By this time my teeth were clenched as if in the throes of lockjaw. Had
I paused to think for a single instant, all my nerve would have oozed
away. But I had no time to spend on thought; I had to work on, to save
Miss Falconer. The whole ghoulish business would be futile if the
inn servants found the body. The mere flight of all the guests would
certainly stir suspicion; let the murder transpire as well, and at once
we should be pursued.
The garage, from the looks of it, was not often put to service. A dusty
spot, festooned with cobwebs, it cried to the skies for brooms and mops.
In the background, apparently undisturbed since the days of the First
Empire, a great pile of straw mixed with junk of various kinds lay
against the wall; and most reluctantly, my every fiber shrieking
protest, I saw what use I might make of this debris--if I could.
"Go for it!" I told myself inexorably, but miserably. "It's not a
question of liking it, you know. You've got to do it." Grimly I wrapped
my discarded clothes about the poor chap's body, dragged it to the
straw, and covered it from head to foot.
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