american tragedy

Chapter 90 (2)
Chapter 243 (2)
He just came back from the lake.He had spent some time with them on the lake the day before.He went to the Thurstons with Sandra, Stuart, Bettina, and Nina Temple and a boy named Harry Baggot.They first set off from Lake NO.12 and drove to Sanliwan, a relatively small summer resort by the lake, about 25 miles away to the north.Then continue to drive forward, rows of tall pine trees pass by the car, and the car drives to the small lakes hidden in the depths of the pine forest to the north of Great Beitton Lake and Three Lakes.Clyde felt now that he sometimes felt very strange along the way, especially when he came to some desolate and deserted places, and those disgusting roads were narrow and washed up with water.

The car dents and twists and turns through tall, sinister pine trees—pine forests, so to speak, for miles on both sides of the road.These barely passable muddy mountain roads, swamps and pools on both sides, some places are desolate and weird.There are many poisonous wild vines beside the road, and there are rotten logs lying on the ground everywhere, like a desolate battlefield.In some places, there are four of them overlapping, and they are piled crosswise in the clay areas that have collapsed long ago and accumulated water all the year round.In this warm June weather, some frogs can sometimes be seen on the moss, kudzu vines, mossy broken branches, and rotten logs, basking lazily in the sun without fear of being disturbed at all.Ah, their eyes, their backs.Also lots of mosquitos.The car approached suddenly, and one snake disappeared in a fright, and another snake got into the garbage dumps, poisonous weeds and aquatic plants everywhere.

Clyde saw a place, and he remembered the tragedy on Pass Lake.He didn't even realize it himself.But he subconsciously noticed this desolate place, and thought of what it might be useful for.When they arrived at a place, there was a lone water bird flying from nearby to the eerie forest, screaming shrilly as it flew.As soon as Clyde heard this sound, he felt very uneasy and stood up straight in the car.Why is the sound of this strange bird so different from the sounds of birds he has heard before?

"What's this?" he asked Harry Baggett, who was sitting beside him.

"what?"

"What else could it be, isn't it the bird that just flew past?"

"I didn't hear any birds chirping."

"Ah! The bird's singing is so strange that it makes my hair stand on end."

In this desolate place, he was most impressed by the number of desolate lake districts.Never heard of one in the past.They walked hard on the muddy mountain road and found that these dense pine forests were full of lakes, only occasionally there was a small house or small hut, and if they wanted to go there, they had to pass through those remote lakes, most of which were There are no people on the shore, and even if there are, they are scattered.If you can find a hut on the other side of a lake or a hut in the far distance, they will immediately become the focus of everyone.

How could he always think of that lake district in Massachusetts? That boat! The woman's body was found, but her boyfriend's body was missing! How terrible!

It occurred to him later, after a phone call with Roberta.

The car drove a few more miles to a more open place in the northern part of the Long Lake District.The lake view to the south is blocked by something like an island.I saw the twists and turns in the distance, and I didn't know where the end was.In the distance there was a small house and a boat shed, and the rest was desolate.When they arrived there was not even a steamboat or a canoe on the lake.On this day, the rest of the Lake District is the same.The shore was full of tall green pines, like spears, with branches in every direction, like the one outside his window in Lycurgus.Farther on, south and west, on the nearer Atrondax, the green peaks humped like humps.The lake water by the mountain was blown by a gust of breeze, and the ripples glistened in the afternoon sun.The color of the water was dark blue, blackish blue, which showed that it was very deep, and this was confirmed by a wandering guide later: "Not a hundred feet from the shed is seventy feet deep."

Harry Baggot wondered if he could catch a lot of fish in the lake here, because his father wanted to come here for a few days, so he asked the guide who was ignored in the car: "Is there any fish in this lake?" How big is it?"

"About seven miles." "Any fish?" "You can try casting your hook down. You can get good fish like cod all over the place. Just behind that little island, or from that side Going around, there is a small bay to the south, which is said to be the best place for fishing in this area, and I have seen a few people catch 75 fish in two hours."

The guide was tall and thin, with a face like dry bark.He looked at the group with his small bright eyes, and said with a country bumpkin smile, "Don't want to try your luck today?"

"No, I'm just making inquiries for my father. He may be here next week, and I want to see how the place is."

"Of course it's not as good as the Raggat down there, but the fish down there are not as good as the ones here." He smiled wryly at everyone.

Clyde had never seen anyone like him, and this wild and strange place compared with the almost only city he knew, compared with the Cranston house and other places, and the very fashionable material life with which he had come into contact, On the contrary, it can arouse his great interest.Compared with Lycurgus, which is less than a hundred miles to the south, this place looks so deserted.

"It's a horrible place," sighed Stuart Finchley. "It's so close to Indian Hill Pier, but it's so different. It doesn't seem to be inhabited at all."

"That's right, except for a few tents in summer and a few people who come to hunt Linlu in autumn, after September [-]st, there are no people in this area," the guide said, "except for some places below, especially in summer. The Lake District area around Indian Hill Wharf is getting more and more crowded, nothing else has changed. If you want to go off the main road and feel your way, you must first find out the situation in this area, although there is a railroad five miles west of here, and the station is just a few miles away. In Kenlownay, where we take people in by bus in the summer. There's a rough railroad down there that goes all the way south to Grace Lake and Three Mile Bay. You've got to walk that way , because there is only one road to go through. For a while, it was said that a road was going to be opened across the long lake, but it still thundered and did not rain. If you want to come from that side to this side, there is no road in between. There are no open roads, just deserted trails, and not even a good tent. You have to bring these things yourself. Last summer, Bert Ellis and I went to Ken Lake, which is thirty miles to the west. You have to walk step by step to the place, and you have to carry heavy luggage. But, listen to me, there are fish and deer there, and you can see it clearly.”

Clyde still remembered that he had the same impression of it as everyone else, but how fascinating it was, at least no other place was more mysterious than that area, and all of this was very close to Lycurgus, the highway Less than a hundred miles.Later he also found out that the railway was only seventy miles long.

Now, however, he was back in Lycurgus, and after explaining something to Roberta, he went back to his room.He saw the newspaper on the table that published the Pass Lake tragedy, so he couldn't help reading this paragraph from beginning to end. Looking at these suggestive and provocative words, he was very nervous and panicked, but he Still read it.The dead couple, when they rented a boat, weren't they very calm and normal? They rented a boat and then rowed, which is also very normal.Then they rowed north and the man was gone.Then, there was only the overturned boat, the oars and the hat floating on the shore.There he stood, reading in the evening sun, the black fir-tree branches outside the window.The day before, he thought of those pine trees, but now, the pine tree outside the window reminded him of those by the Dabei Lake.

But what was he thinking? He, Clyde Griffiths! He was Samuel Griffiths' nephew! What was going on in his head? Killing! That was it.This dreadful news, this tragic scene was always before his eyes! The crime was terrible.If caught, he would go to the electric chair! Anyway, he will never kill, never kill Roberta.The two of them had another relationship in the past, and they must never do this.But... what about Sandra... now he's going to lose her for sure... unless he has a good way...

His hands trembled, his eyelids blinked, and then his hair stood on end, and he shivered in panic.Kill people, or capsize the boat in the deep lake.Of course, that kind of thing couldn't happen anywhere, and it was an accident, like on Pass Lake, and Roberta couldn't swim, he knew that, but she might be able to save herself in another way. Like screaming, clutching at the hull, if anyone overheard...and she said it afterward! He broke out in a cold sweat, his lips trembled, and his throat suddenly felt extremely dry.If things like that don't happen, he has to... no... that's not the kind of man he is, he can't do murder—hit Roberta when she's sinking... Berta.No, no, absolutely not.

He picked up the straw hat and hurried out, for fear that others would "hear" what he was thinking.From now on, he must not, must not think of it again.He wasn't like that, but...but what could he think of? Staying here, marrying Sandra, and ditching Roberta, all with a little courage, how could that work?

He kept walking, getting further and further away from Lycurgus.He walked southeast along a road, passing through a very desolate place.In this kind of place, he can think alone, or according to his own words: when thinking, others can't "hear".

It was getting dark, and the houses here and there began to cast lights, and the trees began to blur, and the fields and roadsides were less and less visible, and some trees had disappeared in the smoke.Although the weather was very stuffy, he walked fast, sweating while thinking, and he hoped that by walking and thinking, he could get rid of the self that refused to leave and insisted on going on, or divert his thinking.

Spooky, silent Lake District!

The southern island!

Who can see it?

Who can hear it?

Ken Lornay train station in this season! (he remembers even that, damn) still thinking about it with this horrible thought, horrible! He knows if he wants to think about it or never .But Sandra! Roberta! How unlucky he would be if he was caught... electrocuted! Such a disaster! He might lose Sandra.However, to kill...

He wiped his face, stopped, and stared at a cluster of trees in a field.The trees always reminded him of other trees... all over... oh, he didn't like the road.It's too dark, he'd better turn around.But the south road to Three Mile Bay and Grace Lake...if that was the way...to Sharon, to Cranston's house, he could go there afterwards.My God! Great Biton Lake...the trees there are as eerie and blurry as they are here after dark.Of course it would have to wait until dusk, no one would be in the...beautiful morning...in broad daylight, unless they were idiots.But, hate it, he doesn't listen to those thoughts anymore.However, no one should see him and Roberta. Will there... be seen? There are many reasons to go to Great Berton... Presumably it is a wedding trip... Is it okay... For example, on the fourth day, Or after the next day, fewer people register with pseudonyms, so that... they can stay out of the matter.Afterwards, in the dead of night, or early the next morning, back to Sharon, to Cranston's house, absolutely no problem.He got there by the ten o'clock train, so to speak.Then……

Damn it, why does it keep on forgetting? Did he really intend to do it? But he couldn't do it! He, Clyde Griffiths, would never do such a vicious thing.

Every time he thought of this vicious thought, he was terrified.Feeling miserable and useless, he decided to return to Lycurgos by the same road.There, at least he can be with people.

(End of this chapter)