention. He then sat in deep thought for a time, and I could see by his ruf- fied brow that this grim discovery had not, in his opinion, advanced us much in our inquiry. W “It is a little difficult to' know what to do, Watson,” said he, at last. “My own inclinations are to push this in- quiry on, for we have.already lost so much time that we cannot -afford to waste another hour. On the other hand, we are bound to inform the po- lice of the discovery, and to see that this poor fellow’s body is looked after.” “I could take a note back.” “But I need your company and a®- sistance. Wait a bit! There is a fel- low cutting peat up yonder. Bring him lo‘ver here, and he will guide the po- ce.” I brought the peasant across, and Holmes dispatched the frightened man with a note to Dr. Huxtable. “Now, Watson,” said he, “we have picked up two clues this morning. One is the bicycle with the Palmer tire, and we see what that has led to. The other is the bicycle with the patched Dunlop. Before we start to investigate that, let us try to realize what we do know, so as to make the most of it, and to separate the essential from the acci- dental.” 5 “First of all, I wish to impress upon you that the boy certainly left of his own free-will. He got down from his window and he went off, either alone or with someone. That is sure.” I assented. “Well, now, let us turn to this un- fortunate German master. The boy was fully dressed when he fled. There- Stand . THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL. fore, he foresaw what he would do. But strange, Watson, eh?” “Yes, it is strange.” the German went without his socks. He certainly acted on very short no- tice.” “Undoubtedly.” “Why did he go? Because, from his bedroom window, he saw the flight of_ the boy; because he wished to overtake him and bring him back.. He sejzed his bicycle, pursued the lad, and in pursu- jng him met his death.” “Now, he crumbs “So it would seem.” . L Ngad “Now I come to the critical part of . - - my argument. The natural action of a that?” man in pursuing a little boy would be to run after him. He would know that he ¢ould overtake him. But the Ger- man_does not do so. He turns to his bicyele. I am told that he was an ex- cellent cyclist. He would not do this if he did not see that the boy had some swift means of escape.” “The other: bicycle.” “Let us continue our reconstruction. He meets his death five miles from the school—not by a bullet, mark you, which even a lad might conceivably discharge, but by a savage blow dealt by a vigorous arm. The lad, then, had a companion in his flight. And the flight was a swift one, since it took five mijles before an expert cyclist could overtake them. Yet we survey the ground round ° the- scene of the tragedy. What do’ we find? A few cattle tracks, nothin, more. I took a wide sweep round, an there is no path within fifty yards. An* other cyelist could have had nothing to do with’the actual murder, nor were there any*human footmarks.” 3 “Holmes,” I cried, “this is impossi- However, conclusion smithy: There unkempt “old shoes, ble. “Admirable!” he said. . “A most illu- minating remark. It is impossible as I state it,.and therefore I must in some respect have stated it wrong._ Yet you saw for yourself. Can you suggest any fallacy?” S “He could not have fractured his sKull ih & fall?” A ocd “In a morass, Watson?” “I am at my wits’ end.” A “Tut, tut, we have solved some worse problems. At least we have plenty of muterial, if we can only use it.. Came, then, and having exhaugted the Pal- mer, let us see what the*Dunlop with the patched cover has to offer us.” ‘We picked up the track and followed it onward for some distance, but’soon the moor rose into. a long, heather- tufted curve and we left the water- course behind us. No further help from tracks could be hoped for. At the spot where we saw the last of the Dunlop tire it might equally have led to Hold- ernesse. Hall, the stately towers of swhich roge some miles to our left, or to a‘low, gray village which lay in front ‘of us, and marked the position of the Chesterfield high road.. As e approached the forbidding and squalid inn, with the sign of a game- cock above the door, Holmes gave a sudden groan and clutched me by the shoulder to save himself from falling. #He had had one of those violent strains of the ankle which leave a man help- less. With difficulty he limped up to sion. pleased.” ¥ belfeve.” gates. We did ‘Watson, throw your mind back. those tracks upon the path?” “Yes, I can.” “Can you recall that the tracks were something like that, Watson”— of bread arranged a number in this fashion- “and something llke this”— . ' . "Can you rem_e:\nber , I cannot.” . But I can. we will leisure and verify it. beetle. I h;',."e been not to draw my *‘And what is your conclusion?” “Only that'it is a remarkable cow which walks, canters and gallops. By George! Watson, it was no brain of a country publican that thought out such a blind as that. to be clear, save for that lad in the Let us slip out and see what we can see.” were horses down_stable. leg of one of them and I shoés, but newly shod—old but new nails: serves to be a classic. Let us go across to the smithy.” The lad continued his work without regarding us. I saw Holmes' eye dart- ing to right and left among the litter of iron and wood which was scattered about the floor. - Suddeniy, however, we heard a step behind us, and there was the landlord, his heavy eyebrows drawn down over hig savage eyes, his swarthy features convulsed with pas- He held a short, metal-headed stick in his hand, and he advanced in €0 menacing & fashion that I was glad to fee] the revolver th “You infernal sples!” the man cried. s “What are you doing thére?" “Why, Reuben Hayes,” said Holmes coolly, ‘“‘one might think that you were afraid of our finding.-something out.” The man mastered himself with a violent effort and his loosened Into a false laugh, which was more menacing than his frown. “You're welcome to all you can find in. my smithy,” here, -mister, I don't care far folk pok- ing about my place without my leave, s0 the sooner you pay your score and get out of this the better I shall “All right, Mr. meant,” said Holmes. having a look at your horses, but I think I'll walk' after all. c “Not more than two miles to the Hall That's ' the road ¢c the left.” He watched us with sullea eyes- until we had left his. premises. not go very far along the road, for Holmes stopped the instant that the curve hid us from the land- lord’s view. that den at this hour of night, and who is the companion who comes to meet him there? Come, Watson, we must really take a risk, and try to in- vestigate this a little more closely.” Together we stole down to the road and crept across to the door of the inn. The bicycle still leaned against the wall. Holmes struck a match and held it to the back wheel, and I heard him chuckle as the light fell upon a patched Dunlop tire. Up above us was the lighted window. “1 must have a peep through that, ‘Watson. If you bend your back and support yourself upon the wall, I think that I can manage.” An instant later, his feet were on my shoulders, but he was hardly up be- fore he-was down again. “Come, my friend,” said he, “our day’'s work has been quite long enough. I think that we have gathered all that we can. It's a long walk te the school, and the sooner we get started the bet- ter.” He hardly opened his lips during that weary trudge across the moor, nor would he enter the school. when he reached 'it, but went on to Mackleton Station, whence he could send some telegrams. Late at night I heard him consoling Dr. Huxtable, prostrated by the tragedy of his master’s death, and later still he entered my room as alert and vigorous as he had been when he started in the morning. “All goes well, my friend,” said he. “I promise that before -to-morrow evening we shall have reached the solution of the mys- tery.” At 11 v'clock next morning my friend and I were walking up the famous yew avenue of Holdernesse Hall. We were ushered through the magnificent Eliza- bethan doorway and into his Grace's stidy. There we found Mr. James ‘Wilder, demure and courtly, but with some trace of that wild terror. of the night” beéfore still lurking in his fur- tive eyes and in his twitching features. “You have come to see his Grace? I am sorry, but the fact is that the Duyke is far from well. He has been very much upset by the tragic news. ‘We.recelved a telegram from Dr. Hpx- table yesterday afternoom, which told us 'of ybur discovery.” “I must see the Duke, Mr. Wilder.” “But he is in his room.’ “Then. I must go to his room.” “I belleve he is in his bed.” “I will see him there.” Holmes’ cold and inexorable manner showed ‘the secretary that it was use- less to argue with him. “Very good, Mr. Holmes, I will tell him that you are here.” After/an hour’s delay, the great no- bleman’appeared. His face was more cadaverous than ever, his shoulders had rotunded, and he seemed to me to be an altogether older man than he had been the morning before. He greeted us with a stately courtesy and seated ‘himself at his desk, his. red beard streaming down on the table. “We were warm, as the children say, at that inn,” said he. “I seem to grow colder every step that I take away make an effort, from it. No, no, I can't possibly leave it.” Can you see “I am convinced,” said I, “that this Reuben Hayes knows all about it. % more self-evident villain I never saw. “Oh! he impressed you in that way, did he? There are the horses, there is the smithy. Yes, it is an interesting place, this Fighting Cock. I think we -shall have another look at it in an un- ebtrusive way.” A long, sloping hillside, dotted with gray limestone boulders, stretched be- hind us. We had turned off the road and were making our way up the hill, when, looking in the direction of Hold- ernesse Hall, I saw a cyclist coming swiftly along. “Get down, Watson!"” cried Holmes, with a heavy hand upon my shoulder. We had-hafdly sunk from view when the -man flew past us on the road. Amid a rolling cloud of dust, I caught a glimpse of a pale, agitated face— a face with horror in every lineament, the mouth open, the eyes staring wild- ly in front.. It was like some strdnge caricature of the dapper James Wilder whom we had seen the night before. “The ' Duke's ' secretary!™ eried Holmes. "“Come, Watson, let us see »what he ‘does.” : ‘We scrambled from rock to rock, un- til in' a few moments we had made our way te a point from which we could see the fronf door of the inn. “Wilder's ‘bieycle Y“ leaning against the wall beside if. No one was mov- ing about the house mnor could we catch a glimpse «of any facés at the windows, Slowly the twilight crept down as the sun sank behind the high towers of Haldernesse Hall. Then, tn the gloom, we saw the two side- lamps of 4 trap light up tn the stable- yard of the inn, and shortly afterward heard the rattle of hoofs-as it wheeled out into the road and tore off at a fu- rious pace in the direction of Chester- field g “What do you make of that, Wat- son?” Holmes whispered. “It looks like a flight.” “A single man in a dogcart, so far as I could see. Well, it certainly was not Mr. James Wilder, for there he is at the door.” E A red square of light had sprung but of the darkness. In.the middle of it was'the black figure of the sec- retary, his head advanced, peering out into the night. It was evident that he wag expecting some one. Then at last thete were steps in the road, a second figure was visible for an in- stant agalinst the light, the door shut and all was black once more. Five minutes later a: lamp was lit:in a room uvon the first floor. % “It seems to be a curious'class of custom that is done by the Fighting Cock,” said Holmes. “The bar is on the other side.” “Quite so. These are.what one may call private guests. Now, what in the world is Mr. James Wilder doing in occaslonally like 'fl"lll"-—: I could swear to it. go “back at our ‘What a blind The coast seems rough-haired, ‘the tumble- d the hind ghed aloud. twb in Hoplmes rai: This case de- right my potket. grim mouth said he. “But look be Hayes, no harm “We have. been Tt's mot far (Continued at Bottom of Page 5.) the door, where a squat, dark, elderly man was smoking a black clay pipe. “How are you, Mr. Reuben Hayes?" said Holmes. ¢ “Who are you, md‘ how do you get my name so pat?” the eolntryman’an- swered, with a suspicious flash of a pair of cunning eyes. ““Well, it's printed on the board above your head. It's easy to see a man who is master of his own house. I suppise you haven’'t such a thing as a carrlage ground.” 3 “Don’t put it to the ground.” ~ “But 1 can’t walk.” “Well then, -hop.” Mr. Reuben Hayes’ manner was far from gracious, but Holmes took it with admirable good humor. “Look hers, my man,” said he. “This’ is really rather an awkward fix for me. 1 don’t mind how I get on.” “Neither do 1,” sald the morose land- lord. IR “The matter is very important. 1 would offer you a sovereign for the use of a bicycle.” The landlord pricked up his ears. “Where do you want to go?” "“To Holdernesse Hall.” “Pals of the k; 1 suppose?” said the - landlord, ‘surveying our mud- stained garments with ironical eyes. Holmes laughed good naturedly. “He'll be glad to 'see us, anyhow."” “Because we bring him news of his lost gon.” . The landlord 'gave a very visible start. “‘What, you'te on his track?” “He has been heard of in Liverpool. They expect to get him every hour.” Again a swift change passed over the . heavy, unshaven face. His man-. ner was suddenly genial. “I'Ve less reason to wish ‘the Dook ‘well than most men,” said he, “for [ was his head coachman once, and cruel bad he treated me, It was him that sacked me without a character on the word of a lying corn chaundler. But I'm glad to hear that the young Lord heard: of in Liverpoo! and I'll help you to take the news to the hall.” ‘“Thank you,” said Holmes. have some food first. Then bring round the bicycle.” “I haven't got a bicycle.” Holmes held up a sovereign. o t;l}l ylm:, mln},‘ that I haven't got one.. I'll let -you have two horses as far as the hall.” 7 o “Well, wel),” said - Holmes, “we'll | talk about it when, we've had some- thing to eat.” ‘When we were left alone in the stone-flagged kitchen it was astonish- ing how rapidly’ that sprained ankle recovered. It was nearly nightfall -and we had eaten nothing since early. morning, so that we spent some time over our meal. Holmes was lost in thought and once or twice he walke: over to the window and stared earn- estly out. It opened on to a squalid courtyard. In the far corner was a smithy, where a grimy lad was at work. On the other side were the sta- bles. Holmes had sat down again af- ter one of these excursions, when he suddenly sprang out of his chair with a loBud haxcllmn‘t,l;n. “By heaven, Watson, I believe that T've got jt!” he crled. ‘“Yes, yes, it must be so. Watson, do you remem- ber seeing any cow tracks to-day?” “Yes, several.” “Where ?” ““Well, everywhere. They were ai th:l morass, and lgnln on the path, and again near where poor Heideg- ger met his death.” . . et “Exactly. Well, now, Watson, how many cows did you see on the moor?” | “I don’t remember seeing any® “Strange, Watson, that we should see tracks all along our line, but never a cow on the whole moor. Very in your stables?” % LA SN have not.”” ; > “Ijcan scarcely put my foot to the Wil 'q q q “we'll - Yyou can ‘Number of Collier’s. ADVERTISEMENTS. To the Readers of Sherlock Holmes The thirteen famous “Sherlock Holmes” stories now being published by the principal newspapers in the principal cities throughout the United States originally appeared in Collier’s a year ago. The right to re-publish them was acquired from Collier’s. It was Collier’s that induced Conan Doyle to write these stories. There will be no more. The next character to appear on the scene of a national interest at all comparable to ¢ Sherlock Holmes” is « Raffles,” the gentleman burg- lar, by E. W. Hornung. With him, « burgling” is a fine art that presents many fascinating problems. He is the nearest approach we are likely to have to a successor to Sherlock Holmes. The «Raffles” series is to consist of nine stories, to be published under the general title of “A Thief in the Night.” For the benefit of those who will wish to follow the adventures of * Raffles” as they appear in Collier’s, a list of the stories, with the dates of publication, is given below. The fourth of the «Raffles” series of nine stories is entitled “ The Criminologists’ Club,” and is published in the April Houschold On sale now. 4By George! ” 1 cried, in a sudden wave of enthusiast, I don’t care how you've done it, or who has helped you, it’s the biggest thing you ever did in your life! —The Criminologists' Club. “The Rest Cure” was published February 25 “The Criminologists’ Club is publshed Mch. 25 o “The Field of Phillipi” will be published April 29 The Sixth Story will be published May 27 The Eighth Story will be published July 29 The Seventh Story « « o June 24 The Ninth Story i - Aug. 28 “ Out of Paradise” was published December 10 “The Chest of Silver” was published Jan. 21" Out of the 12,000 manuscripts submitted in the great Short Story Contest, Collier’s purchased 52 in addition to the three prize stories—representing-the choice of all this material. . It scems reasonable to belisve that the best fiction for a year to come will be ¢ found in Collier’s. "The $5,000 'Prize Story will be published in the April Fiction Number. On sal: everywhere on and after April 5.