Flynn’s Weekly Detective Fiction. Vol. 27, No. 1, September 17, 1927

Presently Cal’s glance shifted, seemed to rove over the crowd, then came to rest at a point directly across the circle from him. Immediately, Murdock dropped back behind the crowd, and when next Cal saw him he was standing across the circle, near the point his glance had indicated. Thereupon the inspector resumed.

“This newcomer,” he went on to say, “had not been here long before he heard talk concerning Splinter Hughes; his rather miserly habits, and the reputed storing up of his earnings in his cabin. That sort of talk interested him, because money was the one thing he cared most for in life. He needed it. Finally, after much thought, he determined to look into things at Splinter’s cabin.

“Whether he intended to kill the old man last Monday night I cannot say. I know, though, that he set out for Marked Tree, timing his departure so as to reach needed it. Finally he determined to look into things at Splinter’s cabin.

“Hughes, knowing him slightly, invited him to come in and eat, and he did so. After supper, possibly before the meal, the murderer managed to get an invitation to remain overnight, and continue his journey in the morning — not a difficult thing to do, as all you swamp men know. A fellow living alone, as Hughes did, is only too glad to have company of his own kind.

“The killer accepted, and he and Hughes went down to the creek and brought up his dunnage; his blankets, rifle, ax, and the like. Possibly he went alone, but whether he did or not is immaterial. What is material is the fact that he did have his dunnage in the cabin at the time of the killing — especially his ax.

“During the time he had been in the cabin the killer managed to satisfy himself that Hughes really kept money there. Probably started talking about the insecurity of banks, which would, of course, lead Splinter into a discourse on his favorite topic: Distrust he entertained toward banks.

“The opportunity to slay the old man came when he sat down, filled his pipe and leaned over to get a coal from the fire. When he did that, the murderer snatched up his ax, which stood near at hand, and slew him with one stroke.

“A hound, belonging to Hughes, was in the cabin. At sight of the violence done his master, the hound attacked, only to be slain in his turn.

“Having committed the deed, the next thing was to gather the fruit of it. The killer tossed his ax aside, and began a feverish, hasty search of the premises. Just where the money was hidden I am unable to say, but I do know that it was discovered before the searcher reached that part of the cabin devoted to sleeping quarters.

“An empty tomato can, standing on the table, showing signs of having been cleaned thoroughly, leads me to believe that Splinter kept his roll of bills in it; probably he kept it on a shelf of the cupboard among other cans. Where the money was, however, does not matter. The killer got it. Having got it, he hurried away and set out for Marked Tree.

“In his haste to leave the scene of the crime, he made a fatal error,” Cal went on. “He forgot the ax with which he had done the deed. That ax, when queried, told its owner’s name as plainly as though it spoke it in words.”

He paused, surveying the crowd, which hung breathless upon his words.

“All of you men know what a splitting edge is,” Cal continued. “This killer’s ax had one splitting edge and one chopping edge. When I observed that, I asked myself this question: Who would have need of an ax ground in such a manner, here in the swamp? There is not, at this season, any bolt or tie cutting going on here. Besides, one who made a business of cutting bolts and ties would have both blades of his ax ground to a splitting edge. After thinking that over, I came to this conclusion:

“The owner of that ax was doing a bit of farming; fencing a small patch of ground with rails. He would have need of only a few rails, and he was engaged in splitting them when he had leisure from other tasks. Hence he ground one blade of his ax for splitting, and the other for chopping.

“Now, where should I look for a man who was doing a bit of farming? Not in the low grounds, certainly. Where, then? Why on a bit of ridge land, of course. You swampers who live in the flood area never split rails, because the first rise would wash them away. If you have need of a corral you cut poles and fasten them to trees, so they will not float off.

“A man on a ridge, desiring to fence permanently and securely against hogs and stock, could safely do so with split rails. That narrowed the field of search. There is only one ridge within twenty miles of here — Hogback Ridge. All of you know the place.

“My man, then, lived on Hogback Ridge, was doing a bit of fencing at odd times. That much seemed certain. Last night I went to Hogback, and found the place I sought. Before I went, though, I examined the contents of the boats at anchor at Splinter’s landing. In only one of them did I fail to find an ax. But the owner of that boat had no tom place in his trousers, as the murderer must have had, since the hound, when he attacked, tore a bit of cloth with his teeth. The man I suspected had no such torn place in his trousers.

“Then I thought of his coat. It was rolled, and in his boat. I examined the coat, men — and found what I sought. The hound had torn a bit of cloth from the coat—”