Bob, son of Battle . CHAPTER XXIII TH OWD UN THE Black Killer still cursed the land. Sometimesthere would be a cessation in the crimes; then ashepherd, going his rounds would notice his sheep herdingtogether, packing in unaccustomed squares; a raven,gorged to the crop, would rise before him and flap wearilyaway, and he would come upon the murderers latestvictim. The Dalesmen were in despair, so utterly futile hadtheir efforts been. There was no proof; no hope, noapparent probability that the end was near. As for theTailless Tyke, the only piece of evidence against him hadflown with David, who,
Bob, son of Battle . CHAPTER XXIII TH OWD UN THE Black Killer still cursed the land. Sometimesthere would be a cessation in the crimes; then ashepherd, going his rounds would notice his sheep herdingtogether, packing in unaccustomed squares; a raven,gorged to the crop, would rise before him and flap wearilyaway, and he would come upon the murderers latestvictim. The Dalesmen were in despair, so utterly futile hadtheir efforts been. There was no proof; no hope, noapparent probability that the end was near. As for theTailless Tyke, the only piece of evidence against him hadflown with David, who, as it chanced, had divulged whathe had seen to no man. The £100 reward offered had brought no issue. Thepolice had done nothing. The Special Commissioner hadbeen equally successful. After the affair in the Scoop theKiller never ran a risk, yet never missed a chance. TH OWD UN 223 Then, as a last resource, Jim Mason made his took a holiday from his duties and disappeared into thewilderness. Three days and
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