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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..22ee845 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66627 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66627) diff --git a/old/66627-0.txt b/old/66627-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 7edfd2d..0000000 --- a/old/66627-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8459 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Cat's Paw, by Natalie Sumner -Lincoln - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Cat's Paw - -Author: Natalie Sumner Lincoln - -Release Date: October 29, 2021 [eBook #66627] - -Language: English - -Produced by: D A Alexander and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team - at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images - generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAT'S PAW *** - - - - - THE CAT'S PAW - - BY - - NATALIE SUMNER LINCOLN - - AUTHOR OF "THE RED SEAL," "THE UNSEEN EAR," - "THE TREVOR CASE," "THE MOVING FINGER," ETC. - - D. APPLETON AND COMPANY - NEW YORK :: 1922 :: LONDON - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY - D. APPLETON AND COMPANY - - Copyright, 1922, by Street and Smith - - PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - - - - -~By NATALIE SUMNER LINCOLN~ - - THE CAT'S PAW - THE UNSEEN EAR - THE THREE STRINGS - THE MOVING FINGER - THE NAMELESS MAN - THE OFFICIAL CHAPERON - THE LOST DESPATCH - THE RED SEAL - I SPY - C. O. D. - THE MAN INSIDE - THE TREVOR CASE - - - - - [Illustration: DROPPING THE CAT, SHE SPRANG TO HER FEET WITH A SLIGHT - CRY.] [page 27] - - - - - TO - EDNA LEIGHTON TYLER - THIS YARN IS AFFECTIONATELY - INSCRIBED IN TOKEN - OF A FAITHFUL FRIENDSHIP - - - - -CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - - I. KITTY! 1 - II. THE SUMMONS 6 - III. DETAILS 17 - IV. SUICIDE? 35 - V. AT THE MORGUE 52 - VI. TESTIMONY 63 - VII. MRS. PARSONS HAS CALLERS 79 - VIII. THE CASE OF THE GILA MONSTER 94 - IX. MRS. PARSONS ASKS QUESTIONS 116 - X. RUMORS 127 - XI. I. O. U. 139 - XII. A WORD OF WARNING 155 - XIII. BRIBERY 169 - XIV. AND CORRUPTION 185 - XV. BOUND IN RED TAPE 203 - XVI. A STARTLING ENCOUNTER 215 - XVII. "K. B." 223 - XVIII. ELUSIVE CLUES 239 - XIX. SUSPICION 252 - XX. THE FEET OF THE FURTIVE 260 - XXI. MOUCHETTE, THE SEVEN-TOED 270 - XXII. GREED 287 - - - - -THE CAT'S PAW - - - - -CHAPTER I - -KITTY! - - -Miss Susan Baird let her gaze rest on her companion in speculative -silence. Apparently, her last jibe had failed of its mark, judging from -the man's unchanged expression. With a vexed sigh she proceeded to pour -out another cup of tea. - -They were an oddly matched pair. Miss Baird, still erect in spite of -her seventy years, her small slight figure tucked into one corner of -the carved, throne-shaped chair which was her habitual seat when in -her library, appeared dwarfed in comparison with the broad-shouldered, -powerfully built man who faced her across the tea table. - -"So you wish to marry my niece, Kitty," she remarked. "_You!_" And she -broke into shrill laughter. - -Her companion flushed hotly. Her ridicule cut deeper than had any of -her previous comments. - -"I intend to marry her," he answered, and the stubborn determination of -his tone matched his set features. - -"So!" Miss Baird shrugged her thin shoulders. "You forget, my friend, -that until Kitty is twenty-five years of age, I am her legal guardian, -and that she is absolutely dependent upon me." - -"You give her a home and let her work that she may contribute to your -support," he retorted. - -At his words her eyes blazed in fury and her talonlike fingers fumbled -in the silver bowl for the few pieces of sugar it contained. - -"I am her only blood relation. It is fitting and proper that she aid me -in my old age," she exclaimed. "My poverty," she paused, and a certain -dignity crept into both voice and manner, "is my misfortune." - -"And Kitty," he began, but got no further. - -"We will not discuss Kitty," she announced with finality. "Wait," as he -started to interrupt her. "Such discussion is totally unnecessary, for -Kitty will never marry you." - -"Why not?" - -"For two excellent reasons." She spoke with deliberation. "Kitty shall -not marry a poor man, nor shall she marry a man with an hereditary -taint." - -The man regarded her steadfastly across the table, his strong capable -hands still holding the peach which he had been peeling. The silence -lengthened, but neither seemed inclined to break it. Suddenly, the man -laid down the peach and taking out his handkerchief, passed it across -his lips; then, still in silence, he picked up the fruit knife, cut the -peach in two and, placing the fruit in front of Miss Baird, rose and -left the library. - -In the outer hall he paused long enough to pick up his hat and gloves -from the table where he had placed them upon his arrival some time -before. He had opened the front door and was about to step outside when -it occurred to him to light a cigarette. To do so, he released his hold -on the front door. His cigarette was just commencing to draw nicely -when a current of air from an opened window across the hall blew the -door, which he had left ajar, shut with a resounding bang. - -As the noise vibrated through the silent house, the man glanced -nervously over his shoulder. Evidently, it had not disturbed Miss Baird -or the other inmates of her household, for no one appeared in the hall. -He once more started to approach the front door when he heard, through -the porti�res in front of the entrance to the library, Miss Baird's -voice raised in anger. - -"Kitty!" she called. "Kitty!" - -As the name echoed through the silent hall, it gave place to a scream -of such intensity, such horror that the man drew back aghast. It was -some minutes before he moved. With faltering footsteps he retraced his -way into the library and paused by the tea table. - -Miss Susan Baird still sat in her throne-shaped chair, but the light -fell full on her glazing eyes and distorted features. - -Slowly, reluctantly, the man bent nearer and forced himself to place -his hand upon her wrist. He could feel no pulse. When he stood erect -a moment later, his forehead was beaded with perspiration. Dazedly, -he glanced about the library--he and the dead woman were its only -occupants. - -Again he compelled himself to gaze at her, and subconsciously took -note of her poor and patched attire. The incongruity of her string of -pearls and the diamond rings upon her fingers impressed him even in the -presence of death. - -Step by step he retreated backward across the room, his glance roaming -upward toward the gallery which circled the library and the short -staircase leading to it, but always his eyes returned to that still and -lonely figure by the tea table. - -A few minutes later the faint sound of the front door being closed -disturbed a large ball of fur. A gray Angora cat jumped from its -hiding place and, with its back arched in fright, scampered through the -porti�res, and fled along the hall and up the staircase to the attic. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -THE SUMMONS - - -The broad streets of Washington City presented a lively scene as Dr. -Leonard McLean drove his car with increasing slowness down Connecticut -Avenue, crowded with government employees hastening to their offices. -The congestion was even greater than usual owing to the downpour of -rain as the drenched pedestrians swarmed around the street car stops in -their endeavor to board cars, already packed to their limit, and arrive -promptly at nine o'clock at their various destinations. - -McLean slowed down to a stop within the fifteen feet limit prescribed -by law, as the street car ahead of him halted to take on passengers, -and watched with interest the futile efforts of the conductor to -prevent the desperate rush made by both men and women to get through -the car door at the same time. Suddenly, McLean discerned a familiar -face in the crowd before him and sounded his horn. The unexpected -"honk" created confusion among those unable to find even clinging room, -and the conductor, taking advantage of the diversion, signaled to the -motorman and the car sped onward. - -"Hey, Leigh!" hailed McLean. "Leigh Wallace!" - -Major Wallace glanced around and with a wave of his hand McLean -indicated the vacant seat in his roadster. - -"Hop in!" he exclaimed, as Wallace hurried across the intervening space -between the car and the curbstone. "I'll give you a lift downtown," -and, hardly waiting for Wallace to seat himself and close the door, the -busy surgeon released the clutch and the roadster sped down Connecticut -Avenue. - -It was not until they were clear of traffic and were approaching -the intersection of Twenty-first Street and Massachusetts Avenue -that McLean realized his companion had not returned his greeting or -addressed a word to him since entering the car. Turning his head, he -eyed him unobtrusively. Wallace sat moodily staring ahead; his big -frame, slumped in the easiest posture, seemed to fill the broad seat of -the Packard. McLean took silent note of Wallace's expression and the -unhealthy pallor of his skin. - -"Get any sleep last night?" he asked. - -"Not much." Wallace drew out a leather wallet from an inside pocket -and produced a prescription. "The druggist refused to fill this again; -said I had to get another prescription. Beastly rot," he complained. -"Cost me a bad night." - -The surgeon ran his eye over the prescription before pocketing it. - -"It's a narcotic," he explained. "The druggists are not allowed to -refill. Next time you want one come to me. How long is it since you -left Walter Reed Hospital, Leigh?" - -"Two months ago," was the laconic rejoinder. Wallace removed his hat -and passed his hand over his short-clipped hair. "I hope to report for -duty soon." - -"Good!" McLean slowed down to make the turn from Twenty-first Street -into Massachusetts Avenue and as they drove westward Major Wallace for -the first time took notice of the direction in which they were heading -and that they were no longer on Connecticut Avenue. - -"Aren't you going to your office, McLean?" he inquired. - -"Not immediately. I have a professional call to make first. Are you in -a hurry?" - -The question seemed superfluous and McLean smiled as he put it. The -major's apathetic manner and relaxed figure could not be associated -with haste. - -"No," Wallace answered. "I promised to stop in and see Charles Craige -some time this morning; he's attending to some legal business for -me. Otherwise I have nothing to do. This killing time gets on my -nerves--look at that, now," and he held up a hand that was not quite -steady. "Take me on as chauffeur, McLean. I understand an engine; -shell-shock hasn't knocked that out of my head." - -"Your head's all right, old man. I told you that when you were my -patient at Walter Reed," responded McLean cheerily. "A few weeks more -and--" He stopped speaking as they crossed the Q Street bridge into -Georgetown, then, stepping on the accelerator, he raced the car up the -steeply graded street and drew up in front of a high terrace. - -"Hello, are you going to 'Rose Hill'?" demanded Wallace, wakened from -his lethargy by the stopping of the car. He had apparently been unaware -that McLean had left his last sentence unfinished. "Who is ill?" - -"I don't know." McLean leaned back to pick up his instrument bag which -he carried in the compartment behind his seat. "My servant called to me -just as I was leaving home that I had been telephoned to come over here -at once. I didn't catch all she said. I suppose Kitty Baird is ill. -That girl is a bundle of nerves." - -Wallace clambered out of the car so that his more nimble companion -would not have to climb over his long legs in getting out. As McLean -turned to close the door of his car, Wallace's hand descended heavily -upon his shoulder. - -"What--who--who's that standing in the Baird's doorway?" he gasped. "A -policeman?" - -McLean swung around and glanced up at the house. A long flight of -stone steps led up to the front door and a landing marked each break -in the terrace whereon grew rosebushes. It was the picturesque garden -which gave its name to the fine old mansion--Rose Hill. The mansion -had been built in colonial times when the surrounding land, on which -stood modern houses and the present-day streets, had been part of the -"plantation" owned by General Josiah Baird of Revolutionary fame. The -hand of progress had left the mansion perched high above the graded -street, but it had not touched its fine air of repose, nor diminished -the beauty of its classic Greek architecture. - -Standing under the fanlight over the doorway was the burly form of a -blue-coated policeman. - -"Yes, that's one of the 'City's finest,'" he laughed. "What of it?" -he added, observing his companion's agitation in astonishment. "The -policeman is probably taking the census; one called on me last -Saturday." - -Wallace swallowed hard. "That's it," he mumbled, rather than spoke. -"You've hit it." - -McLean, conscious of the bleak wind which accompanied the driving rain, -stopped to open the door of his roadster. - -"Wait in the car, Leigh; I won't be long." Not pausing to see if his -suggestion was followed, McLean hurried up the steps. - -Wallace plucked at the collar of his overcoat and opened it with -nervous fingers, mechanically closed the car door, and then with slow -reluctant feet followed McLean toward the mansion. He was breathing -heavily when he gained the surgeon's side, and the latter's surprised -exclamation at sight of him was checked by the policeman who had -advanced a few steps to meet the two men. - -"Dr. McLean?" he asked, and as the surgeon nodded, added, "Step inside, -Sir." He touched his hat respectfully. "Is this gentleman with you, -Doctor?" - -"Why, certainly." McLean glanced inquiringly at the policeman; the -latter's manner indicated suppressed excitement. "What's to pay, -Officer?" - -"They'll tell you inside," waving his hand toward the open door. "The -coroner's there." - -"Coroner!" McLean's bag nearly slipped from his hand; but before he -could question the policeman further, his name was called from the back -of the hall and he hurried inside the house. Coroner Penfield stood by -the porti�res in front of the library door. - -"I am glad you could get here so promptly, McLean," he said. "Come -in," and he drew the porti�res to one side. McLean entered the library -hastily and continued to advance with his usual brisk tread until he -caught sight of a huddled figure in the throne-shaped chair. - -"Good God!" he ejaculated and retreated a few steps. Recovering his -usual calm poise he walked around the tea table and examined the body. -When he straightened up and turned around, he found Coroner Penfield's -attention was centered on Major Leigh Wallace. - -Wallace had followed McLean across the threshold of the library only, -and stood with his back braced against the doorjamb while his eyes -mutely scrutinized every movement made by the surgeon. - -"Well?" he questioned, and McLean's stare grew intensified. If he had -not seen Wallace's lips move he would never have recognized his voice. -With difficulty Wallace enunciated his words. "Well--what--what is it?" - -"It's a case of--" - -"Sudden death." Coroner Penfield completed McLean's sentence. - -In the silence that followed, a man who had been leaning over the -railing of the gallery which circled the library, watching them, walked -over to the stairs and came slowly down. At sound of his footsteps -McLean glanced up and recognized Inspector Mitchell of the Central -Office. He bowed courteously to the surgeon before addressing the -coroner. - -"If it is all right, Dr. Penfield, we'll have the body removed," he -said. "My men are here." - -"Certainly. Call them." Penfield turned to McLean. "I wanted you to be -present as I understand you attended Miss Susan Baird." - -"Yes, I have been her family physician for years." McLean spoke with -an effort, his thoughts centered on one idea. "Where is Miss Baird's -niece, Miss Kitty Baird?" - -His question went unanswered. Apparently Coroner Penfield and Inspector -Mitchell failed to hear him as they busied themselves in superintending -the removal of the body. McLean, after watching them for some seconds, -walked over to Wallace. The latter took no notice of him whatever, his -eyes remaining always on the tea table. McLean scanned his drawn face -and listened to his labored breathing with growing concern. Whirling -around, he opened his bag, took out a flask, detached its silver cup -and poured out a liberal allowance of whisky, then, darting out of -the library, he returned an instant later with some water in a glass. -Slightly diluting the whisky, he thrust the cup against Wallace's -white lips. - -"Drink that," he ordered, and Wallace followed his peremptory command. -"Now, sit down," and he half-pushed, half-supported him to a large -leather covered lounge. - -"I--I," protested Wallace. "I'm a bit undone, McLean," and he raised -miserable, apologetic eyes to his friend. - -"Sure, it's enough to bowl any one over," McLean acknowledged, with a -sympathetic pat. "Even the strongest--" - -"Which I am not," supplemented Wallace. The powerful stimulant was -taking effect, and he spoke with more composure. "Have you--can you--" -he hesitated, and cast a sidelong glance at McLean. "Can you learn any -details about Miss Baird and how she came to be lying in that chair?" -It was impossible for him to suppress a shudder as he indicated the -empty throne-shaped chair. "She was dead, wasn't she?" - -"As dead as a door nail." His question was answered by Inspector -Mitchell, who had returned in time to catch their last few remarks. -"Can you give me any facts about Miss Baird, Doctor McLean?" - -"Only that she was a lifelong resident of Georgetown and a well-known -character--known for her eccentricities, that is," responded McLean. -"Her death has come as a great shock to Major Wallace and to me, -Inspector." - -"When did you see her last?" inquired Mitchell. His question was -addressed to both men, but it was McLean who answered it after a -moment's thought. - -"She was in my office on Friday." - -"Was she ill?" - -"No. For a woman of her age she was remarkably free from organic -trouble," replied McLean. "In fact, she did not come to consult me -about herself at all, but to ask for a tonic for her niece. By the way, -where is Miss Kitty Baird?" - -At the question Wallace raised his head and eyed the surgeon intently -for a second, then dropped his eyes as the other felt his gaze and -turned toward him. - -"Where is Miss Kitty Baird?" Mitchell repeated the surgeon's question. -"Blessed if I know." - -"What!" McLean started from the chair where he had seated himself a -moment before. "Do you mean to say that Miss Kitty Baird is not in her -bedroom?" - -"I do." Mitchell shook a puzzled head. "And she isn't in any part of -the house. My men and I have searched it thoroughly. We found only the -dead woman in the house and a live Angora cat." - -McLean stared at the inspector in dumbfounded amazement. A gurgling -sound from the sofa caused him to look at Wallace. The major, with -purpling face, was struggling to undo his collar. - -"Air! Air!" he gasped, and before the surgeon could spring to his aid, -he sank back unconscious against the sofa pillows. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -DETAILS - - -Inspector Mitchell and Dr. McLean watched the taxicab, in which rode -Major Leigh Wallace and Coroner Penfield, until it passed out of sight -on its way to Washington, before re�ntering the Baird mansion. - -"Major Wallace seems in bad shape," commented Mitchell, as they crossed -the hall toward the library. "I thought you would never bring him back -to consciousness, Doctor." - -"This library wasn't a pleasant sight for well man to encounter, -Mitchell, let alone a man in the major's condition," replied McLean. -"The results of shell-shock do not exactly prepare a man for this--" -and with a wave of his hand the surgeon indicated the tea table and the -throne-shaped chair where Miss Baird's body had lain on their entrance -three quarters of an hour before. - -"Eh, yes; but I should have thought the major's experiences overseas -would have accustomed him to gruesome scenes." Mitchell paused in front -of the porti�res and adjusted them carefully so that they completely -covered the doorway. - -"Walking into a room and finding a friend lying dead is a shock, -regardless of any past experience," responded McLean dryly. - -"Did Major Wallace know Miss Baird well?" inquired Mitchell. - -"Know her well?" repeated McLean. "Yes, and her niece, Kitty Baird, -even better, if rumor speaks truly." - -A certain inflection in the surgeon's voice caused Mitchell to eye -him sharply, but McLean's attention was entirely centered on the tea -table before which he was standing, and he appeared unaware of the -inspector's scrutiny. - -"Exactly what do you mean, Doctor?" asked the latter. "Your words would -imply--" - -"Nothing--except that rumor has it that Leigh Wallace and Kitty Baird -are engaged to be married." McLean balanced one hand on a chair and -tipped it back and forth. - -"And what is your _personal_ opinion, Doctor?" asked Mitchell shrewdly. - -McLean hesitated. "I am not quite so certain," he admitted. "Three -months ago I believed Wallace and Kitty were engaged; then--" - -"Yes?--" as McLean paused once more in his speech. - -"Then Kitty met Edward Rodgers of San Francisco," McLean smiled. "It's -a toss-up which man wins." - -"So." The inspector considered a moment. "So Miss Baird is still -willing to take a chance on marrying Major Wallace, is she?" - -"What d'ye mean?" McLean's abstracted manner disappeared instantly. - -"Well, I wouldn't exactly like my daughter to marry him," retorted -Mitchell. "Not after seeing his condition here to-day. I haven't much -medical knowledge--" - -"Quite so." The surgeon's dry tone caused Mitchell to redden. "I can -assure you, Mitchell, that Major Wallace's ill-health is but temporary." - -"Is it?" Mitchell eyed him reflectively, then as an idea occurred to -him his expression altered. "By Jove! Perhaps it wasn't the sight of -Miss Baird lying there dead which knocked him out, but the absence of -her niece, Miss Kitty Baird." - -McLean let the chair, which he had been balancing on two legs, go -slowly back to its proper position. - -"It is just possible that you are right," he agreed. "Kitty Baird's -absence has alarmed me also." - -"Is that so? You kept mighty calm about it," grumbled Mitchell. McLean -was not evincing much interest. "Possibly you don't realize that Miss -Baird did not die a natural death." - -McLean smiled ironically. "You pay me a poor compliment," he said. "I -only made a superficial examination of her body, but it assured me that -a--" he hesitated for a brief second, "that a tragedy had occurred." - -"Tragedy!" In fine scorn. "Why mince words? Say murder." - -"No." McLean spoke with provoking deliberation. "Suicide." - -"Suicide!" echoed the inspector. "Bah! Look at this room." - -Obediently McLean glanced about the library. It was a large room, -almost square in shape, two stories in height with an arched roof -containing a stained glass skylight. It was paneled in Flemish oak; and -oak bookcases, with sliding glass doors, filled most of the wall space, -while a gallery, on a level with the second story, circled the library. -Access to the gallery was gained from the library by a flight of -circular steps near the huge brick chimney which stood at the farther -end of the room. Bookcases, similar in type to those on the main floor -of the library, were in the gallery, and McLean scarcely glanced -upward; instead, his eyes roved over the worn furniture with its shabby -upholstery, the faded rugs on the hardwood floor, until finally his -gaze rested on the tea table. Given to observation of little things, he -noticed the spotless condition of the tea cloth and the neat darns in -one corner. Inspector Mitchell observed his silent contemplation of the -tea table. - -"Evidently Miss Baird was enjoying a cup of tea," he remarked. "See, -her cup is half full." - -"Have you analyzed its contents?" asked McLean. - -"Not yet." Mitchell moved impatiently. "Give us time, Doctor. It won't -take long to locate the criminal. He is sure to have left a clue behind -him among the tea things." - -"You will insist on murder!" McLean shrugged his shoulders. "I see only -one cup of tea," pointing to the table. "A teapot--is it empty?" He -stretched out his hand to pick it up, but Mitchell checked him with an -imperative gesture. - -"Don't handle anything, Sir," he cautioned. "We are making tests for -finger prints." - -"Quite right." McLean's hand dropped to his side. "Well, murder -presupposes the presence of some one beside the victim. I see only one -teacup, one plate with two sandwiches and a piece of cake, another -plate with a half-eaten peach. Not a very bountiful repast. Now, while -Miss Baird was poor, she was hospitable, inspector; had any one been -here, her visitor would have been provided with a cup of tea at least." - -"Perhaps--but suppose she wasn't aware of the, er, visitor's presence?" -asked Mitchell. - -McLean eyed him in silence for a second. "Have you found any indication -of another's presence?" he questioned. "Any clues?" - -"Nothing worth mentioning now," responded Mitchell, evasively. "Can -you give me the name of an intimate friend to whom Miss Baird may have -gone?" - -"Why, certainly; there's--let me see--" McLean pulled himself up -short. Who were Kitty Baird's intimate friends--her girl friends? He -could enumerate dozens of men whose admiration for her was sincere and -unconcealed, but when it came to the girls in their set--pshaw! women -were cats! Kitty's popularity had not endeared her to her own sex. - -"You might try Mrs. Amos Parsons," he suggested, and pointed to the -telephone table in a corner of the library. "Kitty is her private -secretary. No, wait," as Mitchell snatched up the telephone book and -hastily turned its well-thumbed pages. "She may be with her cousins, -Mr. and Mrs. Ben Potter. Here, I'll look up their number for you." - -Mitchell hung up the receiver in disgust a minute later. "Central -declares no one answers," he explained. "Who shall we try next? Mrs. -Parsons, did you say?" This time he was more successful in getting the -number desired, but the reply to his question was unsatisfactory. "The -butler declares Miss Baird hasn't been there since yesterday," he told -his companion. "Mrs. Parsons is not at home." - -McLean's expression had grown serious. "We had better communicate with -Charles Craige," he said. "Craige has handled Miss Baird's affairs for -years, lawyer, agent, and all that. He may aid us in locating Kitty." -Then with a touch of impatience, "Don't stop to look up the number of -his law office--it is Main 3300." - -As Inspector Mitchell turned again to the telephone, McLean rose and -slowly paced back and forth the length of the library. His familiarity -with the furnishings and the contents of the bookcases--his taste in -literature having coincided with that of Colonel Baird, who spent the -last years of his life squandering a depleted fortune to gratify his -craving as a collector--caused him to pay little attention to his -surroundings, and he walked with head bent, his thoughts with the dead -woman upstairs. - -Was Inspector Mitchell right--could it have been murder? Who would have -reason to harm so feeble an old lady? What motive could have inspired -such a senseless crime? Robbery--bah, thieves would not kill to secure -books and knickknacks of doubtful value. - -But then what motive could have prompted suicide? Why should a woman -so near the grave take her own life? Miss Baird had abhorred illness -in any form; she had always had a healthy distaste for invalidism, and -little patience with neurotic friends. - -Miss Susan Baird, of all persons, to be found dead--possibly murdered! -McLean took out his handkerchief and passed it over his forehead. For -the first time he grew conscious of the closeness of the atmosphere, of -the musty smell which dampness sometimes engenders. Instinctively, he -stopped in front of a side door which opened on a "stoop" leading to -the garden which extended to the back of the house. The door resisted -his attempts to open it, and he felt for the key. It was not in the -lock. - -McLean stared at the door in some surprise. It was the only one in -the house fitted with a modern lock, and it had always been Miss -Baird's custom to leave the key in the lock. The locks of the other -doors were hand-wrought before the Revolution and massive in size. It -had been Miss Baird's fad never to have them modernized. One of her -few extravagances, if it could be called such, had been to employ a -grandson of old "Oscar," their colored factotum, to keep the copper -highly burnished and shining with its old-time, slave-day luster. -The great fireplaces were lined with copper and Miss Baird was never -happier than when able to contemplate her grotesque reflection in the -walls of the fireplace in her library. - -McLean had been a frequent visitor at the Baird mansion, but never -before had he seen the key removed from the side door of the library. -With a puzzled frown he reached up and pulled back the copper latch -which released the upper half of the door--built in the style of the -"Dutch" door--and pulled it back. The fresh air, laden as it was with -dampness, was refreshing. The rain had slackened, and seeing there was -no danger of it splashing inside the library, he pulled the half door -still further open. Turning about, he found Inspector Mitchell at his -elbow. - -"I caught Mr. Craige," he announced. "He is coming right over." Then -with a complete change of tone. "How did you open the upper half of -this door?" - -"By pushing the catch, so--" and McLean demonstrated. - -"Hump!" Inspector Mitchell moved the catch back and forth. "I see, -there's a knack about it; it baffled me when I tried to open it. I have -the key of the lower door," and he drew it out of his pocket. - -"Why did you take it out of the lock?" - -"Because--" Inspector Mitchell's answer was interrupted by the sudden -rush of feet across the outer hall. The porti�res were thrust aside and -a girl dashed into the library followed by a man. - -Utterly oblivious of the inspector's presence, she sped across the room -to McLean. - -"Oh, Doctor, is it true?" she gasped, incoherently. "Is Aunt Susan--has -she--" She faltered and McLean caught her outstretched hands and drew -her into a chair. - -"Yes," he said, and his quiet, controlled tone brought some measure of -relief to the overwrought girl. "Your aunt is dead." - -Kitty Baird's head dropped forward and rested on her cupped hands, -and tears forced their way through her fingers. At the sound of her -weeping, a seven-toed Angora cat stole out from behind a piece of -furniture and pattered across the floor. With a flying leap she seated -herself in Kitty's lap and brushed her head against the girl's hands. -Kitty looked down, caught the soft body in her arms and held the cat -tightly to her. - -"Mouchette, Mouchette," she moaned. "Aunty's gone--gone," and she -buried her face in the long fur. Gradually, her sobs grew less, and -McLean, observing that she was regaining some hold on her composure, -withdrew to the other end of the library where Inspector Mitchell was -holding a low-toned conversation with Charles Craige. - -"I am glad you are here, Craige," McLean said, keeping his voice -lowered. "This is the devil of a mess." - -The lawyer's handsome face expressed grave concern. "So I judge from -what Inspector Mitchell told me on the telephone and what he has just -said." He moved so as to catch a better view of the library. "Where -have you taken Miss Baird?" - -"To her bedroom," replied Mitchell. "The autopsy will be held this -afternoon probably." - -He had not troubled to lower his rather strident voice and his words -reached Kitty's ears. Dropping the cat, she sprang to her feet with a -slight cry. - -"Autopsy?" she exclaimed. "No, not that!" And she put up her hand as if -to ward off a blow. - -"Why not?" demanded Mitchell, and as Kitty hesitated, McLean spoke -quickly. - -"It is customary in cases of sudden death, Kitty, to hold autopsies," -he explained. "Your aunt was found dead in this room--" - -"Here!" Kitty looked about with a shudder. "I did not realize--Mr. -Craige only told me--we met at the door," she pulled herself up short, -waited a moment, then continued with more composure. "I understood -that aunty had died suddenly. It has been a great shock," she looked -piteously from one to the other. "I have lived with aunty ever since I -can remember--and now to be without her!" She again paused to steady -her voice. "Oh, it seems impossible that she is dead; she was so -alive--so anxious to live." - -Inspector Mitchell cocked an eager eye at McLean. - -"So she wanted to live, Miss," he commented. "Never expressed any wish -to end her life, did she, Miss Baird?" - -"Never!" Kitty stared at him in astonishment. "What put such an idea -into your head?" - -"It wasn't ever in _my_ head," Mitchell retorted. "Dr. McLean is -responsible for the theory." - -Kitty turned and looked directly at McLean. Tears were still very near -the deep blue eyes, and her cheeks had lost their wonted color, but as -she faced the three men they were conscious of her beauty. Slightly -above medium height, she looked taller owing to her straight and -graceful carriage. McLean sighed involuntarily. He dreaded a scene. - -"Why, Doctor, what made you think Aunt Susan wished to die?" Kitty's -voice rose. "You told me only last week that she was in excellent -health." - -"So I did." McLean spoke in haste. "Your aunt was in good health, -Kitty; but, eh, the circumstances of her death--" - -Kitty's eyes widened. "The circumstances of her death," she repeated -slowly, and paused as if seeking a word, "were they not--natural?" - -"No, Miss Baird, they were not," broke in Inspector Mitchell, anxious -to have the floor. "We found your aunt dead in this library about two -hours ago. Dr. McLean examined her body; he can tell you from what she -died." - -Kitty looked in mute question at McLean while her trembling hands -plucked aimlessly at her damp handkerchief. The surgeon impulsively put -his arm about her shoulder before speaking. - -"Your aunt died from a dose of poison," he stated slowly. - -"Poison!" Kitty reeled and but for McLean's strong arm would have -fallen. Dumbly, she stared at the three men. "Aunt Susan poisoned! By -whom?" - -"We do not know that--yet," replied Mitchell, and the tone of his voice -chilled Kitty. It was some seconds before she could speak. - -"What poisoned her?" she asked. - -"The exact nature of the poison will be determined by the autopsy," -broke in McLean. "The coroner's examination of the body and mine were -superficial, but it did establish the fact that your aunt had swallowed -poison." He caught the terror which flashed into Kitty's eyes, and -added impulsively, "Miss Baird, in a moment of insanity, may have -committed suicide." - -"There you go again, Doctor." Mitchell laughed shortly. "Now, Miss -Baird, where did you spend last night?" - -"With my cousin, Nina Potter, and her husband, at their apartment -in Sixteenth Street," Kitty spoke mechanically. Turning about she -walked stiffly over to a chair and sank into it. She wondered if her -companions were aware of her trembling knees. - -"Kitty," Charles Craige's charmingly modulated voice sounded soothingly -to her overwrought nerves. "I would have prepared you for this had -I known," he hesitated, "these details. But Inspector Mitchell only -telephoned to me that your aunt was dead, and it was not until we both -came in that I learned, as you have, of the tragedy. I grieve with you, -dear child; your aunt was my good friend for many years." - -Kitty looked up at him gratefully. She was very fond of her handsome -godfather. "Thank you," she murmured. "I feel stunned." She pressed her -fingers against her temples. "Oh, poor aunty--to die here alone! Why, -why didn't I get up early and come here at once without waiting for -breakfast? I might have saved her." - -McLean moved uneasily and exchanged glances with Mitchell. - -"Don't reproach yourself, Kitty," he begged. "Your presence here this -morning would not have saved your aunt," and as she looked at him in -astonishment, he added more slowly, "judging from the condition of the -body, your aunt died fully twenty hours ago." - -Charles Craig broke the silence. "Twenty hours ago," he repeated. "That -would be yesterday--" - -"Sunday afternoon, to be exact," stated Inspector Mitchell. "When did -you leave here, Miss Baird?" - -"Yesterday afternoon, about three o'clock; no, nearly four," Kitty -corrected herself with a haste not lost upon the inspector. - -"And when did you last see your aunt alive?" he questioned. - -"About that time." Kitty's foot tapped restlessly against the rug. "She -was in her bedroom, and I called to her as I went down the staircase." - -"What did you say to her?" Mitchell was taking mental note of Kitty's -well-groomed appearance and her nervous handling of her handkerchief. - -"I told her not to sit up late." Kitty did not meet the inspector's -eyes. "Aunt Susan seldom went to bed before one or two o'clock in the -morning; she claimed it rested her to sit up and read in the library." - -"Were the servants here when you left the house?" asked Mitchell. - -"Servants?" A ghost of a smile touched Kitty's lips. "Aunty would not -employ any one but old Oscar. He never comes until about seven in the -morning, and leaves immediately after dinner." - -"And was it your custom to leave your aunt alone in the house at -night?" Mitchell was blind to the heavy frown with which McLean -listened to his continued questioning of Kitty. The surgeon guessed the -tension she was under and dreaded a breakdown. - -"Occasionally, yes." Observing Mitchell's expression, Kitty added -hastily, "Why not? Aunt Susan feared no one." - -"And she was murdered." Inspector Mitchell eyed her keenly; then -glanced at his companions--both men were watching Kitty. - -"Or killed herself--" Kitty spoke with an effort. "How did you learn of -my aunt's death?" - -Inspector Mitchell seemed not to hear the question and Kitty repeated -it more peremptorily. - -"We received a telephone message, at Headquarters," he stated finally. -"I was in the office at the time and came over to investigate." He -paused dramatically. "We found your aunt sitting dead in that chair." -He walked over and touched the throne-shaped chair. Kitty did not -follow him except with her eyes. - -"How did you get in?" asked Craige, walking toward him. - -"We found the key of the front door in the lock _on the outside_," -replied Mitchell. - -"What!" Kitty sprang to her feet. - -"Odd, wasn't it?" Mitchell was watching her closely. - -"Very," briefly. Kitty paused in thought. "What was the nature of the -message you received over the telephone, Inspector?" - -"To come at once to 'Rose Hill,'" Mitchell spoke with impressiveness. -"That a crime had been committed." - -"Good heavens!" Kitty took a step in his direction, but before she -could speak again, Mitchell held up his hand for silence. - -"Did I understand, Miss Baird, that you and your aunt occupied this -house alone at night?" he asked. - -"We did." - -"And you left here between three and four o'clock on Sunday--yesterday -afternoon?" - -"Yes." - -"And the last time you saw your aunt she was alive?" - -"Yes." - -"Do you employ a female servant?" - -"No." - -Inspector Mitchell regarded the girl in silence. She bore his scrutiny -with outward composure. - -"Miss Baird," he spoke slowly, weighing his words. "I took the message -over the telephone to come at once to 'Rose Hill'--that a crime had -been committed here. The message was given by a woman." - -Kitty stared at him uncomprehendingly, dumbly; then, before they could -detain her, she fled from the library and rushing upstairs, dashed into -her room, locked the door, and flung herself face downward on the bed. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -SUICIDE? - - -The reception was in full swing and Mrs. Amos Parsons contemplated her -crowded drawing room in a spirit of happy self-congratulation. She had -just welcomed a newly accredited ambassador and introduced a Cabinet -officer to the ambassador's charming wife and she felt that her feet -were at last securely placed upon the ladder of success. The scene was -typical of the national Capital. The World War had rudely interrupted -the "calling" days of the hostesses of Washington, but with the advent -of peace a return had been made to old customs, and "teas" were again -taking their accepted place in the social calendar. - -"A penny for your thoughts," said a masculine voice over her shoulder -and glancing around Mrs. Parsons found Charles Craige at her elbow. - -"You offer a penny too much," laughed Mrs. Parsons. "They were idle -thoughts--" - -"About the idle rich." Craig looked at her with admiration. "Upon my -word, Cecilia, you grow prettier every day." - -"Happiness is a great 'beautifier,'" Mrs. Parsons glanced up at him -with a strange, new shyness; then quickly veiled her eyes that he might -not read her thoughts too plainly. Under pretense of arranging the -bouquet, his gift, which she was carrying, Craige pressed her hand. His -marked attention to the fascinating widow had aroused the interest of -their circle of friends, and the prospect of the announcement of their -engagement had formed the topic of conversation on numerous occasions. - -There was a lull in the arrival of guests and Mrs. Parsons -imperceptibly edged toward an alcove. Many curious glances were cast -in their direction by both men and women who stood chatting in groups -about the long drawing room. They made a striking tableau--Mrs. -Parsons' delicate beauty enhanced by a perfectly fitting modish -gown, and Charles Craige, standing tall and straight beside her, -his iron-grey hair and ruddy complexion adding distinction to his -appearance. - -"The world and his wife are here this afternoon, Cecilia," he said. -"Your tea is an unqualified success. And every one is lingering," -glancing down the room. "That is a sure sign that they are enjoying -themselves." - -"Except Major Wallace." Mrs. Parsons drew his attention to a man -worming his way between the groups of people. "He appears to avoid his -friends--there, he has cut Nina Potter dead." - -"What a caddish thing to do!" Craige spoke with warmth as he saw Mrs. -Potter shrink back and her half-extended hand drop to her side. Turning -quickly, she slipped behind two women and disappeared from their sight. -Walking moodily ahead, Leigh Wallace found himself face to face with -his hostess and Charles Craige. - -"Not leaving so early, surely?" she exclaimed as he put out his hand. - -"Yes, I just dropped in for a minute," Wallace explained, and he made -no effort to conceal the indifference of his tone. "I don't feel very -fit this afternoon, so you must excuse me. Good evening, Craige," and -he turned abruptly and left them. - -"Of all uncivil people!" observed Mrs. Parsons, much incensed. "That's -the last invitation he gets to my house." - -"He doesn't look well," Craige remarked thoughtfully. "I presume he and -Kitty Baird have had another quarrel." - -"Well, he has no right to vent his ill-humor on me or my guests." Mrs. -Parsons was not pacified. - -"I hope Kitty decides to marry Ted Rogers and not Leigh Wallace." -Craige looked grave. "It would be a far more suitable match, although -I understand Rodgers is not wealthy." - -"Mr. Rodgers was here a moment ago." Mrs. Parsons raised her lorgnette -and glanced about her. "He asked particularly for Kitty. Where in the -world is she? She was to pour tea for me this afternoon." - -"Have you not heard--" - -"Heard?" Attracted by the alteration in Craige's voice, Mrs. Parsons -looked at him. "Heard what?" - -"That Kitty's aunt, Miss Susan Baird, was found dead this morning--" - -"Great heavens!" Mrs. Parsons retreated a step in shocked surprise. -"Oh, Mrs. Sutherland, so glad to see you. You know Mr. Craige, of -course." As the newcomer and the lawyer exchanged greetings, Mrs. -Parsons saw Nina Potter and started toward her, but several guests -claimed her attention and when she looked around Nina had vanished. - -The room which served Benjamin Potter as a combination workshop and -library was at the other end of the apartment which the elderly -naturalist had leased upon his marriage to Nina Underwood six months -before. The apartment house, one of those erected to meet the demands -for housing wealthy war-workers who thronged the national Capital -during the winter of 1917-1918, had but one apartment to each floor, -and Potter had been gratified by having the best room, from his point -of view, set aside for his exclusive use by his bride. - -Mrs. Potter had also seen to it that the furniture was of the finest -mahogany, the filing and specimen cases of the most approved models, -while the leather-seated chairs and lounges added greatly to the -comfort of the occupants of the room. No expense had been spared and -for the first time in his hard-working, studious life, Ben Potter had -found himself surrounded with every comfort which money could purchase. - -Potter's marriage to his pretty stenographer had been a severe shock -to several impecunious relatives and a nine days' wonder to his small -world. He had taken the surprised comments and sometimes belated -congratulations of both relatives and friends with the same placid -good nature which characterized all his actions. Nina, with a tact for -which she had not been credited, went out of her way to cultivate his -friends, and if she felt the chilly reception accorded her, never by -word or manner betrayed the fact. - -Seated alone in his room and absorbed in his book, Potter was oblivious -of the lengthening shadows and was only recalled to his surroundings by -the opening of the door. - -"Well, what is it?" he asked testily. "Oh!" At sight of his wife, his -expression brightened. "I did not expect you home so soon." - -"Soon?" Nina laughed softly, as she brushed his unruly gray hair back -from his forehead. "Have you no idea of the time? It is nearly six -o'clock, and you should not be reading with only one light turned on. -Doctor McLean must talk to you." - -Potter made a wry face. "I would rather listen to you than any doctor," -he said and pulled forward a chair close to his own. "Tell me, have you -had a pleasant time at Mrs. Parsons' tea?" - -"Does one ever have a pleasant time at a tea?" Nina's gesture was -eloquent. "Where are your matches, dear?"--fumbling, as she spoke, with -her cigarette case. - -Potter frowned slightly as he located a match box under the tumbled -papers on his desk and struck a light for her. He had never been able -to master his dislike to women smoking, in spite of his staunch belief -that his pretty wife was always right in everything she did. Reading -his expression like a book, Nina slipped her hand inside his and leaned -against his arm. - -"It is very lonely going about without you," she murmured. "I don't -enjoy myself a bit when you remain at home." - -Potter turned and kissed the soft cheek so near his own. "My holiday is -over," he answered, and putting out his foot touched a packing case, -its contents partly spread on the floor in an untidy pile. "I cannot -neglect my work." - -"You will never be accused of that," with flattering emphasis. "But, -dear, I need--want your society more than these dreadful reptiles," -and she made a slight grimace as she glanced at the bottles containing -specimens preserved in alcohol which adorned the shelves of a cabinet -near at hand. "I know," lowering her voice, "I'm selfish--" - -"I love your selfishness, dear," he replied, and held her closely to -him just as a tap sounded on the door. "Confound it! Come in." - -The Japanese servant, who answered his command, bowed profoundly, and -his calm gaze never flickered at sight of the loverlike attitude of -husband and wife. - -"You home, Sir?" he asked. - -"Yes, of course, I'm home. What of it?" Potter dropped his arm from -about his wife's waist in embarrassment. - -"Mr. Rodgers call upon you." The Japanese spoke without haste. "You see -him?" - -"Certainly. Bring him here," and at the words Moto vanished. - -"Here?" echoed Nina. "Isn't it a bit untidy?" - -"What of it? He hasn't come to see us," he grumbled. "Probably thinks -Kitty is here. I don't approve of Kitty playing fast and loose with -those two men." - -"What men?" Nina was not looking at her husband, and missed his keen -scrutiny. - -"Ted Rodgers and Leigh Wallace," briefly. "If it goes on much longer, -I will speak to Cousin Susan Baird. Hello, what did you do that for?" -as the room was suddenly plunged in darkness. A second later the light -flashed up. - -"I pulled the wrong string," Nina explained as she lighted both sides -of the electric lamp. - -Potter paused undecidedly, then rose and, going over to the packing -case, tossed excelsior and paper back into it and pushed it behind -a screen. When he turned back, he saw Nina deftly rearranging the -ornaments and papers on his flat top desk. In silence he watched her -graceful movements and the play of the lamplight on her hair which -shone like spun gold under its rays. It would have taken a more -observant man than her husband to have discovered that nature's art had -been supplemented by the rouge pot. No wrinkles marred the soft pink -and white tint of her complexion, and few would have guessed that she -had passed her thirtieth birthday. - -Looking up, Nina caught her husband's gaze and flushed faintly. - -"I hope Mr. Rodgers won't stay long," she began, and checked herself -hastily as Moto ushered in their caller. "So very glad to see you, Mr. -Rodgers," she exclaimed, extending her hand, which rested in his for a -fraction of a second and was withdrawn. - -At the touch of her cold fingers, Rodgers looked intently at her. He -still found it hard to realize that the fashionably gowned woman before -him was Ben Potter's wife. Ben a Benedict! The mere idea had provoked a -smile, and the announcement of the marriage in cold print had produced -a burst of merriment, and the silent hope that Ben had found a motherly -soul to run his house for him. Instead of which, with the perversity of -Fate, Ben Potter had selected a wife at least fifteen years his junior, -who would most certainly enjoy the social life of Washington to the -full. - -Potter had formed a strong attachment for the younger man when spending -a winter in San Francisco three years before and Rodgers had been a -frequent visitor since his arrival in Washington. His visits, as Potter -shrewdly noted, were generally timed to find Kitty Baird with her -cousins, and ended in his escorting her home. - -"I missed you both at Mrs. Parsons' tea, so dropped in for a chat," -Rodgers remarked, accepting a cigar from Potter as Nina perched herself -on one end of the lounge. "Why weren't you there?" - -"Nina went," answered Potter, throwing himself down in his favorite -chair. "You don't catch me at a tea." - -"You were there, Mrs. Potter?" Rodgers spoke in surprise. "I searched -for you--" - -"It was a frightful jam." Nina picked up her workbag which she had left -on the lounge earlier in the afternoon and unfolded its contents. "I -did not stay long." - -"But you heard the news?" - -"News?" Potter glanced up, expectantly. The tone in which the question -was put arrested his attention which had strayed to his wife. "Was -there any special news? Nina, you didn't tell me." - -"I heard no news in particular." Nina held a needle and thread nearer -the light. "To what do you refer, Mr. Rodgers?" - -"To the death of Miss Susan Baird." - -Potter sat bolt upright. His healthy color changed to a sickly white. -"Cousin Susan dead? Impossible!" - -"It is a fact. Mr. Craige told me--" Rodgers stooped over and picked up -the needle which had slipped from Nina's clutch. "Take care you don't -prick yourself, Mrs. Potter," he warned, as he placed it in the palm of -her hand and noticed the quick, spasmodic movement of her fingers. "The -news had just gotten about and every one at the tea was talking of Miss -Baird." - -"That's turning the tables; usually Cousin Susan talked about -everybody," Potter remarked, breaking a slight pause. "Why hasn't Kitty -telephoned us? I am now her nearest living relative." - -"She may have tried to reach us," suggested his wife. "I don't suppose -Moto answered the telephone in my absence; he hates it. Did you hear it -ring, Ben?" - -"No," shortly. "I can't say I grieve over your news, Ted. I have always -resented Cousin Susan's treatment of Kitty. Made the girl slave for -her, the venomous old scandal-monger." - -"Ben!" Nina's shocked tone caused her husband to pause in his rapid -speech. "Did you hear, Mr. Rodgers, the cause of Cousin Susan's death?" - -"Bit her tongue and died from blood-poisoning," growled Potter, before -Rodgers could answer. - -"Ben!" - -"Well, all right, dear; I'll say no more. But," in self-defense, noting -Rodgers' surprise, "I've had no cause to love Cousin Susan-- I heard -her caustic remarks about my marriage. Never mind that now," with a -quick glance at his wife. "Go ahead, Ted, tell us of what Cousin Susan -died." - -"The coroner will have to answer that question, Ben." - -"The coroner!" Potter rose to his feet and stared at his guest. "What -d'ye mean? Oh, hurry your speech, man; don't keep us in suspense," as -Rodgers hesitated and eyed Mrs. Potter in some trepidation. Judging -from her sudden loss of color, she was about to faint. - -"Your cousin was found dead," he said, and got no further. - -"Found dead--where?" demanded Mrs. Potter, breathlessly. - -"In her library." - -Potter broke the pause. "Go ahead and tell us what you know, Ted." He -reseated himself. "Give us every detail." - -Rodgers shook his head. "I know very little on the subject," he said. -"I stopped on the way here and telephoned to 'Rose Hill,' but could get -no response; so I came right here supposing you could tell me further -news. I thought Miss Kitty might be with you." - -"We have not seen Kitty since early this morning," answered Nina. "Who -found Cousin Susan?" Rodgers, his ear trained to detect variations in -the human voice, observed a faint huskiness in the usual soft tones. - -"I do not know, Mrs. Potter," he said. "Miss Baird was so well-known in -Washington that her death was commented on at the tea, and I only heard -a garbled account of what occurred. Perhaps there might be something in -the evening paper." - -"To be sure." Potter jumped at the suggestion, and hurrying toward the -door, pushed an electric bell. A second later and Moto responded. "The -evening paper, quick." - -Moto let his gaze travel around the room, then darting forward he -crossed to where the packing case stood partially concealed behind the -screen. Delving into its contents, he returned a moment later with a -crumpled newspaper and extended it to his master. - -"You toss it down, so," demonstrating, "when I bring it to you, sir," -he explained. "You say, 'Moto, don't trouble me, go away,' and I go." - -"Well, well, Moto, you interrupted me." Potter's tone was apologetic. -"Much obliged for finding the paper. That is all I wanted." And Moto -slipped away to his pantry in time to hear the buzzer of the front door -bell sounding faintly. - -Forgetful of all but the paper in his hand, Potter turned it over and -searched for the item of news. - -"Try the first page," suggested Rodgers. Potter switched the sheet -around and gave vent to a startled exclamation as his eyes fell on the -double column heading: - - ELDERLY SPINSTER FOUND DEAD - SUICIDE SUSPECTED - -"Suicide!" Potter gasped. "Bless my soul! Who would have believed Cousin -Susan would kill herself?" - -"She didn't!" The denial rang out clearly from the direction of the -door and wheeling around the three occupants of the room saw Kitty -Baird confronting them. "Aunt Susan did not commit suicide, Ben; you -know she didn't." - -Potter stared at her long and earnestly. Twice he opened his mouth -to speak and closed it again, after a look at Ted Rodgers who, upon -Kitty's entrance, had stopped somewhat in the background so that his -face was in shadow. - -"I don't know anything," Potter said finally. "I haven't read the -paper--" - -"The paper has printed lies!" Kitty's foot came down with an -unmistakable stamp, and her eyes sparkled with wrath. "I tell you Aunt -Susan did not commit suicide." - -"Yes, dear." Nina stepped hastily forward and threw her arm -protectingly across Kitty's shoulder. "Come and sit down, and when you -are more composed you can tell us of--of the details." Exerting some -strength, she pulled the unwilling girl to the lounge and gently pushed -her down upon it. "I am so, so sorry, Kitty. Your aunt--" she stumbled -a bit in her speech--"Your aunt's death is a great shock--" - -"To me," bitterly. "I know many people disliked her. Poor Aunt Susan--" -Kitty's lips trembled. "You need not try to dissemble your feelings, -Ben. I know you hated Susan." - -"Oh, come, Kitty; that's pretty strong language!" Potter flushed -angrily. "You are unstrung--where are your smelling salts, Nina?" - -"A glass of wine would be better." Rodgers spoke for the first time, -and Kitty looked up in startled surprise. She had been conscious of a -third person in the room when she first entered, but, absorbed in her -talk with her cousin, had forgotten his presence. - -"Where's my flask?" demanded Potter, considerably shaken out of his -habitual calm. "Oh, thank you, my dear," as Nina snatched it out of one -of his desk drawers. "Now, Kitty," unscrewing the stopper and pouring -some cognac into an empty tumbler, which, with a water carafe, stood -on his desk. "Drink this; no, I insist--" as she put up her hand in -protest. "You will need all your strength--drink every drop." - -Kitty's eyes sought Rodgers and his quick "Please do" did more to make -her drink the cognac than all Potter's urging. The fiery strength of -the old brandy made her catch her breath, but she did not put the -tumbler down until she had swallowed its contents. As the stimulant -crept through her veins, her head cleared, and the feeling of deadly -faintness which had threatened to overcome her several times on her way -to her cousin's apartment, disappeared. - -"I will tell you what I know," she began. "Aunt Susan was found by -the police dead in our library. The coroner claims that she had taken -poison." - -"Well?" prompted Potter. "Go on." - -"Aunt Susan never swallowed poison--of her own free will." Kitty turned -and gazed at Ted Rodgers. Intently she studied his face, noting his -clear-cut features and shapely head. Standing six feet four, he seemed -to dwarf Ben Potter. Although the latter was nearly his equal in -height, the stoop in his shoulders, which betrayed the hours spent in -poring over books, made Potter appear much shorter. Something of his -quiet, determined character showed in Rodgers' firm mouth and handsome -eyes, eyes which redeemed the severe lines of his face. - -He had fallen madly in love with Kitty and had courted her with the -persistency of his faithful nature. Heartsick, craving sympathy, which -had brought her to her cousin only to be rebuffed by his reception of -the news of her aunt's death, Kitty turned instinctively to Rodgers. - -"Won't you help me prove that Aunt Susan did not commit suicide?" she -asked. - -As he studied the upturned face, the deep blue eyes, made more -brilliant by the tears she had shed that morning, and noted the forlorn -droop of her shoulders, Rodgers' decision was taken. - -"I will do anything for you--anything," he promised, his deep voice -vibrating with feeling. - -"Then find the murderer of Aunt Susan," she cried. - -"How--what?" Potter looked at her aghast. "What makes _you_ think -Cousin Susan was murdered?" - -"My intuition," promptly. "Oh, you may jeer, but it was no case of -suicide. Aunt Susan did not court death--she feared it." - - - - -CHAPTER V - -AT THE MORGUE - - -Coroner Penfield adjusted his glasses and gazed at the six men who -composed the jury, as they filed into their places, and then turned to -look at the spectators assembled in the room reserved for the coroner's -inquests at the District of Columbia Morgue. Not only Washington -society was taking a deep interest in the inquiry into the death of -Miss Susan Baird, but many other citizens of the national Capital, to -whom the name of Baird meant nothing, and who had been unacquainted -with the spinster in her lifetime. Every seat was taken in the large -square room, and from his position on the elevated platform, where -stood tables and chairs for the coroner, his assistant, the reporters, -and the witnesses, Coroner Penfield saw Dr. Leonard McLean conversing -with Inspector Mitchell of the Central Office. - -The hands of the wall clock were within five minutes of ten, the hour -at which the inquest had been called, on Tuesday morning, when the -outer door opened and Ted Rodgers stepped inside the room, followed -a second later by Benjamin Potter. Observing two unoccupied seats on -the second row they crossed the room, exchanging, as they did so, -low-spoken greetings with friends and acquaintances who had come early -to secure the most advantageous seats. - -The swearing in of the jury by the Morgue Master required but a short -time. Clearing his throat, Coroner Penfield outlined the reason for the -inquest, and asked the jury if they had inspected the body of the dead -woman. - -"We have," responded the foreman, and Penfield turned to the Morgue -Master, who occupied a chair at the foot of the platform. - -"Call the first witness," he directed. "Inspector Mitchell." - -Hat in hand, the Inspector advanced to the steps and mounted to the -witness chair, and was duly sworn by the Morgue Master. In businesslike -tones he answered the coroner's quickly put questions as to his -identity and length of service on the Metropolitan Police Force and -Detective Bureau. - -"Did you find Miss Baird's body?" asked the coroner. - -"I did, Sir." - -"When?" - -"Yesterday, Monday morning, when summoned to her home in Georgetown." - -"How did the summons reach you?" - -"By telephone." Mitchell hesitated, and the coroner waited for him to -continue before putting another question. "The message was to go at -once to 'Rose Hill,' that a crime had been committed there." - -"Did the person talking on the telephone give his name?" - -"No, Sir." - -"Did you ask his name?" - -"I did, but she rang off instead of answering." - -"She?" inquiringly. - -"I took the voice to be that of a woman," explained Mitchell cautiously. - -"Are you not certain that it was a woman speaking?" - -"To the best of my belief it was." Mitchell paused. "I am sure it was a -woman's voice." - -"Have you tried to trace the call?" - -"Yes," somewhat glumly. "But Central had no record of it." - -"Then it did not come over a public telephone?" - -"No, Sir." - -"Was it on a limited service wire?" - -"No. Central declares not," responded Mitchell. "She insists that it -must have been sent by some one using unlimited service." - -Penfield paused to jot down a note on his memorandum pad before again -questioning the inspector. - -"At what hour did the telephone call reach you?" - -"At eight minutes past eight o'clock yesterday morning. I was in Police -Headquarters and took the message myself," tersely. - -"At what hour did you reach Miss Baird's home?" - -"Fifteen minutes later. I took O'Bryan, a plain clothes man, and -Patrolman Myers with me." - -"Tell us what you found when you reached the Baird house," Coroner -Penfield directed, settling back in his chair. Conscious that he had -the undivided attention of every one in the crowded room, Mitchell -spoke with slow impressiveness. - -"We went up the front steps of the house and rang the bell; not getting -any response we rang several times. I was just thinking that we had -better try the back entrance when O'Bryan saw the key in the front -door--" - -"Wait." Penfield held up his hand. "Do I understand that the key to the -front door was left in the lock on the _outside_ in plain view of every -passer-by?" - -"It wasn't exactly in plain view," protested Mitchell. "We didn't see -it at once, and the sidewalk is some distance from the house, which -stands on a high terrace. Passers-by could not see the key in the lock -unless they ran up the steps and stood in the vestibule of the front -door." - -"Was the door locked?" - -"Yes, Sir." - -"Was it a spring lock?" - -"No, Sir." Mitchell drew an old-fashioned brass key from his pocket and -handed it to the coroner. "That lock, Sir, was made by hand many years -ago. It's the kind that if you lock the door, either from the inside -or the outside, the door could not be opened unless you had the key to -unlock it." - -"Then, Inspector, some person, on leaving the Baird house, locked the -door on the outside, and thereby locked in any person or persons who -might have been in the house at that time?" - -"Yes, Sir." - -"Ump!" Penfield picked up the brass key and handed it to the foreman of -the jury. "Did you find finger marks on the key?" he asked. - -"No, not one." Mitchell hesitated. "Whoever handled the key wore -gloves." - -"Very likely." Penfield spoke more briskly. "What did you discover -inside the house, Inspector?" - -"We found no one in the hall; so we walked into the parlor which is on -the right of the front door. No one was there, so we kept on through -the door opening into the rear hall, and from there walked into the -library." Mitchell paused dramatically. "There we found Miss Baird's -dead body lying huddled up in a big chair in front of her tea table." - -"Had she been taking tea?" - -"Yes, judging from the plate of sandwiches and cakes, and her nearly -empty teacup." Mitchell explained in detail. "There was a plate in -front of her on which lay a half-eaten peach." - -"Was there evidence to show that some one had been having tea with Miss -Baird?" inquired Penfield. - -"Only one cup and saucer and plate had been used, Sir." - -"And the chairs, how were they placed?" - -"About as usual, I imagine." Mitchell looked a trifle worried. "There -was no chair drawn up to the tea table, if you mean that. Only Miss -Baird's chair stood close by it." - -"What did you do upon the discovery of Miss Baird's body?" asked -Penfield, after a pause. - -"Made sure that she was dead and not in need of a physician, then sent -O'Bryan to telephone to the coroner, while Myers and I searched the -house," replied Mitchell. - -"Did you find any one in the house?" - -"No, Sir. It was empty, except for the dead woman and a cat." - -The inspector's reply caused a stir of interest, and one juror started -to address him, then, conscious of attracting attention, decided not to -speak. - -"Did you find the windows and doors locked?" inquired Penfield, after a -second's thought. - -"Yes; that is, those on the first floor and in the basement were -locked," explained Mitchell. "The windows on the second and third -floors were unlocked, but closed. Sunday was a cold day," he added. - -"In your opinion, Mitchell, could the house have been entered from the -second story?" asked Penfield. - -The inspector considered the question before answering. "No, Sir, not -without a ladder, and we found none on the premises. The house sets -back in its own grounds, so to speak, and the neighboring houses are -quite far away. There is no party wall, and no porch roof to aid a -housebreaker." - -"That is all for the present, Inspector. As you go out, ask O'Bryan to -come here." - -The plain clothes officer kept them waiting only a brief second. -His testimony simply corroborated that of his superior officer, and -Patrolman Myers, who followed him, added nothing of interest. Upon his -departure from the platform, his place was taken by an old negro, who, -with some difficulty, mounted the steps and hobbled across the platform -to the witness chair. - -"What is your name?" asked Coroner Penfield, who had waited in some -impatience while the witness was being sworn. - -"Oscar, Sah, please, Sah." - -"Oscar what?" - -"Oscar Benjamin De Cassenove Jackson, Sah." - -"Well, Oscar, are you acquainted with the nature of an oath?" - -"Laws, Sah, ain't I been married mos' forty years? My wife, she's kinda -handy wif her tongue," and Oscar smiled, deprecatingly. - -"I am not alluding to swearing," exclaimed Penfield. "I mean the sort -of oath requiring you to tell the truth and nothing but the truth." - -"Laws, Sah, I tells de truf every day o' my life," replied Oscar with -some indignation. "'Tain't no occasion to tell me that." - -"Very well." Penfield spoke with sternness. "Remember, you are under -oath to tell only the truth. When did you last see Miss Susan Baird -alive?" - -Oscar blinked at the abruptness of the question. "Sunday mawning, Sah, -when I was servin' dinner at one o'clock." - -"Did she appear to be in good spirits?" asked Penfield. "In good -health--" he added, noting Oscar's mystified expression. - -"Yessir. She ate real hearty, and when I went in de lib'ry after -dinner, she was jes' as peaceful an' ca'm, a-sittin' in that great -easy chair o' hers as if she never had had no words with Miss Kitty." - -"Oh, so Miss Baird had words with Miss Kitty--and who might Miss Kitty -be?" - -A startled look flitted across Ted Rodgers' face, to be gone the next -instant. He had followed the testimony of each witness with undivided -attention, answering only in monosyllables the muttered remarks made -to him occasionally by Ben Potter, whose expression of boredom had -given place to more lively interest at sight of Oscar on his way to the -witness chair. - -"Who am Miss Kitty?" asked Oscar in scandalized surprise. "Why, Miss -Baird's niece. They live together, leastwise they did 'till yesterday. -Poor ole Miss, she didn't mean no harm--" - -"No harm to whom?" questioned Penfield swiftly. - -"To Miss Kitty. She jes' said she wouldn't have no such carrying-on," -explained Oscar. - -"To what did she refer?" - -Oscar favored the coroner with a blank stare. "I dunno, Sah. That's all -o' de conversation that I overheard." - -Penfield regarded him attentively, but the old man's gaze did not -waver, and after a moment he resumed his examination. - -"How long have you worked for Miss Baird?" - -"'Most twenty years, Sah." - -"And what did you do for her?" - -"I cooked, waited on de table, tended de fires and de garden, cleaned -de house, an' run errands," ended Oscar with a flourish, and Penfield -had difficulty in suppressing a smile. Oscar's rheumatic legs did not -suggest an agile errand boy. - -"Who were the other servants?" - -"Weren't none," tersely. "Miss Baird, she wouldn't keep no yeller help, -so Mandy, my wife, washed de clothes, an' I done de rest." - -"Did you and Mandy sleep in Miss Baird's house?" - -"No, Sah. We lives in our own house, two blocks away." - -"What were your working hours?" - -"Hey?" Oscar stroked his wooly head reflectively. "'Most all day," he -volunteered finally. "Mandy had one o' her spells yesterday mawnin' an' -I had ter get a doctah fo' her, an' that's why I never reached Miss -Baird's 'til 'bout noon." - -"I see." Penfield sat back in his chair and fumbled with his watch -charm. Oscar as a witness was a disappointment, whatever his -accomplishments as an all-round servant. "At what hour did you leave -Miss Baird's on Sunday?" - -"'Bout half-past two," answered Oscar, after due thought. - -"And whom did you leave in the house?" - -"Miss Baird and her niece, Miss Kitty." - -"No one else--no visitor?" - -"No, Sah." - -"Think again, Oscar. Remember, you are under oath. Did either Miss -Baird or Miss Kitty Baird have callers before you left on Sunday -afternoon?" - -"No, Sah, they did not, not while I was there." - -Penfield pushed back his chair and rose. "That will do, Oscar, you are -excused. Hume," to the Morgue Master. "Call Miss Katrina Baird." - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -TESTIMONY - - -There was craning of necks and bending of heads as the Morgue Master -opened the door leading to the room where the witnesses waited to be -called, and every eye was focussed on Kitty Baird as she stepped into -the court room. - -"Don't look so startled, Kitty," whispered Dr. Leonard McLean in her -ear. He had retained his seat by the door, expecting to leave at any -moment. "This inquest is only a legal formality." - -"But these people--the publicity," she faltered. - -"Move on, Miss, move on," directed Hume, the Morgue Master. "You can't -talk to the witnesses, Doctor. This way, Miss," and interposing his -thickset, stocky figure between Leonard and Kitty, he followed her to -the platform and administered the oath: "To tell the truth, the whole -truth, and nothing but the truth." - -Kitty sat down in the witness chair with a feeling of thankfulness. -The space between it and the door through which she had entered had -seemed an endless distance as she traversed it. Coroner Penfield swung -his chair around so as to obtain a better view of her. - -"Your full name?" he asked. - -"Katrina Baird." Her low voice barely reached the jurors, and Penfield -smiled at her encouragingly. - -"Please speak louder," he suggested. "Were you related to Miss Susan -Baird?" - -"Yes; she was my aunt," Kitty's voice gained in strength as her -confidence returned. "My father, Judge George Baird, was her only -brother." - -"You made your home in Georgetown with your aunt?" - -"Yes, ever since the death of my parents." - -"And who else resided with your aunt?" - -"No one." - -"No servants?" - -"No. Our only servant, Oscar, never slept in the house." - -"Did your aunt ever employ another servant?" - -"No." - -"No chambermaid?" - -"No." Kitty's flush was becoming to her, the coroner decided. The added -color brought out the blue of her eyes and softened the haggard lines -which had come overnight. "My aunt could not afford to employ two -servants, so we looked after the house, Oscar doing the heavy work. He -was always faithful and kind." - -"And devoted to your aunt?" with a quick look at her. - -"Yes, certainly," she responded, calmly. - -There was a brief pause before Penfield again addressed her, and Kitty, -her first nervous dread of facing the crowded court room a thing of the -past, allowed her gaze to wander about the room. It was with a sharp -stab of pain that she recognized more than one familiar face among the -spectators. Could it be that men and women whom her aunt had counted -among her friends and whom she had entertained in her limited way had -come to the inquest from curiosity? Kitty shivered, the idea shocked -her. - -"Did you spend last Sunday at home, Miss Baird?" asked Penfield. - -"No, not the entire day," she replied. "I left there about three -o'clock in the afternoon to go to my cousin, Mrs. Benjamin Potter, at -whose apartment I was to spend the night." - -"Was it your custom to leave your aunt alone in the house at night?" - -"Not a custom, certainly; but I did occasionally stay overnight with -friends or with my cousins, Mr. and Mrs. Potter, in Washington," Kitty -explained. "Aunt Susan was never afraid of being left alone in the -house. And, of course, I was at my work all through the day." - -"And what is your work, Miss Baird?" - -"I am employed as a social secretary by Mrs. Amos Parsons," she -replied, concisely. "I am with her from nine in the morning until four -in the afternoon." - -"Only on week days?" - -"Yes. I have Sunday to myself." - -"And how did you spend last Sunday, Miss Baird?" - -"I went to church in the morning." - -"Alone?" - -"No. Major Leigh Wallace accompanied me." - -"Did Major Wallace return to your house with you?" - -"No." - -The curtly spoken monosyllable brought a sharp glance from the coroner, -of which she appeared unaware. - -"At what hour did you reach your house, Miss Baird?" he asked. - -"After church--" she considered a moment. "To be exact, about a quarter -of one." - -"Did you and your aunt lunch alone?" - -"Yes. We had no guests," briefly. - -"And what did you do after luncheon?" - -"It wasn't luncheon, it was dinner," she explained. "I went upstairs -almost immediately after it was served, and changed my dress -preparatory to going out." - -"When did you last see your aunt alive?" asked Penfield. - -"As I was leaving the house," Kitty spoke more hurriedly, "I looked -into her bedroom and called out 'Good-by!'" - -"Miss Baird," Penfield let his eyeglasses dangle from their ribbon and -stood up. "Was your aunt expecting guests at tea on Sunday afternoon?" - -"I am sure she was not," she replied. "Aunt Susan always asked me to -arrange the tea table if she had invited any of her friends to come and -see her. She was, eh, formal and insisted that her guests be given tea -when they called." - -"Was it your aunt's custom to drink tea every afternoon whether she had -guests or not?" - -"Oh, yes. She had a spirit lamp and a tea caddy in the library, -and made tea for herself," Kitty responded. "But if any friends -were coming she insisted always that the table be especially -arranged--sandwiches--and all that," a trifle vaguely. Kitty was -growing tired of answering questions which appeared to lead nowhere. - -Coroner Penfield picked up several sheets of paper and thumbed them -over until he came to a penciled memorandum. - -"There were two sandwiches and some peaches on the tea table in front -of your aunt," he remarked. "Who prepared those sandwiches?" - -For the second time Kitty colored hotly. "The sandwiches were left over -from some I made on Saturday when Aunt Susan entertained Mrs. Amos -Parsons at tea." - -"And the peaches--" questioned Penfield. - -"I don't know where Aunt Susan got the peaches," she said, with a quick -shrug of her shoulders. "Probably Oscar brought them to her on Sunday -morning when I was out. He knew her fondness for them." - -"Did you not always know what supplies you had in your larder?" - -"Why, no." With a lift of her eyebrows. "Oscar did the marketing." - -Penfield laid down the papers in his hand. "Was your aunt in her normal -health on Sunday?" he asked. - -"Apparently so; I never observed any change in her." - -"Had she complained of illness recently?" - -"No. On the contrary, she seemed brighter and more cheerful during the -past ten days," Kitty answered. - -"Was she ever despondent?" - -"No," promptly. "She always looked on the bright side of things. I--" -with a fleeting smile--"I was the pessimist of the family." - -"I see." Coroner Penfield regarded her thoughtfully. She looked -barely out of her 'teens,' and hers was certainly not the face of a -pessimist--youth, good health, and good looks did not conspire to a -gloomy outlook on life. "Who were your aunt's intimate friends?" - -"Do you mean women of her own age?" - -"Yes; of her age, and also of yours." - -Kitty debated the question thoughtfully before answering it. "Not many -of Aunt Susan's old friends are alive," she said. "Aunty had just -passed her seventieth birthday. She liked all my friends." - -"_All?_" - -"Yes." Kitty regarded him steadfastly. She had noted the emphasis on -the word "all." A moment passed before the coroner addressed her again. - -"Miss Baird, have you unlimited telephone service?" - -"Why, yes." Kitty's tone expressed surprise. "We have always had -unlimited service." - -Penfield paused and wrote a few lines on his memorandum pad. When he -spoke, his voice had gained an added seriousness. - -"Were you and your aunt always on the best of terms?" he asked. - -Kitty sat erect and her hands dropped on the arms of her chair. - -"Your question is impertinent," she said cuttingly, and, in spite of -himself, Penfield flushed. - -"I insist upon an answer," he retorted. "A truthful answer." - -"Dr. Penfield!" Kitty rose. - -"Be seated, Madam. A witness cannot leave until dismissed by the -coroner." Penfield spoke with unwonted severity. "I will change my -question. What did you and Miss Baird quarrel about on Sunday?" - -"Quarrel?" - -"Yes, Madam, quarrel. Your servant, Oscar, overheard you." - -Kitty's bright color had flown. With eyes expressing her scorn, she -threw back her head defiantly. - -"Ask Oscar," she suggested. "Servants' gossip may prove -diverting--whether truthful or not." - -Penfield watched her for an intolerable moment. Kitty's breath was -coming unevenly when he finally spoke. - -"You are excused, Miss Baird," he stated briefly, and turned to the -Morgue Master. "Summon Mrs. Benjamin Potter, Hume," he directed. - -Kitty's sudden dismissal by the coroner was a shock to the reporters -as well as to the spectators, and they watched her leave the room with -undisguised curiosity and disappointment. Were they to be cheated out -of a sensational scene? Why had not Coroner Penfield pressed home his -question? - -Nina Potter's entrance cut short speculation and the reporters -watched her take her place in the witness chair with renewed hope. -Her self-possessed air was a surprise to Ted Rodgers, who secretly -considered her a bundle of nerves. She looked extremely pretty -and Coroner Penfield watched her admiringly as the oath was being -administered. From his seat on the second row, Ben Potter leaned -against Rodgers, regardless of the latter's discomfort, in his endeavor -to get an uninterrupted view of his wife. - -"Mrs. Potter," Coroner Penfield had again resumed his seat. "What -relation are you to Miss Katrina Baird?" - -"No relation, except by marriage." Her voice, though low, held a -carrying quality, and reached the ears of all in the room. "My husband -is her second cousin." - -"Have you known her long?" - -"Since my marriage to her cousin, six months ago," briefly. - -"Did you know her aunt, Miss Susan Baird?" - -"Oh, yes, very well. We frequently took Sunday dinner with them." - -"Did you ever hear Miss Susan Baird express a dislike for any -particular person?" - -Nina shook her head, while a faint smile drew down the corners of her -pretty mouth. "Miss Susan disliked a great many people," she said. "Me, -among them. In fact, I never heard her make a complimentary remark -about any one." - -Penfield looked taken aback. "Miss Baird was eccentric, was she not?" - -"Yes, not to say odd." - -"Exactly what do you mean?" - -Nina raised her eyebrows and pursed up her mouth before answering. - -"If Miss Baird was calling upon friends and liked the tea cakes, she -would open her bag and pour the cakes into it," she explained. "If she -was shopping downtown and grew weary, she would look about and if she -saw a motor car belonging to any of her friends waiting at the curb, -she would inform the chauffeur he was to take her home. And--" Mrs. -Potter's smile was most engaging, "Miss Baird always got her own way." - -"Until her death--" dryly. "It looked as if some one balked her there." - -"Yes--and who was that some one?" questioned Mrs. Potter sweetly. - -Coroner Penfield concealed his annoyance under a pretense of hunting -for a pencil among the papers on his table. While listening intently -to the dialogue between Penfield and Mrs. Potter, Ted Rodgers had -grown aware that Ben Potter was gnawing his nails. Rodgers loathed -small noises. He was about to remonstrate when Potter leaned back and -whispered in his ear: - -"I always told you Nina was clever; bless her heart!" - -Rodgers attempted no reply as he waited for Coroner Penfield's next -question. - -"Did Miss Kitty Baird spend Sunday night at your apartment, Mrs. -Potter?" asked Penfield. - -"She did," with quiet emphasis. "She came in time to help me serve tea -in my husband's studio, stayed to dinner, and retired early. We had -breakfast at nine o'clock, after which she returned to Georgetown." - -"That is all, Mrs. Potter, thank you," and Penfield assisted her down -the steps, then turned aside to speak to Hume. "Recall Oscar Jackson," -he said. - -Mrs. Potter had almost reached the door when it opened to admit Major -Leigh Wallace. He failed to see her in his hurry to secure a seat -vacated by an elderly woman who was just leaving and brushed by without -greeting. Nina's pretty color had vanished when she reached her motor -parked near the Morgue. She did not start the engine, however, upon -entering the car but sat waiting with untiring patience for the inquest -to adjourn. - -Nina's exit from the court room had been closely watched by two pairs -of eyes. When Rodgers turned to speak to Potter, he found him sitting -well back in his chair, and his whole attention centered on Major Leigh -Wallace. The latter, entirely oblivious of the identity of the men -and women about him, sat regarding the coroner and the jury while his -restless fingers rolled a swagger stick held upright between the palms -of his hands. - -Coroner Penfield hardly allowed the old negro servant time to take his -seat again in the witness chair, before addressing him. - -"What were Miss Baird and her niece, Miss Kitty, quarreling about on -Sunday?" he asked. - -"W-w-what yo' ax?" Oscar's breath, such as he had left after his -exertions in reaching the platform, deserted him, and he stared in dumb -surprise at the coroner. - -"You have testified that you overheard Miss Baird and her niece -quarreling," Penfield spoke slowly and with emphasis. "What were they -quarreling about? Come," as the old man remained silent. "We are -awaiting your answer." - -"Yessir." Oscar ducked his head, and the whites of his eyes showed -plainly as he rolled them in fright, first toward the jury and then -toward the coroner. "Yessir, 'twarn't much of a fuss; leastways, it -might o' been wuss, but Miss Kitty, she done jes' walk upstairs." - -"What was it about?" insisted Penfield. - -"Well 'er," Oscar fingered his worn cap nervously. "Miss Susan, she -didn't think much of some of Miss Kitty's beaux--jes' didn't want her -to get married nohow--'specially that there Major Wallace. An' she ups -an' tells Miss Kitty she mus' get rid o' him, or she would--" - -"Would what--?" - -"Git rid o' him," explained Oscar. "Miss Susan jes' despised him, even -if he did lay himself out to please her." - -"Was Major Wallace there on Sunday?" inquired the coroner. - -"No, Sah." With vigorous emphasis. "The Major ain't been there for mos' -two weeks. Miss Susan and him had words." - -"Ah, indeed. When?" - -"'Bout two weeks ago, p'r'aps longer. Major Wallace kep' callin', an' -Miss Susan up an' tole him Miss Kitty couldn't be bothered with his -company." Oscar came to a breathless pause. He had caught sight of -a man leaving his seat and recognized Major Leigh Wallace. The next -second the door had opened and closed behind Wallace's retreating -figure. - -Penfield's stern voice recalled Oscar's wandering wits. - -"Did you do the marketing on Saturday, Oscar?" he asked. - -"Yes, Sah." Oscar spoke more cheerfully at the change of the topic. - -"Did you buy some peaches for Miss Baird?" - -"Deed, I didn't, Sah. Miss Susan hadn't no money to buy peaches at dis -time o' year," Oscar's voice expressed astonishment. "Dis hyar month am -March." - -"We have them from California." Penfield was growing impatient, and his -manner stiffened as he faced the old negro. "Who purchased the peaches -which Miss Baird was eating just before she died?" - -"I dunno, Sah; honest to God, I dunno." Oscar shook a puzzled head. "I -was flabbergasted to see them peaches on the tea table. They weren't in -the house when I was gettin' dinner, an' they weren't there when I left -after servin' dinner." - -"Is that so?" Penfield stared at Oscar. The black face of the negro was -as shiny as a billiard ball and about as expressionless. "That is all, -Oscar, you may retire." - -Hardly waiting for the servant to descend the steps, Penfield turned to -the deputy coroner whose busy pen had been transcribing the notes of -the inquest. - -"Dr. Fisher, take the stand," he directed, and waited in silence while -he was being sworn. - -"You performed the autopsy, Doctor?" he asked. - -"I did, Sir, in the presence of the Morgue Master and Dr. Leonard -McLean," responded the deputy coroner. - -"State the results of the autopsy." - -"We found on investigation of the gastric contents that death was due -to prussic acid, the most active of poisons," Fisher replied, with -blunt directness. "There was no other cause of death, as from the -condition of her body, we found Miss Baird, in spite of her age, did -not suffer from any organic disease." - -The silence lengthened in the court room. Penfield did not seem in -haste to put the next question and the suspense deepened. - -"Can you estimate how long a time must have elapsed between Miss Baird -taking the poison and her death?" he asked finally. - -"Between two and five minutes, judging from the amount of poison in her -system," responded Fisher. - -"Can you tell us how the poison was administered, Doctor?" questioned -Penfield. "Did you analyze the contents of the tea pot and cup?" - -"Yes. No trace of poison was in either the cup or the teapot." Fisher -spoke with deliberation, conscious that his words were listened to with -breathless interest. "There was on her plate a half-eaten peach on -which still remained enough poison to kill several persons." - -Penfield broke the tense pause. - -"Have you any idea, Doctor, how the poison got on the peach?" - -"On examination we found that drops of prussic acid still remained -on the fruit knife used to cut the peach." Fisher hesitated a brief -instant, then continued, "The poison had been put on one side of the -knife-blade only." - -"You mean--" - -"That whoever ate the other portion of the peach was not poisoned." - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -MRS. PARSONS HAS CALLERS - - - CORONER'S INQUEST RETURNS - OPEN VERDICT - - Miss Susan Baird Killed by Party or - Parties Unknown - -Mrs. Amos Parsons laid down her evening newspaper and stared at her own -reflection in the upright, silver-framed mirror standing on the table -by her side. So absorbing were her thoughts that she did not observe a -velvet-footed servant remove the tea tray and carry off the soiled cups -and saucers. The French clock on the high mantel of the drawing room -had ticked away fully ten minutes before she stirred. With an indolent -gesture of her hands, eminently characteristic, she dropped them in her -lap and let her body relax against the tufted chair back. Her mirror -told her that she needed rest; the deep shadows under her eyes and -her unusual pallor both emphasized the same story. She was very, very -weary. - -"Beg pardon, Madam." The velvet-footed butler was back in the room -again, silver salver in hand. "A gentleman to see you." - -Mrs. Parsons picked up the small visiting card and adjusting her -lorgnette, inspected the engraved lettering it bore. - - MR. BENJAMIN POTTER - Cosmos Club - -"Where is Mr. Potter?" she asked. - -"In the reception room downstairs, madam. He said he was in a great -hurry, Madam," as she remained silent. "He asked particularly to see -you." - -"Very well; show him up. Wait--" as the servant started for the -doorway. "Bring Mr. Potter upstairs in the lift." - -"Very good, Madam," and, a second later, Mrs. Parsons was alone in her -drawing room. - -Leaning forward, she looked about the beautifully furnished room, then, -convinced that she was its only occupant, she opened her vanity case -and selecting a lip-stick, applied it, and added a touch of rouge. -Lastly a powder-puff removed all outward traces of restless hours and -weary waiting. She had just time to slip the puff and lip-stick inside -her vanity box before the porti�res parted and Ben Potter hastened into -the room. He stopped his rapid stride on catching sight of her and -advanced more leisurely. - -"Good evening, Cecilia," he said, and paused in front of her. - -She appeared not to see his half-extended hand, as she laid down her -cigarette. - -"Ah, Ben," she remarked dryly. "I see that you still believe in the -efficacy of a bribe." - -"If it is big enough," composedly. "Your servant said you had denied -yourself to callers so--_voil� tout_." - -"And why this desire to see me?" - -Potter did not reply at once; instead, he scrutinized her intently. -She was well worth a second glance. Her type of face belonged to the -Eighteenth Century, and as she sat in her high-backed chair, her -prematurely grey hair, artistically arranged, in pretty contrast to -her delicately arched eyebrows, she resembled a French marquise of the -court of Louis XIV. She bore Potter's penetrating gaze with undisturbed -composure. He was the first to shift his glance. - -"Suppose I take a chair and we talk things over," he suggested. "You -are not very cordial-to-night." - -Mrs. Parsons smiled ironically. "Take a chair by all means; that one -by the door looks substantial. Now," as he dragged it over and placed -it directly in front of her. "I will repeat my question--why do you -wish to see me?" - -"You ask that--and a newspaper by your side!" Potter pointed -contemptuously at the paper lying on the floor. "Have you seen Kitty -Baird since the inquest?" - -Mrs. Parsons shook her head. "There was hardly time for her to get -here; besides she must be very weary, not to say--unstrung." She held -out her cigarette case, but Potter waved it away, making no effort -politely to restrain his impatience. "So dear Miss Susan Baird was -poisoned after all." - -"And why 'after all'?" swiftly. "Why '_dear_ Miss Susan'?" - -A shrug of her shapely shoulders answered him. "You are always so -intense, Ben," she remarked. "Why _not_ 'dear Miss Susan'? Had you any -reason to dislike your cousin?" - -"Had any one any reason to like her?" he asked gruffly. "You don't need -to be told that." His smile had little mirth in it. "The poor soul is -dead--murdered." He looked at her queerly. "How much does Kitty see of -Major Leigh Wallace?" - -Mrs. Parsons selected another cigarette with care. "So that is the -reason I am honored by a visit from you." Tossing back her head, she -inspected him from head to foot. "How am I qualified to answer your -question? I am not Kitty's guardian." - -"No, but you are her employer," with quiet emphasis. "And Major Wallace -is a frequent caller here." - -"Is he?" Her smile was enigmatical. "May I ask the reason of your -sudden interest in Major Wallace?" - -Potter colored hotly. "That is my affair," he retorted. "Were you at -the Baird inquest this morning?" - -"No." - -"Have you read the newspaper account of it?" - -"Yes." - -"And what is your opinion?" - -She shook her head. "I have formed none." - -"Oh, come!" Potter smiled skeptically, then frowned. "Kitty must be -safeguarded," he announced with gruff abruptness. - -"From Major Wallace?--" - -"Perhaps--" - -She considered him a moment in silence. Potter's big frame did not show -to best advantage in his sack suit which betrayed the need of sponging -and pressing. The naturalist seldom gave a thought to his personal -appearance. - -"How is your wife?" she asked. - -Potter started a trifle at the abrupt question. - -"Quite well," he replied. "But a bit fagged after the inquest. She was -one of the witnesses, you know." - -"And you--" - -"I was not called by the coroner," shortly. "Ted Rodgers and I sat -together in the court room. He's a good chap, Ted--promised Kitty to -help trace her aunt's murderer." - -The pupils of Mrs. Parsons' eyes contracted. "I did not realize that -they were on such terms of intimacy," she remarked, and her voice had -grown sharper. "Do you think Mr. Rodgers will have a difficult task?" - -Potter ran his fingers through his untidy grey hair. "That remains to -be seen," he replied. "So far, all that we know is that my cousin, Miss -Susan Baird, was poisoned with prussic acid." - -"Is that all the police know?" she questioned rapidly. - -He did not answer immediately, his attention apparently centered on the -newspaper which lay folded so that the headlines were in view: - - Coroner's Inquest Returns Open Verdict - -"It is all that the police will admit knowing," he said at last. "I -must remind you that you have not answered my question: how often does -Kitty see Major Wallace?" - -"I am unable to tell you." There was a touch of insolence in her manner -and his eyes sparkled with anger. "I do not keep tab on Kitty--" their -glances crossed--"and I don't intend to." - -Potter hesitated a second, then rose. "It was good of you to see me," -he announced. His tone was perfunctory. "My interest in Kitty prompted -the visit." He stooped over and picked up a glove which had slipped -from his restless fingers to the floor. "Good-by. Don't trouble to ring -for James; I know my way out." - -But Mrs. Parsons was already half across the room and her finger -touched the electric button with some force. James was a trifle out of -breath when he reached them. - -"Take Mr. Potter down in the lift," she directed. "Good evening, Ben," -and with a slight, graceful gesture, she dismissed him. - -Once more back in her chair Mrs. Parsons settled down in comfort and -permitted her thoughts to wander far afield. It was not often that she -allowed herself to dwell on the past. - -"So Ted Rodgers is taking a hand in the game," she murmured, -unconscious that she spoke aloud. "And Ben Potter is interested -in--Kitty." Putting back her head, she laughed heartily. She was still -chuckling to herself when James, the butler, came in to announce -dinner. - -Dinner with Mrs. Parsons was a formal affair even when alone, and she -looked with approval at the spotless linen, the burnished silver, and -glittering glass. She thoroughly appreciated her butler's taste in -table decoration. Domestic troubles, which vexed other women, never -touched her household. She had one theory which she always put into -practice--to pay her servants just a little more than her neighbors -gave their domestics, and it was seldom that they left her employ. - -Washington society had found that Mrs. Parsons was wealthy enough -to indulge in her whims, and, bringing, as she did, letters of -introduction from far-off California to influential residents of the -national Capital, she had been entertained at houses to which newcomers -frequently waited for years to gain the _entr�e_. Well gowned, handsome -rather than pretty, quick of wit, Mrs. Parsons soon attained a place -for herself in the kaleidoscopic life of the cosmopolitan city, and, -giving up her suite of rooms at the New Willard had, three months -before, purchased a house on fashionable Wyoming Avenue. - -On taking possession of what she termed her _maisonnette_, Mrs. Parsons -decided that she had need of a social secretary. Kitty Baird had been -highly recommended for the post by Charles Craige, and, after much -urging on the part of both Mrs. Parsons and her godfather, Kitty had -resigned her clerkship in the Department of State, which she had held -during the World War, and taken up her secretarial duties. - -And Kitty had been of genuine aid to her employer, as Mrs. Parsons -acknowledged to herself if to no one else--she was chary of spoken -praise. Kitty had not only an accurate knowledge of social life in -Washington, having enjoyed belleship since her first "tea dance" -at Rauscher's which one of her aunt's old friends had given in her -honor, but possessed unbounded tact and a kindly heart. Her aunt, Miss -Susan Baird, had seen to it that she was well educated and thoroughly -grounded in French and German. Having a natural gift for languages, -Kitty had put her early training to good account in her war work as a -translator and code expert. - -To James' secret distress, Mrs. Parsons partook but indifferently of -the deliciously cooked dinner, even refusing dessert which, to his -mind, was inexplicable. - -"Has Miss Kitty Baird telephoned at any time to-day?" she asked, laying -down her napkin. - -"No, Madam." James concealed his surprise. It was not like Mrs. Parsons -to repeat herself, and to his best recollection, and he had a good -memory, she had asked that same question at least a dozen times. "Will -you have coffee served in the drawing room, Madam?" - -"I don't care for coffee to-night, thanks." Mrs. Parsons picked up her -scarf and rose. "Tell Anton that if any one calls this evening, I am at -home." - -"Very good, Madam," and James held back the porti�res for her as she -left the room. - -Mrs. Parsons did not return to the drawing room: instead she made her -way to the "den" at the end of the hall, a pretty square room, which -served as a lounge and library. Once there she paused by the telephone -stand and laid her hand on the instrument. - -"West, 789." She was forced to repeat the number several times before -Central got it correctly. - -There was a brief wait, then came the answer, "Line disconnected, -ma'am," and she heard Central ring off. Mrs. Parsons put down the -instrument in bewildered surprise. "Why had Kitty Baird's telephone -been disconnected?" She was still considering the puzzle as she -rearranged some "bridesmaids' roses" in a vase. By it lay a note in -Charles Craige's fine penmanship. Picking up the note, Mrs. Parsons -read it for perhaps the twentieth time. - -It ran: - - My precious Cecelia: - - I am disconsolate that I cannot dine with you to-night. I have - promised to see Kitty--poor girl, she needs all the sympathy and help - we can give her. Miss me just a little and I shall be contented. My - thoughts are with you always. - - Ever faithfully, - Charles Craige. - -"Beg pardon, Madam." James the obsequious stood in the room, card tray -in hand. "Major Leigh Wallace is waiting for you in the drawing room." - -Mrs. Parsons folded the note and slipped it inside her knitting bag. -"Ask Major Wallace to come here," she said, pausing to switch on a -floor lamp, the light from which cast a becoming glow on her as she -selected a chair beside it, and took up her embroidery. - -"Ah, Leigh, good evening," she exclaimed a moment later as the young -officer stood by her. "Have you come to make your peace with me?" - -"In what way have I offended?" Wallace asked. - -"You were so rude to one of my guests at my tea yesterday." Mrs. -Parsons watched him as he made himself comfortable in a dainty settee -under the lamp. - -"Rude to one of your guests? Impossible!" ejaculated Wallace in -surprise. "To whom do you refer?" - -"Nina Potter." Mrs. Parsons had not taken her eyes off him, and she -caught the sudden shifting of his gaze. "Why are you and she no longer -friendly?" - -"You are mistaken." Wallace spoke stiffly. "We are--I am still a great -admirer of hers--" - -"And Kitty--" - -Wallace flushed to the roots of his sandy hair. "Kitty never had very -much use for me," he admitted, rather bitterly. "She--she--seems to be -tired--" - -"Of being a cat's paw?" - -"Mrs. Parsons!" Wallace was on his feet, his eyes snapping with anger. - -"Don't go," Mrs. Parsons' smile was ingratiating. "Forgive me if I -blunder, Leigh. Sometimes an outsider sees most of the game. Will you -take a friendly piece of advice--" - -"Surely," but Wallace was slow in reseating himself. - -"Then avoid Ben Potter." Mrs. Parsons picked up her neglected -embroidery, and did not trouble to glance at her guest. - -Wallace's attempt at a laugh was something of a failure. "I saw Potter -an hour ago at the club," he volunteered. "He told me that he and his -wife were leaving for New York to-night." - -"Indeed." Mrs. Parsons held her needle nearer the light and threaded it -with deft fingers. "Is Kitty Baird going with them?" - -"I believe not." Wallace moved a trifle and shaded his face with his -hand. "I've just come from 'Rose Hill.'" - -"And how is Kitty? Did you see her?" Mrs. Parsons spoke with such -rapidity that her questions ran together. - -"No." Wallace compressed his lips. "She sent down word that she begged -to be excused." - -"Oh!" Mrs. Parsons lowered her embroidery and regarded her companion. -He looked wretchedly ill, and the haggard lines were deeper than ever. -For a man of his height and breadth of shoulder, he seemed to have -shrunken, for his clothes appeared to hang upon him. Dwelling on his -ill-health would not tend to lessen Wallace's nervous condition, and -Mrs. Parsons omitted personalities. "Were you at the Baird inquest?" -she inquired. - -"Yes, that is, I got there late--" stumbling somewhat in his speech. -"Why don't you go and see Kitty, Cecelia? That house of hers is sort of -ghastly--" - -"For any one who suffers from nerves," she put in, and he flushed at -the irony of her tone, "Kitty has plenty of courage. I--" she smiled. -"I am inclined to think that Kitty has inherited some of her aunt's -prejudices--" - -"She couldn't inherit any likes--that abominable aunt of hers hated -everybody." Wallace spoke with such bitter feeling that Mrs. Parsons -restrained a smile with difficulty. - -"Poor Kitty," her tone was full of sympathy. "I am glad she has Ted -Rodgers to lean on." - -Wallace flushed angrily. "He's the one who has made all the trouble," -he began. "If it hadn't been for his--" - -"What?" as Wallace came to an abrupt halt. - -"Oh, nothing." Wallace beat the devil's tattoo on the chair arm. "I -must be going, Cecelia. It's a beastly bore having to turn in early, -but I must obey the doctor's orders." - -"You certainly should take better care of yourself." Mrs. Parsons -walked with Wallace to the door of the room. The house was an English -basement in design, and as they came to the top of the flight of -steps leading to the ground floor, Wallace held out his hand. It felt -feverish to the touch and Mrs. Parsons regarded him with growing -concern. "Stop and see Dr. McLean on your way home," she advised. - -"I'm all right." Wallace laughed recklessly. "Don't worry, I take a lot -of killing. Good night." And, squeezing her hand until the pressure -forced her rings into the tender skin, he released it and ran down the -steps. - -Mrs. Parsons lingered long enough to hear James assisting Wallace into -his overcoat and then went thoughtfully into her drawing room. The -footman had left one of the window shades up and Mrs. Parsons paused -to pull it down. The street was well lighted from the electric lamp -opposite her doorway, and, as she stood idly looking out of the window, -she saw Major Leigh Wallace start to cross the street, hesitate at -the curb, turn to his left and walk eastward. He had gone but a short -distance when Mrs. Parsons saw a man slip out from the doorway of -the next house and start down the street after Wallace. Halfway down -the block Wallace crossed the street and without glancing backward -continued on his way, his shadow at his heels. - -Mrs. Parsons watched them out of sight, her eyes big with suppressed -excitement. When she finally pulled down the window shade her hand was -not quite steady. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -THE CASE OF THE GILA MONSTER - - -Unaware that he had a place in Mrs. Parsons' meditations as well as in -her conversation with Major Leigh Wallace, Ted Rogers parked his car -near the entrance to "Rose Hill." His ring at the front door bell was -answered by Mandy, the ebony shadow of Oscar, her husband. - -"Kin yo' see Miss Kitty?" She repeated the question after him. "Why, I -'spect yo' kin, Mister Rodgers. Jes' step inside, Sah, an' I'll go find -Miss Kitty." - -Closing the front door and putting up the night latch with much -jingling, Mandy led Rodgers down the hall to the entrance of the -library. - -"The lamps am lighted in hyar," she said by way of explanation. "Ole -Miss never used to let Miss Kitty have a light in de odder rooms on -dis flo', cept when Oscar was a-servin' dinner. An' we all got so we -jes' never thought o' carryin' a lamp into de parlor. Make yo'self -comfortable, Sah, I'll tell Miss Kitty an' she'll be down terec'ly." - -With a word of thanks Rodgers passed the old servant and entered -the library. The light from the two oil lamps was supplemented by a -cheerful fire in the brick chimney at the farther end of the room, -and its cheerful glow did much to dispel the dreary atmosphere which -prevailed. - -Rodgers did not at once sit down. Instead he paused in the center of -the library and gravely regarded the tea table and the throne-shaped -chair where he had frequently seen Miss Susan Baird sitting when -entertaining guests at tea. He had a retentive memory, and as his eyes -roved about the library, he pieced out the scene of the discovery of -the dead woman as described on the witness stand by Inspector Mitchell. - -As far as Rodgers could judge, no change had been made in the room, -except in the arrangement of the tea table. The soiled dishes and tea -cups had been removed, the tea service cleaned and put back, and the -fruit dish, of Royal Dresden china of ancient pattern, was empty. -Forgetful of the passing time, he wandered about examining with keen -attention the fine oil paintings of dead and gone Bairds, the camels' -hair shawls which had been converted into porti�res, the Persian rugs -on the hardwood floor. What matter that all showed traces of wear and -tear? The room was cleanliness personified. - -Genteel poverty--his surroundings cried of it. Rodgers thought, with -a tightening of his heart-strings, of Kitty's brave endeavor to keep -up the old home and provide her aunt with every comfort within her -means. And her aunt had been murdered. Murdered! He shook his head in -bewilderment. What possible motive could have inspired such a crime? -Who would murder a poverty-stricken old woman? Avarice--where was the -gain? Revenge--for what? Hate--why hate a feeble old woman? There -remained robbery as a possible motive. Could it be that? - -Rodgers crossed over to the "Dutch" door and examined it with interest. -Neither its lock nor its solid panels gave indication of having been -forced open. From the door his attention passed to the three small -windows, placed just under the flooring of the gallery; they appeared -tightly closed and resisted his efforts to move them. The library -gained its chief light in the daytime from the skylight and the windows -opening upon the gallery. - -Turning around, Rodgers stood hesitating, his head slightly bent to -catch the faintest sound. He had heard, some moments before, Mandy's -halting footsteps as she came limping down the staircase, then along -the hall to the basement stairs, and the shutting of the door after -her descending figure. He looked at his watch; ten minutes had elapsed -since his arrival and still Kitty had not appeared. Surely she would -have sent word by Mandy if she had not wished him to wait? He took from -his pocket a crumpled note and smoothed it out. The act had become a -habit. He did not need to read the few lines penned on the paper--he -knew them by heart. - - Come to-night. I must see you. K. B. - -He had obeyed the summons eagerly. Kitty had asked him to find out who -killed her aunt. And the inquest had brought out what?--that Miss Susan -Baird had come to her death through poison administered by a party or -parties unknown. It had also disclosed the fact that the last person -to see Miss Susan alive was Kitty Baird, and Oscar had testified that -aunt and niece had quarreled that fatal Sunday afternoon--over Major -Leigh Wallace. Rodgers whitened at the thought. Were Kitty and Wallace -really engaged, as he had been given to understand by no less a person -than Ben Potter? If so, he cut a sorry figure dancing attendance upon -Kitty. She had grown to be all in all to him. It was a case of the moth -and the candle. Rodgers smiled wryly; he could not tear himself away, -even if he would, and she had asked him to aid her! Rodgers squared -his shoulders. As soon as the mystery of Miss Susan Baird's death was -solved, he would leave Washington and give Wallace a clear field. Kitty -was entitled to happiness. - -Tired of inaction, harassed by his thought, Rodgers tramped about the -room and finally paused in front of the fireplace. Mouchette, Kitty's -Angora cat, rolled over at his approach and yawned sleepily. She had -awakened at his entrance, but the comfort of an excellent dinner and -the heat of the fire had proven too strong to keep her awake, and she -had curled up again and gone to sleep. - -The hearth was set far back and two benches were framed on either hand -by the walls of the chimney. They looked inviting, and, after giving -Mouchette a final pat, Rodgers dropped down on one of the benches, his -broad back braced across the corner of the wall, while his long legs -were stretched out toward the fire burning so briskly on the hearth. He -watched the play of the firelight with unconscious intensity, his mind -picturing Kitty's alluring personality. A log broke and as the burning -embers struck the hearth, sparks flew out and upward. One landed on -the bench on which Rodgers was sitting and he leaned forward to knock -it back upon the hearth. As his hand struck the bench a glancing blow, -he felt the wood give and the next instant he was gazing into a small -hole. - -Rodgers stared at it in deep surprise. Bending closer he saw that he -must have touched a concealed spring which released the trap-door. -It was not a large cavity into which he peered, hardly a foot deep -and about six inches square, or so he judged in the fitful glow of -the fire. He sat for a moment perfectly still, then drawing out his -matchbox, struck a light and held it carefully so that its rays fell -directly into the small hole. It was empty except for a medium-sized -brass key to which was tied a small tag. Bending nearer, he made out -the scrawled lines with some difficulty: - - This key unlocks the inside drawer of the highboy in the blue room on - the fourth floor. - -A bell reverberating through the silent house caused Rodgers to spring -up and look into the hall, in time to see Mandy emerge from behind -the door leading to the basement stairs and make her way to the front -of the house. A murmur of voices reached Rodgers, then a firm tread -sounded down the uncarpeted hall, and parting the porti�res Charles -Craige walked into the library. - -"Hello, Rodgers," he exclaimed in hearty greeting. "Mandy told me that -you were here. Have you seen Kitty?" - -"Not yet." Rodgers shook Craige's hand with vigor. He had grown to -like and admire the brilliant lawyer whose many acts of kindness had -added to the enjoyment of his visit. Besides, and Rodgers' eyes glowed, -was he not Kitty's godfather! - -"Trust Kitty to keep a man waiting," and Craige smiled as he spoke, -then grew grave. "This is a devilish bad business--not to say shocking. -Poor Susan--the last person in the world whose death would have been of -benefit to any one, and yet she was murdered." - -"If we are to believe the medical evidence, yes," replied Rodgers. -"Poison can be administered with murderous intent, but we must also -remember that it can be taken with the intent to commit suicide." - -"True." Craige chose a seat at some distance from the throne-shaped -chair. "But I cannot associate either murder or suicide with Susan. -I tell you, Rodgers, Susan had an intense desire to live, and I can -conceive of no one wishing for her death sufficiently to face the -gallows." - -"But the fact remains that she either did away with herself or was -cold-bloodedly murdered," retorted Rodgers. - -Craige nodded his head moodily. "If murder, it was cold-blooded, -premeditated murder," he agreed. "Hush, here comes Kitty." - -A door had opened on the gallery and Kitty appeared from her bedroom, -stood for a moment hesitating, then hurrying forward she almost ran -down the short flight of steps to the library. She paused by the newel -post as both men advanced to meet her. - -"I am so glad you are here," she exclaimed, extending her hands -impulsively to each. "It has been so dreadful--alone." - -Craige laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder and patted her gently as -he kissed her. "We understand," he said. "Now, what can we do for you?" - -Rodgers, who still held Kitty's hand in both of his, released it -reluctantly. He was slow of speech, but his eyes, meeting Kitty's gaze, -conveyed a message all their own. As Kitty preceded them across the -library, a warm blush mantled her cheeks. - -"Sit here, Miss Baird." Rodgers placed a chair for her near the chimney -while Craige pulled forward two others. Grateful for the warmth from -the fire, for her bedroom was insufficiently heated, Kitty stretched -out her hands to the blaze. - -"Why is your telephone disconnected, Kitty?" asked Craige, after a -brief silence which neither Kitty or Rodgers made any attempt to break. - -"We were deluged with calls," she explained. "Especially the newspaper -reporters." She shivered slightly. "They gave Mandy no rest." - -"But to cut yourself off from your friends, Kitty, was that wise?" -chided Craige gently. "No one could reach you--I tried and failed." - -"It did not stop your coming over to ask for me," she put in -gratefully. "Ben and Nina Potter stopped for a second before dinner. -They left for New York to-night." - -"Indeed?" Craige frowned. "They should have remained here with you," -noting with concern the dark shadows under her eyes and the forlorn -droop to her usually erect shoulders. "You must not stay here alone." - -"But I am not alone," she protested. "Dear, faithful Mandy is with me." - -Craige shook his head, unsatisfied. "Mandy is an ignorant colored -woman, old at that," he remarked. "You must have companionship--woman's -companionship of your own class. Why not ask Cecilia Parsons?" - -"Oh, I would not think of asking her," Kitty objected quickly. "She is -so--so sensitive, so--" hunting about for the proper word. "Oh, the -house, all this--would get frightfully on her nerves." - -At mention of Mrs. Parsons' name, Rodgers glanced from one to the -other, finally letting his gaze rest on the lawyer's kindly, clever -face. He had heard the rumor connecting the pretty widow's name with -Charles Craige, and that reports of their engagement persisted, in -spite of Mrs. Parsons' laughing denial and Craige's skillfully evasive -answers to all questions on the subject. - -"As you please, Kitty," replied Craige. "But I think that you are wrong -not to ask Mrs. Parsons. She would not hesitate to tell you if she did -not wish to come. She is frankness itself." - -Kitty raised her eyebrows and a ghost of a smile crossed her lips. -"Mrs. Parsons is always most kind," she remarked, "but I prefer not to -tax her friendship." - -The look Craige cast in her direction was a bit sharp, and with some -abruptness he changed the subject. - -"Were you wise to have your aunt's body put in the vault this -afternoon, Kitty?" he asked. "Did you not overtax your strength? You -look so utterly weary." - -"I am stronger than I appear." Kitty passed her hand across her eyes. -"I could see no object in waiting. Coroner Penfield suggested that we -have simple funeral ceremonies immediately after the inquest. I tried -to get word to you, but failed. It was but prolonging the agony to -wait--" with a catch in her throat, "there was nothing to be gained by -waiting. It would not bring her back. Oh, poor Aunt Susan!" And bowing -her head Kitty gave vent to the tears she had held back for many, many -hours. - -Rodgers watched her in unhappy silence. Could he find nothing to -say--do nothing to comfort her? He half rose impulsively to his -feet--caught Craige's eye and sat down again. Craige leaned forward and -put his arms about the weeping girl and soothed her with loving words. -When she grew more composed, he rose and paced up and down the library. - -"Had I not better call Mandy and let her put you to bed, Kitty?" he -asked, stopping by her chair. "You can see us to-morrow when you are -more composed." - -"No, wait." Kitty sat up and attempted to smile. "I am all right, now. -Is it true, as the papers said, that Aunt Susan died from poison placed -on a peach she was eating?" - -"If we are to believe the medical evidence, yes. Chemical tests proved -that prussic acid still remained on one side of the blade of the fruit -knife used to cut the peach." - -Kitty shuddered. "Who could have planned so diabolical a murder?" she -demanded. - -"That is for us to find out." Kitty looked up quickly at sound of -Rodgers' clear voice. "Tell me, Miss Baird, have you no idea where the -peaches came from?" - -"Not the slightest," she shook her head. "I am positive there were no -peaches in the house when I left here Sunday afternoon. They are very -expensive at this season of the year and," with downright frankness, -"we could not afford to buy them, although Aunt Susan was inordinately -fond of them." - -"Some one must have sent the peaches who was aware of your aunt's -liking for the fruit," Craige remarked thoughtfully. "Had she spoken of -peaches to any of your friends lately?" - -"Friends!" Kitty looked at him with dawning horror. "You don't -think--you don't mean that a _friend_ killed Aunt Susan?" She thrust -out her hands as if warding off some frightful nightmare. "No, no. It -was a housebreaker--a common, ordinary housebreaker." - -"It may have been a housebreaker," agreed Rodgers, soothingly. "But it -was one with the knowledge that the flavor of a peach would disguise -the taste of prussic acid." - -"Kitty," Craige spoke with deep seriousness. "You must realize that -this murder of your aunt was a deliberately planned crime. Burglars -don't go around carrying bottles of prussic acid in their pockets. -Also, there is one point of especial significance--but one side of the -knife-blade had poison on it." - -"You mean--?" She questioned him with frightened eyes. - -"That some one whom your aunt knew must have been taking tea with her, -and in administering the poison saw to it that _his_ side of the peach -was harmless," Craige responded. - -Kitty looked at the two men dumbly. Craige had put into words what she -had dimly realized. - -"It is dreadful!" she gasped. "What possible motive could have inspired -her murder?" - -Craige looked at Rodgers, then drawing out his leather wallet he -selected a newspaper clipping and ran his eyes down the printed column. - -"Tell us, Kitty," and his voice was coaxing. "Is it true that you and -your aunt quarreled on Sunday as Oscar testified?" - -Kitty blanched and her eyes shifted from Rodgers to the glowing embers -on the hearth. - -"It wasn't a quarrel," she declared faintly. "Aunt Susan and I had a -few words--" - -"Yes," prompted Craige. "A few words about what?" - -"About money matters." Kitty did not look at either man. Rodgers' heart -sank. Oscar had also testified that the quarrel was about Major Leigh -Wallace. Could it be that Kitty was prevaricating? He put the thought -from him. Oscar _must_ have lied. - -"About money matters," Craig repeated, returning the clipping and -wallet to his pocket. "Then why did you not tell that to Coroner -Penfield when he questioned you in the witness stand?" - -"It wasn't his business--it had nothing to do with Aunt Susan's death," -she stated incoherently. "And," with a slow, painful blush, "our -poverty, our painful economies were bad enough without discussing them -in public." - -"Oh!" Craige cast a doubtful look at Rodgers, but the latter's -expressionless face gave the keen-witted lawyer no clue as to his -opinion of Kitty's statement. "Kitty, were you your aunt's nearest -relative?" - -"Yes. Ben Potter is a second cousin, I believe." Kitty paused. "Ben -has not been here very much lately." - -"Since his marriage, you mean?" asked Craige. - -Kitty glanced up and then away. "Yes. Aunt Susan poked fun at him at -the time of his marriage, said she did not care for 'poor whites,' and -Ben was very angry." - -"Was there ever an open quarrel?" - -"Oh, no. Outwardly, they were good friends; and they dined here usually -once a month," Kitty explained. "But relations were strained a little -bit." - -"Could you not make Ben and Nina a visit when they return from New -York?" asked Craige. - -"I can, if I wish," with quick resentment. "But I prefer to stay in -this house." - -"Just a moment, Kitty," Craige held up a cautioning hand. "This house -belonged to your aunt, did it not?" - -"Yes. But I--" she hesitated. "I ran the house with the money I earned. -I can still do that." - -"True, if the house is left to you." Kitty stared at her godfather -aghast. "Did your aunt leave her will in your care?" - -"No." - -"Did she ever speak to you of a will?" - -"No; she never mentioned the subject." - -Craige looked at her thoughtfully. "It may be that your aunt made no -will," he said finally. "I transacted such legal matters as she brought -to me, but I never drew up a will." - -"But as Miss Baird is her aunt's nearest living relative, would she not -inherit her aunt's property?" asked Rodgers. - -"Possibly; but Ben Potter may claim his share of the estate," the -lawyer pointed out. - -"Estate!" broke in Kitty with a nervous laugh. "Poor Aunt Susan had -only this house and its dilapidated furniture. Ben is welcome to his -share." - -"Just a moment," Craige interrupted in his turn. "Your aunt must -have left a will or some legal document regarding the disposal of -her property. She had a great habit of tucking her papers away. You -recollect our search for the tax receipts, Kitty?" - -Kitty's face brightened into one of her mischievous smiles, while her -eyes twinkled. - -"Aunt Susan was secretive," she acknowledged. "It was a case of -searching for lump sugar even, when she was in the mood for hiding -things." - -"Hiding!" Rodgers rose to his feet and his eyes sought the bench where -he had found the trap-door. "Come here, Miss Baird," and he beckoned -them to approach. "I opened that by accident just before Mr. Craige -arrived--see." - -Kitty slipped her hand inside the cavity and drew out the key. - -"I remember the trap-door," she said. "If you press on a spring -concealed in one of the boards, the door drops inward. But what does -this tag mean?" and they read the words aloud: - - This key unlocks the inside drawer of the highboy in the blue room - on the fourth floor. - -"Let us go and see what it means," suggested Rodgers, and Craige nodded -his agreement. - -"Lead the way, Kitty," he added. "Do you need a lamp?" - -"There is a candlestick outside my bedroom door, and we can light the -gas jets as we go through the halls," she replied. - -Pausing only long enough to pick up several small match boxes, she -led the way out of the library and up the long staircase. A light -was burning dimly in the first hall and Rodgers turned it up before -following Kitty and her godfather to the next story. From there they -hurried to the fourth floor, Kitty's candle but intensifying the -darkness. - -The stuffy atmosphere of a room long unused greeted them as they -entered a large square room facing the front of the house. With the aid -of her candle, Kitty located the one gas jet and by its feeble rays -they looked about them. The room evidently obtained its name from its -faded blue wall paper. The old four-post bed and the massive mahogany -furniture belonged to another and richer generation, but Rodgers had -no time to investigate its beauties, his attention being focussed on a -highboy standing near one of the windows. Kitty again read the message -on the tag before approaching the highboy. - -"The inside drawer," she repeated. "What does she mean?" - -For answer Rodgers pulled open the nearest drawer. It was filled with -old finery, and after tumbling its contents about, Kitty closed it. - -"Try the next," suggested Craige. The second drawer proved equally -unproductive of result, and it was with growing discouragement that -they went through the next three and found them also uninteresting. On -pulling out the last drawer Kitty found it arranged as a writing desk. - -"I have seen this kind before," Rodgers felt along the front of the -drawer; there was a faint click and the front woodwork swung aside, -disclosing an inside drawer. - -Kitty slipped the key she was carrying into the lock. It turned with a -slight squeaking sound, showing the need of oil, and Kitty drew open -the drawer. Inside it lay another brass key also tagged. - -"What does it say?" she asked as Rodgers picked it up. - -He read: - - This key unlocks the lower left hand drawer of the sideboard in the - dining room. - -"Is that your aunt's handwriting?" - -"Yes." Kitty looked as mystified as she felt. "Shall we go downstairs -and look in the sideboard?" - -"Of course." As he spoke, Craige started for the door. It took them -but a few minutes to reach the dining room, and it was with a sense of -rising excitement that Kitty unlocked the "lower left hand drawer" of -the sideboard. - -"Good gracious! Another key!" she gasped, and held it up so that both -men could read the tag tied to it. - -The message ran: - - This key unlocks the linen trunk in the attic. - -"Upon my word your aunt outdid herself!" exclaimed Craige. "Come, -Kitty, as long as we have started this investigation, we must complete -it." - -Not having anticipated having to return to the top of the house, -Rodgers had carefully put out all the lights, and relighting the gas -jets delayed them somewhat. Kitty's candle had almost burned itself out -when they entered the cold and unfriendly attic. No gas pipes had been -placed there, and Rodgers was thankful that his electric torch, which -he carried when motoring at night, was in his pocket. By its rays Kitty -recognized the old-fashioned brass-bound hair trunk in which her aunt -had kept some precious pieces of hand woven linen. - -Crouching down on the floor with Rodgers holding his torch so that she -could see the best, Kitty turned the key in the lock and threw back the -lid of the trunk. On the spotless white linen lay a small brass key -with a tag twice its size. The message it bore read: - - This key unlocks the case of the Gila monster. - -"The case of the Gila monster," repeated Rodgers. "What did your aunt -mean?" - -"I know!" Kitty clapped her hands. "Ben Potter spent the summer with -Aunt Susan two years ago and he left one of his cases here. It contains -the plaster cast of a Gila monster." - -"And where is the case?" asked Craige. - -"In the library." - -"Then let us go there at once. You will catch cold up in this icy -place, Kitty." Observing that she was shivering, Craige closed the -trunk with a resounding bang, drew out the key, and preceded them out -of the attic. - -Back in the library again, Kitty walked over to a Japanese screen, -which cut off one corner of the room, and pushing it aside, disclosed a -low oak case on which rested a glass box. Inside the box lay the cast -of a Gila monster. The poisonous lizard looked so alive that Rodgers -was startled for a moment. Bending closer, he viewed its wedge-shaped -head and black and yellow mottled body with deep interest. - -"So that is the end of our search!" Kitty laughed ruefully. "Aunt Susan -had a remarkable sense of humor." - -"Wait a bit," exclaimed Rodgers. "Why not unlock the case?" - -"If you wish--" Kitty inserted the key in the lock and pulled down the -glass door of the box, and she and her companions stared silently at -the monster. Suddenly, Rodgers leaned forward and picked up the plaster -cast. An exclamation broke from Craige. - -"Papers at last!" he shouted. "Look, Kitty--Rodgers--" and as Rodgers -removed the cast entirely out of the glass case, they saw that a part -of the flooring of the box, which was built to resemble a sandy desert, -came with the lizard, leaving a cavity, or false bottom, in which lay -some documents. Gathering them up, Craige walked over to the nearest -lamp and drawing up a chair sat down. - -"With your permission, Kitty," he said. "These papers are not -sealed--shall I open them?" - -"Certainly." - -Craige pulled out a short half sheet of foolscap from the first -envelope and read its contents aloud: - - Know all present that I, Susan Baird, spinster, of Washington, D. C., - being of sound mind, do give and devise to my niece, Katrina Baird, - all I may die possessed of, real or personal property. This is a - special bequest in view of her efforts to support me. - - A list of my property and a key to my safe deposit boxes in the bank, - certificates of ownership, etc., are placed here with this, my last - will and testament. - - Signed in the presence of: - Josiah Wilkins, Martha Hammond, and James Duncan, June 20, 1918. - Susan Baird. - -Kitty and Rodgers stared at each other as Craige, laying aside the -will, rapidly opened the three other documents and examined them. Kitty -drew a long, long breath. - -"So I get the old house after all," she said softly. - -"You get far more than that, Kitty," Craige laid down the documents. -"From these statements and certificates I find that your aunt owned -many valuable stocks and bonds." He looked at the surprised girl for a -moment, then added: "She has left you a fortune." - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -MRS. PARSONS ASKS QUESTIONS - - -Washington society, or such portions of it as had known Miss Susan -Baird in her lifetime, was agog over the latest development in the -Baird tragedy; while Washingtonians personally unacquainted with -the spinster were equally interested from motives of curiosity in -the filing of her will. And all Washington, figuratively speaking, -rubbed its eyes and read the newspapers assiduously, without, however, -gaining much satisfaction. News from Police Headquarters was scant, and -reporters resorted to theories in place of facts in trying to solve the -murder of the "Miser of Rose Hill." Miss Susan Baird, in death, had -emerged from the obscurity which had shrouded her in life. - -Inspector Mitchell leaned forward in his chair, rested his elbows on -the highly polished mahogany table-top and contemplated Mrs. Parsons -with speculative interest. Three quarters of an hour before he had -received a telephone message requesting him to call upon her on, as -her servant had stated, urgent business. He had spent ten minutes -in conversation with Mrs. Parsons and had not received the faintest -inkling as to why she wished to see him. - -"May I ask, Madam," he began with direct bluntness, "what it is that -you wish to see me about?" - -Mrs. Parsons looked across the "den" to make sure that the door was -closed. Satisfied on that point, she turned her attention to the -inspector. - -"I am anxious to have your bureau undertake a certain investigation for -me," she said. "I will gladly meet all expenses, no matter how large -they may be." - -"Just a moment," broke in Mitchell. "Do you mean a private -investigation?" - -"Yes, I suppose so," somewhat doubtfully. "You might term it that. I -want certain information about a--a person's past career--" - -She stopped as Mitchell shook his head. - -"We are public officials, Madam, employed by the District Government," -he explained. "What you require is a private detective." - -"But are they not untrustworthy?" she questioned. "I was told they very -often sold you out to the person you wished watched." - -"There are crooks in all trades, Madam," replied Mitchell. "There are -also honest men. You are not obliged to pick a crooked detective to -work for you." - -"That is just it-- Can you recommend a trustworthy person to--to--" - -"To what, Madam?" as she came to a stammering halt. - -"To learn certain facts in a person's life." She plucked nervously at -her handkerchief as she waited for his answer. - -"You will have to be more explicit, Madam," he said gravely. "Whose -past life do you wish investigated and why?" - -Mrs. Parsons paused in indecision; then with an air of perfect candor -addressed the impatient inspector. - -"Of course you will respect my confidence," she began. Mitchell nodded. -"There is a certain man in Washington who has gained a welcome in the -most exclusive homes," she paused. "I believe him to be an adventurer." - -"Come, Mrs. Parsons, that is not being very explicit," remonstrated -Mitchell. "To whom are you alluding?" - -"A man calling himself Edward Rodgers." - -Mitchell sat back and regarded her in unconcealed surprise. - -"Edward Rodgers," he echoed. "You surely do not mean Edward Rodgers, -the handwriting expert?" - -"I do." His profound astonishment was a sap to her vanity, and she -could not restrain a smile. It vanished suddenly as a thought recurred -to her. "You have promised, Inspector, not to repeat what I tell you. I -depend upon you to keep your word." - -"Of course." Mitchell reddened. "I don't break confidences, Madam. -But you have said too much not to say more. What are your reasons for -claiming that Edward Rodgers is an adventurer?" - -Mrs. Parsons did not reply at once and Mitchell studied her with covert -interest. She was dressed in exquisite taste and the delicate rose-tint -of her complexion had been applied with such consummate skill that -even the uncompromising glare of a March morning betrayed no signs of -make-up to the sharp eyes of her visitor. Mitchell had always been more -or less susceptible to women's wiles, and his stiff official manner had -thawed perceptibly when she had welcomed him with a cordiality very -gratifying to his _amour propre_. - -"Some years ago," Mrs. Parsons spoke in so low a tone that Mitchell -was obliged to lean forward to catch what she said. "My husband, then -a practicing attorney in San Francisco, had a client, Jacob Brown, a -man of supposed wealth and standing in the community. Gradually, I do -not know why, certain business transactions in which Brown was involved -became questionable, but it was not until the Holt will case--" - -"The Holt will case!" Inspector Mitchell drew back sharply. "Hah! Jake -Brown--'Gentleman Jake?'" - -"Yes, just so." She looked at him admiringly. "You have an excellent -memory, Inspector." - -"Where crime is concerned," he admitted, with a touch of pride. "Let me -see, Gentleman Jake was one of the beneficiaries in Colonel Holt's will -at a time when his financial affairs were in bad shape--" - -"In fact, Gentleman Jake was a ruined man--" she supplemented softly. - -"Exactly." Mitchell warmed to his subject. "And according to the will, -Colonel Holt left him a hundred thousand dollars. Then along came a -nephew who dug up another will and claimed that the one leaving the -legacy to Gentleman Jake was a clever forgery." - -"And the nephew won his case through the expert testimony of Edward -Rodgers, handwriting expert," added Mrs. Parsons. "Gentleman Jake was -sent to the penitentiary and--" - -"Died before his term was up," Mitchell completed the sentence for her. - -"But before he died he sent for my husband," Mrs. Parsons paused, then -spoke more rapidly. "Jake Brown trusted my husband: he had stood by him -and aided in his defense. On his death-bed Jake confessed--" - -"That _his_ Holt will was a forgery," interrupted Mitchell, pleased -that he could again piece out her story and thereby prove his -recollection of the case. - -"That was his public confession," Mrs. Parsons lowered her voice. "What -he told my husband under pledge of secrecy was that the _second_ will -was also a forgery." - -"Second will?" sharply. "You mean the will produced by the nephew?" - -"Exactly so." - -"Well, good gracious!" Mitchell rubbed his head, perplexed in mind. -"Why wasn't it proven a forgery then?" - -"Because its legality was never questioned. You will recall that -Colonel Holt's nephew produced letters and documents to prove his -claim, and--" with a quiet smile--"every one's attention was centered -on Jake Brown and the will he fostered. Jake _knew_ his will was a -forgery and his entire effort was to evade the law. It was not until he -was serving his sentence that Jake's suspicions were aroused, and it -was one of his fellow convicts who gave him the tip." - -"And what was the tip?" asked Mitchell, as she paused. - -"That Edward Rodgers turned his expert knowledge of handwriting and his -skillful penmanship to good account--" calmly. - -"You mean--" - -"Jake told my husband that Edward Rodgers examined the spurious will -when it was first offered for probate and discovered that it was a -forgery. Keeping his knowledge to himself, Mr. Rodgers communicated -with Colonel Holt's nephew and, for a consideration, drew up the will -leaving all Colonel Holt's fortune to the nephew--" - -"Oh, come," Mitchell's smile was skeptical. "The nephew, as next of -kin, would have inherited the property when the first will was proven a -forgery; for in that event Colonel Holt died intestate." - -"But there was another relative who should have shared Colonel Holt's -fortune in case the Colonel died without leaving a will," she explained. - -"Oh!" - -"Thus, to inherit his uncle's wealth the nephew had to produce a will -in his favor," she went on. "It was clever to present a second spurious -will under the protection, you might say, of a detected forged will -around which interest centered. As far as I know, the second will was -so cleverly drawn that it never aroused suspicion." - -"And thus the nephew inherited his uncle's money." Mitchell stroked his -chin thoughtfully. "What was Gentleman Jake's object in telling this--" -he hesitated, torn between a sense of politeness and unbelief, "this -story to your husband?" - -"Jake said that he confided in him hoping that Mr. Parsons could catch -Edward Rodgers tripping some day and send him to the 'pen,'" she -replied. - -"Did your husband place any faith in Jake's yarn?" he asked. "A -cornered crook, like a cornered cat, will fight--and lie." - -"On his death-bed?" She shook her head. "I think not. What had Jake to -gain then?" - -"Well, did your husband take any steps in exposing the second will?" -asked Mitchell. - -"My husband," her expression altered to one of deep sadness, "was -killed in an automobile accident shortly after." - -"Oh," Mitchell coughed slightly to cover his embarrassment. "Oh." - -"Amos often discussed his cases with me," she added. "And Gentleman -Jake's statements had aroused him to an unusual degree. He was -thunderstruck at the effrontery of the crime and at its cleverness." - -"It was a clever scheme," acknowledged Mitchell, "and probably -succeeded through its very boldness. But, pardon me, Madam, you have -brought forward no proof to substantiate your story." - -"I am coming to that." Mrs. Parsons rose and walking over to a closet, -beckoned to the inspector. Opening the door, she knelt down before a -small safe used to hold her table silver. From one of its compartments -she took out a worn envelope. - -"I forgot to tell you," she stated, shutting the door of the safe, -"that the fellow convict who gave the tip to Gentleman Jake was up -for burglary. Some time previous to his arrest he had entered Edward -Rodgers' apartment in San Francisco and, among other things, stolen -these papers. He sent them to my husband when released from the 'pen.' -See for yourself," and she handed the envelope to Mitchell. - -Returning to his old seat, Inspector Mitchell shook the contents of the -envelope on the table, then laying it down he picked up a yellowish -paper, which bore the signature: "John Holt" written over and over. The -reverse was a letter in a stiff, Spencerian handwriting: - - Dear Rodgers: - - Call at my office to-morrow. I plan to destroy my last will, and would - like you to locate my nephew, Leigh Wallace, for me. - - Yours, - John Holt. - -Without comment Mitchell laid aside the letter and picked up -another paper. It bore the same signature, traced in varying forms -of completeness, and in one corner the name, "Leigh Wallace," was -repeated again and again. The third and last paper was in the stiff -handwriting of the letter signed by John Holt, and read: - - I, John Holt, being in good health and of sound mind, do hereby revoke - all other instruments and do declare this to be my last will and - testament. I give and bequeath to my nephew, Leigh Wallace-- - -The remainder of the page was blank except for a large smudge of ink. - -Inspector Mitchell laid the three sheets of paper side by side and -examined them with care. - -"Leigh Wallace," he said smilingly. "Is he any relation to the Major -Leigh Wallace over whom Miss Baird and her niece, Miss Kitty, are -said by Oscar to have quarreled on Sunday shortly before Miss Baird's -murder?" - -"He is the same man." Mrs. Parsons pushed aside the vase of flowers -standing on the table so that she could obtain an unobstructed view -of Mitchell and the papers lying in front of him. "Strange, is it -not, that Major Leigh Wallace and Edward Rodgers should both be in -Washington and both interested in the Baird murder?" - -"Why strange?" Inspector Mitchell was not to be drawn. "All Washington -is interested in Miss Susan Baird's death." - -"But not with such a _personal_ interest." Mrs. Parsons' voice was -honey sweet. "Edward Rodgers has promised to aid in tracing her -murderer. Also, Colonel Holt was Kitty Baird's uncle." - -"What--then she is the other relative you alluded to--?" - -"Yes." She paused. "Colonel Holt died intestate and his property should -have been divided equally between his nearest of kin, Kitty Baird, and -her cousin, Leigh Wallace." - -"But the forged will gave the entire fortune to Wallace," Mitchell -spoke slowly. - -"Which he has squandered," she added. "Leigh Wallace is cursed with an -inherited vice--a craze for gambling." - -Inspector Mitchell raised his head and regarded Mrs. Parsons. The -silence lasted fully a minute, then picking up the three papers he -replaced them in the worn envelope and pocketed it. - -"You have given me valuable information," he said, rising. "It will -not be necessary to call in a private detective. Good morning, Mrs. -Parsons." - - - - -CHAPTER X - -RUMORS - - -The clerks in the outer office of "Craige and Lewis, Attorneys" looked -up as the hall door opened with an unmistakable wrench and Ben Potter -precipitated himself into the room. He brought up with some abruptness -before the chief clerk's desk. - -"Take my card at once to Mr. Craige," he directed. "Tell him I'm in the -devil's hurry--late for an appointment now. Thank you," as an office -boy hurried forward with a chair. "I prefer to stand." - -The chief clerk, with one look at Potter's determined expression, -decided it was best to swallow his dignity and execute Potter's -peremptory request. He returned with unusual speed from the inner -office. - -"Mr. Craige will see you at once, Sir," he announced, holding the door -open for Potter and swinging it to behind him with a sharp bang, as a -slight vent to his ruffled feelings. - -Potter had crossed the room before he realized that he and Craige, -who had risen at his entrance, were not alone. His angry frown gave -way to a smile when the third man turned more fully toward him and he -recognized Edward Rodgers. - -"Hello, Ted, I'm glad you are here," he exclaimed as Craige pulled -another chair for his guest before resuming his seat. Potter sat down -heavily and tossed his hat and cane on the desk. "Say, Craige, what the -deuce does this mean?" and unfolding a newspaper, which he had held -tightly clenched in his left hand, he pointed to a column of news, -under the heading: - - Miss Susan Baird Wills Fortune to Niece - -"It means what it says," explained Craige. "Miss Susan Baird left Kitty -an heiress." - -Potter's prominent pale blue eyes were opened to their widest extent. -"C-c-cousin S-s-susan!" he stuttered. "That forlorn old pauper left -a fortune! Why, Craige, I fully expected to be called on to pay her -funeral expenses. You mean to tell me, in all earnestness, that Cousin -Susan had any money--" - -"She did not have 'any money,' she had a large fortune," declared -Craige, laughing outright at Potter's ludicrous expression of -bewilderment. - -"Then I am to understand that this newspaper is correct in its -statements?" Potter asked. - -"You are--" Craige leaned over and looked at the date on the newspaper. -"You are a bit behind-hand, Ben. That paper of yours is a day old." - -"Well, I've only just seen it," Potter's tone had grown querulous. "I -had to run on to New York night before last--the night of the inquest, -to be exact, and Nina and I only got in this morning, having taken the -midnight train. This paper was the first I opened when we reached home, -and its account of Cousin Susan's will astounded me." - -"It took our breath away also," admitted Craige. "Rodgers was with us -when we found the will; in fact it was through his agency that it was -found at all." - -Potter swung around so hastily in his endeavor to face Rodgers that he -knocked his cane off the desk. - -"How'd you know there was a will?" he demanded. "Oh, never mind about -the cane; let it stay on the floor." - -"Rodgers had no knowledge of the will's existence any more than the -rest of us," declared Craige before Rodgers, who had stooped to pick -up Potter's cane, had a chance to answer the latter's question. -"He happened to open a trap-door to a hiding place in which lay -directions, written by Susan Baird, telling us where to find her -papers." - -Potter stared at his companions in unbounded astonishment. It was some -moments before he collected his wits sufficiently to ask a question. - -"Where," he began, "and how, in the name of God, did Cousin Susan -acquire her wealth?" - -Craige shook a bewildered head. "I cannot answer that question," he -admitted. "It is one that has puzzled me hourly since the finding of -her will and the discovery of her investments." - -"They are all genuine?" - -"Absolutely; gilt edged, most of them." Again Craige shook his head. -"Miss Susan showed rare judgment in her investments, rare even in an -experienced man of business, and in a woman who posed as a pauper--good -Lord!" He raised his hands and dropped them with an expressive gesture. -"In all my legal experience the whole affair, her death, her wealth--is -the most remarkable." - -"Considering them together, does not her wealth suggest a motive for -her death?" asked Rodgers, breaking his long silence. - -"But who knew that she was wealthy?" demanded Potter. "Was ever a -secret so well kept?" He stopped abruptly as a thought occurred to him -and his expression altered. "How about Kitty? Was she in the dark, -too, or was she aware that her aunt owned a large fortune?" - -"She was entirely ignorant of it." Rodgers spoke with marked emphasis, -and Potter favored him with a heavy scowl. "Kitty Baird had no idea -that her aunt was anything but the pauper she pretended to be. On that -I'll stake my reputation." - -Potter's scowl gave away to an expression of doubt. - -"It's odd, in fact, it's damned odd!" he exploded. "Kitty lived with -her aunt, lived alone with her. How could she help but know of her -aunt's financial affairs?" - -"Suppose you question Kitty," suggested Craige, with a swift glance -at Rodger's lowering countenance. "The girl, in my opinion, knew -absolutely nothing about her aunt's hoarded wealth--for it was hoarded, -hoarded even from her, her only living relative." - -"Hold on there, I'm a relative, also," objected Potter. "She and my -father were second cousins. By the way," with a complete change of -tone, "was there any mention of me in the will?" - -"There was not." At Craige's curt reply Potter frowned again. - -"So she left me out of it, did she?" He shrugged his shoulders with -well-simulated indifference. "Did Cousin Susan name an executor and did -she leave her fortune to Kitty in trust, or give it to her outright?" - -"She left it to Kitty without reservations," replied Craige. "Kitty -applied to the Court to appoint me co-executor with herself, and the -court has granted her request and permitted us to-day to take out -letters of administration." - -"Is that so." Potter reached for his hat and buttoned up his overcoat -which he had kept on during the interview. "Do I understand, Ted, that -you are seriously trying to solve the mystery of Cousin Susan's murder?" - -"I am." - -Potter rose. His usual genial manner was absent and also his ready -smile. - -"Has it occurred to you, Ted," he said, and his voice was rasping; -"that the person to benefit by Cousin Susan's death is the one person -known to have quarreled with her during the afternoon of the day in -which she was murdered?" - -"What d'ye mean?" Rodgers was on his feet, advancing toward the -naturalist. - -"I mean," Potter spoke with deliberation, his eyes not dropping before -Rodgers' furious gaze. "I mean that Kitty first quarreled with her aunt -and now most opportunely inherits her fortune--so that she can marry -Leigh Wallace, who can't afford to marry a poor girl." - -Rodgers' powerful grip on Potter's throat was loosened by Craige. - -"Stop this quarreling!" commanded the lawyer. "Stop it, I say," and he -shook Rodgers vehemently as he backed him away from Potter. "Go, Ben; -I'll join you later." - -Craige did not release his hold on Rodgers until Potter, still gasping -from his encounter with the former, reeled out of the office. - -"What has come over you, Rodgers?" he asked, letting go his hold so -suddenly that Rodgers staggered backward. "Why did you fly at Potter in -that manner?" - -"The dirty blackguard!" Rodgers actually stammered in his rage. "Didn't -you hear him? Why, he had the audacity to infer that because old Oscar -overheard a wordy row between Kitty and her aunt, that Kitty killed the -old lady and so inherited her fortune--to marry--" he choked. "Why, -damn it! There are a dozen men who would marry Kitty if she hadn't a -cent in the world--I'm--" his face paled, "I'm one of them." - -Craige looked at him with admiring approval. "I like your loyalty," -he exclaimed. "As for Potter--" he struck his desk with his clenched -fist. "Potter has grown insufferable. Matrimony doesn't appear to agree -with him." He stepped back to his desk and picked up his brief case. -When he turned again to Rodgers, who stood waiting by the door, the -gravity of his manner struck the younger man. "There is no use blinding -ourselves to the situation, Rodgers," he said. "It is up to us to solve -the mystery of Susan Baird's death. If we don't," he paused, "Kitty may -find herself in a most unpleasant predicament." - -"The mystery is going to be solved--and quickly," Rodgers checked his -hasty speech. "Are you on your way to the Court House, Mr. Craige?" - -"Yes." Craige followed Rodgers through the outer office, pausing only -long enough to be assisted into his overcoat by an attentive office -boy, and joined him at the elevator. "Don't let Potter worry you, -Rodgers; give him time to cool off. I imagine the news that Susan -Baird was a wealthy woman, and that she never left him a red cent is -responsible for his irritability. You know Ben is rather inclined to -love money." - -"Hm, yes. I can well believe that he is blood-kin in that respect to -Miss Susan Baird," and Rodgers, his temper somewhat restored, waved -a friendly hand to Craige as they left the elevator and went their -several ways. - -Once in the street Rodgers moved with dragging footsteps toward his -car, his thought elsewhere. Suddenly he became conscious that, as -deliberately as he walked, some one just ahead of him was moving even -more slowly. Stepping to one side, he moved forward at a more rapid -gait and was about to pass the limping figure when a hand touched his -arm and looking down he found old Oscar by his side. - -"I'se sorry, Sah, I couldn't get out o' your way," he said -apologetically. "This hyar rheumatics am mighty bad dis mawnin', Mister -Rodgers." - -"That is too bad, Oscar." Rodgers, observing the old man's weary air, -spoke with impulsive sympathy. "You are pretty far from home." - -"Yessir. I started to do an errand fo' Mandy, and then I stopped to see -a parade, an' I jes' naturally has ter follow a band, an' hyar I be!" -The old darky heaved a heavy sigh. "I 'spects a street cyar'll be along -bimeby an' carry me over to Georgetown." - -"Get in my car and I will take you to 'Rose Hill.'" At Rodgers' -suggestion a pleased smile lighted Oscar's face and he showed his big -white teeth to their fullest extent. - -"'Deed, Sah, that's mighty nice ob you'," he exclaimed, moving with -greater speed to the curb. "I kin get in, thank yo' kindly." - -It took Oscar a few minutes to get comfortably settled in the roadster, -and it was with a sigh of genuine satisfaction that he leaned back and -watched Rodgers start his engine. His smile, which had never quite -departed since Rogers first suggested taking him home, broadened -expansively as they slipped through traffic and swung into a quieter -side street. - -"Yo' certainly kin drive, Mister Rodgers," he said, breaking the long -silence. "I guess yo' can beat Major Wallace handlin' a cyar." - -"Thanks for the compliment, Oscar," Rodgers laughed. "Major Wallace has -a reputation as a speedster." - -"Yessir," but Oscar looked a trifle bewildered, long words were not his -strong point. "Major Wallace done taught Miss Kitty ter drive." - -"Oh, has he?" - -"Yessir." Oscar was oblivious of Rodgers' shortness of tone. "Dat's one -o' the things Ole Miss cut up ructions 'bout. She did hate dat Major, -an' she jes' laid Miss Kitty out fo' goin' wid him." - -"Oh, come, Oscar, Miss Susan did not hate Major Wallace," objected -Rodgers. - -"She did, Sah, she did." Oscar's smile had disappeared and he spoke -quickly. "An' she suttenly did 'spress her mind to Miss Kitty on -Sunday." - -Rodgers turned and scanned Oscar closely. The old darky looked the -picture of honest respectability. His worn clothes were neatly brushed -and patched. He sat with his battered hat cocked a trifle over one eye -and his black face shone with the enjoyment of the unexpected treat of -a ride in a fast roadster with "one of the quality" as he termed Ted -Rodgers in his own mind. - -"Why did you tell Coroner Penfield that Miss Susan and her niece -quarreled on Sunday?" Rodgers asked. The old man blinked at the -unexpected question. - -"'Cause he axed me, an' they did quarrel." Oscar's voice betrayed a -strain of obstinacy. "'Tain't no harm tellin' de truf, is there, Mister -Rodgers?" - -"No, certainly not." Rodgers slowed down at a street crossing and in -shifting gears failed to catch the sudden crafty look Oscar shot at -him. It vanished in a second. "How is Miss Kitty this morning?" - -"Tol'able well, thank yo'," Oscar replied. "Dr. McLean was over las' -night an' he tole Mandy that he wanted Miss Kitty to leave town fo' -a month; seemed to think she needed change. But Miss Kitty, she said -'no.'" - -"Then she is not going away." Rodgers' satisfaction was unconcealed. -"Is she at home, Oscar?" as he slowed up the car before the entrance to -"Rose Hill." - -Oscar shook his head. "No, Sah, she done gone fo' de day," he said, -opening the door and clambering with some difficulty to the pavement. -"Miss Kitty said somethin' 'bout seein' Mrs. Parsons. She done call -her up dis mawnin'." - -"I thought Miss Kitty had resigned from her secretary work." Rodgers -let his engine run and leaned over to speak to Oscar. "Has Mrs. Parsons -been here?" - -"No, Sah, not since Miss Susan's death." Oscar hesitated, looked up and -down the empty street, then back over his shoulder. No one was within -earshot. The old man took his hand from the car door and rested his -weight on his cane. "I kinda 'spects they had a fight." - -"They--?" Rodgers eyed him in deep surprise. "Miss Kitty and Mrs. -Parsons?" - -"No, Sah. Mrs. Parsons an' ole Miss Susan. Good mawnin', Sah," and -Oscar stamped up the steps leading to "Rose Hill," deaf to Rodgers' -repeated calls to return. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -I. O. U. - - -Ted Rodgers shut off his engine, sprang from the car and in ten strides -had gained the old negro's side. - -"Stop a moment!" And at the stern command in his voice Oscar halted. "I -am convinced that you know more of Miss Susan Baird's death than you -have admitted, Oscar, and--" his voice deepened, "you are going to tell -me the truth." - -Oscar cast a frightened glance upward. Rodgers' determined expression -was not one to encourage evasion. - -"Suttenly, Sah, suttenly. Wha-what truf do yo' wish, Sah?" he -stammered, politeness uppermost in spite of his confusion of mind. - -Rodgers' gaze grew in intensity as he studied the old man. The latter's -eyes had shifted from his interrogator to the mansion and his black -face had become mottled grey in color. As the silence lengthened, -Oscar's apprehension increased and his fingers fumbled nervously -with his cane. For the life of him he could think of nothing to say. -The sound of Rodgers' voice came as so vast a relief that at first he -failed to take in what he was saying. - -"You testified at the inquest, Oscar," Rodgers stated slowly, "that -after serving a midday dinner on Sunday you left 'Rose Hill.' But you -did not tell Coroner Penfield that you returned here on Sunday night--" - -"I didn't, Sah--fo' Gawd, I didn't!" Oscar raised a trembling hand. "I -only jes' passed along the street down yonder--" - -"And what did you see?" demanded Rodgers, his eyes sparkling. His -chance shot in the dark had told. - -Oscar's answer was slow in coming. Moving closer to Rodgers, he laid -one shaking hand, knotted from rheumatism, on his shoulder. The -gesture, half involuntary, held something pathetic in its mute appeal. - -"Massa," he began, and his voice grew wistful. "Whose side is yo' on? -Is yo' fo' de police o' fo' Miss Kitty?" - -Rodgers whitened as he met the old man's direct gaze. At last there was -no shifting in Oscar's eyes. Man to man they faced each other--master -and servant--each dominated with one desire: to serve one woman. - -"I would give my life for Miss Kitty," Rodgers' deep voice carried -conviction. - -"An' yo' won't let no harm come to her?" - -"No." The reply rang out clearly. Oscar's harassed expression altered. - -"Gawd bless yo', Sah!" He touched Rogers' hand reverently. "Ole Mandy -an' me, we's needed help de worst way. Hadn't nowhar to turn; now--" he -drew a long breath of relief. "Now yo' kin find Miss Kitty's red coat--" - -"Miss Kitty's red coat?" echoed Rodgers, staring in astonishment at -Oscar. "What in the world--" - -"Yessir." Oscar blinked rapidly. "Yo' 'member dat dar coat Miss Kitty -was so fond o' wearin'?--I heard yo' an' she argyfying 'bout it bein' -pink 'stead o' red." - -"I know the one you mean," replied Rodgers impatiently. "Well, what -about it?" - -"It's done gone!" Oscar raised his hand and dropped it in a gesture -indicative of despair. "An', Mister Rodgers, we's got ter find dat ar -coat fo' de police." - -Rodgers stared at him for a full moment. There was no doubting Oscar's -sincerity. His face was beaded in perspiration and his eyes, twice -their normal size, were alight with earnest appeal. - -"Please, Sah, don't ax me no mo' questions," he pleaded. "Jes' find -dat coat an' we'll know who killed ole Miss." - -"Upon my word!" Rodgers shook a bewildered head. "What are you driving -at, Oscar?" - -"Find dat coat, Sah, an' then yo'll know all. 'Deed, Massa, I ain't -lyin'." Oscar's voice shook with feeling. "Please, Sah, do as I ax. -It's fo' Miss Kitty." - -"Very well." Rodgers came to a sudden decision. "I'll do my best to aid -Miss Kitty, even if I do it blindfolded. But, see here, Oscar, wouldn't -it be simpler to ask Miss Kitty for her coat?" - -"She mustn't know nawthin'!" Oscar spoke in genuine alarm. "She--she -ain't had it fo' mos' some time--" His lips trembled a bit and he -touched them with the tips of his fingers. "The coat ain't with none o' -her clothes, 'cause I'se searched the house, Massa, an' Miss Kitty'll -be everlastin' grateful to yo'. But--" his voice dropped to a husky -whisper--"yo' git it befo' de police does." - -Engrossed in their conversation, Rodgers had failed to note that Oscar -had gradually edged his way to the top step. With an agility which took -Rodgers completely by surprise the old negro whisked down the walk -which skirted the mansion and disappeared from sight. - -With an oath Rodgers pursued him down the walk, only to reach the side -door and have it slammed in his face. Repeated knocking brought no -response, and after circling the mansion in the hope of finding an -entrance, if not a glimpse of Oscar, he finally returned to his car and -started for Washington much perturbed in mind. - -On reaching Washington, Rodgers ran the car toward Pennsylvania Avenue, -stopping en route to purchase a can of Mobiloil. It did not take him -long to drive to a garage in an alley to the south of the Avenue. At -his hail the owner of the small shop came out. - -"How'dy, Mr. Rodgers," he exclaimed, touching his soiled cap. "How's -the car going?" - -"All right, but I want the oil drained out, Sam," handing, as he spoke, -the can of Mobiloil to the mechanic. "How is business?" - -"Oh, so so." Sam glanced about the wide alley. "Pull up to this side, -Sir; I can get at the car better here." - -Leaving the car, after he had complied with Sam's request, Rodgers -stood watching him for a few minutes, but his thought would stray back -to Kitty Baird and he lost interest in both the car and the mechanic. -Lighting a cigarette, he strolled down the alley to where it opened -into Pennsylvania Avenue. The sight of hurrying pedestrians and -swift-moving vehicles proved only a brief diversion as his mind again -returned to Kitty and the unsolved problem of her aunt's mysterious -death. - -Oscar's conduct was a puzzle which he wanted time to think out. That -the old man knew more of the circumstances of Miss Susan Baird's death -than he was willing to divulge was self-evident. Rodgers was thoroughly -convinced that Oscar was devoted to Kitty. What then, did he mean to -infer by saying that he, Rodgers, must find Kitty's red coat before the -police secured it? In what possible way was the coat connected with -Miss Baird's death? - -The blare of a motor horn almost in his ear caused Rodgers to jump -to one side as an army truck drove out of the valley and turned into -Pennsylvania Avenue. Not having time to look where he was going, -Rodgers collided with a dummy figure placed in front of a second-hand -clothes store. As Rodgers picked up the figure he found that its wax -face had come in contact with the pavement and was decidedly damaged. -With an impatient sigh he entered the store and was met by the -proprietor. - -"I knocked over your dummy," he explained, drawing out his leather -wallet. "It got a bit damaged. How much--?" and he opened a roll of -Treasury bills. - -"Wait; I'll go see the dummy first," and the proprietor bustled out of -the shop. - -As Rodgers turned to accompany him, his eyes fell upon a red coat -lying on the counter. He had the faculty of carrying a color in his -mind's eye, also of noticing minute details. The coat looked like -Kitty's--with a single stride he was at the counter--the coat _was_ -Kitty's. It was a stylishly cut garment, of a rough finish cloth, with -large patch pockets and a scarflike collar with fringe on the ends. To -make assurance doubly sure Rodgers examined the black and gold buttons -of Japanese handiwork. He had admired them too often to be mistaken. -How came Kitty's coat in that store? A voice at his elbow caused him to -wheel about. - -"The face is kinda mussed up," announced the proprietor. "Five dollars -will cover it." - -"Five dollars!" fumed Rodgers, then paused. "Oh, all right--" handing -him the money. "How much is this coat?" - -"Twenty dollars." The proprietor had caught sight of Rodgers' generous -roll of greenbacks. "It's a nice coat; good as new, 'cept for the torn -lining and a few faded spots. It's just what any lady would want. She -could reline--" - -"I'll take it," cut in Rodgers and the proprietor accepted his money -with a wry face. Why had he not asked more? It was not often that so -biddable a purchaser wandered into his shop. "By the way," Rodgers -paused in the doorway. "How long have you had this coat?" - -"Two--no, three days." The proprietor paused to consider. "The woman -came early in the morning and somehow the coat got misplaced in my -stock. I was putting it in the window on display just as you arrived." - -"Was the woman known to you?" asked Rogers. Both men were on the -sidewalk by that time. - -"Not she--never laid eyes on her before and wouldn't know her again if -I was to see her." The proprietor was in a happy mood; not often had he -taken in twenty-five dollars so easily. "Well, I hope your lady likes -the coat. So-long," and he nodded affably, as Rodgers turned into the -alley. - -There was still five minutes' work to be done on the car and Rodgers -spent them in hurrying Sam into completing the job without further -waste of time, and it was with a feeling of satisfaction that he laid -the coat on the seat and took his place behind the steering wheel. -He had to slow up for traffic as he started out of the alley into -Pennsylvania Avenue. A hail close at hand caused him to look around -and he recognized the proprietor of the second-hand clothes store -approaching. - -"Hey! Just a minute," called the latter, and Rodgers pulled up at the -curb and waited for him. "Say, mister, my wife fancies that coat, so if -you don't mind I'll return you the twenty dollars," and he held out the -money. - -Rodgers eyed him in astonishment. "I prefer to keep the coat," he said. -"Sorry I can't oblige you." - -"But, see here," the man protested. "I'll give you two extra dollars. -Come now, that's fair; twenty-two dollars. Money don't often turn over -in your plans quite so fast, does it?" with a faint leer. "Here're the -extra dollars." - -"Thanks, but I don't want them," dryly. - -"Oh!" The proprietor looked blank. "'Spose we make it twenty-five?" - -"Nothing doing." - -"How about thirty dollars?" persisted the man. "Oh, I'm no piker," -observing Rodgers' expression. "When I want a thing I am willing to pay -for it." - -"And just why do you want this coat so particularly?" asked Rodgers, -his suspicion aroused. - -"I told you my wife wants that coat." - -"Well, she can't have it." Rodgers released the clutch and the car shot -down the Avenue, leaving the dealer in second-hand clothes standing -with mouth agape, gesticulating wildly after him. - -It was but a short distance to the Bachelor where he had an apartment, -and Rodgers paid small regard to traffic regulations until he reached -there. He wasted some valuable moments in finding parking space near -the building and he was in no amiable frame of mind when he finally -hurried through the swing door of the front entrance. The elevator -boy was nowhere visible and Rodgers collected his letters from his -mail box; then, tucking the red coat under his arm, he went over to -the staircase and mounted it two steps at a time until he reached the -third floor. As he turned his latch-key and threw open the door of his -apartment he heard his name called and whirled around. Ben Potter was -walking toward him from the direction of the elevator shaft. - -"Glad I caught you, Ted," he remarked, ignoring Rodgers' curt manner. -Not waiting for an invitation, he stepped into the apartment and walked -through the short hall into the large room which served Rodgers as a -combination living and dining room. "I came to apologize for my surly -behavior in Craige's office this morning, old man." - -"Your apology is due to Miss Baird rather than to me," replied Rodgers -stiffly. - -"I spoke in haste--without thought," Potter admitted amiably. "Let's -drop the matter, Ted. Can you dine with us to-night? I'll get Kitty to -come also." - -"I have an engagement to-night, thanks." - -Potter's florid complexion turned a warmer tint and he averted his -gaze so that Rodgers might not detect the sudden rage which his eyes -betrayed. - -"Sorry; but you'll come some other time, perhaps," he mumbled. "Nina's -greatly interested in hearing of all that you have done for Kitty." - -"I--done for her?" Rodgers turned and eyed his companion sharply. -Potter had perched himself on the end of the lounge with the evident -intention of remaining, and was leisurely rolling a cigarette. - -"Sure--you have accomplished a great deal for Kitty," Potter affirmed -with emphasis. "You found the will which gave her a fortune. To put it -poetically, the beggar maid is now an heiress and a prey to fortune -hunters." - -Rodgers' eyes blazed. "Your remarks are offensive," he exclaimed. - -Potter straightened up. "Are you trying to fasten a quarrel on me?" he -demanded hotly. - -"I intend to make you speak more respectfully of Miss Baird," retorted -Rodgers, his anger at white heat. "If that means a fight--well, I'm -ready," and he tossed the red coat on the nearest chair to have his -hands free. - -Potter's big frame relaxed against the cushioned back of the lounge -as he forced a laugh. "You are too damned quick to take offense," he -protested. "Why, Kitty's my cousin. I'd be the first to take her part." - -"And yet you insinuate--" - -"Nothing," with a patience meant to exasperate. "What are you doing -with Kitty's red coat?" - -Rodgers met the unexpected question with unmoved countenance. - -"You are mistaken," he said. "It is not Miss Baird's coat." - -"It isn't?" Potter's rising inflection expressed doubt. "Let me see -it?" And he reached forward a grasping hand. - -With a quick movement Rodgers pulled the coat beyond Potter's -reach. The next second he was staggering backward from a crashing -blow delivered as Potter, who had gathered himself for a spring, -swung forward upon his feet. Rage at the treacherous attack was a -stimulant to Rodgers and he met Potter's second onslaught with a swift -right-hander. The scientist was no easy antagonist and for the moment -he had the better of the rough and tumble fight; then as the younger -man got his second wind he gave back and Rodgers pinned him against the -wall. - -"You yellow dog!" Rodgers half sobbed the words in his rage as he -shifted his grip to the man's throat. - -The movement gave Potter his opportunity. Wrenching his right hand free -he jerked a revolver from his coat pocket and brought the butt against -Rodgers' temple with stunning force. Rodgers sagged backward, then -regained his balance as Potter's revolver again descended on his head. -With a low moan he sank back, overturning a chair in his fall. - -As Potter bent over the half-conscious man a resounding knock at the -apartment door caused him to start upright. One hasty glance about the -room showed him that the window overlooking the fire-escape was open. -Potter's eyes sought the red coat. It lay on the floor, half hidden -under Rodgers. Stooping over, he seized one of the sleeves and tugged -at it. - -The action aroused Rodgers from his stupor and with such strength as -remained he grasped the sleeve also. It was an unequal tug-of-war. -Potter's cry of triumph was drowned by repeated knocking on the door -and the sound of raised voices demanding admittance. Not daring to -remain longer, he released his hold on the coat sleeve and bolted -through the window and down the fire-escape as an agile elevator boy -climbed through the pantry window from an adjoining balcony and popped -into the living room. He stopped aghast at sight of Rodgers, torn and -bleeding, and the chaotic condition of the overturned furniture. - -"My Lawd! What's been a-happenin'?" he gasped. "We heered ructions an' -I got de police." - -"Police!" The last word penetrated Rodgers' reeling senses, and his -eyes sought the red coat sleeve which he still grasped. - -"Yes; they're at the do' now," as renewed pounding echoed through the -place. - -"Go and let them in," commanded Rodgers; then, as the boy dashed down -the hall, he staggered to his feet over to the small dumb-waiter shaft -which was used to carry garbage cans, milk bottles and packages to the -apartment. But one idea was uppermost--the police must not get Kitty's -red coat. He had just time to open the door and thrust the red coat -down the chute and close the door again before two policemen appeared -in the room. Stars were dancing before Rodgers' eyes and he brushed his -hand across his forehead. He must think--think-- Should he have Potter -arrested? No, he would settle the score between them without police -aid. His hands clenched at the thought and he straightened up in spite -of the increasing sense of faintness which caused his knees to sag -under him. - -"What's happened?" demanded the foremost policeman. "Who attacked you?" - -"A burglar, evidently," replied Rodgers, sinking down in the nearest -chair. "I walked in on him. He went that way--" indicating the -fire-escape. - -"Chase down and see if you can catch him, Mike," ordered the first -speaker. "I'll search the apartment for any clues. Here--" observing -Rodgers' half-fainting condition--"Good Lord, he's keeled over!" - -An hour later Rodgers, his cuts treated by Dr. McLean, and finally left -alone by a too-solicitous policeman, went down into the basement of the -apartment house. He had no difficulty in locating the opening to the -dumb-waiter shaft. Looking inside, he found it empty. - -"What is it, Mr. Rodgers?" inquired the janitor's wife, a young colored -girl who acted as laundress for the tenants. - -"I'm looking for a red coat which I accidentally dropped down the -chute, Cora," Rodgers explained. - -"Mercy, Sir, I wish I'd known that was yours," she exclaimed. "It was -on top of a pile of trash and was so raggety that I just put the whole -business in the furnace." - -Rodgers stared at her aghast, then, collecting his wits, he dashed by -her and into the furnace room. The light from a hot fire half blinded -him as he flung open the furnace door. Lying on the flagging close to -the opening was a portion of the red coat--the rest was ashes. Rodgers -jerked out the piece of red cloth, and flinging it on the cement floor, -stamped out the smoldering flames. Paying no attention to Cora's -lamentations, he hurried upstairs, the precious piece in his hand. - -Once more in his apartment and with the door safely locked, he dropped -down on the lounge and regarded all that remained of the coat, as his -thoughts returned to Oscar and his fervid request that he "find Miss -Kitty's red coat." In what way was the red coat involved in the mystery -of Miss Baird's death? Why had the dealer in second-hand clothes wished -so ardently to buy it back? How had it gotten into his hands in the -first place? Above all, why did Ben Potter wish to gain possession of -it? - -Rodgers' head swam with the effort to find an answer to the enigma. -Sinking back against the cushions, he ran his hand over the piece of -red cloth. It was the front breadth of the coat and its patch pocket -that had remained intact. - -As Rodgers' fingers strayed inside the pocket his thoughts turned to -Kitty Baird--beautiful Kitty Baird--his best beloved. His restless -fingers closed over a small wad of paper pressed deep in the coat -pocket. A second later he had smoothed out the paper and, carrying it -to the light, strove to read the writing upon it. A whistle escaped him. - -"An 'I.O.U.,'" he exclaimed. "Devil take it, the signature's -undecipherable!" - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -A WORD OF WARNING - - -Kitty Baird regarded the butler with astonishment. - -"Mrs. Parsons is not at home," she repeated. "Why, Oscar brought me a -telephone message from her asking me to be here at noon and to lunch -with her." She consulted her watch. "Are you quite certain that she is -not in, James?" - -"Quite, Miss Kitty." The butler's solemnity of manner matched his -severe black clothes, which fitted his somewhat spare form with the -neatness of a glove. "Mrs. Parsons had forgotten a meeting of the -Neighborhood House Committee, and she left word that she was very sorry -to put you out. She said that she had no idea what time she would be -back, and that you were not to wait for her." - -"Oh!" The exclamation slipped from Kitty with some vigor. "Oh, very -well, James," with a quick change of tone. "Please tell Mrs. Parsons -that I called. Good morning." - -"Good morning, Miss Kitty." And James retreated inside the vestibule -and closed the front door. As he went through the hallway, intent on -reaching the servants' dining room by the shortest possible route, -he failed to see Mrs. Parsons standing in the folds of the porti�res -before the entrance to the small reception room, which, with the large -dining room, was on the ground floor of her English basement house. - -From her vantage point, Mrs. Parsons had overheard Kitty's conversation -with her butler. Slipping her front door key, with which she had gained -entrance some moments before, unknown to James, into her gold mesh bag, -she hurried to the small window which overlooked the street. Taking -care not to be seen by passers-by, Mrs. Parsons watched Kitty standing -by the curb, apparently in doubt as to whether to cross the street or -not. - -Kitty, in fact, was debating where she should lunch. Time hung heavy -on her hands, and the thought of the great empty house in Georgetown -sent a shiver down her spine. Neither Mandy nor Oscar were enlivening -company at the best of times, and since her aunt's death--Kitty -shivered again. Oscar's morbid relish of everything pertaining to the -tragedy, his incessant harping on the subject, had worked upon Kitty's -nerves, and except for her appreciation of his many years of devoted -service, she would have paid him several months' wages in advance and -let him go. - -Mandy, since the day of the discovery of Miss Susan Baird's dead body, -had moved over to "Rose Hill," bag and baggage, and Kitty had been -grateful for her watchful care. Unlike her husband, Mandy was not given -to talking and she had seen to it that Kitty had every attention, and -in her way had done much to shelter her from inquisitive callers. Mandy -looked upon the telephone as the invention of the Evil One, and nothing -would induce her to answer it, so that to Oscar had fallen the task of -keeping reporters away. His loquaciousness had, however, been checked -by a stringent command from Mr. Craige to refer all newspaper men to -him or to the police. The order had been emphasized with a hint that, -if not carried out, Oscar would be parted from what promised to be a -lucrative pension. Oscar had obeyed the order with much grumbling, but -his complaints were carefully confided to his wife alone and fell on -unsympathetic ears. - -"Go 'long, nigger; don't bother yo' betters," she had responded. "Ef -yo' ain't careful, Miss Kitty'll bounce us both. An' then whar'll we -be?" - -Kitty looked at her watch again. She had ample time to walk down -to the Allies' Inn for luncheon and she would feel better for the -exercise. Already the sunshine and fresh air had braced her up. Her -decision made, she waved away a taxi-driver hovering near the curb -with a watchful eye on her, and, turning, started down the street. -She was conscious of a man passing her at a rapid walk, but with her -head slightly bent and her thoughts elsewhere, she did not glance up. -The man ran up the three steps leading to Mrs. Parsons' front door, -stopped, turned around and looked at her. The next second Kitty heard -her name called by a familiar voice. - -"What luck!" exclaimed Leigh Wallace, as she waited for him to -approach. "Where are you going, Kitty?" - -"To the Allies' Inn for luncheon," she replied. "Mrs. Parsons is out, -Leigh; I've just been there." - -"Oh, ah!" Wallace twirled his swagger stick with such energy that it -almost slipped from his grasp. "In that case, Kitty, lunch with me at -the Shoreham? Don't say you won't," as she shook her head. "I must talk -to you--by yourself. Don't refuse, Kitty, don't." - -Kitty looked at him steadily. "We can talk as we walk along," she said -quietly. "Come." And her decided tone left Wallace nothing to do but -match his footstep to hers as she sauntered along. - -From her sheltered nook in the window Mrs. Parsons saw Major Wallace's -rapid approach to her front door, observed his belated recognition -of Kitty, heard his hail, and watched their leisurely walk down the -street. An odd smile crossed her lips as she dropped the window curtain -into place and went quietly to her bedroom. - -"Francise," she said, as her confidential maid rose on her entrance -and laid down some sewing, "tell James that I will lunch alone to-day. -Major Wallace is unexpectedly detained and has cancelled his engagement -with me." - -Kitty found Major Wallace a taciturn companion, and her efforts at -conversation elicited only absent-minded, monosyllabic replies as they -walked slowly down Connecticut Avenue. It was not until they reached H -Street that Wallace awoke from his abstraction. - -"The Shoreham is down this way," he expostulated as Kitty continued -walking straight ahead. "You must lunch with me, Kitty, you promised." - -"I did nothing of the sort," she retorted. "You said that you wished -to talk to me and you have had every opportunity to do so. Instead of -which you have been silent to the verge of rudeness. Frankly," and her -voice was decidedly chilly, "you owe me an explanation--" - -"That is just it," he broke in. "Why have you avoided me?" - -"I? Avoided you?" The scorn in Kitty's voice caused him to color -warmly. "I have done nothing of the sort." - -"You sent word that you 'begged to be excused' when I called to see -you," Wallace reminded her bitterly. - -"The words were of Oscar's choosing, not mine," she explained. "You -came the night of the inquest, and by Dr. McLean's orders I denied -myself to all callers--" - -"But you saw Ted Rodgers?" - -"Well, why not?" Her color deepened, but her eyes did not fall before -his angry gaze. "It is not your right to dictate to me about anything. -And besides," not giving him a chance to interrupt her, "you have had -ample time to call since then." - -"I've been ill--oh, hang it!" as a hurrying pedestrian collided against -him. "We can't talk here. There's no fun in being jostled about by -idiots!"--casting a vindictive glance at the offender, who had just -made the street car he had been running to catch. - -Kitty eyed Wallace sharply. Never before had she known him so upset in -speech and manner. As she observed the careworn lines in his face and -the mute appeal in his deep-set eyes, her anger cooled. - -"I will lunch with you, Leigh," she said. "But why make such a point of -it?" - -What answer Wallace would have made remained unspoken, as a mutual -acquaintance swooped down upon them and, utterly ignoring their lack -of cordiality, insisted upon accompanying them to the Shoreham. Once -inside the hotel restaurant, Wallace lost no time in securing a table -in a secluded corner and an attentive waiter took his order for -luncheon. - -"There, that's done," and Wallace, with a sigh of satisfaction, laid -down the menu card and contemplated Kitty with admiration but thinly -veiled. Her mourning was extremely becoming to her blonde beauty. "Is -this story true that I hear, Kitty, that your aunt has left you a -fortune?" - -Kitty considered him in silence. The question had been asked so often -by friends and acquaintances that it had lost its novelty; coming from -him it surprised her. - -"Mr. Craige assures me that I am no longer a pauper," she answered, and -her tone was dry. - -Wallace flushed. "The papers said that you were wealthy, very wealthy," -he persisted. - -"It depends on how you compute wealth," she said. "And how much faith -you put in newspapers." A faint mocking smile touched her lips and -vanished. "Why this interest in my fortune, Leigh?" - -"Because," he spoke with unconcealed bitterness, "it puts another -barrier between us. Your aunt's hatred, and now this, this--" - -"Please stop," Kitty raised her hand slightly. "Why keep up the farce -longer?" - -"Farce?" - -"Flirtation, if you like it better," she sighed involuntarily. "Just an -idle flirtation." - -"Idle nothing! You'd have married me if you hadn't met Ted Rodgers," he -blurted out. - -"Stop!" Her tone, though low, was imperative. "Here is luncheon. -Suppose we discuss another topic. When does Nina Potter return from New -York?" - -"I have no idea," shortly. "Have a muffin, do?" and he extended the -bread plate toward her, then relapsed into abstracted silence. - -Kitty's healthy young appetite, sharpened by her walk, did full justice -to the luncheon, and, not feeling inclined for conversation, she was -content to watch the groups of people seated at near-by tables. One -pair, obviously a bride and groom, especially attracted her and she -turned for another look at them as they left the restaurant. When she -faced around toward Wallace again, she saw their waiter slip a note -into his hand. It was deftly done and only Kitty's keen eyes detected -the act. Wallace, his face devoid of expression, laid the lunch check -and a bank note on the silver salver. - -"Never mind the change," he said to the waiter, and rising helped Kitty -put on her coat and adjust her furs. "I am sorry my car is in the paint -shop, but we will get a taxi at the door." - -"We'll do nothing of the sort," objected Kitty. "I don't propose to put -you to all that trouble, Leigh." - -Without answering, Wallace led the way down the corridor to the H -Street entrance. "Call a taxi," he directed the doorman, then turned -to Kitty. "Don't scold," he begged. "I am going to Fort Myer and it -will not take me out of my way to leave you at 'Rose Hill.' Here's the -car--" and before Kitty could protest further, she was bundled inside -the taxi. Wallace gave a few hurried directions to the chauffeur and -then sprang in beside her. - -The chauffeur was evidently a novice for he started his car with such -a jerk that Kitty was half thrown from her seat. With a muttered word -which strongly resembled a curse, Wallace picked up her bag and muff -and laid them in her lap. - -"The ---- fool!" His face was red with anger. "Sorry, Kitty, I have no -use for incompetents." - -Kitty watched him in wondering silence. In place of a sunny temperament -she found uncontrolled irritability; instead of the steady gaze she was -familiar with, she became aware of ever shifting eyes. What had changed -her cheery companion of the past into the nervous, unhappy man by her -side? - -Kitty sighed involuntarily. She had met Leigh Wallace four months -before, shortly after he was admitted as a patient at Walter Reed -Hospital, at a "birthday party" for the Walter Reed boys at the -Theodorus Bailey Myers Mason House, and they had become great friends. -Her aunt's dislike was so general, so far as her friends were -concerned, that Kitty had not taken seriously her objections to the -gay and handsome army officer. When she finally realized that Miss -Susan Baird had conceived what appeared to be an actual hatred of Leigh -Wallace, Kitty had tried to reason with her, but to no avail. When Miss -Susan Baird had once acquired an idea, the Rock of Gibraltar was as -jelly to her. - -Kitty had inherited some of the Baird obstinacy, and it was that -trait more than anything else which had fanned her liking into a -violent flirtation with Wallace. She considered her aunt unjust in her -treatment of him and resented her incivility. Her sympathies aroused, -she had almost persuaded herself that she was in love with him, and -then--Kitty's face flamed at the recollection. Then she had met Edward -Rodgers. - -Time had had no place in the development of their friendship. He had -been drawn to her with the same irresistible attraction which the North -Pole has for the magnetic needle. No word of love had ever passed his -lips, but his eyes--they had pleaded his suit more eloquently than any -words. - -Absorbed in her thoughts, Kitty was actually startled when the taxi -stopped in front of "Rose Hill." - -"Won't you come in?" she asked, as Wallace helped her out of the car. - -"No, thanks, I haven't time." Wallace looked up at the fine old mansion -and hesitated a moment. "I'll try and get in to-night or to-morrow. -Say, Kitty, why don't you go to a hotel?" - -"Do what?" Kitty's astonishment was obvious. - -"Close up your house," with hurried emphasis. "You ought not to live -there alone. What is Craige thinking of to let you do it?" - -"But I am not alone," she pointed out. "Oscar and Mandy are living with -me now. Besides--" it was her turn to hesitate. "The police wish the -house kept open." - -"They do, eh?" Wallace turned and scowled at the mansion. "Have you -heard anything, Kitty--any new theories about your aunt's death?" - -She shook her head. "I only know those published in the newspapers," -she answered. "The police do not make a confidante of me. Won't you -change your mind, Leigh, and come into the house?" - -"I really can't." Wallace walked with her up the terraced steps to the -front door and laid an impatient hand on the old-fashioned bell-pull. - -"Don't ring!" exclaimed Kitty. "Both of the servants are out. I have my -latch-key to the side door. Don't wait any longer, Leigh, if you are in -a hurry." - -"Sure you can get in?" Kitty nodded an affirmative. Wallace wavered -a moment, glanced at the bunch of keys which Kitty produced from her -muff, then cast a fleeting look at the walk which skirted the mansion. -"Kitty," he stepped closer to her side, his hands fumbling awkwardly -with his hat. "Did you and your aunt really quarrel about me on Sunday?" - -Kitty stepped back as if shot. "What an egotistical question?" she -stammered, with a brave attempt at a laugh. "On the contrary, Leigh, -Aunt Susan and I had words over a matter of no importance; as was our -habit. Good-by." - -"Good-by--" Wallace echoed her words mechanically, and, without a -further glance at her, ran down the steps. - -Kitty watched the taxi and its solitary passenger disappear up Q Street -before turning toward the brick walk which circled the house and led -to the large garden in the rear. She dreaded entering the house alone. -It was a feeling which she had not been able to conquer, and she had, -on the few occasions when she had gone out, always arranged to have -one of the servants in the house upon her return. Mandy had asked for -the afternoon off and Oscar, not being at home when Kitty left to go to -Mrs. Parsons, had probably not gotten back in time to be told by Mandy -before her departure that he was to await Kitty's return. - -Kitty shook herself. It was not yet four o'clock in the afternoon. It -was foolish to give way to nerves. But before turning into the walk, -Kitty took one final look down the terraced steps, hoping for a sight -of Mandy's substantial form or old Oscar's halting walk. Neither was -visible. As her glance swept upward, she saw a piece of crumpled paper -lying on the step just below her. Stooping over, she picked it up and, -observing writing upon it, smoothed out the paper. She had read the few -words it bore several times before she took in their meaning. - - Leigh, you are watched. - -Kitty turned the paper over. It was the one she had seen the waiter -at the Shoreham slip surreptitiously into Leigh Wallace's hand. She -recognized the delicate mauve shade of the paper--she also recognized -the handwriting. Why had Mrs. Parsons written such a warning to Leigh -Wallace? - -With her ideas in a whirl Kitty walked slowly around the mansion -and to the side door. It gave entrance to the library. There was a -perceptible pause before Kitty unlocked the door and entered the house. -She had grown to loathe the library. - -Mouchette, aroused from her slumber in front of the fireplace, -came forward with many "mews" to greet her. Kitty fondled the cat -affectionately before laying down her muff and fur piece on the nearest -chair. Going over to the chimney, she poked the smoldering embers on -the hearth into a feeble blaze and added some kindling wood. - -She had a sense of chill in the room apart from its lack of heat. She -could not dissociate her surroundings from the tragedy of Sunday. -In her mind's eye she saw always her aunt's body lying inert in the -throne-shaped chair and in memory she conjured up their last interview -on that fatal Sunday afternoon. Her aunt had not spared her feelings. -What was it that she had called her--an ingrate! And her last sentence -still echoed in Kitty's ears: - -"Mark my words, Kitty, if you don't conquer this infatuation for Leigh -Wallace, it will not be you alone who will suffer. It will kill me." - -As Kitty spread out her cold hands to the blaze her eyes again read the -message written by Mrs. Parsons on the mauve-colored paper, which she -still clutched in her fingers: - - Leigh, you are watched. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -BRIBERY - - -A resounding knock on the side door, through which she had entered -the library a few minutes before, caused Kitty to start violently -and her hand reached out instinctively to catch the mantel-piece to -steady herself. For a second she rested her weight against it, then, -controlling her nervousness, she thrust the mauve paper into the pocket -of her coat and with reluctance moved over to the side door. Callers -did not usually announce their presence in that manner. Miss Susan -Baird had never permitted what she termed "familiarity," and no friend, -no matter what the degree of intimacy, was ever admitted except through -the front door. Her dominating character had forced respect for her -peculiarities, and Kitty could recall no one, except herself, who had -ever cared to cross her aunt in any particular. - -With her hand on the door-knob, Kitty hesitated. She was alone in the -house and in no mood for visitors. Squaring her shoulders, she pulled -the door partly open. Inspector Mitchell was standing on the top step -of the small "stoop" which led to the brick walk. - -"Good afternoon, Miss Baird," he said, bowing affably. "Can you spare -me a few minutes of your time?" - -"Why, certainly." Kitty concealed her vexation. The inspector was the -last person she had expected to encounter. "Won't you come in?" and she -opened the door to a wider extent. Not waiting for him to remove his -overcoat, she hurried across the library and picking up a log from the -wood basket by the hearth she stirred the fire to a brighter blaze. On -facing about, she found the inspector standing in front of the side -door and regarding it with fixed attention. - -"This door does not seem exactly in keeping with this house," he said, -as Kitty approached him. "I've never seen a finer example of Colonial -architecture, but this--" laying his hand on the upper section of the -door--"this resembles a Dutch door." - -"That is exactly what it is, or rather, what Aunt Susan had it -converted into," Kitty explained. "Aunt Susan had a bad attack of -inflammatory rheumatism about fifteen years ago; she could not leave -the house and sat chiefly in this room. She was devoted to her garden -and had this side door cut in half so that she could see outside -without having to open the entire door." - -"And this panel in the upper half of the door?" Mitchell laid his hand -on it as he spoke. "Does it open?" - -"Yes, it is a sliding panel." Kitty stifled a yawn. "The builder's -idea of ornamentation, I presume--a door within a door." She smiled. -"And rusty with disuse. Oscar has an objection to cleaning brass, or -anything in fact that requires 'elbow grease.'" - -"The _latch_ is discolored," Mitchell amended. With a quick motion of -his hand he released the catch and pushed the panel backward. "But -there is no sign of rust in the hinges. Judging from the way this panel -moves, Miss Baird, it is well oiled. See for yourself." - -Kitty glanced at him in surprise before moving the panel back and -forth. Inspector Mitchell was right; it moved with ease and totally -without noise. When pushed to the farthest, the panel left an opening -about eight inches square. - -"What do you think of that, Miss Baird?" inquired Mitchell. - -"I'm sure I don't know." Kitty's eyebrows drew together in a perplexed -frown. "We never touched that panel; never had occasion to use it. -This," laying her hand on the upper part of the Dutch door, "we -frequently kept open in the summer as we get the southwestern breeze -through it. We never use this door as a means of exit except to go into -the garden." - -"You entered by it to-day upon your return," Mitchell remarked and -Kitty favored him with a blank stare. - -"Were you watching me?" she asked with a touch of coldness. - -"I was waiting in the summer house," Mitchell explained, ignoring her -manner. "No one answered the front bell and, as I wished very much to -see you, I killed time by strolling through the garden. Then you don't -generally use this entrance to the house?" - -"No." Kitty regarded him inquiringly, puzzled by his persistent -questions on a trivial subject. "Only since Aunt Susan's death. The -lock on this door is modern and the key a reasonable size to carry in -my hand bag. Perhaps you recall the key to the front door?" she could -not restrain a smile. "It is old-fashioned--" - -Mitchell nodded. "I recollect its size," he remarked dryly. "I found -it in the key-hole of the front door on Monday morning, just before we -discovered your aunt lying dead in this room. Haven't any idea how the -key got there then, have you?" - -Kitty turned pale. "At the coroner's inquest I told all that I know of -the circumstances surrounding my aunt's death." She faced him quickly. -"Have _you_ made no discoveries bearing on the crime?" - -"Only those brought out at the inquest," he replied, with noncommittal -brevity. "Come, Miss Baird, suppose we talk over some of the aspects of -the case. I won't detain you very long." - -Taking her consent for granted, Inspector Mitchell wheeled forward -an armchair and selected another for himself. Mouchette watched them -both, then, rising stiffly, deserted her favorite spot near the hearth -and perched herself in Kitty's lap, her loud purr testifying to her -contentment as Kitty passed her hands over the soft gray fur. Kitty did -not care to break the pause that followed. She was content to remain -silent and await developments. Mitchell did not leave her long in doubt -as to the direction his thoughts were tending. - -"Mr. Craige tells me that you have inherited a pretty fortune," he -began. "A very pretty fortune, to be exact. Now, your aunt, if you'll -excuse my directness, lived in, eh," he hesitated, "say, genteel -poverty." Kitty nodded somberly. Would people never stop harping on her -suddenly acquired wealth? "Where did your aunt get this money she left -to you?" - -"I have no idea," she replied. "I am as ignorant on the subject as you -are." - -Mitchell eyed her intently. Was it candor which prompted the direct -denial or duplicity? She appeared unconscious of his steady gaze, her -attention apparently centered on the flickering fire, and her hands, -clasped together, rested idly in her lap. Mitchell's profession had -made him a close student of human nature and as he studied her face, -partly turned from him, he concluded that Kitty did not lack strength -of character and will power, whatever her faults might be. - -Was her air of relaxation, of almost dumb inertia, a cloak to hide -high-strung, quivering nerves? If he could but shake her composure, -he might gain some key to the mystery of her aunt's murder. Mitchell -cleared his throat as he unobtrusively hitched his chair around to -obtain a more favorable angle from which to gauge her expression. - -"Had your aunt a large correspondence?" he asked. - -Kitty shook her head. "Aunt Susan abominated letter-writing," she -replied. "My godfather, Mr. Craige, attended to her few business -correspondents and I answered any invitations that came to us." - -"Had you any relations living outside of Washington?" he asked. - -"A few very distant cousins." She shrugged her shoulders. "My aunt did -not encourage intercourse with them." - -"Their names, please?" Mitchell pulled out a pencil and notebook and -thumbed its pages until he found a blank space. - -"A. J. Beekman of Detroit." Kitty watched him in some amusement. "Then -there was rather a large family of Smiths in Georgia--I'm sorry I can't -be more definite. Aunt Susan, as I said before, never cultivated her -relatives." - -"Did she actively dislike them?" - -Kitty straightened up and regarded him. "I don't catch your meaning?" - -"My meaning is clear." Mitchell spoke slowly, deliberately. "Did your -aunt actively dislike Major Leigh Wallace because of his relationship?" - -"His relationship?" echoed Kitty in bewilderment. "He is no relation." - -"I beg pardon," with a sarcastic smile. "I happen to know that Leigh -Wallace is your cousin." - -"Then your knowledge is greater than mine." Kitty curbed her quick -temper with an effort and added more quietly, "Whoever told you that -was misinformed." - -"I think not." Mitchell consulted his notebook before continuing. -"Colonel Marcus Holt of San Francisco, was your uncle, was he not?" - -"Yes. My mother, Louise Holt, was his sister." Kitty slipped her -arms out of her coat which she had kept on for warmth. The fire was -drawing nicely and for the first time she was conscious of the heat it -generated. "What prompts your interest in old Colonel Holt? I assure -you he died long before Aunt Susan." There was a touch of mockery in -her voice and Mitchell smiled grimly. - -"I am coming to my point," he said. "Holt's nephew is Major Leigh -Wallace." - -Kitty sat bolt upright with such suddenness that Mouchette nearly lost -her balance. With an offended air, the cat jumped to the floor and -crept under the nearest chair. - -"What!" exclaimed Kitty. "Are you sure?" - -"And therefore," went on Mitchell, paying no attention to her -interruption. "Leigh Wallace must be a relation of yours." - -"I suppose so," Kitty admitted thoughtfully. "But why had Leigh never -told me that we are related? He has never spoken of being a nephew of -Uncle Marcus." - -"Nor of inheriting the old colonel's fortune?" - -"Fortune?" Kitty looked blank. "Why, I have always understood that -Major Wallace had only his pay. I never knew that he was wealthy." - -"His fortune disappeared, the way fortunes have when dissipated -away," Mitchell was watching her like a lynx, but her expression of -friendly interest conveyed that and nothing more. The mention of -Leigh Wallace's name had not produced the result he had hoped for. -Kitty's composure had not been shaken. Could it be that she was not in -love with him, as rumor reported? Mitchell frowned. He was not making -headway. - -"Have you ever heard of the Holt will contest in San Francisco?" he -asked, after a brief pause. - -"Only in a general way. Aunt Susan spoke of it once or twice." Kitty -settled back in her chair again. "She never evinced any particular -interest in Uncle Marcus, and he on his part ignored our existence. To -go back to ancient history--" Kitty's smile was a trifle mischievous; -keeping Inspector Mitchell discussing harmless topics would prevent -his harping upon her aunt's death, and perhaps would hasten his -departure--"Uncle Marcus objected to mother marrying my father, and -naturally Aunt Susan resented the fact that her brother was unwelcome -to his wife's family." - -"So she nursed a grudge against them, did she?" - -"Oh, no; she simply had nothing to do with them." - -"Then this money which your aunt left to you couldn't have been given -to her by Colonel Holt in his lifetime?" asked Mitchell. - -"Good gracious, _no_." Kitty's astonishment was plain. "Aunt Susan's -prejudices were stronger even than her--" - -"Love of money?" - -Kitty flushed hotly. "I do not care to have slurs cast upon my aunt," -she said coldly. "She is not here to defend herself." - -"Hold on, Miss Baird," Mitchell protested. "You must realize that your -aunt hoarded this wealth which you inherited; otherwise she would have -spoken to you or to some one about it. She--" Mitchell came to a full -pause, then added impressively: "Your aunt was a miser." - -Kitty's color deepened, but the denial which loyalty prompted remained -unspoken. Her sense of justice told her that Inspector Mitchell had -spoken truly. What other motive, except love of money, had induced her -aunt to live in poverty when she had ample funds to enable her to enjoy -every luxury which money could buy? - -"Am I to conclude from your questions," she began, "that you connect my -aunt's hidden wealth with her murder?" - -"It seems a reasonable hypothesis," he replied. "Take the known facts -about the murder--first, your aunt was alone in the house on Sunday -afternoon--" - -"Was she?" - -"Do you know anything to the contrary?" quickly. - -"No. But," she hesitated, "some one must have been inside the house as -well as my aunt." - -"And that some one--?" - -"Murdered my aunt," looking him calmly in the eyes. "She never -committed suicide." - -Mitchell regarded her steadfastly. "Can you give me no hint of the -identity of your aunt's caller?" he asked. "Think carefully, Miss -Baird. Have you no suspicion who _might_ have murdered your aunt?" - -Kitty did not reply at once; instead her hand slipped inside her coat -pocket and her fingers closed about the small slip of mauve-colored -paper tucked underneath her handkerchief, while the message it bore -recurred to her: "Leigh, you are watched." - -To what did Mrs. Parsons' warning allude? To what _could_ it allude? -And why did Inspector Mitchell invariably drag Leigh Wallace's name -into their conversation? And what had inspired her aunt's hatred of -Leigh? Could it have been fear? Fear of what--Death? Kitty shuddered, -then pulled herself together. She must not let fancies run away with -her. - -"I know of no one who could have had a motive for killing poor Aunt -Susan," she said. "It must have been the work of some one afflicted -with homicidal tendencies." - -"I'll stake my reputation that it was no maniac," declared Mitchell. -"The crime was deliberately planned and by some one with nerves -absolutely under control. Look at the manner in which the poison was -administered--placed on one side of the knife-blade, so that the -prussic acid only touched the piece of peach given to your aunt, and -the murderer ate his half in perfect safety. It was neat, devilishly -neat!" - -"Have you found out where the peaches came from?" asked Kitty. - -"No, worse luck." Mitchell frowned. "Very few fruit stores make -deliveries on Sunday and those few deny sending any fruit here." - -"How about the Italian fruit stands? Have you questioned the dealers?" - -Mitchell smiled wryly. "Not many fruit dealers carry peaches at -this season. Our operatives have been pretty thorough in their -investigations." He paused before adding, "According to their reports -no one, man, woman, or child, purchased peaches on Sunday last." - -Kitty hesitated. "They may have come from a distance," she suggested. -"By parcel post or express. Have you thought of that?" - -"Yes, and we found that no package was left here by the express company -or post office employees." Mitchell paused to replace his notebook and -pencil in his pocket. "No, Miss Baird, the murderer brought those -peaches with him." - -"It would seem so," agreed Kitty, thoughtfully. - -"And it must have been some one who knew that your aunt liked peaches," -went on Mitchell. "Were her tastes generally known among your friends?" - -Kitty caught her breath sharply. The question recalled an incident -forgotten in the rush of events. Leigh Wallace, on the few occasions -when he had been invited to tea with them, had invariably preceded his -visit with a basket of fruit, and--each basket had contained peaches! - -"I suppose our friends knew that Aunt Susan liked peaches," she said. -Her hesitation, slight as it was, was not lost on Mitchell. "I never -gave the matter a thought." - -"Indeed?" Mitchell did not try to conceal his unbelief. "Do you see -much of Mr. Edward Rodgers?" - -Kitty actually jumped at the abruptness of the question and its nature. -"What earthly business is it of yours whether I see Mr. Rodgers or -not?" she demanded indignantly. - -"It is not my business." Mitchell smiled apologetically. "It just -occurred to me that he might have mentioned the Holt will contest to -you." - -"To me?" in genuine surprise. "Why should he speak about Uncle Marcus -and the contest over his will?" - -"Oh, I don't know," Mitchell whirled his hat about. "Mr. Rodgers was -called in as a handwriting expert. It was one of his big cases, and I -thought it likely he might have talked it over with you, seeing Colonel -Holt was your uncle." - -"I doubt if Mr. Rodgers knows that we were related. From what I have -seen of Mr. Rodgers," her color rose as she spoke, "I judge he seldom -discusses himself or his work." - -"Perhaps not." Mitchell walked over to the side door and laid his hand -on the knob. "I won't detain you any longer, Miss Baird. If you should -think of any one who ever evinced any great interest in your aunt's -fondness for peaches, just telephone me. Good afternoon." - -Left to herself Kitty stepped up to the fireplace and taking out the -piece of mauve-colored paper held it suspended over the flames. But her -clutching fingers did not relax their grasp and finally she tucked the -paper in the belt of her dress. She laughed mirthlessly as she walked -across the library and felt about for a box of matches. Inspector -Mitchell, whether he had attained the object of his call or not, had -sown seeds of suspicion. - -It had grown quite dark and the room, lighted only by fire, was filled -with shadows. Kitty passed a nervous hand over the table ornaments--the -matchbox which usually stood near the oil lamp had evidently been -misplaced. She was about to look elsewhere when the sound of voices -reached her. - -"I'se done looked an' looked," she heard Oscar say. "An' I tell yo' ole -Miss never left no such papers." - -"Please, please keep up your search," a woman's voice pleaded. "Please, -Oscar. I'll give you more than I promised--a hundred dollars more." - -Kitty straightened up and stared about her. The voices sounded clearly -in her ears, but surely she was alone in the library? Running over to -the tea table, she felt about and snatched up the much-sought matches. -The next instant she was back at the lamp and a second later the room -was illuminated. She was its only occupant. - -Where had the voices come from? As her eyes roved about the library she -spied the "Dutch" door near where she was standing. The little panel -in the upper half of the door had been left open and through it came -faintly the sound of receding footsteps. - -Throwing wide the door, Kitty stepped outside. In the gathering -darkness no one was visible. She paused in thought, her troubled eyes -trying to pierce the gloom of the desolate garden and the empty -pathway circling the mansion. The woman's voice still echoed in her -ears--where, where had she heard its haunting quality before? - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -AND CORRUPTION - - -Kitty paused before her bureau and inspected herself in the mirror. It -had been a relief to change from her street clothes to a dressing gown. -She had spent nearly an hour lying on the couch in her bedroom trying -to piece together the puzzling events of the afternoon. On re�ntering -the house she had gone at once to the servants' quarters; from there -she had searched every room, even to the attic. To all appearances -Oscar was not in the house. She had then waited in the library, hoping -to catch him on his entrance, but evidently he had accompanied the -unknown woman away from the house. - -Kitty struck her hands together in impotent wrath at the thought. Why -had she not realized immediately that the speakers were outside the -house, and not wasted precious minutes trying to light the lamp in the -library and thus given them time to slip away unseen! - -Who was the woman? Vainly, Kitty tried to identify her voice. Strive as -she did to recall where she had heard it before, it eluded her memory. -Why should any woman bribe old Oscar to steal papers which had belonged -to her aunt? - -With a sigh of utter weariness, Kitty gave up the problem for the -moment and continued her dressing. Twenty minutes later, her toilet -completed, she stopped before the cheval glass and gave a final pat to -her hair. At last, satisfied with her appearance, she hastened into the -hall. As she descended the staircase, she heard the rattle of dishes -in the dining room and the sound of the dumb-waiter creaking its way -upward. With flying footsteps she covered the intervening space and -crossed the hall to the pantry. - -"Oscar!" she called. "I wish to speak to you at once. Come here." - -But the person who stepped from the dining room into the pantry at her -imperious summons was not Oscar. - -"What yo' want, Miss Kitty?" asked Mandy. - -"Oscar!" She repeated the old servant's name with ever growing -impatience. "I must see him immediately." - -"Laws, Miss Kitty, Oscar's on his way to Front Royal, Virginia, dis -hyar minute," explained Mandy, in no wise hurrying her leisurely -speech. - -"On his way where?" gasped Kitty. - -"To Front Royal." Mandy lifted her apron and produced from a voluminous -pocket a much twisted telegram. "He done got dis hyar message to come -at wandst 'cause his brother, the one dat owns a farm five miles from -Front Royal, is a dyin'. See what dey done wrote," and she held out the -telegram. Kitty read the typed lines with interest before handing the -telegram back to Mandy. - -"Why didn't you tell me of this?" she demanded. "Oscar had no business -to leave without first speaking to me." - -"Laws, Miss Kitty, yo' warn't in de house an' we didn't know when yo' -'spected to be back," Mandy explained. "Oscar had to catch the three -o'clock train to get there to-night." - -"The three o'clock train," Kitty repeated. "The three o'clock train -_this afternoon_." - -"Yes, Miss Kitty." - -"But--" Kitty passed a bewildered hand across her forehead. "Oscar was -here at five o'clock--here at this house." - -"Here?" Mandy's eyes opened, showing the whites more clearly. "What yo' -talkin' 'bout, Miss Kitty?" - -"Oscar was here this afternoon at five o'clock," Kitty stated, speaking -more deliberately so as to make certain that Mandy understood what she -said. "I overheard him talking to a woman just outside the library -door." - -"Yo' did!" Mandy's uplifted voice as well as her expression registered -complete astonishment. "Did yo' see him?" - -"No. I tell you I overheard him talking to a woman." Kitty's temper -was gaining the upper hand, and she spoke with warmth. "I know Oscar's -voice, Mandy." - -"Yes, Miss Kitty," but the old colored woman still looked unconvinced. -"Dar's a heap o' niggers talks jes' like Oscar. Is yo' sure it warn't -dat worthless 'Rastus from nex' do'?" - -"I know it was not 'Rastus," declared Kitty, with emphasis. "Besides, -the woman, in speaking to Oscar, addressed him by name." - -"She did?" Mandy fell back a step and stared at Kitty. "Oh, go 'way, -Miss Kitty, yo' been dreamin'--why, 'twarn't possible. I went to de -depot with Oscar my own self an' saw Oscar get on dat train, an' it -done pull out fo' Front Royal at three o'clock this afternoon." - -It was Kitty's turn to stare at Mandy. The old woman's beady black eyes -did not shift their gaze. A full minute passed before Kitty broke the -silence. - -"When did you return, Mandy?" she asked. - -"'Bout six or a few minutes after," Mandy said. "I come upstairs an' -listened to hear ef yo' was in de house. I didn't hear nuffin' an' -didn't see no light, so I went back to de kitchen to get dinner. I -s'posed yo' hadn't come in." - -"I was lying down--" - -Mandy's worried expression changed to one of relief and she did not -permit Kitty to finish her sentence. - -"Dar now, I 'spects yo' jes' drap off to sleep an' dreamed 'bout Oscar -bein' hyar," she exclaimed. "Dat was it, Honey, dat was it!" - -"Oh, was that it?" Kitty's voice lacked heartiness. "All right, Mandy. -Serve dinner when it is ready." - -"Yes, Miss Kitty; it won't be a minute now. I'se got a real tasty -chicken a broilin'. Jes' go set down, chile; trust ole Mandy to look -after yo'." And she gave the girl's arm a friendly squeeze as Kitty -passed her to go into the dining room. - -Kitty did not sit down at once. Her thoughts were in a turmoil as -she paced up and down the room. Was Mandy right? Had she dreamed -overhearing an unknown woman offer Oscar a bribe to steal papers which -had belonged to her aunt? Her aimless footsteps carried her into the -library and to the Dutch door. The small panel stood open. Kitty's -eyes strayed from it to the telephone. On impulse she crossed to the -instrument and took up the telephone directory. It took her but a -moment to find the number she wished, then she paused. Should she call -Edward Rodgers or her cousin, Ben Potter? - -She had seen or heard nothing from either Ben or his wife since late -Tuesday afternoon after the inquest, when they had stopped for a -brief moment to tell of their contemplated trip to New York and to -suggest that she accompany them. She had been tempted to accept their -invitation. A longing to run away from the mansion which she had called -home from her earliest recollection, to separate herself from the -tragedy of her aunt's murder had almost overpowered her. But her sense -of horror at the crime, her determination to solve the mystery and -bring her aunt's murderer to justice had conquered, and she had stayed -on at the old house, refusing to follow Charles Craige's suggestion -that she engage a trained nurse as a companion and go to a hotel. Nina -Potter had promised to telephone to her immediately upon their return -from New York, but so far she had received no message from her. - -Kitty felt urgent need of clear-headed advice. Instinctively, she -took up the telephone instrument. She had not seen Edward Rodgers -since Tuesday night when they had discovered her aunt's will secreted -under the plaster cast of the Gila monster, but he would come at her -call--her woman's instinct told her that. - -The telephone bell sounded with such suddenness that she almost dropped -the instrument. Recovering herself she took off the receiver. - -"Is that you, Miss Baird?" Edward Rodgers' deep tones were music in her -ears. "Will you be in this evening? Can I see you?" - -His questions came in such swift succession that Kitty had no chance to -answer each individually. - -"Do come," she called back. "I'll be very glad to see you." - -"Righto--" The connection was poor and his voice sounded faintly over -the wires. "In about an hour." With heightened color she hung up the -receiver and Mandy, entering the dining room some seconds later, found -her sitting demurely at her place at the head of the table, waiting -patiently for the "tasty" broiled chicken. - -During the service of the meal, Mandy kept up a running chatter of -conversation, talking on any subject, regardless of its relevancy. -Several times Kitty regarded her in surprise; it was not like Mandy to -be garrulous. - -"I've been fixin' to tell yo'," she announced as she removed the -dessert plate, "dat Mrs. Potter done telephone yo' jes' a few minutes -after yo' left this mawnin'. I declare yo' put it outer my haid when -yo' telled me 'bout yo' dreamin' Oscar was hyar at five o'clock." - -"Did Mrs. Potter say how she was, Mandy?" asked Kitty, as she arose. - -"She had a mighty bad cold an' I couldn't hardly hear what she said, -noways." Mandy advanced, silver coffee pot in hand. "Ain't yo' gwine -ter take yo' coffee?" - -"Yes, in the library. And Mandy, bring another cup," Kitty paused. "I -am expecting Mr. Rodgers. There is the bell now--" - -Mandy was smiling to herself as she walked toward the front door. Her -smile broadened into an expansive grin at sight of Edward Rodgers. - -"Come right in, Sah: Miss Kitty's 'spectin' yo' in the lib'ry." She -hovered about while he removed his hat and overcoat. "I'se glad yo've -come; Miss Kitty's kinda peaked. It's nice yo' can keep her company." - -"Thanks." Rodgers' dry tone was totally lost on Mandy. With a -flourishing twist of the porti�res in front of the library door she -announced: - -"Mister Rodgers--" and discreetly disappeared inside her pantry. - -As Kitty felt Rodgers' strong handclasp and met his ardent gaze, her -heart beat more swiftly. Rodgers, scarcely conscious that he still -held her hand, was unaware of the brief pause, being content to watch -Kitty's piquant beauty. - -"I've wanted to see you--to be with you," he stammered. "It's been an -eternity." - -Kitty's soft laugh interrupted him. "Come and sit down," she said. "I'm -particularly glad you came to-night, for I want your advice badly." - -"You do?" Rodgers followed her to the leather-covered lounge and sat -down by her. "What about?" - -"Hush!" Kitty had caught the sound of Mandy's heavy tread in the hall. -"I'll tell you later after we have had our coffee. Come in, Mandy." -Kitty raised her voice. "Bring the tray here and place it on this -table." - -With Rodgers' aid the old servant made room on the table for her tray, -then, with a respectful "good night," she stumped away, taking care to -drop the porti�res back in place. As Rodgers bent to pick up a napkin -which he had inadvertently dropped, Kitty caught sight of the cuts on -his head partially covered by a dressing. - -"Good gracious! What have you done to yourself?" she cried. - -"Ran head first into a door," replied Rodgers. - -"Are you sure you are not badly hurt?" she asked gravely, noting the -pallor of his usually ruddy cheeks. At the solicitude in her voice -Rodgers colored and his eyes shone. - -"Quite sure," he said, then made haste to change the subject. "Have -you seen Ben Potter to-day?" - -"No. Nina telephoned to me this morning while I was out." She handed -him her empty coffee cup to put down. "I haven't seen Ben since the day -of the inquest." - -Rodgers hesitated a moment. "Forgive the question--but--are you and he -great friends?" - -Kitty regarded him gravely. "Not great friends; we sometimes have -spats," she admitted. A mischievous smile brought out her pretty -dimples. "Our last dispute was on the subject of deportment and dress. -I do not see how Nina stands his Puritanical ideas." - -"Doesn't he approve of gay colors?" - -"Gay colors!" Kitty laughed outright. "I should say not. Why, he nearly -had a fit whenever I appeared in my red coat." - -"He is a man of queer ideas," Rodgers commented dryly. "The red coat -was most becoming to you. By the way, I haven't seen you wear it -lately." - -"I am having the coat dyed--" Seeing his surprised expression, she -added, "Not because Ben disliked the color, but it was too faded." - -"Did _you_ take the coat to be dyed?" asked Rodgers, and she wondered -at the persistency of his gaze. - -"No. I gave it to Aunt Susan one day last week." Kitty sat bolt -upright. "Dear me, I wonder at which cleaning establishment she left -the coat." - -"You have no idea where it is?" - -"Not the faintest idea in this world; Aunt Susan never dealt long at -any one shop." Kitty shook her head. "The events of the past few days -put the coat entirely out of my mind." - -"Then your aunt was the last person to have your coat--?" - -"She was certainly the last person in this household to handle it," she -answered. "You speak as if the coat was of some consequence--" with a -quick surprised glance at him. - -Rogers paused as Oscar's warning recurred to him "She mustn't know -nawthin'." Whatever the old negro's reasons might be for asking -him not to discuss the red coat with Kitty--whether important or -unimportant--he would keep faith with the old negro and not tell her of -the incidents of the morning. - -"I always liked the coat," he declared. "Suppose you don't get it -back--?" - -"Oh, the cleaners, whoever they are, will probably send it back when -it is dyed so as to get paid," she answered carelessly. "It is a small -loss anyway for the coat was about worn out." She sighed involuntarily -and Rodgers looked at her intently. - -"Isn't this house getting on your nerves?" he asked, observing the -deep shadows under her eyes which told their story of wakeful nights -and frayed nerves. - -"Not so much the house as the mystery," she admitted, with a slight -shiver. "Have you discovered any clues?" - -Rodgers touched a small "I.O.U." paper safely tucked inside his -vest pocket. "Nothing of any consequence," he confessed. "I tried -to see Inspector Mitchell this afternoon, but he never returned to -Headquarters." - -"He was here." Kitty paused and considered her companion. The mention -of Inspector Mitchell brought back his questions about the Holt will -contest. "By the way, the inspector asked if you had ever told me about -the law suit over Colonel Holt's will." - -Rodgers laid down his cigarette case unopened. "The Holt will case," he -exclaimed. "Of what possible interest could that be to you?" - -"Colonel Holt was my uncle." Observing his surprised expression, she -added, "The inspector suggested that perhaps the fortune Aunt Susan -left to me was given to her by Colonel Holt. I told him the idea was -preposterous. Why, Aunt Susan would have nothing to do with Uncle -Marcus. To my knowledge she never saw him. I doubt if he even knew of -my existence." - -Rodgers selected a cigarette. "May I smoke?" he asked, and for answer -she handed him a box of matches. "I wish you and Colonel Holt had known -each other. He was a fine old man; looked like a soldier of the French -Empire." - -"Was he a friend of yours?" - -"I knew him slightly in a business way." Rodgers puffed at his -cigarette until he had it drawing nicely. "How did Mitchell come to -know that you were related?" - -"I don't know," Kitty laughed a trifle vexedly. "The inspector -evidently informed himself as to my relations; he even told me that -Leigh Wallace and I are cousins." - -Rodgers favored the "grandfather" clock across the library with a -prolonged stare. Kitty was commencing to wonder at his silence, when he -turned and addressed her. - -"So you and Leigh are cousins," he said. "I had not realized that -before. How near is the relationship?" - -"We are first cousins, if what Inspector Mitchell said is true. My -mother was Louise Holt, and I suppose her half-sister, Anne, was -Leigh's mother. Odd, is it not, that Leigh never spoke of being related -to me?" she added, after a slight pause. - -Rodgers' gaze was transferred from the clock to Kitty. "Was your aunt -aware of the relationship?" he asked. - -"I imagine not. We haven't spoken of Colonel Holt for years," she -answered. "Inspector Mitchell said the law suit was one of your big -cases." - -"I was called in as a handwriting expert." Rodgers moved restlessly. -"Has Mitchell discovered any clues to your aunt's murder?" - -"If he has, he has not confided them to me," she smiled mirthlessly. -"He has succeeded in making me feel very uncomfortable--" - -"In what way?" quickly. - -"With his suspicions," she hesitated. "He insinuated that--" she -did not complete her sentence; her eyes had strayed to the framed -photograph of Leigh Wallace standing on a near-by table. After all, -she could not voice her suspicions to Edward Rodgers. For nearly a -month she had been aware of a growing coolness between the two men, and -Wallace had been at no pains to conceal his anger whenever he had seen -Kitty walking or motoring with Rodgers. Kitty had never detected any -alteration in Rodgers' manner to Wallace. Whatever his opinion of the -latter's surly behavior it had been cloaked under his customary air of -good fellowship. - -"I have something to tell you of more importance than Inspector -Mitchell's veiled insinuations," she said, speaking rapidly to cover -her change of topic. "Just after the Inspector's departure I was -standing here by this table," indicating it as she spoke, "when the -sound of voices reached me and I heard Oscar say: 'I'se done looked -an' looked, an' I tell yo' ole Miss never left no sech papers.' And a -woman's voice replied: 'Please, please keep up your search, Oscar. I'll -give you more than I promised--a hundred dollars more.'" - -Rodgers threw away his cigarette and stared at Kitty. - -"Who was the woman?" he demanded. - -"I do not know." Kitty rose and walked over to the Dutch door. "I tried -to light the library lamp and wasted valuable seconds hunting for -matches. When I finally got the lamp lighted, I found that I was alone -in the library and the voices had come through this panel," laying her -hand on it as she spoke. "I dashed outside but Oscar and his companion -had disappeared in the darkness." - -Rodgers followed her to the Dutch door, his face expressing both -astonishment and deep attention. - -"Have you no idea who the woman was?" he asked. "Hasn't Oscar told you -her name and why she was bribing him?" - -"Oscar," Kitty paused and looked carefully about the library. "Oscar, -according to his wife, took the three o'clock train to Front Royal this -afternoon." - -"He did _what_?" shouted Rodgers, then at her startled look, he added -more quietly, "Do you mean that Oscar has left Washington?" - -"So Mandy told me." - -Rodgers considered Kitty in silence.... Oscar a runaway--the red coat -practically destroyed by fire--the I.O.U.-- - -Kitty was commencing to wonder at the prolonged silence when Rodgers -spoke. - -"At what hour did you overhear Oscar's conversation with the unknown -woman?" he asked. - -"About five o'clock." - -Rodgers stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I should say that there was a -nigger in the wood-pile," he said softly. "You are quite sure it was -Oscar talking to the woman." - -"Absolutely positive." - -"Did you recognize the woman's voice?" - -Kitty shook her head. "Her voice haunts me still," she said. "But I -cannot place it. The whole affair bewilders me. I do not know what to -think, what to conjecture. Our Oscar and Mandy, my aunt's faithful old -servants, in league against me? Has some one bribed them to lie and -steal--and with what object?" - -Rodgers did not reply at once. Suddenly he reached over and, pressing -the catch, slid the panel back and forth as Inspector Mitchell had done -several hours previously. His action reminded Kitty of the incident. - -"That panel seems to fascinate you men," she exclaimed. "Inspector -Mitchell spent fully ten minutes commenting upon its well oiled hinges -and its possible use." - -"Its use?" Rodgers' voice was of the carrying quality, and it sounded -distinctly through the open panel to a figure crouching in the shadow -of the house. "Has the panel been used for any special purpose?" - -"No, it is purely ornamental." - -"Didn't the postman ever drop mail through it?" - -"No. Our mail box is fastened to the front door." - -Rodgers' gaze had strayed to the floor. Stooping down he rubbed his -hand over the bare hardwood boards. "Your flooring is well worn right -here," he said. "Some weight or some one has stood here constantly. -Bend closer and you will see that the varnish is completely worn away." - -Kitty followed his suggestion. "I don't understand," she exclaimed, -standing erect. "It bewilders me. What does it mean?" - -"Some one has been using this panel--for what purpose we have yet to -find out." Rodgers spoke half to himself, then asked more loudly: "Have -you given all your aunt's papers to Mr. Craige?" - -"Yes--even old letters." - -"Do you know their contents?" - -"I did not stop to read them all." Kitty's troubled expression -deepened. "I gave him every paper I could find." - -"I am glad Mr. Craige has them," exclaimed Rodgers heartily. "If he has -the papers which the woman bribed Oscar to secure for her, we can solve -_that_ mystery. There is just one other question, Miss Baird. Did your -aunt see very much of Mrs. Amos Parsons?" - -Outside in the shadows the listening figure stiffened as it bent -dangerously close to catch Kitty's answer. - -"Not any more than Aunt Susan could help--" Kitty's tired young voice -held a hint of mirth as it came through the open panel. "She abominated -Mrs. Parsons and deeply resented my acting as her secretary." - -Rodgers contemplated Kitty for several seconds, then stepped briskly -toward the telephone. - -"With your permission," he said, "I'll call up Mr. Craige and ask if he -can see us this evening." - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -BOUND IN RED TAPE - - -"Whar yo' goin', Honey, at dis time o' night?" Mandy's voice was raised -in shocked expostulation and Kitty could not refrain from a smile. She -had interrupted the old servant in the act of arranging her bedroom -for the night when she had entered a moment before and taken her heavy -overcoat and hat out of the closet. - -"Mr. Rodgers is going to run me over to see my godfather, Mr. Craige," -she explained as she arranged her veil. "Don't wait up for me, Mandy; I -have the key of the side door and can let myself in. You are not afraid -to stay here alone, are you?" - -"No'm." But Mandy spoke with no enthusiasm. "I ain't skeered, kexactly, -but yo' won't be very late, will yo'?" - -"Oh, no." Kitty glanced at the clock on her dressing table. "It is -only a quarter of nine, Mandy; I'll be back within the hour. Sit down -before the fire," pointing to the grate where Mandy, with solicitous -forethought had built a coal fire for her young mistress to enjoy -when undressing, "and make yourself comfortable. Don't stay in a cold -kitchen." - -"Thank yo', Miss Kitty. I 'spects I'd ruther stay up hyar, it's mo' -cheerful." Mandy walked into the hall with her. "Mind yo' keep that -collar buttoned up." - -"All right, Mandy." Kitty, touched by the old woman's care for her, -laid her hand for a minute on her rounded shoulder. "Don't worry and -keep warm." - -Mandy waited in the hall, her woolly head, covered with a bright -bandanna handkerchief, cocked in a listening attitude until she heard -Kitty and Ted Rodgers depart and the side door closed. Taking a general -survey of the empty hall, Mandy limped back into Kitty's bedroom and -drew a tufted armchair up to the grate, selecting a "comfortable" from -those stored in the hall closet and wrapping herself in it, she settled -down in the chair. For a time she was wakeful, but as the hands of the -clock approached the hour, her head drooped sideways and a subdued -snore gave proof that she had fallen asleep. So sound was her slumber -that the incessant clatter of the bell on the branch telephone, which -Kitty had had installed the day before, made no impression upon her. - -From her corner near the fire the angora cat, Mouchette, slumbered -also. A shower of sparks, as a piece of burning cannel-coal dropped -through the grate, singed her fur and woke her just as a figure crept -through the partly open bedroom door and into the room. Its objective -seemed to be an old-fashioned secretary in the southeast corner of the -room. At sight of Mandy, asleep in the chair, the intruder paused, -listened attentively to her regular breathing, then, reassured, moved -onward across the room, followed by Mouchette's large yellow eyes. - -The cat licked her singed fur, then, with a faint "mew," started in the -direction of the secretary. A second later a graceful leap had landed -her on the chair beside it, and she purred contentedly as the intruder -turned and gently stroked her head. In her chair by the fire old Mandy -snored peacefully, oblivious alike of the rustle of papers being -removed from the secretary and the antics of the cat. - -Kitty was relieved to find Ted Rodgers a silent companion as they -drove out to Chevy Chase, for she was in no mood for small talk. The -rush of the cold air against her hot cheeks and the steady throb of -the motor as the car raced up one hill and down another brought a -sense of relaxation and rest to her tired nerves. A restless longing -to get out of the house, away from her thoughts, had pursued her all -day. The big, silent man by her side and his air of protection were -a tonic in themselves, and she forgot her sorrows and perplexities -in the enjoyment of the unexpected trip to Chevy Chase, Washington's -fashionable suburb. - -Nearly a year before, Charles Craige had purchased from one of his -clients a cottage in Chevy Chase and had moved his Lares and Penates -from his bachelor apartment in the Hadleigh. His English butler, -Lambert, and the latter's wife, Mildred, ran his house for him, as -they had his apartment. Invitations to his hospitable entertainments -were eagerly sought, for he was a born host and nothing gave him more -delight than to have his friends about him. Mothers with marriageable -daughters and widows never lost hope of catching so worthwhile a -_parti_ and Craige had been reported engaged upon numerous occasions. -Kitty had always entertained a genuine affection for her godfather, -to whose kind offices she had owed many attentions upon her d�but in -Washington society. It was he who had introduced her to Mrs. Parsons, -and through his suggestion the gay widow had secured Kitty as her -social secretary. - -In what seemed an incredibly short time to Kitty, Ted Rodgers drove -his roadster under the _porte-coch�re_ of "Hideaway." Lambert came -immediately in answer to Kitty's ring, and his usually solemn manner -thawed at the sight of her. - -"The master will be 'ere in a moment," he explained, helping them off -with their wraps. "Just step into the living room, Miss Kitty. I 'ave a -fresh fire laid there. Mr. Craige told me you were h'expected." - -The living room always aroused Ted Rodgers' admiration, for it -represented his idea of comfort combined with good taste. Craige had -a love of art and an appreciation of the beautiful and ample means to -gratify both. In furnishing his house, he had spared no expense. - -"Aunt Susan was very fond of this room," Kitty said as she wandered -about examining the paintings on the walls. "She and Mr. Craige were -great cronies. In fact," and Kitty's smile showed each pretty dimple, -"he was about the only man she approved of." - -"So she told me," Rodgers' smile was fleeting. "I wasn't in her -good graces--" he stooped to pick up the fire-tongs which Lambert -had inadvertently left lying on the floor before the brass fender -when hurrying to answer the front door bell. "Your aunt gave me to -understand at our last interview that I was _persona non grata_. Had -she lived," Rodgers paused and looked at Kitty, "I imagine she would -have tried to turn you against me." - -Kitty blushed. "It wasn't you in particular," she began impulsively. -"Aunt Susan was frequently discourteous to my friends. There were none -she liked when she found they--they--that is, that they liked me." She -laughed to cover her confusion. - -"They wished to marry you--as I do--" the words caught her unawares. -"Kitty, my darling," he pleaded. "Don't turn from me; give me a chance. -I've loved you so silently, so deeply--" his voice shook with feeling. -"You have grown to be my life--my religion--" - -"Hush!" - -"No; you must hear me, Kitty." He was pale with the intensity of his -emotion. "I thought that I could be content just to see you--to be with -you; but it has gone beyond that. I must _know_ if there is a chance -for me. Is there, my dearest? I know that I am unworthy--" - -Kitty's heart was beating to suffocation as she turned bravely and -faced him. She had flirted many a time before and had turned aside a -proposal with light-hearted banter, but her coquetry had deserted her -utterly. - -"Ted!" she whispered. - -"Kitty!" In an instant his arms were about her. "Kitty!" His voice -deepened. "My best beloved--" and as she raised her head to look into -his eyes their lips met in the first kiss of love. - -Forgetful of all else save each other, the lovers were brought back -to the everyday world and their surroundings by a determined cough. -Looking hastily around, Kitty spied Charles Craige regarding them from -the doorway. - -"Sorry to interrupt," he said dryly; then as Kitty ran to him, her eyes -like twin stars and the rich color mantling her cheeks, his manner -altered and his tone grew tender. "Dear child, in so far as I may, I -give you a father's blessing. Rodgers, you are to be congratulated," -and his hearty handshake emphasized his words. His eyes strayed to a -large portrait photograph of Mrs. Amos Parsons which was the chief -ornament on the mantel-piece. "I can understand and appreciate your -happiness," he added. "I hope some day soon to tell you I have won the -dearest woman in the world--" - -"Except one--" broke in Rodgers, glancing proudly at Kitty. - -"Perhaps so," agreed Craige cheerily. "And when is the engagement to be -announced?" - -"Oh, don't say a word about it, please," Kitty begged; then, with a -quick shy glance at Rodgers, "We must keep the secret until the mystery -surrounding Aunt Susan's death is solved." - -"It makes a double incentive to clear up the case," declared Rodgers. -"Come, Kitty, sit by the fire and I'll explain to Craige the errand -which brought us to see him to-night." - -Obediently, Kitty curled herself up on the big sofa which stood facing -the huge open fireplace. Her unhappy restlessness had deserted her. -In its stead a feeling of peace, of renewed courage and unutterable -happiness encompassed her, and she was content to sit idly by and watch -the two men. As they stood with their backs to the fire, she was struck -by their distinguished appearance. Craige, with his iron-grey hair and -dark moustache, was the handsomer of the two, but Kitty decided that -Rodgers' more rugged features, offset by the deep dimple, almost a -cleft in his chin, indicated the more determined character. His dark -hair was inclined to curl, in spite of every effort on his part to keep -it straight, and Kitty liked its wavy appearance better than the severe -style which Craige preferred. As Craige held a match to Rodgers' cigar -she was surprised by their similarity in height. Had any one asked her -she would have said that Rodgers was the heavier and the taller by a -quarter of an inch. - -"This afternoon," Rodgers had waited to commence his explanation of -their call until his cigar was drawing nicely. "Kitty overheard an -unknown woman bribe Oscar to steal some papers which had belonged to -her aunt, Miss Susan Baird." - -"That is interesting," Craige pulled his mustache thoughtfully. "You -say the woman was unknown. Describe her appearance, Kitty." - -"I can't, for I did not see her," she explained. "The woman had gone -when I looked into the garden, and Oscar with her." - -"Then you haven't questioned Oscar?" - -"Oscar," Kitty spoke more slowly, "according to Mandy, Oscar was on the -train to Front Royal this afternoon, but I can swear that it was Oscar -I heard; also the woman called him by name." - -"Then it must have been Oscar," Craige commented dryly. "And Mandy lied -to you." - -"What could have been her object?" asked Kitty. "She must realize that -we can trace Oscar's whereabouts." - -"That is already being done by the police," Rodgers put in quickly. "I -called up Inspector Mitchell from your house, Kitty, while you were -upstairs getting your wraps, and told him that Oscar had disappeared. -He promised to try and locate the old man at once." - -"Good!" Craige's tone spoke his satisfaction. "Now, as to the woman, -did her voice give you no clue to her identity, Kitty?" - -"No, I could not place it--" Kitty hesitated. "But I am convinced that -I have heard her voice before." - -"Very likely," agreed Craige. "It must have been some one who knew -your aunt, and therefore is probably acquainted with you, also. Now, -what papers could she have wanted?" - -"That is the question which has brought us to see you," Kitty -explained. "Yesterday I gave you the contents of Aunt Susan's desk--" - -"Her papers are here--" As he spoke, Craige went over to a table and -pulling out one of the drawers, carried it back to the sofa and put -it down by Kitty. "Hereafter I will keep all Susan's papers in my -office vault, now that I know some one is vitally interested in gaining -possession of them." - -"Have you looked them over?" questioned Rodgers. - -Craige nodded assent. "They are receipted bills for taxes, marketing, -and so forth. See, Kitty," holding up a bundle neatly tied with red -tape. "Your aunt was very methodical." - -"She was indeed," Kitty sighed as she untied one of the bundles. -"Suppose we each take a package and run through it." - -Silence prevailed while the packages were being opened and gone over -with a thoroughness which omitted nothing. Kitty's nimble fingers made -quicker work of the knotted red tape and therefore to her fell the last -bundle in the drawer. As she turned over the commonplace receipted -bills, most of them for groceries and coal, she thought bitterly of -the frugality which she and her aunt had needlessly practiced, and of -the years she had spent in denying herself pleasures which the average -American girl accepts, not as luxuries, but as necessities. Expert -bank officials had estimated the negotiable securities and money left -by her aunt as totalling over eight hundred thousand dollars--nearly a -million--and her aunt had lived a life of genteel poverty during all -the years that Kitty could remember. - -As Kitty sorted the bills in her lap, a small envelope, yellow and worn -with age, tumbled out. She opened it and, unfolding the old-fashioned -note paper, read the cramped penmanship with some difficulty. - -"This is evidently a love letter addressed to Aunt Susan," she -exclaimed. "Listen," and she read aloud: - - RICHMOND, VA., April 1, 1867. - MY DARLING SUSAN: - - I have called upon your mother and disclosed my affection for you, and - she has graciously given me permission to marry you. - - I hope that I may never meet with your disapprobation. - - Transported with joy and expectation, I am - - Your fond lover, - JAMES LEIGH WALLACE. - -Kitty looked at her companions in wide-eyed astonishment. "James Leigh -Wallace," she repeated. "Who could that be?" - -"Leigh Wallace's father," Rodgers replied. "I knew the old man. But--" -he paused, "that James Leigh Wallace married Colonel Holt's sister, -Anne Holt." - -Craige completed his examination of old receipts and retied the bundle. -"Do you suppose, Kitty, that your aunt could have been secretly -married?" he asked. - -For answer Kitty held up a small object and a newspaper clipping which -she had taken a second before from the envelope containing the love -letter. - -"It is a withered rose," she said softly, holding it out in the palm -of her hand. "And this--" she opened the clipping--"the notice of the -marriage in San Francisco of Anne Holt to James Leigh Wallace, on April -1, 1869." She looked up in wonder. "See, here at the bottom of the -clipping is written one word in Aunt Susan's handwriting--'jilted!'" - -Craige was the first to speak. - -"It is not surprising that Miss Susan Baird hated young Leigh Wallace," -he remarked quietly. "She was not the type of woman to forgive an -injury or forget an insult." - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -A STARTLING ENCOUNTER - - -Ted Rodgers ran down the three steps leading to the _porte-coch�re_ of -"Hideaway," and opened the door of his car. - -"Wouldn't you like to drive?" he asked, turning to Kitty standing in -the doorway with Charles Craige. Kitty's hesitation was brief. - -"Indeed I would!" she exclaimed. "I feel all keyed up--" - -Craige smiled indulgently. "Get as much pleasure as you can," he -advised. "You deserve the good things of life, Kitty. Now, put your -aunt's tragic death out of your mind--for to-night, at least," -observing her sober expression. "I will see you to-morrow and we will -make a further search among your aunt's belongings for the papers -wanted so mysteriously. Rodgers, take good care of her," and he waved -his hand in farewell as Kitty started the car down the driveway. - -Craige's picturesque cottage, "Hideaway," concealed from its neighbors -by tall box hedges, was located on a street near Chevy Chase Circle, -and, as their car made the turn around it, Rodgers bent closer to Kitty. - -"Let's run through Rock Creek Park," he coaxed. "It isn't very much -further, and--" his voice grew very tender. "I want so to talk to you -all by yourself." - -Kitty wavered a moment in doubt. She had promised Mandy to return -within the hour--but she had already stayed more than an hour at her -godfather's home. Probably Mandy had long since gone to bed. Rodgers' -hand on her's settled her hesitation as, with tender clasp, he turned -the steering wheel toward the road leading into the park. - -The heavy wind of the early evening had died down and as they sped -down the moonlit road Kitty's cup of happiness seemed filled to the -brim. They drove in silence--the silence of perfect companionship and -understanding--each content with the other's presence and their thought -of one another. - -"Stop here a moment; the view over the Park is wonderful." Rodgers -leaned forward and pushed up the windshield to the farthest limit. "You -can see better now." But when Kitty slowed down at the side of the road -she found him regarding her and not the moonlight on the rolling hills -and valley before them. - -"You meant it, Kitty; you _do_ care for me?" he asked wistfully. -"Really care?" - -Kitty's soft laugh held happiness behind it. "I care so much--" her -voice dropped to a mere whisper and he had to lean still closer to -catch what she said. "My love is yours, always--always." - -Rodgers held her in close embrace. "My beloved," he murmured and he -kissed her with a fervor which left her breathless. - -"Ted," she said, a little later. "Aunt Susan's love letter haunts me. -It told a pitiful story." - -He nodded soberly. "Perhaps that is what warped her nature," he -suggested. "James Leigh Wallace was an out-and-out scoundrel. He -gambled his soul away--anything to gain money to lose in some gambling -hell." - -"I never heard of him before," she replied. "Now I understand Aunt -Susan's antipathy to his son. I thought it unreasoning dislike. -Leigh--" she hesitated. - -"I've been so jealous of Leigh," Rodgers confessed. "Every one thought -you were engaged." - -"People are such idiots!" she ejaculated, then added almost in a -whisper, "It was always you, dear, never Leigh, that I cared for. He -was with me because--because Nina Potter and I were together." - -A low whistle escaped Rodgers. "By jove!" he exclaimed. "I did hear -some time ago that Leigh was attentive to a Miss Underwood--it never -dawned on me that she was the one who married Ben Potter." - -"Did you know Leigh very well in San Francisco?" asked Kitty. - -"Pretty well, before he entered the army--civilian appointment, you -know," he added. "I used to see him frequently at Mrs. Parsons' home -in San Francisco. By the way, Ben was a great friend of hers in those -days." - -"Who, Mrs. Parsons--?" quickly. - -"Yes--some people thought she might marry him." - -Kitty smiled. "The idea is droll," she commented. "Ben has chosen a -much more suitable wife. I cannot imagine Mrs. Parsons and Ben in love -with each other; they are such opposite natures. But, dear," turning -troubled eyes toward him, "you say Mrs. Parsons and Leigh were good -friends--there's something I must tell you. Just vague suspicions," she -hesitated. "I cannot bear to be disloyal--to harbor suspicions against -a man I have called my friend, but--" she took from her pocket a piece -of mauve-colored paper--"I lunched with Leigh to-day at the Shoreham -and our waiter slipped this paper into his hand. Leigh carelessly -dropped it on my doorstep, and not realizing what I was doing, I read -it." - -Rodgers took the paper and, holding it under the dash-light, peered at -the writing. "Leigh, you are watched," he read the words aloud and then -reversed the paper. - -"There is nothing else on it," Kitty explained. "But the message is in -Mrs. Parsons' handwriting." - -In the darkness Kitty failed to see Rodgers' odd expression. After -waiting vainly for some comment, she added, "Do you suppose that Mrs. -Parsons suspects Leigh is in some way responsible for Aunt Susan's -death?" - -"That might be inferred." Rodgers folded the paper and placed it -carefully in his leather wallet. "With your permission, I'll keep this." - -"Certainly, Ted." Kitty put her foot on the self-starter. "I am only -too thankful to give it to you and to have you, dear, to confide in." -He returned her warm handclasp with a grip that hurt. "But, Ted, how is -it that Mrs. Parsons knows that the police are watching Leigh?" - -"The police?" echoed Rodgers. "Oh, ah, yes. Perhaps she has had -another call from Inspector Mitchell; I saw him coming away from there -yesterday." - -"But why in the world should he confide in Mrs. Parsons?" - -"I don't know--" Rodgers was frowning in the darkness, and Kitty, -intent on starting the car, did not notice the alteration in his voice. -"I don't know why any one puts trust in Mrs. Parsons." - -"Why, Ted!" Kitty looked at him in surprise. "I never knew you disliked -Mrs. Parsons." - -"I have no use for her," he admitted. "I never did like cats--even your -Mouchette." - -"Imagine putting Mrs. Parsons in a class with Mouchette," Kitty -chuckled, then grew grave. "Ted, you don't suppose, really suppose, -that Leigh could have killed Aunt Susan, a defenceless old lady." - -"With a serpent's tongue." The words were no sooner spoken than Rodgers -regretted them. "Forgive me, darling--" - -"I know poor Aunt Susan was not loved--." A sigh escaped Kitty. "Can it -be that Aunt Susan quarreled with Leigh over his father's treatment of -her--" - -"It might be," Rodgers' tone was grave. "But so far we do not even know -that Leigh was at your house on Sunday afternoon. Don't brood over -the tragedy, Kitty: forget it, for to-night, at least. Here's a clear -stretch of road ahead--step on the gas." - -Instinctively, Kitty followed his suggestion and the car shot ahead. -The wind fanned their cheeks through the opened windshield, and Kitty -was conscious of a feeling of exhilaration as they tore onward, -gathering speed with each throb of the powerful engine. In the distance -Kitty descried a car approaching and dimmed her headlights. The -courtesy was not returned; instead a spotlight swung directly on them -and Kitty, blinded by the glare, swerved to the right as the oncoming -car swept up. She heard a deafening report, something swished by her, -and the car raced up the road they had just traversed. - -Checking the speed of her own car, Kitty swung it back into the center -of the road and turned, white-lipped, to Rodgers. - -"How dare they drive like that!" she gasped. "They must be drunk or -cra--" Her voice failed her at sight of Rodgers sitting huddled back in -the car--there was something unnatural in his pose which chilled the -blood in her veins. "Ted!" - -Her call met with no response. - -Slowly she put out her hand and touched his shoulder; then her hand -crept upward to his face and forehead. What she touched felt moist -and sticky. She jerked her hand downward so that the light from the -dash-lamp fell upon it. It was covered with blood. - -There was a sound of a thousand Niagaras roaring in her ears as she -brought the roadster to a standstill and turned to Rodgers. Bending -down she pressed her ear over his heart--its feeble beat reassured -her--he was still alive. - -Kitty searched frantically for her handkerchief and for his. Tying -them together she bound his wound as best she could; then with -compressed lips and in breathless haste she started the car headlong -for Washington. As they tore madly down the road, one question only -throbbed through her aching head: - -Who had shot her lover? - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -"K. B." - - -Inspector Mitchell looked at the policeman standing in front of his -desk with approval. - -"You have done well, Donovan," he exclaimed. - -"Exactly at what hour was Major Leigh Wallace seen leaving 'Rose Hill' -on Sunday afternoon?" - -"Mrs. Murray claims that it was about five o'clock or a little after," -Donovan replied, consulting his notes. - -"And why hasn't she reported this before?" - -"She's been ill with the grippe, and all news of the murder was kept -from her," the policeman answered. "She told her boy to-day, after -learning about Miss Baird's death, to watch for me when I was on my -beat. I went over to see her the moment my relief came. It wasn't an -hour ago," looking at the office clock which registered half-past nine, -"Mrs. Murray said she would be glad to talk to you to-morrow, but -to-night she feels too weak." - -"Which is her house?" - -"The one next to the Baird mansion on the east--this way--" Donovan -moved his hands about to demonstrate his sense of direction. "It's the -house you have to pass to return to Washington." - -"Was Major Wallace in his car on Sunday afternoon?" - -"No, sir, he was walking." Donovan waited a moment before adding, "Mrs. -Murray swears she knows Major Wallace well by sight; that she's seen -him too often waiting for Miss Kitty Baird to be mistaken. She was just -stepping into her front walk when the Major brushed by her in such a -devil of a hurry that he nearly knocked her down." - -Mitchell closed the drawers of his desk, locked them, and arose. "That -is all now, Donovan," he said. "Report at once if you obtain any -further information. Don't wait to come in person, telephone." - -"All right, Inspector," and saluting, Donovan hurried away. The door -had hardly closed after him before it opened to admit a plain clothes -detective. - -"Well, Welsh, what luck?" Mitchell asked eagerly. - -"An old colored man did board the three o'clock train this afternoon -for Front Royal, Inspector," he reported. "The gatekeeper and one of -the porters declared that he answered the description you furnished." - -"Was a woman with him?" - -"No, sir; not that I can find out. Every one swears that the old man -was alone." - -Mitchell considered the answer in silence. "There is nothing for it but -a trip to Front Royal," he said finally. "Go there, Welsh, and find out -if Oscar Jackson arrived there to-day on the _three o'clock_ train--no -later train, mind you--from Washington. I understood Mr. Rodgers to -say that Oscar is from Front Royal and has relatives living in its -vicinity. Therefore he is known and I don't anticipate that you will -have difficulty in locating him. Keep me informed by telephone." - -"Very good, Inspector." Welsh paused half way to the door as a thought -struck him. "Did you get a message from Mr. Benjamin Potter?" - -"No. What did he want?" - -"He didn't say." Welsh again started for the door. "Just asked to have -you call him up. Wasn't his wife one of the witnesses at the Baird -inquest?" - -"She was--" Mitchell was already reaching for the telephone directory. -"As you go out, Welsh, tell Allen to bring my car around at once." - -Getting the Potter apartment on the telephone was more difficult than -Mitchell expected; the naturalist used a private wire and it was only -by virtue of his office that Mitchell was supplied with the number by -"Information." Another wait ensued as Central claimed the wire "busy," -and it was with perceptible irritation that the Inspector answered the -hoarse, "Hello," that finally responded to his repeated calls. - -"Can I speak to Mr. Potter?" he asked. - -"Mr. Potter is out--" a violent cough interrupted the speaker. "Is -there any message?" - -"Who is speaking?" - -"Mrs. Potter." - -"I beg pardon, Madam." Mitchell moderated his voice. "This is Detective -Headquarters--Inspector Mitchell on the 'phone. Your husband left word -for me to telephone to him. Do you know what he wished?" - -"No." The curtness of her tone annoyed Mitchell. - -"When will your husband return?" he asked, raising his voice. - -"Very soon, I imagine." There was a pause, and Mitchell concluded she -was consulting her watch, for she went on, "It is nearly ten o'clock. -Shall I have Mr. Potter call you?" - -Mitchell considered before replying. "No. I may have to go out, so I -will ring him up. Thank you, Madam; good night." He barely caught her -hoarsely echoed "Good night," before hanging up the receiver. - -Mitchell paused to jot down the Potters' telephone number in his -notebook, then, securing his hat and overcoat, made for the street. -Only pausing to exchange a hasty greeting with a brother officer, he -jumped into the police car. - -"The Baird house in Georgetown, Allen," he directed, and sat in -impatient silence as they whirled through the city streets. He was -tired of inaction. Whatever the hour he could not rest until he had -interviewed Kitty Baird. Mitchell had gained his promotion to inspector -through ability, backed by dogged determination. He had early decided -that the mystery of Miss Baird's murder could best be solved through -watching Kitty Baird and, as he had expressed it earlier that evening -to Coroner Penfield, "wringing the truth from her." - -"She benefited by her aunt's death and, by heaven, she is the only one -living who did," he had declared. "And it stands one hundred to one -that if she doesn't actually know who bumped her aunt off, she can make -a mighty accurate guess." - -Mitchell's temper did not cool down on his arrival at "Rose Hill," but -on the contrary gathered heat as he stood before the front door and -rang the bell with increasing vigor as the minutes lengthened. The door -was finally opened a tiny bit, and through the crack a pair of beady -black eyes peered at him in the uncertain light. - -"Who's dar?" demanded Mandy, her trembling tones belying her -belligerent attitude as she braced herself so as to shut the door in -case the caller pushed against it. - -"Inspector Mitchell," the latter announced briefly. "Let me in, Mandy." - -Slowly the door was pulled open, but it was not until the old servant -could distinguish Mitchell's features with the aid of the hall light -that she stepped aside and allowed him to enter. - -"What yo' want?" she asked. - -"To see Miss Kitty Baird." - -"At this time o' night?" in scandalized surprise. - -"That's all right about the hour," with marked impatience. "Go tell her -I am here." - -Mandy wavered--the power of the law as represented by a policeman, not -to mention an inspector, loomed large in her vision. - -"Miss Kitty am out," she announced briefly. - -"At this hour?" Mitchell smiled skeptically. "Go call her, Mandy." - -"'Deed I'se tellin' yo' de truff," she protested. "She went out wif -Mister Edward Rodgers early in de evenin', an' she ain't come back, -'cause I'se been awaitin' up fo' her." - -Mitchell stared at Mandy, then, putting out his hand, shut the front -door. - -"Go to bed," he said, not unkindly. "I'll wait here and let Miss Baird -in when she returns." - -But Mandy did not budge. "Yo' means well," she said, somewhat -mollified. "But I cain't go to bed 'till Miss Kitty gets in. If yo' -care to set awhile, come right in to de lib'ry." - -Mitchell stopped her as she turned to go down the hall. "Let me stay in -the parlor," he said. "I can see Miss Baird and Mr. Rodgers when they -drive up. I wish to speak to Mr. Rodgers as well as Miss Baird, and he -may leave without entering the house." - -Mandy retraced her steps to a closed door. "De parlor's been kep' shut -up so long I 'spects yo'll freeze," she said. "Dar ain't much heat -comes in hyar from de furnace." - -"That's all right; I'll keep on my overcoat." Mitchell stepped briskly -into the room. "Let me light the gas, Mandy," as the old servant -fumbled with the gas fixture, stiffened from lack of use. "Run along, -now." - -"Yes, sir," but Mandy lingered by the door. "I'll be up in Miss Kitty's -bedroom--jes' fetch a yell ef yo' needs me, Mister Inspector." - -As he listened to Mandy's halting footsteps growing fainter and fainter -as she climbed wearily upstairs, Mitchell contemplated the large -square room filled with "period" furniture. The old brocades were -shabby and the rugs worn, but there was an indefinable atmosphere of -the refinement of a bygone generation which time and neglect had not -destroyed. - -Mitchell raised the shades in the windows overlooking Q Street and -peered outside. No automobile except his own, waiting at the curb, -was in sight. Satisfied on that point, he opened the window ever so -slightly that he might be sure and hear a car drive up to the door, and -then, to occupy his time, he wandered about the room and examined the -many pieces of bric-a-brac on the mantel and in cabinets. - -One cabinet in particular attracted his attention. It was a fine piece -of Florentine workmanship and remarkably well preserved. The floor -of the cabinet held miniatures of, presumably, ancestors of Miss -Susan Baird, and after a cursory glance at them, Mitchell scanned the -articles on the glass shelves. A set of carved ivory chessmen awoke his -admiration and observing that the key was in the door of the cabinet he -opened it. After examining the little chessmen, he turned his attention -to the ivory checkers and then to the two ivory cups for holding dice. -The carving on them was very fine and to see them better Mitchell -carried them to the gas light. - -Glancing at the red dice cup, he was surprised to find cotton stuffed -inside it. Setting down the other cup, Mitchell pulled out the layer -of cotton and found a small bottle standing upright. It was held in the -center of the cup by cotton packed around it. Drawing out the bottle he -held it up to the light. It was almost empty. Mitchell pulled out the -glass stopper and sniffed at the contents. A distinct smell of bitter -almonds caused him to draw in his breath sharply. - -"Prussic acid!" he muttered. "By God! And Miss Susan Baird was poisoned -with a dose of it." - -There was no label on the small phial. Taking out his handkerchief -Mitchell replaced the glass stopper, and wrapped his handkerchief -about the phial. Putting it carefully in his pocket, he paused for a -moment to take another look at the dice cups, then replaced them in the -cabinet. He and two of his assistants had made a complete and searching -examination of the parlor immediately after the discovery of the crime. -Mitchell was willing to swear that neither cotton nor phial had been in -the dice cup then. Who had hidden the incriminating evidence there? Who -had had the opportunity to do so? Kitty Baird.... - -Mitchell frowned heavily as he ran over in his mind the list of callers -at the Baird home since the tragedy became known. The house was under -surveillance and he felt confident no one had evaded the watchful eyes -of his operatives. He dismissed the majority of callers--friends -and acquaintances who had left cards and letters of condolence--and -his thoughts centered on those whom old Oscar had admitted--Charles -Craige, Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Potter, Edward Rodgers, and Major Leigh -Wallace--but to the best of his knowledge the Major had _not_ been -inside the Baird house. He had seen Kitty and Wallace arrive that -afternoon, but Wallace had departed without entering; therefore, he -could not have had an opportunity to secrete the bottle of poison in -the ivory dice cup. - -But Mitchell's puzzled expression did not lighten, instead it deepened. -He was wrong, Wallace had been in the house after the discovery of -the murder, for he had accompanied Dr. Leonard McLean to the house -on Monday morning. Could the young officer have slipped unseen into -the parlor and concealed the bottle of poison while he, Mitchell, and -Coroner Penfield were superintending the removal of Miss Baird's body -from the library to her bedroom? - -Bah! the idea was absurd. A man would not return to the scene of a -murder with incriminating evidence in his pocket when he had had -hours in which to throw away the poison without arousing suspicion. -But supposing Wallace had, in the horror of the moment, forgotten the -bottle? Mitchell shook his head in disbelief. Whoever perpetrated so -cold-blooded and premeditated a crime was not apt to overlook getting -rid of the poison at the first opportunity. - -With Wallace eliminated, Mitchell turned his thoughts to Kitty's -other callers--Ben Potter and his pretty wife, and Charles Craige, -the brilliant lawyer and popular clubman. Mitchell smiled broadly--no -possible motive linked them in any way, shape or manner with the crime. -Edward Rodgers--Mitchell frowned as Mrs. Parsons' confidences recurred -to him. Whatever his connection with the Holt will case, nothing had -occurred to associate Rodgers with the murder of Miss Baird. The fact -that he was madly in love with her niece was patent to all, but it did -not constitute evidence that he had a hand in murdering her aunt. - -The exhaust from an automobile broke the stillness and Mitchell paused -only long enough at the window to see that a car had stopped near his. -The next second he was hurrying down the terraced steps, his mind -made up. Kitty had quarreled with her aunt on Sunday afternoon; she -had inherited her wealth, and she had had the greatest opportunity to -slip the bottle of prussic acid into its hiding place unknown to any -one. There were questions which Kitty alone could answer, and she must -answer them immediately. - -As Mitchell hurried to the side of the automobile, its owner stepped -on the running board and faced him. - -"Mr. Potter!" exclaimed Mitchell. "Did they tell you at Headquarters -that I was here?" - -Potter peered at him in uncertainty for a second. "Oh, Inspector," he -said. "I'm glad to see you, but I had no idea you were here. The fact -is," lowering his voice as Allen, tired of waiting in Mitchell's car, -climbed out on the sidewalk and drew near the two men. "My wife called -up Miss Baird and couldn't get an answer. We both felt concerned about -my cousin and I ran over to see if anything was the matter. Why are you -here?" - -"I wanted to talk to Miss Baird," Mitchell answered. "However, she is -out--" - -"Out? At this hour?" - -"Yes. Mandy told me that she was motoring with Mr. Rodgers," explained -Mitchell. "I decided to wait for her return, and when you drove up, I -thought it was Mr. Rodgers." - -Potter's expression hardened. "I don't approve of Kitty going out at -night with Rodgers without a chaperon," he grumbled. "Nor is it proper -for her to live in this lonely house with only ignorant servants." He -turned back to his car and lifted out a camera and several packages. -"Kitty left these at our apartment on Saturday, and Nina asked me to -bring them to her before the chemicals get mixed with mine." - -"Chemicals," repeated Mitchell softly. "What kind of chemicals?" - -"For developing negatives." Potter started for the house and Mitchell -kept pace with him. "Kitty has quite a craze that way--does good work -for an amateur. Some of her animal studies are excellent, especially of -her cat, Mouchette." - -"Seems to me there are quite a number of poisons used in developing -films and negatives," Mitchell remarked thoughtfully. - -"Yes, get all you want at a kodak shop. Kitty bought a new supply last -Saturday," Potter replied carelessly. "Good Lord! What's that?" - -The exclamation was drawn from him by the sound of a motor horn which -grew in volume as the car approached nearer and both men looked down Q -Street. - -"Gee! Some one's breaking the law!" exclaimed Allen, attracted by the -oncoming car whose headlights brightened the whole street. - -With a grinding of brakes and totally regardless of stopping on the -wrong side of the street, the driver drew up to the curb close to -the three men and Mitchell recognized Kitty Baird sitting behind the -steering wheel. - -"Come here, quick!" she called. "_Quick!_" - -"Kitty!" Potter sprang to her side. "What's wrong, child? What's -happened? Don't look so terrified." - -"Ted has been shot!" Kitty was on the sidewalk and around the car with -lightning speed. "Don't stand there talking--help me carry Ted into my -house and then go for a doctor." - -Mitchell brushed her unceremoniously aside and looked in the car. The -sight of Rodgers' unconscious form called for action. - -"Come here, Allen," he called. "Take hold--gently, man, gently." - -It seemed an age to Kitty before the three men carried their burden up -the long terraced steps and into the house. - -"Go up to the bedroom at the head of the stairs," she directed. -"Mandy," to the colored woman who, aroused by the noise of tramping -feet and voices, appeared at the top of the staircase. "Show them into -the spare bedroom and help them get the bed ready for Mr. Rodgers. I'll -telephone at once for Dr. McLean." - -Twenty minutes later Kitty stood with clenched hands waiting for the -surgeon's verdict. She had paced the hall until physical exhaustion had -called a halt. - -"Will he live, doctor?" she asked. "Don't keep me in suspense." And -the agony in her eyes caused McLean to hurry his usually slow speech. - -"Yes, if there are no complications--" - -Kitty waited to hear no more. Turning abruptly, she stumbled toward her -own room--she could not face any one just then. She had reached the end -of endurance. - -"Miss Baird," Mitchell's stern voice caused her to falter just outside -her bedroom door. "Who shot Edward Rodgers?" - -"I don't know," she stammered. "We were coming home through Rock -Creek Park and a car dashed by us. I was blinded by its headlights. I -heard a report--" she caught her breath sharply. "I turned and found -Mr. Rodgers sitting unconscious--wounded as you found him. I brought -him home--ah, I can't talk to you now--go--go!" And she half walked, -half staggered across the threshold of her bedroom and into Mandy's -sympathetic arms. - -Mitchell went slowly downstairs and out into the street. Allen, his -chauffeur, was standing by Edward Rodgers' car, and at sight of the -inspector waved a beckoning hand. - -"See here, Sir," he said, turning the rays of his electric torch into -the body of the roadster. "See that!" - -Mitchell stared at the revolver for several seconds. It lay just under -the gear shift. Putting on his gloves, Mitchell picked it up gingerly. - -"Have you handled the revolver, Allen?" he asked. - -"No, sir. After the doctor and the nurse came, I returned here and put -out the headlights which Miss Baird had left burning; then I saw the -revolver lying just there on the floor of the car." - -A step behind him caused Mitchell to turn around. - -"Hello, what have you there?" asked Ben Potter. - -"A revolver." Mitchell held it so that Allen's torch fell directly upon -it. "And a revolver which has been recently discharged judging from the -smell of burnt powder." - -Potter whistled, then bent down for a better look. "By heaven!" he -exclaimed. "That's Kitty's revolver. I had her initials engraved upon -it--see--" - -And turning the revolver slightly, Mitchell was able to decipher the -letters on the plate: "K.B." - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -ELUSIVE CLUES - - -Inspector Mitchell felt extremely pleased with himself as he hurried -along Seventeenth Street in the direction of the Munitions Building. In -his interview with Mrs. Augustus Murray of Georgetown, an hour before, -he had been unable to shake her confidence in her claim that she had -met Major Leigh Wallace leaving the Baird mansion on Sunday afternoon -about five minutes past five o'clock. Mrs. Murray supplemented her -original statement with the information that the Major never had the -decency to apologize to her, when he ran against her in his blind haste. - -Upon leaving Mrs. Murray, Inspector Mitchell went at once to Major -Wallace's boarding house where he learned that he had missed the young -officer by ten minutes only. - -"He's gone to the Army Dispensary in the Munitions Building for -treatment," Mrs. Harris, the landlady, informed him. "Dear knows, I -hope the treatment does him some good. The way he moans in his sleep -is something awful." - -"Ah, is Major Wallace troubled with insomnia?" asked Mitchell. - -"I don't know what he's troubled with." Mrs. Harris was not blessed -with an even temper, and when it was aroused generally vented her -ill-humor on the first person encountered. "His room is next to mine -and the partition is mighty thin. It makes my flesh crawl to hear him -moan and when he cries out, 'Kitty!' and again, 'That damned cat,' I -just have to pound on the wall and wake him up." - -"Perhaps he has an antipathy to cats," remarked Mitchell, restraining a -smile. - -"Mebbe he has; anyway I can't say that I'm sorry he's going--" - -"Going where?" - -"Out west somewhere," vaguely. "If you hurry you may catch Major -Wallace at the Dispensary; he's usually there about two hours." And -taking the broad hint Mitchell bowed himself out of the boarding house. - -Unable to secure a taxicab at the Dupont Circle stand in place of the -police car and Allen, whom he had sent on an errand earlier in the -morning, Mitchell boarded a southbound street car and, standing on the -forward platform, kept a sharp look-out for Major Wallace. He reached -the corner of H Street, however, without catching up with him, and -leaving the car continued on down Seventeenth Street. - -So absorbed was Inspector Mitchell in his own thoughts that he failed -to return Mrs. Parsons' bow as her motor passed him on its way up the -street. At a word from Mrs. Parsons, her chauffeur swung the touring -car around and up to the curb just as Mitchell started to cross D -Street. The sound of his name caused him to glance around and he saw -Mrs. Parsons beckoning to him. - -"Can I give you a lift, Inspector?" she asked as he approached. "You -appear to be in a hurry." - -"Thanks." Mitchell wasted no superfluous words but seated himself with -alacrity by Mrs. Parsons' side. - -"Where to, sir?" questioned the chauffeur, touching his cap as he -closed the door. - -"Munitions Building--that is," and Mitchell turned inquiringly toward -Mrs. Parsons, "if it won't take you out of your way?" - -"Not at all," Mrs. Parsons' smile was most engaging. "The car and I are -at your service, Inspector. I have no engagements this morning." She -paused to wave her hand to the occupants of a passing car, then turned -once more to the silent inspector. "Has anything new developed in the -Baird murder mystery?" - -"Only what was in the morning newspapers," answered Mitchell guardedly. - -Mrs. Parsons' gay laugh interrupted him. "I applaud your caution," she -said. "The morning newspapers contained no news whatever. Perhaps my -question was overstepping etiquette, but how about the other matter -about which I consulted you? I mean Edward Rodgers and his erstwhile -friend, Major Leigh Wallace. What of them?" - -Mitchell considered the pretty widow before replying. Her limpid -brown eyes were raised to his with an appealing earnestness that was -irresistible. - -"I am on my way to see Major Wallace now," he said. "I had hoped to -overtake him before he reached the Munitions Building." - -"Not by walking, surely," she laughed. "Major Wallace is driving his -car to-day and he seldom keeps within the city's speed limit. And -to-day was no exception judging from the way he passed me on the way -downtown." - -"Indeed?" He turned so that he could face her as they talked. "His -landlady informed me that Major Wallace plans to leave shortly for the -west." - -Mrs. Parsons raised her eyebrows in polite surprise. "So soon," she -murmured. "How odd! And--" her voice gained in sharpness, "does Edward -Rodgers also plan to leave Washington?" - -"I don't know what he _had_ planned," with quiet emphasis. "But he is -not going anywhere just now." - -"Why not?" - -"Because he was shot last night." - -Mrs. Parsons' convulsive jump almost precipitated her out of the car as -the chauffeur made the turn into the street leading to the Munitions -Building. - -"What--what did you say?" she stammered. - -"I did not mean to startle you," Mitchell spoke contritely, alarmed by -her pallor. "I thought that you had heard the news." - -"I have heard nothing--" she spoke rapidly, clipping her words. "There -was nothing in the morning paper--" - -"No, we didn't give it out to the press." - -"Then how did you expect me to know anything of the shooting?" - -"I thought Miss Kitty Baird might have telephoned to you--" Mitchell -was watching her closely. "She didn't, eh?" - -"No." Mrs. Parsons sat back more comfortably in her car. "Was Mr. -Rodgers killed?" - -Mitchell shook his head. "Seriously injured," he said soberly. "It's a -bad business." - -"How did the shooting occur?" she asked. The car had stopped before the -lower entrance to the Munitions Building, but Mrs. Parsons motioned to -her chauffeur to wait as he started to open the car door. - -"Oh, some one was skylarking in Rock Creek Park and shot Mr. Rodgers -as he and Miss Kitty Baird were motoring home last night," explained -Mitchell. "Another case of an innocent bystander." - -"It _was_ an accident, then." Mrs. Parsons raised her scented -handkerchief and touched her lips. "I thought--it just occurred to me -that he might have tried suicide." - -Mitchell regarded her fixedly for a second. "You haven't a great -admiration for Edward Rodgers," he remarked dryly. "No, it was _not_ a -case of suicide." He stepped to the sidewalk. "Thanks very much, Mrs. -Parsons, for bringing me down. Good morning." - -Mrs. Parsons controlled her impulse to stop him. - -"Good morning," she answered, and her voice was honey sweet, but her -chauffeur, happening to meet her glance, quailed at the flash of rage -which darkened her eyes and then was gone. "'Rose Hill,' Perkins." The -sharp command caused him to thank his stars that he had left his engine -running. Mrs. Parsons' uncertain temper had not endeared her to her -servants. - -The trip to Georgetown consumed less than ten minutes and Mrs. Parsons -had assumed her ordinary expression of tranquil boredom when Perkins -returned with the message that "Miss Baird would be happy to see Mrs. -Parsons." - -It was the first time Mrs. Parsons had been to call upon Kitty since -the murder of her aunt, and she could not repress curious glances -about her as she passed Mandy and went into the familiar library. She -had hardly seated herself before the sound of a light footstep on the -staircase leading down from the gallery into the library caused her to -look up and she saw Kitty. - -"My dear child!" she exclaimed, advancing with outstretched hands which -Kitty grasped while submitting gracefully to the dainty kiss which -accompanied her greeting. "My heart aches for you. Your face tells me -how you have suffered!" and she traced the dark circles under Kitty's -eyes with her finger-tip. "Is there nothing I can do for you?" - -Kitty did not reply at once; instead she busied herself in pulling -forward a chair. She was given to acting upon impulse and Mrs. Parsons' -unexpected appearance clinched a half-formed resolve made in the early -hours of the morning while watching by Edward Rodgers' bedside. - -"There is something you can do," she said, and her smile was very -winning. "Tell me why you wrote a note of warning to Leigh Wallace?" - -The question was unexpected and Mrs. Parsons was taken off her guard. - -"He showed it to you!" she gasped. "How dared he?" - -Kitty watched the color come and go in Mrs. Parsons' white cheeks with -interest. It was seldom that the widow showed emotion. "I am waiting -for an answer to my question," she reminded her quietly. - -"Let Leigh Wallace supply the answer." Mrs. Parsons had herself in hand -again. "He can--if he has not already left town." - -Kitty did her best to repress a start, but the keen eyes watching her -under half-closed lids detected it. - -"Suppose we leave Leigh out of the question," Kitty controlled her -voice admirably. "Would you rather answer me or the police?" - -"The police?" Mrs. Parsons laughed tolerantly. "Dear child, the strain -you have been under distorts your ideas. Why the police?" - -"Because they are endeavoring to solve the mystery of my aunt's -murder." Kitty nothing daunted by the older woman's evasions was -determined to fight in the open. "I am convinced, Mrs. Parsons, that -Leigh--and you--have a guilty knowledge of that crime." - -Only the most astute observer could have translated the swift change -in Mrs. Parsons' expression. Even to Kitty's prejudiced ears her low -amused laugh rang true. - -"You have dug up a mare's nest," Mrs. Parsons replied. "To think that -you should consider that I had a hand in poor, dear Miss Susan's death! -Why, my dear, it would be insulting if it was not ludicrous." - -Kitty flushed with wrath; Mrs. Parsons' ridicule was hard to bear. -After all, was the widow right--had she dug up a mare's nest? There was -nothing but that note of warning to Leigh Wallace to connect her in the -slightest degree with the tragedy. - -"Will you tell me to what your note referred," she asked, "if not to my -aunt's murder?" - -"You overstep my patience." Mrs. Parsons drew herself up with a -displeased gesture. "I decline to be questioned further on the subject." - -"Miss Baird--" the interruption came from the doorway and both Kitty -and her guest whirled around to see a white-capped nurse watching them. -"Mr. Rodgers keeps calling for you. Will you come, please?" - -"Yes, immediately." Kitty was half way to the door when Mrs. Parsons -addressed her with eagerness in her voice. - -"Is Mr. Rodgers here?" she asked. - -"Yes." Kitty's impatience was marked. "We brought him here after -the--the accident. Dr. McLean thought it best not to move him to a -hospital. Please don't detain me." - -"But, my dear," Mrs. Parsons paused just in front of her. "Are you here -alone--unchaperoned?" - -"My cousin, Nina Potter, came last night to be with me--" - -"Oh, I am relieved," Mrs. Parsons purred out the words. "No one can -afford to defy the conventions. If your cousin was not here, I would -volunteer myself--" - -"Thanks--excuse me, Mrs. Parsons--" The porti�res opened and closed -behind her vanishing figure and Mrs. Parsons found herself alone in the -library. - -Raising her gold lorgnette Mrs. Parsons took a prolonged survey of the -throne-shaped chair standing in its customary place behind the tea -table. It required but little stretch of the imagination to visualize -Miss Susan Baird presiding over the tea cups, her hawklike nose and -piercing eyes. In spite of the warmth of the library, Mrs. Parsons -shivered and drew her costly fur coat more closely about her. - -With some hesitancy she approached the tea table and scanned the -antique silver tea service. She had admired it on many occasions. -Taking up the teapot she reversed it and tried to decipher the hall -mark; failing to do so she examined first the cream pitcher and -then the sugar bowl. As she lowered the bowl, she glanced across -the tea table and saw two large yellow eyes regarding her from the -throne-shaped chair. - -Mouchette stood in the chair with her fore-paws resting on the table -and her fluffy tail was lashing itself into a fury. It was the cat's -evident intention to spring upon the table and Mrs. Parsons retreated -precipitously. She hated cats. As she passed the table, she dropped -the sugar bowl on its polished surface. The bowl skidded, half righted -itself, then fell to the floor, the heavy rug deadening the noise. With -it went a small object unseen by Mrs. Parsons who, not stopping to pick -up the bowl, proceeded into the hall. - -Mouchette, surprised by Mrs. Parsons' rapid retreat, stood where she -was for an instant, then jumped lightly to the floor and sniffed at -the sugar bowl. Going over to the small object lying by the bowl she -sniffed at that, stretched out an inquisitive paw, gave it a gentle -pat, watched it roll a short distance, then convinced that she had a -plaything after her own heart, the cat proceeded to roll it hither and -yon. - -Mrs. Parsons was making straight for the front door when she caught -sight of some one in the parlor, the door of which stood ajar. With a -quiet air of authority she entered the room. So silently did she move -that not until Nina Potter turned away from the Florentine cabinet was -she aware of Mrs. Parsons' presence. The ivory chessman which she held -slipped from her fingers and shattered on the hardwood floor. - -"Oh, what a pity!" Mrs. Parsons' air of concern sat prettily upon her. -"My dear Nina, did I startle you? I am so distressed." - -"You did," admitted Nina with a rueful smile. "The quinine I have taken -for my cold has made me quite deaf. Does Kitty know that you are here?" - -"I have just seen her," Mrs. Parsons selected a chair and motioned Nina -to one beside it. She did not propose to have her call cut short. She -had found her source of information. "Kitty had to go upstairs to be -with Edward Rodgers. When did the shooting occur?" - -"Late last night." Nina moved uneasily; she knew Mrs. Parsons' -predilection for scandal. - -"And where--" with gentle insistence. - -"In Rock Creek Park." Nina's hoarse voice rasped Mrs. Parsons' ears. -She was sensitive to sound. "Ben was here when Kitty returned with Ted -Rodgers, and he came right home and brought me back to stay with Kitty." - -Mrs. Parsons eyed her in silence, noting every detail of her pretty -morning dress as well as the unusual redness of her eyelids and the -nervous twitching of her hands. - -"How fortunate for you," she exclaimed. Nina looked up and caught her -eyes; for a moment their glances held, then Nina looked away. - -"I don't catch your meaning," she faltered. - -"No?"--with a rising inflection which implied doubt, and Nina blushed -painfully. Mrs. Parsons avoided looking at her; instead she inspected -the furniture in the parlor and shuddered. "Such taste in decoration," -she said calmly. "But then Kitty can change all that with the fortune -Miss Susan Baird left to her. What a sensation the news of her wealth -has made in Washington! Has no one asked _you_ how Miss Baird acquired -it?" - -Nina's color slowly ebbed away. The eyes she turned on Mrs. Parsons -were like some hunted animal. - -"You--you know?" she stammered. - -Mrs. Parsons nodded her head. - -"Confide in me, my dear Nina," she spoke with a world of sympathy in -voice and manner. "I know that I can aid you." - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -SUSPICION - - -It was not often that Charles Craige was late in keeping an appointment -with Mrs. Parsons. But the pretty widow had occasion to glance -repeatedly at her parlor clock with ever increasing annoyance before -she heard the butler ushering some one upstairs. She masked her -displeasure under a smiling face. - -"Ah, Charles, what has detained you?" she asked, as he bent low over -her hand and kissed it. - -"Pressing business," he answered. "I am deeply sorry to be late, -Cecelia. Judge McMasters simply would not hurry. Has Ben Potter been -here?" - -"Not to-day." Mrs. Parsons' surprise at the question was manifest. -"You know he is not one of my favorites. He bored me to death in San -Francisco; he is so intense--" she shrugged her shoulders. "I saw his -wife this morning." - -"Indeed?" Craige selected a cigarette from the box on the table and -accepted a lighted match. - -"Silly sentimental little fool," commented Mrs. Parsons. "Just the kind -of wife Ben could have been counted on to pick out." - -"Men usually marry to please themselves." Craige laughed. "Ben -telephoned me an hour ago and said that he was coming around to see -you--" - -"What about?" - -"He did not state." Craige looked at her in surprise, abruptness was -not usual with her. "He may come at any moment--" glancing at his -watch. It lacked five minutes of the hour. "I stopped at the bank this -morning and President Walsh said he would accept your note for two -thousand dollars provided you have collateral--" - -"Certainly." Mrs. Parsons colored deeply. "In fact, I am not sure that -I shall need the loan from the bank. I was only temporarily embarrassed -until my property in San Francisco is sold. To-day," she paused, -"I have arranged another matter satisfactorily. It is kind of you, -Charles, very kind, to handle my business for me." - -"My dearest Cecelia--" Craige laid his hand on hers. "I am happiest -when I serve you." - -Her eyes sparkled with a hint of tears. "I am grateful," she murmured. -"You have been so good, so very good since I came to Washington." - -"Cecelia!" Craige bent forward impulsively, but she drew away from his -embrace. - -"Not now, dear," she protested. "You know you promised--" - -Craige's handsome face, alight with eagerness, altered. "I will keep my -word--" he said. "One month, Cecelia, and then the whole world is to -know of my happiness--" - -"Our happiness--" she corrected softly. Craige caught her hands and -pressed the palms against his face before kissing them with lingering -tenderness. - -"_A la bonne heure!_" he exclaimed, and his voice betrayed his -happiness. "Cecelia, you grow prettier every day." - -"My mirror is not so kind as you, Charles!" A sigh accompanied the -words, and she swiftly changed the subject. "Have you seen Kitty Baird -to-day?" - -"I am on my way there now." A worried look crossed his face. "That poor -girl seems fated for tragedy. You heard of the attempt to kill Ted -Rodgers last night in the Park, did you not?" - -"I understood that it was an accident." Horror crept into Mrs. Parsons' -eyes. "How dreadful!" - -"Kitty declares that the headlights of the car blinded her, and that -she has no idea of the identity of the person who did the shooting. She -says that she could not even tell whether it was a man or a woman." - -Craige, sitting facing the light from the western window, failed to -detect the faint alteration in Mrs. Parsons' expression. - -"How is Ted Rodgers?" she asked. "Out of danger?" - -"I haven't heard; which reminds me that I am to meet Dr. McLean at -'Rose Hill' at three o'clock." Craige rose. "I sincerely hope that Ted -recovers--it will kill Kitty if anything happens to him." - -Mrs. Parsons held out her hands and Craige helped her slowly to her -feet. "So Ted really has cut out Leigh Wallace in Kitty's affections," -she remarked. - -Craige frowned. "It was nothing more than a flirtation between Kitty -and Wallace," he declared. "Her whole heart is centered on Ted." - -"You speak with positiveness--" Mrs. Parsons' laugh held a touch of -malice. "Remember, women are fickle--and Leigh very attractive." - -"I fail to understand the fascination he apparently has for women." -Craige's tone was stiff. A mischievous smile touched Mrs. Parsons' lips -and her eyes danced. - -"Leigh was very, very smitten with Kitty," she asserted, as she paused -before the long gilt mirror and adjusted her lorgnette chain. "Do you -suppose it could have been Leigh who tried to kill Ted last night?" - -Craige stood just behind her and looking in the mirror she saw his face -reflected over her shoulder. His expression of surprise gave place to -doubt--to wonder-- - -"By Jove!" he exclaimed. "No, it can't be, Cecelia. Leigh, whatever his -faults, is the type of man who fights in the open." - -"Jealousy changes a man's nature sometimes," she murmured. "Leigh has -not been himself since his return from France." - -"You knew him before, then?" - -Mrs. Parsons nodded. "Very slightly. It was Nina Potter who commented -upon the change in him; he was an old sweetheart of hers." - -Craige paused. "Upon my word, Cecelia," he ejaculated. "How do you -learn so much about people?" - -She laughed aloud in her amusement. "I am observant. I find--" and the -lines about her mouth hardened--"it pays to be. Will you dine with me -to-morrow night, Charles?" - -"Surely," with eager haste. "And will you go to the theater afterward?" - -"Perhaps." She laid her hand for the fraction of a second against his -cheek with a caressing motion. "Careful, dear, James is waiting to -open the door for you--" and Craige perforce contented himself with a -formal handshake as the servant came forward to the foot of the short -flight of steps with his overcoat and hat. - -Craige was about to step into his motor when he became aware that the -butler was at his elbow. - -"Can I have a word with you, sir?" he asked, and a jerk of his thumb -indicated Craige's chauffeur. "In private, sir." - -"Certainly, James." Mystified by the butler's air of secretiveness -Craige followed him a few steps down the street. When convinced that -the chauffeur could not overhear them, James halted. But they were -not destined to have their interview in private, for as Craige stood -waiting for James to explain what he wished Inspector Mitchell stopped -beside them. - -"Good afternoon, Mr. Craige," he said, as he nodded a greeting to the -butler. "Glad to see you, sir. Now, James, why did you send for me?" - -James rubbed his hands together and cast an appealing look at Craige. -"I had to," he began, addressing his remarks to him rather than to -Mitchell. "My conscience couldn't rest easy, sir, after I read the -newspapers about the inquest." - -"The inquest?" Mitchell's eyes snapped with excitement. "Go on, -man--you mean the Baird inquest?" - -"Yes. Mr. Craige, sir, the newspapers said that Miss Baird was killed -by poison put on a peach," he spoke in nervous haste and Craige had -some difficulty in catching what he said. "Nobody seemed to know where -the peaches came from 'cording to the papers." - -"No more we did," prompted Mitchell. "Well, what then?" - -James licked his lips with the tip of his tongue. "Miss Kitty Baird -goes to the market sometimes for Mrs. Parsons, sir. On Saturday she -brought back some California peaches," his voice sank even lower. "She -called here Sunday morning, and when she left, the peaches wasn't on -the dining room table." - -Craige stared the butler out of countenance. "Preposterous!" he -exclaimed, turning red with indignation. "What are you suggesting, -James?" - -"Nothing, sir, Mr. Craige. I'm just telling you about the peaches." - -Craige's face was a study of wrath and bewilderment; the former -predominating. With an effort, he checked an oath and instead drew out -some loose silver. - -"I am glad you spoke only to us, James," he said. "Come with me, -Mitchell," and paying no attention to the inspector's protests that he -wished further word with the butler, he hurried him toward his car. - -So occupied were both men that neither caught James' furtive glance at -the parlor window as he turned to re�nter Mrs. Parsons' house. - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -THE FEET OF THE FURTIVE - - -Mandy was not happy in her mind. No matter how tempting the dishes she -cooked, her beloved "Miss Kitty" failed to eat more than "jes' scraps," -as Mandy expressed it in her disgust. But Kitty's heart as well as -her thoughts were centered in the sickroom and she did not linger -elsewhere. Weakened through loss of blood and shock, Ted Rodgers had -lain partly conscious all through the morning, taking no interest in -his surroundings and only rousing when Kitty spoke to him. But even to -her he addressed no conversation, being content to hold her hand and -gaze at her with his heart in his eyes. - -"Do go and lie down, Miss Baird." Miss Grey, the trained nurse, laid -a sympathetic hand on Kitty's shoulder. "I assure you Mr. Rodgers is -better, and I promise to call you the moment Dr. McLean gets here." - -Kitty stretched her cramped muscles and looked at Ted. Even to her -inexperienced eyes, he appeared to be resting more comfortably and his -cheeks were a healthier color. She felt inexplicably weary; her eyelids -were heavy from lack of sleep and her head ached unmercifully. Taking -care not to arouse Rodgers, Kitty moved away from the bedside. - -"I'll be in the room," she told Miss Gray, lowering her voice, "just -across the hall, and I will leave my door open. If you want the -slightest thing just call me, and I will come at once." - -Kitty's desire for "forty winks," as her aunt had always termed her -afternoon nap, was not to be gratified immediately, for as she stepped -into the hall, Mandy came toiling up the stairs. - -"Law, ma'am, Miss Kitty!" she ejaculated. "Dis hyar day am gwine to -be de ruination of me. I wish that no-count nigger, Oscar, was hyar -attendin' to his work." - -"I wish so, too!" echoed Kitty fervently. "Have you had word from -Oscar?" - -"No, m'm." Mandy had a habit of mumbling her words. "Whar's Mrs. -Potter?" - -"I'm sure I don't know." Kitty yawned. "In the library, probably." - -"No she ain't, neither!" Mandy's exasperation was gaining the upper -hand. "Thar's been two telephone calls fo' her, an' I 'spects Mister -Ben'll jump clear through his skin if she don't come an' talk to him." - -"Is Mr. Ben on the 'phone now?" - -"Yessim." - -"I'll talk to him on the branch 'phone." Kitty crossed the hall. "You -might see if Mrs. Potter is lying down in the boudoir." - -The telephone instrument was close by the door and Kitty, who had -earlier in the day deadened the sound of the bell by stuffing cotton -about it, so that its ring might not disturb Rodgers, took off the -receiver. No masculine voice answered her low hail, and finally, -convinced that her cousin must have grown tired and rung off, she hung -up the receiver. Going over to her bed she threw herself fully dressed -upon it, and in a few minutes her even breathing showed that she had -fallen into the heavy slumber of utter exhaustion. - -Mandy, left to her own devices, wandered down the hall to the boudoir. -It was located next to the bedroom which had belonged to Miss Susan -Baird. The old colored woman cautiously poked her head inside the door -sufficiently for to convince herself that the boudoir was empty, then -withdrew. She stood for some seconds before the closed door leading -into "Miss Susan's" bedroom, but her superstitious dread kept her from -entering it. Had she done so she would have found the object of her -search. - -Nina Potter, her ear close to the key-hole of the door, heard Mandy -stump heavily away and drew a long, long breath of relief. Getting up -from her knees, she looked about the room. It had been left untouched -since the funeral, Mandy not having found courage either to dust or -sweep, or, for the matter of that, to enter it upon any occasion -whatever, in spite of Kitty's directions to put the bedroom in order. - -It was a large room with high ceilings and diamond-paned windows. The -shades were raised and the afternoon sunshine fell full upon the carved -four-post bedstead with its time-worn canopy and broad valance. Going -over to the bureau, Nina tried the different drawers; they were all -unlocked. Turning once again to convince herself that she really was -alone in the room, she waited a second and then went through the bureau -with neatness and dispatch. Her search was unproductive of result. -Nothing daunted, she examined the old desk with equal thoroughness, and -then turned her attention to the mahogany wardrobe which occupied one -corner of the room. She found that it contained nothing but clothes -which a generation before had been fashionable. They hung on the wooden -pegs, rainbow hued, beribboned, and musty. Nina hastily closed the -doors and turned her back on the wardrobe. - -The action brought her face to face with the bedstead. It was the only -piece of furniture in the room which she had not examined. With some -hesitancy she walked over to it. The sheets had been spread neatly over -the mattress, but the bolster and pillows had evidently been tossed -in place, for they had assumed grotesque shapes and to her excited -imagination it seemed as if some human form lay sprawled across the bed. - -Raising the sheets, she ran her hands back and forth over the mattress -as far as she could reach. No rustle of papers, such as she had hoped -to hear, resulted. Looking about, she spied the short wooden steps -which Miss Susan Baird had used to mount into bed every night, and -dragged them into place. Standing on the top step and resting her -weight partly on the bed, Nina managed to feel the whole surface of the -mattress. - -Finally, she straightened her aching figure and stood upright. She was -conscious of a slight feeling of giddiness; the next instant she had -lost her balance and rolled to the floor. As she descended she threw -out her hand and instinctively clutched the valance. It ripped away -with a tearing sound, and when she sat up, bewildered, her eyes were -on a level with the wooden springs of the bed. Between them and the -mattress rested an oblong box. It was painted the color of mahogany and -fitted snugly into its cleverly contrived hiding place. - -Nina's fingers trembled as she lifted out the box and tried to raise -the cover. It was locked. Scrambling to her feet, she hurried to the -bureau and selected a steel shoe horn. Slipping it under the box-lid -she exerted all her strength. The lock resisted her efforts at first, -then the rotten wood gave with a slight splintering sound. - -In panting haste she threw back the lid. The box appeared to be -filled with papers of all sizes, but Nina lost no time in examining -them. On top lay a package of letters bearing her name in a familiar -handwriting. Snatching them up, Nina replaced the box. With the aid -of pins she tacked the valance back in place as best she could, -straightened the bedclothes, and then stole from the room, her precious -package clasped tightly in her hand. As she passed down the staircase, -she was totally unaware that she was watched, nor did she catch the -faint sound made by the opening and closing of "Miss Susan's" bedroom -door. - -The fire in the library had been replenished a short time before by -Mandy and it blazed with unaccustomed brilliancy, and Nina in the -overheated atmosphere felt a return of the giddiness which had upset -her upstairs. Crossing the library, she threw open the upper half -of the Dutch door. The cool air refreshed her and she stood enjoying -it while her gaze roved over the garden and its box hedges along the -walks. The flower beds in their winter dress presented a dreary aspect. -But Nina's attention did not linger upon them; instead it centered upon -a man sitting on one of the stone benches near the sun-dial. His air of -dejection was marked. He turned ever so slightly and in spite of the -soft hat pulled far down on his forehead and his hunched shoulders, -Nina recognized Leigh Wallace. On impulse she turned the key in the -lower half of the door and opening it, walked down the path. Her -footfall was noiseless and it was not until she stopped directly in -front of him that Wallace became aware of her approach. - -"Nina!" The low cry escaped him involuntarily. - -"Don't!" Her tone stung him like a lash. "I prefer to be addressed as -Mrs. Potter." - -"Certainly." Wallace grew white to the lips. "I shall respect your -wishes. Had I known that you were here, I would not have come." - -"It is perhaps as well that you are here," Nina took a step forward. -"It gives me an opportunity to return these letters." - -Wallace looked at the package she held toward him and then at her. - -"You kept them!" he gasped. "You had the nerve--" - -Her scornful expression checked him. "Comment is unnecessary," she -said. "Take the letters and destroy them." - -Wallace's uncomprehending stare frightened her. Was his old failing -upon him--had he been drinking? For a long minute they regarded each -other. Slowly he put out his hand, took the package, and without a -glance at them or at her turned and walked away. - - * * * * * - -Inspector Mitchell left Charles Craige to enter "Rose Hill" alone. - -"I'll be in shortly," he exclaimed. "Wait until I get there." And, not -waiting to hear even if Craige made an answer, the Inspector headed -for the house adjoining the Baird mansion on the east. Craige paused a -second to give an order to his chauffeur, then mounted the long steps -to the vestibule where Mandy stood awaiting his arrival. - -"I done see'd yo' comin'," she remarked, closing the door with a bang. -"Go right in de lib'ry, Mister Charles. I'll tell Miss Kitty yo' am -hyar jes' as soon as my gran'son gets back from the sto'." And Mandy -resumed her place in the parlor window from whence she could obtain an -unobstructed view up and down Q Street. - -Craige's heavy footsteps did not cause a man, standing in front of -the open Dutch door in the library, to turn around, so fixed was his -attention on the view into the garden. Craige paused just over the -threshold of the library door. - -"Why, hello, Ben!" he exclaimed. "I didn't know you were here." - -With a convulsive start, Ben Potter swung around and Craige recoiled a -step or two. The rage stamped on Potter's countenance had distorted it -almost beyond recognition. - -"God bless my soul!" Craige ejaculated. "Ben, what is it?" - -Potter passed a hand across his face and with an effort regained some -semblance of self-control. - -"Nothing, nothing," he stammered. "Where's Kitty?" - -"I am sure I don't know." Craige's astonishment increased. "Probably -upstairs." - -Potter brushed past him without a word and disappeared into the hall. -Craige advanced farther into the library and paused in indecision. From -where he stood he faced the Dutch door, the upper half of which stood -open, and thus had an uninterrupted view of the garden. - -It did not need remarkably keen eyesight to recognize the man and woman -standing near the sun-dial. Craige stared at the tableau for fully a -minute, then turned thoughtfully away just as Leigh Wallace took the -package from Nina Potter. - -Kitty, awakened from her sleep by Ben Potter's unceremonious entrance -into her bedroom, was gazing at her cousin in utter bewilderment. - -"What are you saying?" she demanded for the second time. - -"That your revolver was found by Inspector Mitchell on the floor of Ted -Rodgers' car," repeated Potter. He made no attempt to modify his angry -tones and his voice carried through the open door and across the hall -into Ted Rodgers' bedroom. - -"You are mad!" exclaimed Kitty. "My revolver is here in my desk." -Springing up she hastened to her antique secretary and pulled open one -of the drawers. It was empty. - -"The revolver was here yesterday," she cried. - -"And last night in Ted's car," reiterated Potter, with stubborn temper. -"Your revolver--and one chamber had been recently discharged and Ted -Rodgers nearly killed." - -As his words echoed across the hall Miss Gray, the trained nurse, -closed the bedroom door and turned to look at her patient. With feeble -strength he struggled upright. - -"Bring me my clothes," Ted Rodgers gasped, as she hurried to his side. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -MOUCHETTE, THE SEVEN-TOED - - -When Nina Potter re�ntered the library a few minutes later she found -Charles Craige playing with the Angora cat, Mouchette. With a word of -greeting she moved over to the fire and held out her hands before the -blaze. Craige, who had risen at sight of her, observed her effort to -avoid his gaze. - -"I feel chilled," she confessed, and a shiver shook her from head to -foot. - -"You have a bad cold," Craige remarked. "Was it wise to linger in the -garden--?" - -Nina, intent on her own thoughts, never noticed the gravity of his -manner. - -"Perhaps not," she admitted absently. "I should have remembered my -coat. Where is Kitty?" - -"Upstairs, I imagine. Your husband went to find her." - -"Ben!" Nina whirled around. "Ben--here?" - -"Look out, you will scorch yourself," Craige stepped hastily toward -her. "Don't stand so near the fire." - -"I am in no danger--" but Nina drew away from the fireplace with a -paler face. "How long have you been in the library, Mr. Craige?" - -"About ten minutes." - -"Was Ben here with you?" - -"I found him here when I arrived. Do sit down, Mrs. Potter, you look -utterly fagged," and Craige wheeled forward a chair. As she still -remained standing he started to remonstrate, but the words died on his -lips as Kitty came into the room, followed by Ben Potter. - -"Thank heaven you are here," she cried, running to her godfather's -side. "You will bring Ben to his senses." - -Potter walked up to them, his eyes ablaze with anger. "I've told her a -few plain truths," he stated. His truculent manner made anything but an -agreeable impression on Craige, who viewed him with contempt. He had no -use for bullies. - -"Stop shouting, Ben," he remarked cuttingly. "You forget you are -addressing your cousin and your wife." - -Nina moved slightly to one side and looked at her husband. Upon -his entrance she had shrunk behind Craige. The movement had been -instinctive. - -"Why are you so excited, dear?" she asked, timidly. - -Potter avoided her gaze and addressed Craige. "I'm tired of -mysteries," he declared. "First, Cousin Susan is murdered, brutally -murdered, poor old lady; then my friend, Ted Rodgers, is shot while -driving in his own car with Kitty--and Kitty's revolver, with one -chamber discharged, is found in the car. Damn it!" His teeth clenched -together. "It's time the police took action." - -"We will, never worry--" Inspector Mitchell, who had been an interested -spectator of the scene from the doorway, stepped inside the library, -his face set and stern. "Allow me to conduct this investigation in my -own way, Mr. Potter. Stand aside, sir." He turned to address some one -in the hall. "Welsh, go tell Major Wallace that he will find Miss Baird -here and not in the parlor." - -"Wallace!" Potter faced about. "Is he still hanging around here? Why -don't you throw him out?" - -"Major Wallace has a perfect right to come here if he wishes to." Kitty -spoke with warmth. "How dare you, Ben, dictate who shall call here and -who shall not? This is my house." - -"Is it?" Potter had lashed himself into a fury--a fury apparently -intensified by the arrival of Leigh Wallace, for he turned and shook -his fist at the young officer. "As your nearest of kin, Kitty, I -insist that your aunt's wishes be carried out and that you shall not -receive Wallace again. She knew what character of man he is--and that -knowledge was the cause of her death." - -Craige stepped forward. "Are you aware of what you are saying, Ben?" he -asked. "That you virtually accuse Major Wallace of killing Miss Susan -Baird?" - -"Sure." Potter laughed recklessly. "Miss Baird had proof of his -treachery--" - -"Treachery? To whom?" Craige's hand on Kitty's shoulder warned her to -be silent as he shot his questions at the distraught naturalist. - -"To Kitty--playing fast and loose with her affections, and holding -clandestine meetings with--" Potter licked his dry mouth, while his -eyes, inflamed with hate, rested on Wallace's white face, "with my -wife." - -"You lie!" The denial rang out clearly. Only Inspector Mitchell's -powerful arm prevented Wallace from springing on Potter. "You d--mn -scoundrel, to blacken your wife's name." - -"Stop! Stop!" Nina Potter wrung her hands. "You are both mad!" - -"This scene has gone far enough!" Craige spoke with authority. His -calmness brought some comfort to Kitty--they were not all losing their -heads! "Quiet, Potter. Now, Mitchell, what have you to say?" - -Inspector Mitchell surveyed the small circle with critical eyes. He -noted Nina Potter, standing white-faced and terror-stricken, her gaze -riveted on her infuriated husband. Kitty, bewilderment struggling with -dawning horror as she stared at her cousin and his young wife and then -at Wallace, had sunk down on the nearest chair. Wallace, his eyes -downcast, stood swaying on his feet. Mitchell glanced at Craige and -pointed slightly to Wallace. It was plain to both men that the young -officer had been drinking. - -"Suppose we sit down," Mitchell indicated the chairs about the tea -table, and taking their consent for granted, deliberately seated -himself. With some hesitancy, Potter followed his example and Wallace -did so mechanically. Nina Potter, her feet dragging as she stumbled -nearer, half fell into an armchair and Craige took the vacant one by -Kitty's side. - -"Draw up," Mitchell directed. "I will lay my cards on the table--and -then, Mr. Potter," as the naturalist started to speak, "we'll hear what -you have to say. Until then, keep quiet." - -Mitchell spoke in a tone which commanded respect and Potter sullenly -obeyed him. The silence remained unbroken for a tense moment, then the -porti�res were drawn aside and Welsh, the plain clothes detective, -stuck his head inside the library. - -"Mrs. Parsons," he announced, and drew back to let her enter. - -Half way across the library the pretty widow paused and inspected the -company assembled around the tea table in astonishment. - -"My dear Kitty," she said, dropping her lorgnette. "I stopped only for -a minute," she hesitated. "I fear I am _de trop_," and she turned to -leave. - -"Not a bit of it." Mitchell spoke so quickly that Kitty, who had risen, -had no opportunity to answer Mrs. Parsons. The instinct of courtesy -gained ascendancy over her perturbed spirit, and she offered her chair -to the pretty widow. "Join us here, Mrs. Parsons," added Mitchell. "We -want your advice." - -Mrs. Parsons' smile was charming, but her eyes were keenly alert as -she moved forward, searching each face for a clue to the scene which -she felt she had interrupted. Not observing where she was going, she -stepped on something soft. A loud wail from Mouchette caused her to -start convulsively, and the Angora cat, switching her injured tail, -back and forth, sprang on Kitty's vacant chair and from there to the -tea table. - -"That cat is always under my feet, horrid beast!" Mrs. Parsons, -conscious of appearing ridiculous, for Wallace had not restrained a -chuckle, spoke with irritation. - -"Let me help you," and Craige, who with the other men had risen on the -widow's entrance, assisted her in removing her wrap. - -Mrs. Parsons presented an alluring picture in her chic cr�pe de -Chine calling costume, its soft folds showing her graceful figure to -advantage. Mrs. Parsons, with reason, was vain of her neck and arms -and generally wore elbow sleeves and square cut neck. She was making a -round of visits, and as she removed her long white gloves, she laid her -gold card case and mesh bag before her on the tea table. - -Mouchette eyed them for a second and then put out an inquisitive paw. -Mrs. Parsons promptly drew both bag and card case out of the cat's -reach. Craige, who missed nothing the widow either said or did, lifted -Mouchette off the table and held her on his knee. He was aware of Mrs. -Parsons' fear of cats. Mouchette submitted to his petting with good -grace and much purring, and finally curled up in his lap, but her -yellow eyes never ceased watching Mrs. Parsons. - -"Is this a s�ance?" asked Mrs. Parsons as the silence continued. "If -not," her eyebrows lifted, "why are we sitting around this table?" - -"We are waiting for Inspector Mitchell to, as he expressed it, 'lay -his cards on the table,'" Potter spoke with a sneer. "In other words, -Cecelia, you are in at the death." - -Mrs. Parsons' slight start was lost on all but Craige. - -"Drop the melodrama, Ben," he said. "We prefer to listen to Inspector -Mitchell and not to you. Go on, Inspector." - -But the Inspector was doomed to another interruption, for as he hitched -his chair closer to Nina Potter, the sound of footsteps in the gallery -circling the library drew all eyes upward. With the aid of his nurse, -Ted Rodgers was making his way down the gallery steps with faltering -speed. - -"Don't any one rise," he begged, as they started to their feet. Kitty -was the first to reach his side. - -"Ted, is this wise, dear?" she asked, making no attempt to conceal her -anxiety. "How could you let him get up, Miss Gray?" - -"She couldn't help herself." Rodgers gently but firmly disengaged his -hand from Kitty's tender clasp. "Go and sit down, dear; I'll take this -chair." - -Miss Gray aided him in pulling out the throne-shaped chair. By tacit -consent the others had avoided sitting in it. As Rodgers sank back, -the bandage on his head showed up plainly. Leigh Wallace transferred -his gaze elsewhere. Vividly before him had loomed the memory of Miss -Susan lying dead in her throne-shaped chair on Monday morning. Rodgers' -complexion matched the dead woman's in pallor. His exertions had made -him deadly faint and it was some seconds before he could gather his -strength to speak with clearness. - -"Don't wait, Miss Gray," he said courteously. "They will call you if -I need your aid. Thank you." Then as the nurse withdrew, he turned to -Inspector Mitchell. "Well, what news?" - -"Miss Baird," Mitchell cleared his throat and pointed to a typewritten -manuscript which he had lain before him on the table just as Rodgers -joined them. "You quarreled with your aunt on Sunday--" - -"We had an argument, I admit--" Kitty rubbed one nervous hand over the -other--they were both cold. - -"It was more than an argument--it was a quarrel, and about Major Leigh -Wallace," Mitchell's manner was dictatorial. "Don't contradict me, -madam, I know." - -"Well, what else do you know?" demanded Craige, losing patience. -"What's that document you have there, Mitchell?" - -"All in good time, sir." Mitchell's smile was tantalizing. "You went -out of here, Miss Baird, in a rage, because your aunt had ordered you -not to return. Can you deny it?" - -"N--no." - -"Stop a moment," Craige held up his hand. "You are not obliged to -answer these questions, Kitty, except in a law court. Don't overstep -your authority, Mitchell." - -Mitchell's only answer was to shrug his heavy shoulders, and look -across the table at Kitty. "Miss Baird," he began. "You purchased some -peaches for Mrs. Parsons on Saturday--" - -She looked at him dumbly. Then at Mrs. Parsons, who gazed back at her -in silent astonishment. "I bought some fruit for her on Saturday," she -admitted. "But if there were any peaches in the basket, they were there -unknown to me." - -Mitchell smiled significantly. "Pretty thin," he commented, and glanced -over at Craige, before again addressing her. "You stopped to see Mrs. -Parsons on Sunday morning, Miss Baird--and you brought those peaches -home to your aunt." - -"I did not!" Kitty's voice rang out clearly. "I was at Mrs. Parsons' -for a few minutes on Sunday on my way from church--" - -"With Major Wallace?" - -Kitty changed color. "Yes." - -"And Major Wallace went into the house with you?" - -Kitty paused in uncertainty and her eyes sought Wallace. He sat lolling -back in his chair, his air of indifference plainly assumed as his -restless fingers played with the catch of Mrs. Parsons' gold mesh bag. - -"I went upstairs to see Mrs. Parsons," she explained. "I left Major -Wallace standing in the vestibule--" - -"And the front door open--" Mitchell broke in rudely. He turned to Mrs. -Parsons. "Your house is an English basement, with the drawing room on -the second floor. Where is your dining room?" - -"On the first floor." Mrs. Parsons had been following the dialogue with -unwavering attention. At her answer Mitchell nodded his head with an -air of triumph. - -"I'll amend my statement, Miss Baird," he said. "You did not carry -those peaches home to your aunt, but Major Wallace did--when he called -here to see her alone on Sunday afternoon." - -Wallace's air of indifference dropped from him and he swung to his -feet, his hands clenched. "You're a damned liar!" he shouted. - -"Shouting won't help matters," Mitchell remarked. "For I have the -goods on you." He tapped the papers in front of him. "Here is the -sworn testimony of Mrs. Murray, who saw you enter this house on Sunday -afternoon with a paper package under your arm, and when you left you -carried no package and were so agitated that you weren't even conscious -of bumping into Mrs. Murray as you hurried down the street toward -Washington." - -Wallace stared at the Inspector and then at the others, but always his -eyes passed over Nina Potter, sitting huddled in her chair, her eyes -upraised in mute pleading. - -"Well," his voice was hoarse--discordant. "What if I did bring some -peaches to Miss Susan as a 'peace offering?'" His lips twitched into a -ghastly smile. "It doesn't follow that I murdered her." - -"No--?" Mitchell's tone expressed incredulity. "That's for the jury -to decide." He looked across at Kitty. "You I charge with being an -accessory to the crime." - -Charles Craige was the first to speak. "You bring a serious charge -against my godchild," he said sternly. "I demand your proof." - -Mitchell turned slightly to address the man on his left. "How about it, -Mr. Potter?" he asked. - -Potter seemed to have some difficulty in speaking, for a moment elapsed -before he answered. - -"Kitty spent Sunday night with us," he began. "I came home late, having -been detained at my club, and was surprised to see Kitty walk out of my -apartment house and jump into Major Wallace's car--" - -He got no further. Kitty was on her feet, her face scarlet. - -"You saw me?" she cried. "Me!" - -"Yes," meeting her gaze unwaveringly. "I recognized your red coat." He -paused, then added slowly, "I followed you to Georgetown and saw you -enter this house--" - -Kitty dropped back in her chair as if shot. Her eyes wandered from -Nina Potter, sitting with head averted, to Wallace, who stared straight -in front of him, and then to Ted Rodgers, who sat with closed eyes, his -head resting against the high back of the throne-shaped chair. No one -broke the tense silence and after a brief pause Mitchell spoke. - -"You got your aunt's fortune, Miss Baird--and then you got cold feet--" -he paused dramatically. "There was one man who suspected you, and so -you tried to do away with him. I found your revolver, with one chamber -discharged in the bottom of Mr. Rodgers' car--" - -"So I have heard," Kitty's fighting spirit was coming to her aid. It -had conquered her feeling of deadly faintness, and she faced them, -white-lipped but with blazing eyes. "And who was with you, Inspector, -when you made that discovery?" - -"My chauffeur and Mr. Potter." - -"Is that so?" Kitty's smile was peculiar as she glanced at her cousin. -"Has it occurred to you that it may be manufactured evidence?" - -Mitchell looked at her in astonishment. "Are you accusing your cousin -of lying?" - -"He is accusing me of a far more despicable crime," she retorted. "Of -wilfully aiding in the murder of my aunt, of trying to kill the man -whom, last night, I promised to marry--" she faced them proudly, her -heart beating with suffocating rapidity. Why, why had not Ted Rodgers -spoken in her defense? "Mr. Rodgers," she went on, after an almost -imperceptible pause, "was shot by a person riding in a car which passed -us when we were driving in Rock Creek Park last night. When I left -this house with Mr. Rodgers, my revolver was upstairs in the drawer -of my desk--" Again she paused, finding speech difficult--her throat -felt parched and dry. "Upon my return I found not only you waiting for -me, Inspector Mitchell, but Mr. Potter. My cousin knew where I kept -my revolver; it was no secret. He could easily have slipped upstairs -during the confusion of getting Mr. Rodgers to bed and sending for a -nurse and doctor, secured my revolver and, unknown to you, dropped it -in Mr. Rodgers' car--for the purpose of incriminating me." - -"And Mr. Potter's object in doing that?" questioned Mitchell, as she -came to a breathless pause. - -"Ask him--" and Kitty pointed to her cousin, who had half risen, then -dropped back in his chair. Mitchell stared at them both for a second, -then faced the throne-shaped chair. - -"Can you tell us who shot you, Mr. Rodgers?" he - -Rodgers opened his eyes and faced their concentrated attention. - -"Miss Baird," he commenced, and Kitty almost cried out at the formality -of his address, "has told you how the revolver might have been -'planted' in my car to incriminate her. To be exact it was thrown into -the car by the person who shot me, and with it a handkerchief." He -fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a piece of linen, bloodstained and -torn. "You bound my head, did you not, before you started to drive me -home?" turning to Kitty. - -"Yes." - -"My nurse--" Rodgers was speaking more clearly, "showed me the -handkerchiefs which Dr. McLean had removed to put on a proper bandage," -touching his head. "Look at that handkerchief, Mitchell--and tell us -what you see." - -Mitchell spread out the costly linen so that all could view it. - -"A woman's handkerchief," he remarked. "There's an initial in the -corner--the letter--" holding it closer--"the letter 'P.'" In the -utter stillness that followed he laid down the handkerchief. "'P,'" he -repeated musingly--"Potter." - -A cry escaped Nina Potter and she shrank back in her chair, her face -buried in her hands, shaking from head to foot. "Not that," she gasped. -"Not that!" - -Ted Rodgers bent forward. "'P' stands as well for 'Parsons,'" he -commented, and got no further. - -"Yo'se done said it!" gasped a voice behind them, and Oscar, -perspiration trickling down his black face, came forward, his arm -tightly clutched by Welsh, the plain clothes' detective. "Dar's de -woman who done up ole Miss," shaking his fist in Mrs. Parsons' face. "I -see'd her acreepin' away from here on Monday mawnin,' an'--" - -"You--you--Oscar!" Mrs. Parsons' voice rose and cracked. Again she -tried to speak in her natural tones--"Oscar!" - -Kitty cried out--a chord of memory had been touched-- - -"It was you I heard trying to bribe Oscar!" she exclaimed. "You!" - -Mrs. Parsons turned with livid face to Charles Craige. - -"Charles--they--she--stop her!" She reeled backward and Craige, -awakening from his stupor, flung Mouchette toward Kitty and reached -forward to catch Mrs. Parsons as she swayed dangerously near the edge -of her chair. - -The Angora cat, roused suddenly from her sleep, missed Kitty by the -fraction of an inch and alighted in Mrs. Parsons' lap. As the terrified -woman attempted to throw her down, the cat sank her claws into her bare -arm, tearing the delicate flesh with gash after gash. - -The men sprang to Mrs. Parsons' aid, but too late. Her screams gave -place to a gurgling cry and she sank back a dead weight. Mitchell, -kneeling by her side, stared at her convulsed features in horror as -his hand went to her wrist. - -"By God! She's dead!" he gasped in awe. His glance traveled downward. -"Look--look at the cat!" His shaking finger pointed to where Mouchette -sat licking first one paw and then the other. A streak of blood was -flowing from where she had gashed herself in her fury. Suddenly they -saw the cat stiffen, throw back her head convulsively, roll over and -lie still. - -A clicking sound caused Inspector Mitchell to whirl around in time to -see a pair of handcuffs dangling from Charles Craige's wrists. - -"What--what?" he gasped. - -"Charles Craige--murderer of Miss Susan Baird," explained Rodgers. -"Don't move," and a revolver rested dangerously near Craige's heart. -"Open your hand." The command was accompanied by a threatening movement -of the revolver. - -Slowly, very slowly Craige did as he was told. A small rubber bulb -syringe dropped to the floor. - -"Don't touch it," Rodgers cried sharply, as Mitchell bent down. "It is -filled with the poison which Craige sprayed on the cat's paw--and thus -killed Cecelia Parsons, his fianc�e." - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -GREED - - -Charles Craige sat staring into vacancy, while beads of perspiration -trickled down his ghastly face. Several drops slipped into his eyes and -half blinded him. Raising his hands he brushed them away. The action -brought the handcuffs encircling his wrists into view. He regarded -them apathetically, then his uncomprehending gaze traveled over the -horror-stricken men and women grouped about his chair. It was not until -he saw Kitty Baird that the situation dawned upon him. Before the -others suspected his intention, he sprang at her, his manacled hands -upraised to strike. The blow was turned aside by Inspector Mitchell, -who darted to Kitty's assistance. - -"Hold him down in that chair, Welsh," he directed as the detective came -to his aid. Rodgers, whose false strength had departed, dropped into -the nearest chair, the revolver hanging useless in his grasp. His shot, -as Craige sprang forward, had gone wild. Kitty was by his side in an -instant. - -"I'm all right," he panted, as she bent over him. "Don't worry, my -darling. Now, Craige, what have you to say?" - -"Say?" Craige was winded from his exertions and spoke with difficulty. -"Why should I say anything?" - -"Because the game's up," Mitchell stated, and stepped aside so that -Craige had a clear view of Cecelia Parsons. "Why did you kill that -woman?" - -"I did not mean to kill Cecelia," Craige shouted. "God knows I did -not." His bloodshot eyes again sought Kitty. "I threw the cat at you. -Cecelia called to me to stop you--" - -"Ah, so Mrs. Parsons aided you in your murder of Miss Susan Baird," -broke in Mitchell. - -"She did not." Craige, his tongue unloosened, spoke in desperate -haste, his words tripping over one another. It seemed almost as if he -gained courage from the sound of his own voice. "Miss Susan Baird was -warned--but she would not listen to me." - -"Why did you kill my aunt?" demanded Kitty, indignation for the moment -mastering her horror. "She was always kind to you. She trusted you." - -"Trust? It was greed which prompted her friendship." Craige laughed -harshly, jeeringly. "It was by my aid that she made her fortune. Do you -know what she was--your aristocratic aunt--a money-lender!" - -Kitty stared at him--appalled. "It can't be," she cried, and turned -appealingly to Ted Rodgers. "Make him tell the truth." - -"I am speaking the truth," Craige retorted. "Many's the person I've -brought over here when you, Kitty, were not around, and your aunt has -admitted us at that side door. She charged high rates of interest, but -no one gave her away. She was square with them." - -"Were you square with her?" asked Rodgers quietly, and a dull red -suffused Craige's white face. - -"When I had to borrow, she treated me like the others," he answered. -"The fact that I helped her amass a fortune cut no ice. I got deeper -and deeper in debt, and then--" his voice changed. "I had to have -money, so I told her I wanted to marry you." - -Kitty retreated, aghast. "Marry me? _You!_" - -"Yes," coolly. "I am only fifty-four; there is not such a difference in -our ages. I saw your aunt on Sunday about six o'clock. She laughed at -me and refused to consent to our marriage." Beads of perspiration had -again gathered on his forehead, but he went steadily on with his story, -oblivious apparently of the abhorrence with which his companions were -regarding him. "I had forged Miss Susan Baird's name in my desperation -last week. I knew that if Kitty and I were married quickly, she would -keep quiet about the forgery for her family's sake. When she laughed my -plan to scorn, I realized there was only one thing to do--to kill her." - -"How did you go about it?" asked Mitchell. - -It was some seconds before Craige answered. "I went prepared for -failure," he admitted. "I could not face ruin--perhaps the penitentiary -for forgery. My father was a famous expert in toxicology and," he -moistened his lips--"I often worked in his laboratory," with a side -glance at the bulb syringe still lying where it had fallen on the -floor. "I at first planned to squeeze some poison in her tea cup, -but got no chance. Then Miss Baird asked me to peel a peach for her. -I don't know where the peaches came from, but there were three in a -dish on the table. Before cutting the peach in two, I sprayed some -hydrocyanic acid on the knife-blade when Miss Baird was not looking, -holding the knife just over the edge of the table and the bulb in my -left hand, out of sight in my lap." - -"It was devilishly ingenious," commented Mitchell. "Well, did you steal -the forged paper after killing the old lady?" - -"No." Craige looked at Kitty with a faint sneer. "It was among those -canceled checks from the bank which you so obligingly left in your desk -yesterday alongside your revolver. I stole them both last night." - -"Last night?" Kitty looked at him in astonishment. "Why, we found you -at home last night, Ted and I. We telephoned you first that we were -coming and--" - -"I answered the 'phone; quite so." Craige's smile was peculiar. "My -butler, Lambert, is well trained and," with emphasis, "well paid. He is -quick at recognizing the voices of my intimate friends. I happened to -be in Washington in my, eh, town apartment," with a sidelong look at -Kitty. "From there I have a direct wire to my switchboard in my house, -and Lambert plugged in your call. You thought you were talking to me at -'Hideaway,' Rodgers, whereas I wasn't six blocks away from here. - -"I told Lambert to take care of you until I got home, then hurried over -here. I have a key to the side door. It took but an instant to slip -upstairs to your room and to go through your desk. Mandy never woke -up, but that infernal cat," with a vindictive snarl. "I wish I had -strangled her. When I got back to 'Hideaway,' I found you and Kitty so -engaged with each other that I knew you never realized the time I took -to appear." - -"So that was it!" Rodgers drew a long breath. "And you followed us and -tried to shoot me in the Park!" - -"Yes." Craige favored him with a scowl. "I got word yesterday that -you were wise to the kind of life I was leading--you knew too much. I -detected you watching me last night. If Kitty had not swerved her car -when she did, I'd have potted you, for I'm a crack shot as a general -thing." - -"And did you throw the revolver into the car as you dashed by?" asked -Kitty. - -"Yes. I had tied a handkerchief loosely about the butt of the revolver -so as not to leave finger prints," Craige added. "It was clever of you, -Rodgers, to trace the handkerchief as you did. In my haste that night, -I never noticed that I had one of Cecelia's handkerchiefs in my pocket -and none of my own." He paused, his voice had grown husky. "Well, that -clears up the mystery." - -"All but Mrs. Parsons' part in it," broke in Rodgers. "Where did she -come in, Craige?" - -Craige's color mounted, then receded, leaving him deadly white. - -"She cut a big splurge here," he began, "and soon went through her -money. She found out about Miss Baird and came here early Monday -morning, knowing that Kitty was spending the night with her cousins, -hoping to borrow from Susan. She found the front door open, so she told -me, and walked in. When she discovered Miss Baird lying dead in the -library, she bolted home and called up the police." - -"And why did she try to bribe Oscar?" demanded Kitty. - -"She wanted some papers to prove that your aunt was a money-lender," -Craige twisted about, his growing uneasiness plainly indicated by his -avoidance of their gaze. - -"In other words," cut in Mitchell. "Mrs. Parsons hoped to blackmail -Miss Kitty Baird by threatening to expose her aunt's career." - -Craige nodded sullenly. "Something like that," he admitted. - -Rodgers had not taken his eyes from him. "Did Mrs. Parsons know that -you wished to marry Kitty?" he asked. - -Craige shifted his feet about. "No," he muttered. - -"Did she know that you killed Miss Susan Baird?" Rodgers was persistent -in his questioning. - -"I'm not sure," Craige glanced up at him quickly, then dropped his -eyes. The sight of his handcuffs sent a shiver down his spine and he -again shifted his gaze. - -"Mrs. Parsons done picked up dat ar' rubber ball befo' she left on -Monday mawnin'," volunteered Oscar. The old man had been a fascinated -witness of all that transpired; his face, gray from fright at the death -of Cecelia Parsons, had regained its normal hue somewhat, but his eyes -still bulged from his head. - -"She did!" A startled look crept into Craige's ever shifting eyes. -"Why, I found the cat playing with the syringe when I first entered -this room. I knew that I had dropped it on Sunday, probably when I -re�ntered the library after Susan Baird screamed." A shudder shook him, -in spite of his iron self-control. "Seeing it here this afternoon, I -supposed it had rolled in some corner, and been overlooked. I judged -that the cat had selected it as a plaything." - -"It's a wonder the cat didn't poison herself," commented Mitchell. - -Craige's face was distorted into what he meant for a smile. "There -wasn't a drop of poison left in the syringe," he said. "I considered -finding it a direct act of Providence, for I expected trouble of some -kind, and brought with me a small phial of a concentrated solution of -crotalidae--" - -"What's that?" asked Mitchell. - -"Snake venom, and deadly when introduced into the blood," explained -Craige. "It's sometimes used in drugs given by homeopathists. During -the few minutes I was alone in the library I put the poison in the -syringe." - -"But if Mrs. Parsons carried away the syringe on Monday morning, how -did it get back in this library to-day?" asked Kitty. - -"She probably guessed that it was used to kill Miss Susan Baird in some -way, and brought it back to incriminate Miss Kitty Baird," declared -Mitchell. "Mrs. Parsons was as clever as they make them, but she -overreached herself when she tried to involve you, Mr. Rodgers. I kept -the wires to San Francisco hot until I found out that the papers she -produced to prove that you were involved in the Holt will forgery were -ones found in Gentleman Jake's house, when he and his confederates were -trying to forge Holt's will." He turned to Craige. "Did you put Mrs. -Parsons up to that deviltry, Mr. Craige?" - -Craige ignored the question and Potter broke his long silence. - -"I imagine he did," he said. "Mrs. Parsons was the divorced wife of -Gentleman Jake, and later she married Amos Parsons. He left some -property and she came east. She'd have lived straight, Craige, if it -hadn't been for you." - -"Craige," Mitchell's harsh voice made the lawyer turn with a nervous -jump. "Did you conceal that small bottle of prussic acid in the ivory -dice cup?" - -"Yes," sullenly, then with a venomous glance at Kitty. "I hoped to -involve you." - -"You yellow devil!" Ted Rodgers rose and stepped toward him, but -Mitchell intervened. - -"The law will deal with him, Mr. Rodgers; stand back, Sir. Now, Craige, -come on--" and, at a sign, Welsh, the detective, took his place by the -lawyer. - -Twice Craige tried to get upon his feet, only to sway back into his -seat. He had aged in the past hour, and when he finally stood upright -his shoulders sagged forward and his trembling knees seemed unable to -support him. - -"Catch him on the other side, Welsh," Mitchell directed. "Mr. Potter, -please telephone to Coroner Penfield." With a jerk of his head he -indicated the prone figure behind them. "Mrs. Parsons cannot be moved -until he gets here. Come, Craige." - -Craige moved forward a few hesitating steps and then halted. An -irresistible attraction which he could not conquer drew his eyes toward -Cecelia Parsons. Whatever emotion he felt he controlled admirably. He -stood for a moment motionless, then, without glancing to right or left, -he squared his shoulders and swinging around strode arrogantly from the -library, the two men on either side walking rapidly to keep up with him. - -The silence in the library grew oppressive and Kitty was conscious of a -feeling almost of nausea when Nina Potter came toward her. - -"Kitty," she said brokenly. "I did you a very great wrong when I wore -your red coat to come here on Sunday night with Leigh." - -"Did you not do your husband a greater wrong?" Kitty asked swiftly. - -"No." Nina flushed scarlet. "I am a coward, but I am a loyal wife." - -"I am entirely to blame," Leigh Wallace turned and addressed Potter -directly. "I was once engaged to your wife. We quarreled and she broke -it off. I never saw or heard from her again until we met this winter. -Nina would not let me pay her any attention, so, forgive me, Kitty, I -went with you because I could be with Nina without arousing talk," he -hesitated. - -No one spoke, and, after an instant's pause, Wallace continued: - -"On Saturday night Oscar brought me a note from Miss Susan Baird asking -me to come here on Sunday at five o'clock. I did take the peaches from -Mrs. Parsons' table on a silly impulse, for I knew Miss Baird was fond -of them and thought that I could placate her with a gift. - -"When I got here she told me how my father had jilted her and of her -hatred of me. She declared that she had secured, through bribing one of -Nina's servants, some old love letters of mine--they were undated, and -she proposed showing them to Ben Potter. I tried in every way to induce -her to return them to me, even offering a large sum of money. She -ordered me out of the house," he paused. "Then I went to Nina and asked -her to see Miss Baird and try to get her to give up the letters." - -"So I came over here with Leigh on Sunday night," Nina Potter took -up the story. "Miss Susan had loaned me your red coat, Kitty, last -Wednesday to wear home when it blew up so cold. The coat is distinctive -in appearance, and--well--" she faltered--"I knew if any one saw me, -there was a chance I might be mistaken for you. Afterwards I got rid -of the coat by selling it to a second-hand dealer." She caught her -husband's averted gaze and colored painfully. - -"Leigh left me at the side door of 'Rose Hill,'" she added. "I entered -the library--saw Miss Susan sitting there--dead--" she covered her eyes -with her hand as if to shut out some terrifying vision and a shudder -shook her. "I must have fainted, for it was late when I stole out of -the house. I left by the front door, and in my terror I put the big key -in the lock on the outside with some idea of locking poor Miss Susan -in the house. I heard an automobile coming and ran away, forgetting to -turn the key in the lock after all. When I got home I found Ben had not -gotten in and that you were still asleep, Kitty--so--" she faltered -again and glanced appealingly at her husband. - -Potter stirred uneasily. "I drove around a bit," he said. "Kitty, as I -thought, coming over here at that time of night with Wallace troubled -me, and I wanted time to think things over. When I heard of Cousin -Susan's murder--well, I--well, I kept silent until my jealousy of -Wallace drove me to try and implicate Kitty and him in the crime. - -"I saw you, Ted," he turned to Rodgers, "come out of a second-hand -clothing store on Pennsylvania Avenue with Kitty's coat on your arm. -The dealer told me that you had just paid twenty dollars for it. I -decided that if the coat was worth that to you, it might be worth -double the money to me: so I bribed the dealer to buy the coat back -from you. When that scheme failed, I went to your apartment--" - -"Where you failed again," broke in Rodgers. "Your coat was accidentally -burned up, Kitty, all except one pocket. In that pocket I found the -clue which gave the first inkling that Charles Craige might have -murdered your aunt--" - -"What was it?" demanded Kitty breathlessly. - -"An 'I.O.U.,' which your aunt must have slipped inside the coat pocket -and forgotten. The signature was obliterated, but I recognized Craige's -handwriting," Rodgers explained. "It showed me that Craige was under -heavy financial obligations to Miss Susan Baird while all the time he -protested absolute ignorance of her wealth. I immediately started to -investigate Craige's career, and it was that investigation, as he said -a few minutes ago, which forced his hand last night--" - -"And he nearly killed you!" Kitty's eyes were shining as she faced her -lover. "You endangered your life for me--" - -Regardless of the others' presence Rodgers drew her to his side. - -"Sweetheart," he murmured. "Sweetheart--" - -"Ahem!" Ben Potter cleared his throat, and faced the others. - -"Did you get your letters, Nina?" he asked, turning to his wife. - -"Not then, only this afternoon," she explained. "I found them in a box -under the mattress of Miss Susan's bed. Mrs. Parsons suspected that -I was searching for something, for yesterday she told me that for a -considerable sum of money she would aid me." - -"That woman was a fiend incarnate!" ejaculated Rodgers. - -"She sho'ly was, Sah," agreed Oscar. "She done her bes' to make me tell -de police that ole Miss let people have money. Yo' see, Miss Kitty, -ole Miss had me to help her, an' I promised never to tell, an' I never -broke my promise, never." - -"Oscar!" Kitty's eyes were dim with tears as she laid her hand on the -faithful servant's shoulder. "Where did you disappear yesterday?" - -"Jes' went down to my rooms an' laid low," promptly. "Mandy an' me -thought things were gettin' kinda critical 'round hyar. Las' night I -heered yo' an' Mister Rodgers a-plannin' to see Mister Craige, an' then -I went home again, scared stiff." - -"Wait, Oscar--" Rodgers interrupted him quickly. "Why did you ask me to -find Miss Kitty's red coat?" - -"I seen some one a-wearin' dat coat enter dis house as I was passin' -along de street late Sunday night," the negro explained. "I couldn't -swear it warn't yo', Miss Kitty, an' I couldn't swear it were; but I -calculated dat whoever 'twas might a lef' somethin' in de coat pockets -to tell on them." - -"It was a clever thought," exclaimed Rodgers. "But it would have been -better had you taken me entirely into your confidence, Oscar." - -"Yessir." But Oscar looked doubtful. "I was mighty concarned 'bout Miss -Kitty, 'deed I was, Sah. It warn't 'till jes' a spell back that that -detecertif man, Mister Welsh, who tried to find me in Front Royal an' -at las' found me to home, 'splained to me I had orter be hyar wif yo', -Honey, Miss Kitty, so then I comed round wif him." - -Leigh Wallace heard the old man to the end, then stared moodily across -the library. He started for the doorway and turned around. - -"I've destroyed your letters, Nina," he said. "I, forgive me, I feared -that you had killed Miss Susan Baird on Sunday night. That was why I -was so overcome when the crime was discovered. Mr. Potter," he spoke -with deep feeling. "Your wife loves you devotedly. I am but a forgotten -incident in her life. I received my orders for foreign service to-day. -Good-by." He clicked his heels together and with a bow which included -all in the library, turned and strode from the room. - -At sound of the front door closing, Potter stepped forward. He was -oblivious of any one's presence but his wife. - -"Nina, can you forgive me?" he asked humbly. "I have acted the part of -a jealous fool." - -Nina's answer was not in words. With a face in which joy obliterated -the shadow of the past few days, she slipped her arm within his and he -led her from the room. - -"Doan yo' wait hyar, Miss Kitty--" Oscar came forward a pace. "Jes' you -an' Mister Rodgers go right along. I'll stay wid dis--" and he nodded -significantly at Rodgers. The latter turned to take a last survey of -the library. Not far from Cecelia Parsons lay a small furry body--both -were rigid in death. - -"Come, sweetheart--" Rodgers slipped his arm around Kitty and they -walked toward the drawing room. Once there Kitty gave way to the grief -consuming her. - -"Poor Aunt Susan--how could Charles Craige have had the heart to kill -her!" she exclaimed. "He was her trusted friend." - -"He was a man of masks," Rodgers said gravely. "A man of character, -well educated, a social favorite and a brilliant lawyer, but heredity -proved too strong for him." And as Kitty looked at him in question, he -added, "Were you not aware that his father died insane?" - -Kitty shook her head. "I never knew it," she said. "How dreadful! The -whole affair--Aunt Susan's death--her life, oh, Ted, her life!" - -"Hush!" Rodgers laid his finger gently on her lips. "Let us forget the -tragedy in our happiness." - -Glancing shyly upward, Kitty read the worship in his eyes and her -rapidly beating heart sang a glad response. - -"All my life I have prayed for love," she murmured as he took her in -his arms; "even when I was only a little lonely child--and now to feel -such happiness as I never even imagined. To have you with me always--" - -"In our Kingdom of Love"--Rodgers' tender, caressing voice was melody -in her ears--"My queen--my queen!" - - THE END - - - - -TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES: - -Words and phrases that were typeset in italics in the original book -are noted here by an underscore (_) before and after. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Cat's Paw</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Natalie Sumner Lincoln</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October 29, 2021 [eBook #66627]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: D A Alexander and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAT'S PAW ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter hide" style="width:400px;"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="400" alt="Cover" title="" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="ph1">THE CAT’S PAW</p> - -<p class="center no-indent">BY</p><br /> - -<p class="ph2">NATALIE SUMNER LINCOLN</p> -<br /> -<p class="center no-indent bgap">AUTHOR OF “THE RED SEAL,” “THE UNSEEN EAR,”<br /> -“THE TREVOR CASE,” “THE MOVING FINGER,” ETC.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 65px;"> -<a id="i_title"><img src="images/i_title.jpg" width="65" alt="Publishers Logo" -title="" /></a></div> - -<p class="ph2 lggap">D. APPLETON AND COMPANY<br /> -NEW YORK :: 1922 :: LONDON<br /> -</p></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center no-indent"><small>COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY</small><br /> -D. APPLETON AND COMPANY<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -<small>Copyright, 1922, by Street and Smith<br /> -PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</small></p></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"><div class="bbox"> -<p class="left no-indent"><span class="u">By NATALIE SUMNER LINCOLN</span></p> - -<p class="left no-indent">THE CAT’S PAW<br /> -THE UNSEEN EAR<br /> -THE THREE STRINGS<br /> -THE MOVING FINGER<br /> -THE NAMELESS MAN<br /> -THE OFFICIAL CHAPERON<br /> -THE LOST DESPATCH<br /> -THE RED SEAL<br /> -I SPY<br /> -C. O. D.<br /> -THE MAN INSIDE<br /> -THE TREVOR CASE</p></div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> -<a id="i_frontispiece"><img class="box" src="images/i_frontispiece.jpg" width="450" alt="DROPPING THE CAT, SHE SPRANG TO HER FEET WITH A SLIGHT CRY" -title="" /></a></div> - -<p class="caption center no-indent">DROPPING THE CAT, SHE SPRANG TO HER FEET WITH A SLIGHT CRY</p> -<p class="right3">[page <a href="#Page_27">27</a>]</p></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="center no-indent">TO<br /> -EDNA LEIGHTON TYLER<br /> -<br /> -<small>THIS YARN IS AFFECTIONATELY<br /> -INSCRIBED IN TOKEN<br /> -OF A FAITHFUL FRIENDSHIP</small></p></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="3" summary="CONTENTS"> - -<tr><td class="tdbr"> </td> -<td class="center ph2">CONTENTS</td> -<td class="tdc"> </td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr reduce">CHAPTER</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdc reduce">PAGE</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">I.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Kitty!</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">II.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Summons</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_6">6</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">III.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Details</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">IV.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Suicide?</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_35">35</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">V.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">At the Morgue</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">VI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Testimony</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">VII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Parsons Has Callers</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">VIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Case of the Gila Monster</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_94">94</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">IX.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Parsons Asks Questions</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">X.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Rumors</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_127">127</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">XI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">I. O. U.</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_139">139</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">XII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Word of Warning</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_155">155</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">XIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Bribery</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_169">169</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">XIV.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">And Corruption</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_185">185</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">XV.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Bound in Red Tape</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_203">203</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">XVI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Startling Encounter</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_215">215</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">XVII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">“K. B.”</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_223">223</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">XVIII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Elusive Clues</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_239">239</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">XIX.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Suspicion</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_252">252</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">XX.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Feet of the Furtive</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_260">260</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">XXI.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Mouchette, the Seven-Toed</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_270">270</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdbr">XXII.</td> -<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Greed</span></td> -<td class="tdbr"><a href="#Page_287">287</a></td></tr> -</table></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> - -<h1>THE CAT’S PAW</h1> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I<br /> -KITTY!</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">M</span><span class="smcap">iss Susan Baird</span> let her gaze rest on -her companion in speculative silence. -Apparently, her last jibe had failed of its -mark, judging from the man’s unchanged expression. -With a vexed sigh she proceeded to pour out -another cup of tea.</p> - -<p>They were an oddly matched pair. Miss Baird, -still erect in spite of her seventy years, her small -slight figure tucked into one corner of the carved, -throne-shaped chair which was her habitual seat -when in her library, appeared dwarfed in comparison -with the broad-shouldered, powerfully built man -who faced her across the tea table.</p> - -<p>“So you wish to marry my niece, Kitty,” she -remarked. “<i>You!</i>” And she broke into shrill laughter.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> -<p>Her companion flushed hotly. Her ridicule cut -deeper than had any of her previous comments.</p> - -<p>“I intend to marry her,” he answered, and the -stubborn determination of his tone matched his set -features.</p> - -<p>“So!” Miss Baird shrugged her thin shoulders. -“You forget, my friend, that until Kitty is twenty-five -years of age, I am her legal guardian, and that -she is absolutely dependent upon me.”</p> - -<p>“You give her a home and let her work that she -may contribute to your support,” he retorted.</p> - -<p>At his words her eyes blazed in fury and her -talonlike fingers fumbled in the silver bowl for the -few pieces of sugar it contained.</p> - -<p>“I am her only blood relation. It is fitting and -proper that she aid me in my old age,” she exclaimed. -“My poverty,” she paused, and a certain -dignity crept into both voice and manner, “is my -misfortune.”</p> - -<p>“And Kitty,” he began, but got no further.</p> - -<p>“We will not discuss Kitty,” she announced with -finality. “Wait,” as he started to interrupt her. -“Such discussion is totally unnecessary, for Kitty -will never marry you.”</p> - -<p>“Why not?”</p> - -<p>“For two excellent reasons.” She spoke with -deliberation. “Kitty shall not marry a poor man, nor -shall she marry a man with an hereditary taint.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> - -<p>The man regarded her steadfastly across the table, -his strong capable hands still holding the peach -which he had been peeling. The silence lengthened, -but neither seemed inclined to break it. Suddenly, -the man laid down the peach and taking out -his handkerchief, passed it across his lips; then, still -in silence, he picked up the fruit knife, cut the peach -in two and, placing the fruit in front of Miss Baird, -rose and left the library.</p> - -<p>In the outer hall he paused long enough to pick -up his hat and gloves from the table where he had -placed them upon his arrival some time before. He -had opened the front door and was about to step -outside when it occurred to him to light a cigarette. -To do so, he released his hold on the front -door. His cigarette was just commencing to draw -nicely when a current of air from an opened window -across the hall blew the door, which he had -left ajar, shut with a resounding bang.</p> - -<p>As the noise vibrated through the silent house, -the man glanced nervously over his shoulder. -Evidently, it had not disturbed Miss Baird or the other -inmates of her household, for no one appeared in -the hall. He once more started to approach the -front door when he heard, through the portières in -front of the entrance to the library, Miss Baird’s -voice raised in anger.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Kitty!” she called. “Kitty!”</p> - -<p>As the name echoed through the silent hall, it -gave place to a scream of such intensity, such horror -that the man drew back aghast. It was some minutes -before he moved. With faltering footsteps he -retraced his way into the library and paused by the -tea table.</p> - -<p>Miss Susan Baird still sat in her throne-shaped -chair, but the light fell full on her glazing eyes and -distorted features.</p> - -<p>Slowly, reluctantly, the man bent nearer and -forced himself to place his hand upon her wrist. -He could feel no pulse. When he stood erect a -moment later, his forehead was beaded with perspiration. -Dazedly, he glanced about the library—he -and the dead woman were its only occupants.</p> - -<p>Again he compelled himself to gaze at her, and -subconsciously took note of her poor and patched -attire. The incongruity of her string of pearls and -the diamond rings upon her fingers impressed him -even in the presence of death.</p> - -<p>Step by step he retreated backward across the -room, his glance roaming upward toward the gallery -which circled the library and the short staircase -leading to it, but always his eyes returned to -that still and lonely figure by the tea table.</p> - -<p>A few minutes later the faint sound of the front -door being closed disturbed a large ball of fur. A -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>gray Angora cat jumped from its hiding place and, -with its back arched in fright, scampered through -the portières, and fled along the hall and up the -staircase to the attic.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II<br /> -THE SUMMONS</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">T</span><span class="smcap">he</span> broad streets of Washington City presented -a lively scene as Dr. Leonard McLean -drove his car with increasing slowness -down Connecticut Avenue, crowded with government -employees hastening to their offices. The congestion -was even greater than usual owing to the -downpour of rain as the drenched pedestrians -swarmed around the street car stops in their endeavor -to board cars, already packed to their limit, -and arrive promptly at nine o’clock at their various -destinations.</p> - -<p>McLean slowed down to a stop within the fifteen -feet limit prescribed by law, as the street car ahead -of him halted to take on passengers, and watched -with interest the futile efforts of the conductor to -prevent the desperate rush made by both men and -women to get through the car door at the same time. -Suddenly, McLean discerned a familiar face in the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>crowd before him and sounded his horn. The unexpected -“honk” created confusion among those -unable to find even clinging room, and the conductor, -taking advantage of the diversion, signaled to the -motorman and the car sped onward.</p> - -<p>“Hey, Leigh!” hailed McLean. “Leigh Wallace!”</p> - -<p>Major Wallace glanced around and with a wave -of his hand McLean indicated the vacant seat in his -roadster.</p> - -<p>“Hop in!” he exclaimed, as Wallace hurried -across the intervening space between the car and the -curbstone. “I’ll give you a lift downtown,” and, -hardly waiting for Wallace to seat himself and close -the door, the busy surgeon released the clutch and -the roadster sped down Connecticut Avenue.</p> - -<p>It was not until they were clear of traffic and were -approaching the intersection of Twenty-first Street -and Massachusetts Avenue that McLean realized -his companion had not returned his greeting or -addressed a word to him since entering the car. Turning -his head, he eyed him unobtrusively. Wallace -sat moodily staring ahead; his big frame, slumped -in the easiest posture, seemed to fill the broad seat -of the Packard. McLean took silent note of -Wallace’s expression and the unhealthy pallor of his -skin.</p> - -<p>“Get any sleep last night?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Not much.” Wallace drew out a leather wallet -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>from an inside pocket and produced a prescription. -“The druggist refused to fill this again; said I had -to get another prescription. Beastly rot,” he complained. -“Cost me a bad night.”</p> - -<p>The surgeon ran his eye over the prescription before -pocketing it.</p> - -<p>“It’s a narcotic,” he explained. “The druggists are -not allowed to refill. Next time you want one come -to me. How long is it since you left Walter Reed -Hospital, Leigh?”</p> - -<p>“Two months ago,” was the laconic rejoinder. -Wallace removed his hat and passed his hand over -his short-clipped hair. “I hope to report for duty -soon.”</p> - -<p>“Good!” McLean slowed down to make the turn -from Twenty-first Street into Massachusetts Avenue -and as they drove westward Major Wallace for the -first time took notice of the direction in which they -were heading and that they were no longer on Connecticut -Avenue.</p> - -<p>“Aren’t you going to your office, McLean?” he -inquired.</p> - -<p>“Not immediately. I have a professional call to -make first. Are you in a hurry?”</p> - -<p>The question seemed superfluous and McLean -smiled as he put it. The major’s apathetic manner -and relaxed figure could not be associated with -haste.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No,” Wallace answered. “I promised to stop -in and see Charles Craige some time this morning; -he’s attending to some legal business for me. Otherwise -I have nothing to do. This killing time gets -on my nerves—look at that, now,” and he held up a -hand that was not quite steady. “Take me on as -chauffeur, McLean. I understand an engine; shell-shock -hasn’t knocked that out of my head.”</p> - -<p>“Your head’s all right, old man. I told you that -when you were my patient at Walter Reed,” responded -McLean cheerily. “A few weeks more -and—” He stopped speaking as they crossed the Q -Street bridge into Georgetown, then, stepping on the -accelerator, he raced the car up the steeply graded -street and drew up in front of a high terrace.</p> - -<p>“Hello, are you going to ‘Rose Hill’?” demanded -Wallace, wakened from his lethargy by the stopping -of the car. He had apparently been unaware that -McLean had left his last sentence unfinished. “Who -is ill?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know.” McLean leaned back to pick up -his instrument bag which he carried in the compartment -behind his seat. “My servant called to me -just as I was leaving home that I had been telephoned -to come over here at once. I didn’t catch all she -said. I suppose Kitty Baird is ill. That girl is a -bundle of nerves.”</p> - -<p>Wallace clambered out of the car so that his more -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>nimble companion would not have to climb over his -long legs in getting out. As McLean turned to close -the door of his car, Wallace’s hand descended -heavily upon his shoulder.</p> - -<p>“What—who—who’s that standing in the Baird’s -doorway?” he gasped. “A policeman?”</p> - -<p>McLean swung around and glanced up at the -house. A long flight of stone steps led up to the -front door and a landing marked each break in the -terrace whereon grew rosebushes. It was the picturesque -garden which gave its name to the fine old -mansion—Rose Hill. The mansion had been built -in colonial times when the surrounding land, on -which stood modern houses and the present-day -streets, had been part of the “plantation” owned by -General Josiah Baird of Revolutionary fame. The -hand of progress had left the mansion perched high -above the graded street, but it had not touched its -fine air of repose, nor diminished the beauty of its -classic Greek architecture.</p> - -<p>Standing under the fanlight over the doorway -was the burly form of a blue-coated policeman.</p> - -<p>“Yes, that’s one of the ‘City’s finest,’” he laughed. -“What of it?” he added, observing his companion’s -agitation in astonishment. “The policeman is probably -taking the census; one called on me last Saturday.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> - -<p>Wallace swallowed hard. “That’s it,” he mumbled, -rather than spoke. “You’ve hit it.”</p> - -<p>McLean, conscious of the bleak wind which accompanied -the driving rain, stopped to open the -door of his roadster.</p> - -<p>“Wait in the car, Leigh; I won’t be long.” Not -pausing to see if his suggestion was followed, McLean -hurried up the steps.</p> - -<p>Wallace plucked at the collar of his overcoat and -opened it with nervous fingers, mechanically closed -the car door, and then with slow reluctant feet followed -McLean toward the mansion. He was breathing -heavily when he gained the surgeon’s side, and -the latter’s surprised exclamation at sight of him -was checked by the policeman who had advanced a -few steps to meet the two men.</p> - -<p>“Dr. McLean?” he asked, and as the surgeon -nodded, added, “Step inside, Sir.” He touched his -hat respectfully. “Is this gentleman with you, -Doctor?”</p> - -<p>“Why, certainly.” McLean glanced inquiringly -at the policeman; the latter’s manner indicated suppressed -excitement. “What’s to pay, Officer?”</p> - -<p>“They’ll tell you inside,” waving his hand toward -the open door. “The coroner’s there.”</p> - -<p>“Coroner!” McLean’s bag nearly slipped from -his hand; but before he could question the policeman -further, his name was called from the back of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>hall and he hurried inside the house. Coroner Penfield -stood by the portières in front of the library -door.</p> - -<p>“I am glad you could get here so promptly, McLean,” -he said. “Come in,” and he drew the portières -to one side. McLean entered the library hastily -and continued to advance with his usual brisk tread -until he caught sight of a huddled figure in the -throne-shaped chair.</p> - -<p>“Good God!” he ejaculated and retreated a few -steps. Recovering his usual calm poise he walked -around the tea table and examined the body. When -he straightened up and turned around, he found -Coroner Penfield’s attention was centered on Major -Leigh Wallace.</p> - -<p>Wallace had followed McLean across the threshold -of the library only, and stood with his back -braced against the doorjamb while his eyes mutely -scrutinized every movement made by the surgeon.</p> - -<p>“Well?” he questioned, and McLean’s stare grew -intensified. If he had not seen Wallace’s lips move -he would never have recognized his voice. With -difficulty Wallace enunciated his words. “Well—what—what -is it?”</p> - -<p>“It’s a case of—”</p> - -<p>“Sudden death.” Coroner Penfield completed -McLean’s sentence.</p> - -<p>In the silence that followed, a man who had been -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>leaning over the railing of the gallery which circled -the library, watching them, walked over to the stairs -and came slowly down. At sound of his footsteps -McLean glanced up and recognized Inspector -Mitchell of the Central Office. He bowed courteously -to the surgeon before addressing the coroner.</p> - -<p>“If it is all right, Dr. Penfield, we’ll have the body -removed,” he said. “My men are here.”</p> - -<p>“Certainly. Call them.” Penfield turned to McLean. -“I wanted you to be present as I understand -you attended Miss Susan Baird.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I have been her family physician for years.” -McLean spoke with an effort, his thoughts centered -on one idea. “Where is Miss Baird’s niece, Miss -Kitty Baird?”</p> - -<p>His question went unanswered. Apparently -Coroner Penfield and Inspector Mitchell failed to -hear him as they busied themselves in superintending -the removal of the body. McLean, after watching -them for some seconds, walked over to Wallace. -The latter took no notice of him whatever, his eyes -remaining always on the tea table. McLean scanned -his drawn face and listened to his labored breathing -with growing concern. Whirling around, he opened -his bag, took out a flask, detached its silver cup and -poured out a liberal allowance of whisky, then, darting -out of the library, he returned an instant later -with some water in a glass. Slightly diluting the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>whisky, he thrust the cup against Wallace’s white -lips.</p> - -<p>“Drink that,” he ordered, and Wallace followed -his peremptory command. “Now, sit down,” and -he half-pushed, half-supported him to a large leather -covered lounge.</p> - -<p>“I—I,” protested Wallace. “I’m a bit undone, -McLean,” and he raised miserable, apologetic eyes -to his friend.</p> - -<p>“Sure, it’s enough to bowl any one over,” McLean -acknowledged, with a sympathetic pat. “Even the -strongest—”</p> - -<p>“Which I am not,” supplemented Wallace. The -powerful stimulant was taking effect, and he spoke -with more composure. “Have you—can you—” he -hesitated, and cast a sidelong glance at McLean. -“Can you learn any details about Miss Baird and -how she came to be lying in that chair?” It was impossible -for him to suppress a shudder as he indicated -the empty throne-shaped chair. “She was -dead, wasn’t she?”</p> - -<p>“As dead as a door nail.” His question was answered -by Inspector Mitchell, who had returned in -time to catch their last few remarks. “Can you -give me any facts about Miss Baird, Doctor McLean?”</p> - -<p>“Only that she was a lifelong resident of Georgetown -and a well-known character—known for her -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>eccentricities, that is,” responded McLean. “Her -death has come as a great shock to Major Wallace -and to me, Inspector.”</p> - -<p>“When did you see her last?” inquired Mitchell. -His question was addressed to both men, but it was -McLean who answered it after a moment’s thought.</p> - -<p>“She was in my office on Friday.”</p> - -<p>“Was she ill?”</p> - -<p>“No. For a woman of her age she was remarkably -free from organic trouble,” replied McLean. -“In fact, she did not come to consult me about herself -at all, but to ask for a tonic for her niece. By -the way, where is Miss Kitty Baird?”</p> - -<p>At the question Wallace raised his head and eyed -the surgeon intently for a second, then dropped his -eyes as the other felt his gaze and turned toward -him.</p> - -<p>“Where is Miss Kitty Baird?” Mitchell repeated -the surgeon’s question. “Blessed if I know.”</p> - -<p>“What!” McLean started from the chair where -he had seated himself a moment before. “Do you -mean to say that Miss Kitty Baird is not in her -bedroom?”</p> - -<p>“I do.” Mitchell shook a puzzled head. “And -she isn’t in any part of the house. My men and I -have searched it thoroughly. We found only the -dead woman in the house and a live Angora cat.”</p> - -<p>McLean stared at the inspector in dumbfounded -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>amazement. A gurgling sound from the sofa caused -him to look at Wallace. The major, with purpling -face, was struggling to undo his collar.</p> - -<p>“Air! Air!” he gasped, and before the surgeon -could spring to his aid, he sank back unconscious -against the sofa pillows.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III<br /> -DETAILS</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">I</span><span class="smcap">nspector</span> Mitchell and Dr. McLean watched -the taxicab, in which rode Major Leigh Wallace -and Coroner Penfield, until it passed out -of sight on its way to Washington, before reëntering -the Baird mansion.</p> - -<p>“Major Wallace seems in bad shape,” commented -Mitchell, as they crossed the hall toward the library. -“I thought you would never bring him back to consciousness, -Doctor.”</p> - -<p>“This library wasn’t a pleasant sight for well man -to encounter, Mitchell, let alone a man in the major’s -condition,” replied McLean. “The results of shell-shock -do not exactly prepare a man for this—” and -with a wave of his hand the surgeon indicated the -tea table and the throne-shaped chair where Miss -Baird’s body had lain on their entrance three quarters -of an hour before.</p> - -<p>“Eh, yes; but I should have thought the major’s -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>experiences overseas would have accustomed him to -gruesome scenes.” Mitchell paused in front of -the portières and adjusted them carefully so that -they completely covered the doorway.</p> - -<p>“Walking into a room and finding a friend lying -dead is a shock, regardless of any past experience,” -responded McLean dryly.</p> - -<p>“Did Major Wallace know Miss Baird well?” -inquired Mitchell.</p> - -<p>“Know her well?” repeated McLean. “Yes, and -her niece, Kitty Baird, even better, if rumor speaks -truly.”</p> - -<p>A certain inflection in the surgeon’s voice caused -Mitchell to eye him sharply, but McLean’s attention -was entirely centered on the tea table before which -he was standing, and he appeared unaware of the -inspector’s scrutiny.</p> - -<p>“Exactly what do you mean, Doctor?” asked the -latter. “Your words would imply—”</p> - -<p>“Nothing—except that rumor has it that Leigh -Wallace and Kitty Baird are engaged to be married.” -McLean balanced one hand on a chair and -tipped it back and forth.</p> - -<p>“And what is your <i>personal</i> opinion, Doctor?” -asked Mitchell shrewdly.</p> - -<p>McLean hesitated. “I am not quite so certain,” -he admitted. “Three months ago I believed Wallace -and Kitty were engaged; then—”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes?—” as McLean paused once more in his -speech.</p> - -<p>“Then Kitty met Edward Rodgers of San Francisco,” -McLean smiled. “It’s a toss-up which man -wins.”</p> - -<p>“So.” The inspector considered a moment. “So -Miss Baird is still willing to take a chance on marrying -Major Wallace, is she?”</p> - -<p>“What d’ye mean?” McLean’s abstracted manner -disappeared instantly.</p> - -<p>“Well, I wouldn’t exactly like my daughter to -marry him,” retorted Mitchell. “Not after seeing -his condition here to-day. I haven’t much medical -knowledge—”</p> - -<p>“Quite so.” The surgeon’s dry tone caused -Mitchell to redden. “I can assure you, Mitchell, that -Major Wallace’s ill-health is but temporary.”</p> - -<p>“Is it?” Mitchell eyed him reflectively, then as -an idea occurred to him his expression altered. “By -Jove! Perhaps it wasn’t the sight of Miss Baird -lying there dead which knocked him out, but the -absence of her niece, Miss Kitty Baird.”</p> - -<p>McLean let the chair, which he had been balancing -on two legs, go slowly back to its proper position.</p> - -<p>“It is just possible that you are right,” he agreed. -“Kitty Baird’s absence has alarmed me also.”</p> - -<p>“Is that so? You kept mighty calm about it,” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>grumbled Mitchell. McLean was not evincing much -interest. “Possibly you don’t realize that Miss -Baird did not die a natural death.”</p> - -<p>McLean smiled ironically. “You pay me a poor -compliment,” he said. “I only made a superficial -examination of her body, but it assured me that -a—” he hesitated for a brief second, “that a tragedy -had occurred.”</p> - -<p>“Tragedy!” In fine scorn. “Why mince words? -Say murder.”</p> - -<p>“No.” McLean spoke with provoking deliberation. -“Suicide.”</p> - -<p>“Suicide!” echoed the inspector. “Bah! Look -at this room.”</p> - -<p>Obediently McLean glanced about the library. It -was a large room, almost square in shape, two -stories in height with an arched roof containing a -stained glass skylight. It was paneled in Flemish -oak; and oak bookcases, with sliding glass doors, -filled most of the wall space, while a gallery, on a -level with the second story, circled the library. Access -to the gallery was gained from the library by a -flight of circular steps near the huge brick chimney -which stood at the farther end of the room. Bookcases, -similar in type to those on the main floor of -the library, were in the gallery, and McLean scarcely -glanced upward; instead, his eyes roved over the -worn furniture with its shabby upholstery, the faded -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>rugs on the hardwood floor, until finally his gaze -rested on the tea table. Given to observation of little -things, he noticed the spotless condition of the tea -cloth and the neat darns in one corner. Inspector -Mitchell observed his silent contemplation of the -tea table.</p> - -<p>“Evidently Miss Baird was enjoying a cup of -tea,” he remarked. “See, her cup is half full.”</p> - -<p>“Have you analyzed its contents?” asked McLean.</p> - -<p>“Not yet.” Mitchell moved impatiently. “Give -us time, Doctor. It won’t take long to locate the -criminal. He is sure to have left a clue behind -him among the tea things.”</p> - -<p>“You will insist on murder!” McLean shrugged -his shoulders. “I see only one cup of tea,” pointing -to the table. “A teapot—is it empty?” He stretched -out his hand to pick it up, but Mitchell checked him -with an imperative gesture.</p> - -<p>“Don’t handle anything, Sir,” he cautioned. “We -are making tests for finger prints.”</p> - -<p>“Quite right.” McLean’s hand dropped to his -side. “Well, murder presupposes the presence of -some one beside the victim. I see only one teacup, -one plate with two sandwiches and a piece of cake, -another plate with a half-eaten peach. Not a very -bountiful repast. Now, while Miss Baird was poor, -she was hospitable, inspector; had any one been here, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>her visitor would have been provided with a cup -of tea at least.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps—but suppose she wasn’t aware of the, -er, visitor’s presence?” asked Mitchell.</p> - -<p>McLean eyed him in silence for a second. “Have -you found any indication of another’s presence?” -he questioned. “Any clues?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing worth mentioning now,” responded -Mitchell, evasively. “Can you give me the name of -an intimate friend to whom Miss Baird may have -gone?”</p> - -<p>“Why, certainly; there’s—let me see—” McLean -pulled himself up short. Who were Kitty Baird’s -intimate friends—her girl friends? He could -enumerate dozens of men whose admiration for her was -sincere and unconcealed, but when it came to the -girls in their set—pshaw! women were cats! Kitty’s -popularity had not endeared her to her own sex.</p> - -<p>“You might try Mrs. Amos Parsons,” he suggested, -and pointed to the telephone table in a corner -of the library. “Kitty is her private secretary. No, -wait,” as Mitchell snatched up the telephone book -and hastily turned its well-thumbed pages. “She -may be with her cousins, Mr. and Mrs. Ben Potter. -Here, I’ll look up their number for you.”</p> - -<p>Mitchell hung up the receiver in disgust a minute -later. “Central declares no one answers,” he -explained. “Who shall we try next? Mrs. Parsons, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>did you say?” This time he was more successful -in getting the number desired, but the reply to his -question was unsatisfactory. “The butler declares -Miss Baird hasn’t been there since yesterday,” he -told his companion. “Mrs. Parsons is not at home.”</p> - -<p>McLean’s expression had grown serious. “We -had better communicate with Charles Craige,” he -said. “Craige has handled Miss Baird’s affairs for -years, lawyer, agent, and all that. He may aid us in -locating Kitty.” Then with a touch of impatience, -“Don’t stop to look up the number of his law office—it -is Main 3300.”</p> - -<p>As Inspector Mitchell turned again to the telephone, -McLean rose and slowly paced back and forth -the length of the library. His familiarity with the -furnishings and the contents of the bookcases—his -taste in literature having coincided with that of Colonel -Baird, who spent the last years of his life -squandering a depleted fortune to gratify his craving -as a collector—caused him to pay little attention -to his surroundings, and he walked with head bent, -his thoughts with the dead woman upstairs.</p> - -<p>Was Inspector Mitchell right—could it have been -murder? Who would have reason to harm so feeble -an old lady? What motive could have inspired such -a senseless crime? Robbery—bah, thieves would -not kill to secure books and knickknacks of doubtful -value.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> - -<p>But then what motive could have prompted suicide? -Why should a woman so near the grave take -her own life? Miss Baird had abhorred illness in -any form; she had always had a healthy distaste for -invalidism, and little patience with neurotic friends.</p> - -<p>Miss Susan Baird, of all persons, to be found -dead—possibly murdered! McLean took out his -handkerchief and passed it over his forehead. For -the first time he grew conscious of the closeness of -the atmosphere, of the musty smell which dampness -sometimes engenders. Instinctively, he stopped in -front of a side door which opened on a “stoop” leading -to the garden which extended to the back of the -house. The door resisted his attempts to open it, -and he felt for the key. It was not in the lock.</p> - -<p>McLean stared at the door in some surprise. It -was the only one in the house fitted with a modern -lock, and it had always been Miss Baird’s custom to -leave the key in the lock. The locks of the other -doors were hand-wrought before the Revolution -and massive in size. It had been Miss Baird’s fad -never to have them modernized. One of her few -extravagances, if it could be called such, had been to -employ a grandson of old “Oscar,” their colored -factotum, to keep the copper highly burnished and -shining with its old-time, slave-day luster. The -great fireplaces were lined with copper and Miss -Baird was never happier than when able to contem<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>plate -her grotesque reflection in the walls of the fireplace -in her library.</p> - -<p>McLean had been a frequent visitor at the Baird -mansion, but never before had he seen the key removed -from the side door of the library. With a -puzzled frown he reached up and pulled back the -copper latch which released the upper half of the -door—built in the style of the “Dutch” door—and -pulled it back. The fresh air, laden as it was with -dampness, was refreshing. The rain had slackened, -and seeing there was no danger of it splashing inside -the library, he pulled the half door still further -open. Turning about, he found Inspector Mitchell -at his elbow.</p> - -<p>“I caught Mr. Craige,” he announced. “He is -coming right over.” Then with a complete change -of tone. “How did you open the upper half of this -door?”</p> - -<p>“By pushing the catch, so—” and McLean demonstrated.</p> - -<p>“Hump!” Inspector Mitchell moved the catch -back and forth. “I see, there’s a knack about it; it -baffled me when I tried to open it. I have the key -of the lower door,” and he drew it out of his pocket.</p> - -<p>“Why did you take it out of the lock?”</p> - -<p>“Because—” Inspector Mitchell’s answer was interrupted -by the sudden rush of feet across the -outer hall. The portières were thrust aside and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>a girl dashed into the library followed by a man.</p> - -<p>Utterly oblivious of the inspector’s presence, she -sped across the room to McLean.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Doctor, is it true?” she gasped, incoherently. -“Is Aunt Susan—has she—” She faltered and McLean -caught her outstretched hands and drew her -into a chair.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said, and his quiet, controlled tone -brought some measure of relief to the overwrought -girl. “Your aunt is dead.”</p> - -<p>Kitty Baird’s head dropped forward and rested on -her cupped hands, and tears forced their way -through her fingers. At the sound of her weeping, -a seven-toed Angora cat stole out from behind a -piece of furniture and pattered across the floor. -With a flying leap she seated herself in Kitty’s lap -and brushed her head against the girl’s hands. Kitty -looked down, caught the soft body in her arms and -held the cat tightly to her.</p> - -<p>“Mouchette, Mouchette,” she moaned. “Aunty’s -gone—gone,” and she buried her face in the long -fur. Gradually, her sobs grew less, and McLean, -observing that she was regaining some hold on her -composure, withdrew to the other end of the library -where Inspector Mitchell was holding a low-toned -conversation with Charles Craige.</p> - -<p>“I am glad you are here, Craige,” McLean said, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>keeping his voice lowered. “This is the devil of a -mess.”</p> - -<p>The lawyer’s handsome face expressed grave -concern. “So I judge from what Inspector Mitchell -told me on the telephone and what he has just said.” -He moved so as to catch a better view of the library. -“Where have you taken Miss Baird?”</p> - -<p>“To her bedroom,” replied Mitchell. “The autopsy -will be held this afternoon probably.”</p> - -<p>He had not troubled to lower his rather strident -voice and his words reached Kitty’s ears. Dropping -the cat, she sprang to her feet with a slight cry.</p> - -<p>“Autopsy?” she exclaimed. “No, not that!” And -she put up her hand as if to ward off a blow.</p> - -<p>“Why not?” demanded Mitchell, and as Kitty -hesitated, McLean spoke quickly.</p> - -<p>“It is customary in cases of sudden death, Kitty, -to hold autopsies,” he explained. “Your aunt was -found dead in this room—”</p> - -<p>“Here!” Kitty looked about with a shudder. “I -did not realize—Mr. Craige only told me—we met at -the door,” she pulled herself up short, waited a moment, -then continued with more composure. “I -understood that aunty had died suddenly. It has -been a great shock,” she looked piteously from one -to the other. “I have lived with aunty ever since I -can remember—and now to be without her!” She -again paused to steady her voice. “Oh, it seems im<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>possible -that she is dead; she was so alive—so -anxious to live.”</p> - -<p>Inspector Mitchell cocked an eager eye at McLean.</p> - -<p>“So she wanted to live, Miss,” he commented. -“Never expressed any wish to end her life, did she, -Miss Baird?”</p> - -<p>“Never!” Kitty stared at him in astonishment. -“What put such an idea into your head?”</p> - -<p>“It wasn’t ever in <i>my</i> head,” Mitchell retorted. -“Dr. McLean is responsible for the theory.”</p> - -<p>Kitty turned and looked directly at McLean. -Tears were still very near the deep blue eyes, and -her cheeks had lost their wonted color, but as she -faced the three men they were conscious of her -beauty. Slightly above medium height, she looked -taller owing to her straight and graceful carriage. -McLean sighed involuntarily. He dreaded a scene.</p> - -<p>“Why, Doctor, what made you think Aunt Susan -wished to die?” Kitty’s voice rose. “You told me -only last week that she was in excellent health.”</p> - -<p>“So I did.” McLean spoke in haste. “Your -aunt was in good health, Kitty; but, eh, the circumstances -of her death—”</p> - -<p>Kitty’s eyes widened. “The circumstances of her -death,” she repeated slowly, and paused as if seeking -a word, “were they not—natural?”</p> - -<p>“No, Miss Baird, they were not,” broke in In<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>spector -Mitchell, anxious to have the floor. “We -found your aunt dead in this library about two hours -ago. Dr. McLean examined her body; he can tell -you from what she died.”</p> - -<p>Kitty looked in mute question at McLean while -her trembling hands plucked aimlessly at her damp -handkerchief. The surgeon impulsively put his arm -about her shoulder before speaking.</p> - -<p>“Your aunt died from a dose of poison,” he stated -slowly.</p> - -<p>“Poison!” Kitty reeled and but for McLean’s -strong arm would have fallen. Dumbly, she stared -at the three men. “Aunt Susan poisoned! By -whom?”</p> - -<p>“We do not know that—yet,” replied Mitchell, -and the tone of his voice chilled Kitty. It was some -seconds before she could speak.</p> - -<p>“What poisoned her?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“The exact nature of the poison will be determined -by the autopsy,” broke in McLean. “The -coroner’s examination of the body and mine were -superficial, but it did establish the fact that your -aunt had swallowed poison.” He caught the terror -which flashed into Kitty’s eyes, and added impulsively, -“Miss Baird, in a moment of insanity, may -have committed suicide.”</p> - -<p>“There you go again, Doctor.” Mitchell laughed -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>shortly. “Now, Miss Baird, where did you spend -last night?”</p> - -<p>“With my cousin, Nina Potter, and her husband, -at their apartment in Sixteenth Street,” Kitty spoke -mechanically. Turning about she walked stiffly over -to a chair and sank into it. She wondered if her -companions were aware of her trembling knees.</p> - -<p>“Kitty,” Charles Craige’s charmingly modulated -voice sounded soothingly to her overwrought nerves. -“I would have prepared you for this had I known,” -he hesitated, “these details. But Inspector Mitchell -only telephoned to me that your aunt was dead, and -it was not until we both came in that I learned, as -you have, of the tragedy. I grieve with you, dear -child; your aunt was my good friend for many -years.”</p> - -<p>Kitty looked up at him gratefully. She was very -fond of her handsome godfather. “Thank you,” -she murmured. “I feel stunned.” She pressed her -fingers against her temples. “Oh, poor aunty—to -die here alone! Why, why didn’t I get up early and -come here at once without waiting for breakfast? -I might have saved her.”</p> - -<p>McLean moved uneasily and exchanged glances -with Mitchell.</p> - -<p>“Don’t reproach yourself, Kitty,” he begged. -“Your presence here this morning would not have -saved your aunt,” and as she looked at him in aston<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>ishment, -he added more slowly, “judging from the -condition of the body, your aunt died fully twenty -hours ago.”</p> - -<p>Charles Craig broke the silence. “Twenty hours -ago,” he repeated. “That would be yesterday—”</p> - -<p>“Sunday afternoon, to be exact,” stated Inspector -Mitchell. “When did you leave here, Miss Baird?”</p> - -<p>“Yesterday afternoon, about three o’clock; no, -nearly four,” Kitty corrected herself with a haste -not lost upon the inspector.</p> - -<p>“And when did you last see your aunt alive?” -he questioned.</p> - -<p>“About that time.” Kitty’s foot tapped restlessly -against the rug. “She was in her bedroom, and I -called to her as I went down the staircase.”</p> - -<p>“What did you say to her?” Mitchell was taking -mental note of Kitty’s well-groomed appearance -and her nervous handling of her handkerchief.</p> - -<p>“I told her not to sit up late.” Kitty did not meet -the inspector’s eyes. “Aunt Susan seldom went to -bed before one or two o’clock in the morning; she -claimed it rested her to sit up and read in the library.”</p> - -<p>“Were the servants here when you left the -house?” asked Mitchell.</p> - -<p>“Servants?” A ghost of a smile touched Kitty’s -lips. “Aunty would not employ any one but old -Oscar. He never comes until about seven in the -morning, and leaves immediately after dinner.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> - -<p>“And was it your custom to leave your aunt alone -in the house at night?” Mitchell was blind to the -heavy frown with which McLean listened to his -continued questioning of Kitty. The surgeon -guessed the tension she was under and dreaded a -breakdown.</p> - -<p>“Occasionally, yes.” Observing Mitchell’s expression, -Kitty added hastily, “Why not? Aunt -Susan feared no one.”</p> - -<p>“And she was murdered.” Inspector Mitchell -eyed her keenly; then glanced at his companions—both -men were watching Kitty.</p> - -<p>“Or killed herself—” Kitty spoke with an effort. -“How did you learn of my aunt’s death?”</p> - -<p>Inspector Mitchell seemed not to hear the question -and Kitty repeated it more peremptorily.</p> - -<p>“We received a telephone message, at Headquarters,” -he stated finally. “I was in the office at the -time and came over to investigate.” He paused -dramatically. “We found your aunt sitting dead in -that chair.” He walked over and touched the -throne-shaped chair. Kitty did not follow him except -with her eyes.</p> - -<p>“How did you get in?” asked Craige, walking -toward him.</p> - -<p>“We found the key of the front door in the lock -<i>on the outside</i>,” replied Mitchell.</p> - -<p>“What!” Kitty sprang to her feet.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Odd, wasn’t it?” Mitchell was watching her -closely.</p> - -<p>“Very,” briefly. Kitty paused in thought. “What -was the nature of the message you received over the -telephone, Inspector?”</p> - -<p>“To come at once to ‘Rose Hill,’” Mitchell spoke -with impressiveness. “That a crime had been committed.”</p> - -<p>“Good heavens!” Kitty took a step in his direction, -but before she could speak again, Mitchell held -up his hand for silence.</p> - -<p>“Did I understand, Miss Baird, that you and -your aunt occupied this house alone at night?” he -asked.</p> - -<p>“We did.”</p> - -<p>“And you left here between three and four o’clock -on Sunday—yesterday afternoon?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“And the last time you saw your aunt she was -alive?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Do you employ a female servant?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>Inspector Mitchell regarded the girl in silence. -She bore his scrutiny with outward composure.</p> - -<p>“Miss Baird,” he spoke slowly, weighing his -words. “I took the message over the telephone to -come at once to ‘Rose Hill’—that a crime had been -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>committed here. The message was given by a -woman.”</p> - -<p>Kitty stared at him uncomprehendingly, dumbly; -then, before they could detain her, she fled from the -library and rushing upstairs, dashed into her room, -locked the door, and flung herself face downward -on the bed.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV<br /> -SUICIDE?</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">T</span><span class="smcap">he</span> reception was in full swing and Mrs. -Amos Parsons contemplated her crowded -drawing room in a spirit of happy self-congratulation. -She had just welcomed a newly -accredited ambassador and introduced a Cabinet -officer to the ambassador’s charming wife and she -felt that her feet were at last securely placed upon -the ladder of success. The scene was typical of the -national Capital. The World War had rudely interrupted -the “calling” days of the hostesses of -Washington, but with the advent of peace a return -had been made to old customs, and “teas” were again -taking their accepted place in the social calendar.</p> - -<p>“A penny for your thoughts,” said a masculine -voice over her shoulder and glancing around Mrs. -Parsons found Charles Craige at her elbow.</p> - -<p>“You offer a penny too much,” laughed Mrs. -Parsons. “They were idle thoughts—”</p> - -<p>“About the idle rich.” Craig looked at her with -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span>admiration. “Upon my word, Cecilia, you grow -prettier every day.”</p> - -<p>“Happiness is a great ‘beautifier,’” Mrs. Parsons -glanced up at him with a strange, new shyness; then -quickly veiled her eyes that he might not read her -thoughts too plainly. Under pretense of arranging -the bouquet, his gift, which she was carrying, Craige -pressed her hand. His marked attention to the fascinating -widow had aroused the interest of their -circle of friends, and the prospect of the announcement -of their engagement had formed the topic of -conversation on numerous occasions.</p> - -<p>There was a lull in the arrival of guests and Mrs. -Parsons imperceptibly edged toward an alcove. -Many curious glances were cast in their direction by -both men and women who stood chatting in groups -about the long drawing room. They made a striking -tableau—Mrs. Parsons’ delicate beauty enhanced by -a perfectly fitting modish gown, and Charles Craige, -standing tall and straight beside her, his iron-grey -hair and ruddy complexion adding distinction to his -appearance.</p> - -<p>“The world and his wife are here this afternoon, -Cecilia,” he said. “Your tea is an unqualified success. -And every one is lingering,” glancing down -the room. “That is a sure sign that they are enjoying -themselves.”</p> - -<p>“Except Major Wallace.” Mrs. Parsons drew -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span>his attention to a man worming his way between the -groups of people. “He appears to avoid his -friends—there, he has cut Nina Potter dead.”</p> - -<p>“What a caddish thing to do!” Craige spoke -with warmth as he saw Mrs. Potter shrink back and -her half-extended hand drop to her side. Turning -quickly, she slipped behind two women and disappeared -from their sight. Walking moodily ahead, -Leigh Wallace found himself face to face with his -hostess and Charles Craige.</p> - -<p>“Not leaving so early, surely?” she exclaimed as -he put out his hand.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I just dropped in for a minute,” Wallace -explained, and he made no effort to conceal the indifference -of his tone. “I don’t feel very fit this -afternoon, so you must excuse me. Good evening, -Craige,” and he turned abruptly and left them.</p> - -<p>“Of all uncivil people!” observed Mrs. Parsons, -much incensed. “That’s the last invitation he gets -to my house.”</p> - -<p>“He doesn’t look well,” Craige remarked thoughtfully. -“I presume he and Kitty Baird have had another -quarrel.”</p> - -<p>“Well, he has no right to vent his ill-humor on -me or my guests.” Mrs. Parsons was not pacified.</p> - -<p>“I hope Kitty decides to marry Ted Rogers and -not Leigh Wallace.” Craige looked grave. “It -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>would be a far more suitable match, although I understand -Rodgers is not wealthy.”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Rodgers was here a moment ago.” Mrs. -Parsons raised her lorgnette and glanced about her. -“He asked particularly for Kitty. Where in the -world is she? She was to pour tea for me this afternoon.”</p> - -<p>“Have you not heard—”</p> - -<p>“Heard?” Attracted by the alteration in Craige’s -voice, Mrs. Parsons looked at him. “Heard what?”</p> - -<p>“That Kitty’s aunt, Miss Susan Baird, was found -dead this morning—”</p> - -<p>“Great heavens!” Mrs. Parsons retreated a step -in shocked surprise. “Oh, Mrs. Sutherland, so glad -to see you. You know Mr. Craige, of course.” As -the newcomer and the lawyer exchanged greetings, -Mrs. Parsons saw Nina Potter and started toward -her, but several guests claimed her attention and -when she looked around Nina had vanished.</p> - -<p>The room which served Benjamin Potter as a -combination workshop and library was at the other -end of the apartment which the elderly naturalist -had leased upon his marriage to Nina Underwood -six months before. The apartment house, one of -those erected to meet the demands for housing -wealthy war-workers who thronged the national -Capital during the winter of 1917-1918, had but one -apartment to each floor, and Potter had been grati<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>fied -by having the best room, from his point of view, -set aside for his exclusive use by his bride.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Potter had also seen to it that the furniture -was of the finest mahogany, the filing and specimen -cases of the most approved models, while the leather-seated -chairs and lounges added greatly to the comfort -of the occupants of the room. No expense had -been spared and for the first time in his hard-working, -studious life, Ben Potter had found himself surrounded -with every comfort which money could -purchase.</p> - -<p>Potter’s marriage to his pretty stenographer had -been a severe shock to several impecunious relatives -and a nine days’ wonder to his small world. He had -taken the surprised comments and sometimes belated -congratulations of both relatives and friends -with the same placid good nature which characterized -all his actions. Nina, with a tact for which she -had not been credited, went out of her way to cultivate -his friends, and if she felt the chilly reception -accorded her, never by word or manner betrayed the -fact.</p> - -<p>Seated alone in his room and absorbed in his -book, Potter was oblivious of the lengthening -shadows and was only recalled to his surroundings -by the opening of the door.</p> - -<p>“Well, what is it?” he asked testily. “Oh!” At -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>sight of his wife, his expression brightened. “I did -not expect you home so soon.”</p> - -<p>“Soon?” Nina laughed softly, as she brushed -his unruly gray hair back from his forehead. “Have -you no idea of the time? It is nearly six o’clock, -and you should not be reading with only one light -turned on. Doctor McLean must talk to you.”</p> - -<p>Potter made a wry face. “I would rather listen -to you than any doctor,” he said and pulled forward -a chair close to his own. “Tell me, have you had a -pleasant time at Mrs. Parsons’ tea?”</p> - -<p>“Does one ever have a pleasant time at a tea?” -Nina’s gesture was eloquent. “Where are your -matches, dear?”—fumbling, as she spoke, with her -cigarette case.</p> - -<p>Potter frowned slightly as he located a match box -under the tumbled papers on his desk and struck a -light for her. He had never been able to master his -dislike to women smoking, in spite of his staunch belief -that his pretty wife was always right in everything -she did. Reading his expression like a book, -Nina slipped her hand inside his and leaned against -his arm.</p> - -<p>“It is very lonely going about without you,” she -murmured. “I don’t enjoy myself a bit when you -remain at home.”</p> - -<p>Potter turned and kissed the soft cheek so near -his own. “My holiday is over,” he answered, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>putting out his foot touched a packing case, its contents -partly spread on the floor in an untidy pile. -“I cannot neglect my work.”</p> - -<p>“You will never be accused of that,” with flattering -emphasis. “But, dear, I need—want your society -more than these dreadful reptiles,” and she made a -slight grimace as she glanced at the bottles containing -specimens preserved in alcohol which adorned -the shelves of a cabinet near at hand. “I know,” -lowering her voice, “I’m selfish—”</p> - -<p>“I love your selfishness, dear,” he replied, and -held her closely to him just as a tap sounded on the -door. “Confound it! Come in.”</p> - -<p>The Japanese servant, who answered his command, -bowed profoundly, and his calm gaze never -flickered at sight of the loverlike attitude of husband -and wife.</p> - -<p>“You home, Sir?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, of course, I’m home. What of it?” Potter -dropped his arm from about his wife’s waist in embarrassment.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Rodgers call upon you.” The Japanese -spoke without haste. “You see him?”</p> - -<p>“Certainly. Bring him here,” and at the words -Moto vanished.</p> - -<p>“Here?” echoed Nina. “Isn’t it a bit untidy?”</p> - -<p>“What of it? He hasn’t come to see us,” he -grumbled. “Probably thinks Kitty is here. I don’t -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>approve of Kitty playing fast and loose with those -two men.”</p> - -<p>“What men?” Nina was not looking at her husband, -and missed his keen scrutiny.</p> - -<p>“Ted Rodgers and Leigh Wallace,” briefly. “If -it goes on much longer, I will speak to Cousin Susan -Baird. Hello, what did you do that for?” as the -room was suddenly plunged in darkness. A second -later the light flashed up.</p> - -<p>“I pulled the wrong string,” Nina explained as -she lighted both sides of the electric lamp.</p> - -<p>Potter paused undecidedly, then rose and, going -over to the packing case, tossed excelsior and paper -back into it and pushed it behind a screen. When -he turned back, he saw Nina deftly rearranging the -ornaments and papers on his flat top desk. In -silence he watched her graceful movements and the -play of the lamplight on her hair which shone like -spun gold under its rays. It would have taken a -more observant man than her husband to have discovered -that nature’s art had been supplemented by -the rouge pot. No wrinkles marred the soft pink -and white tint of her complexion, and few would -have guessed that she had passed her thirtieth birthday.</p> - -<p>Looking up, Nina caught her husband’s gaze and -flushed faintly.</p> - -<p>“I hope Mr. Rodgers won’t stay long,” she began, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>and checked herself hastily as Moto ushered in their -caller. “So very glad to see you, Mr. Rodgers,” she -exclaimed, extending her hand, which rested in his -for a fraction of a second and was withdrawn.</p> - -<p>At the touch of her cold fingers, Rodgers looked -intently at her. He still found it hard to realize that -the fashionably gowned woman before him was Ben -Potter’s wife. Ben a Benedict! The mere idea had -provoked a smile, and the announcement of the marriage -in cold print had produced a burst of merriment, -and the silent hope that Ben had found a -motherly soul to run his house for him. Instead of -which, with the perversity of Fate, Ben Potter had -selected a wife at least fifteen years his junior, who -would most certainly enjoy the social life of Washington -to the full.</p> - -<p>Potter had formed a strong attachment for the -younger man when spending a winter in San Francisco -three years before and Rodgers had been a -frequent visitor since his arrival in Washington. -His visits, as Potter shrewdly noted, were generally -timed to find Kitty Baird with her cousins, and ended -in his escorting her home.</p> - -<p>“I missed you both at Mrs. Parsons’ tea, so -dropped in for a chat,” Rodgers remarked, accepting -a cigar from Potter as Nina perched herself on one -end of the lounge. “Why weren’t you there?”</p> - -<p>“Nina went,” answered Potter, throwing himself -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>down in his favorite chair. “You don’t catch me -at a tea.”</p> - -<p>“You were there, Mrs. Potter?” Rodgers spoke -in surprise. “I searched for you—”</p> - -<p>“It was a frightful jam.” Nina picked up her -workbag which she had left on the lounge earlier -in the afternoon and unfolded its contents. “I did -not stay long.”</p> - -<p>“But you heard the news?”</p> - -<p>“News?” Potter glanced up, expectantly. The -tone in which the question was put arrested his attention -which had strayed to his wife. “Was there -any special news? Nina, you didn’t tell me.”</p> - -<p>“I heard no news in particular.” Nina held a -needle and thread nearer the light. “To what do -you refer, Mr. Rodgers?”</p> - -<p>“To the death of Miss Susan Baird.”</p> - -<p>Potter sat bolt upright. His healthy color changed -to a sickly white. “Cousin Susan dead? Impossible!”</p> - -<p>“It is a fact. Mr. Craige told me—” Rodgers -stooped over and picked up the needle which had -slipped from Nina’s clutch. “Take care you don’t -prick yourself, Mrs. Potter,” he warned, as he placed -it in the palm of her hand and noticed the quick, -spasmodic movement of her fingers. “The news -had just gotten about and every one at the tea was -talking of Miss Baird.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> - -<p>“That’s turning the tables; usually Cousin Susan -talked about everybody,” Potter remarked, breaking -a slight pause. “Why hasn’t Kitty telephoned us? -I am now her nearest living relative.”</p> - -<p>“She may have tried to reach us,” suggested his -wife. “I don’t suppose Moto answered the telephone -in my absence; he hates it. Did you hear it ring, -Ben?”</p> - -<p>“No,” shortly. “I can’t say I grieve over your -news, Ted. I have always resented Cousin Susan’s -treatment of Kitty. Made the girl slave for her, the -venomous old scandal-monger.”</p> - -<p>“Ben!” Nina’s shocked tone caused her husband -to pause in his rapid speech. “Did you hear, Mr. -Rodgers, the cause of Cousin Susan’s death?”</p> - -<p>“Bit her tongue and died from blood-poisoning,” -growled Potter, before Rodgers could answer.</p> - -<p>“Ben!”</p> - -<p>“Well, all right, dear; I’ll say no more. But,” in -self-defense, noting Rodgers’ surprise, “I’ve had no -cause to love Cousin Susan— I heard her caustic -remarks about my marriage. Never mind that -now,” with a quick glance at his wife. “Go ahead, -Ted, tell us of what Cousin Susan died.”</p> - -<p>“The coroner will have to answer that question, -Ben.”</p> - -<p>“The coroner!” Potter rose to his feet and stared -at his guest. “What d’ye mean? Oh, hurry your -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span>speech, man; don’t keep us in suspense,” as Rodgers -hesitated and eyed Mrs. Potter in some trepidation. -Judging from her sudden loss of color, she was -about to faint.</p> - -<p>“Your cousin was found dead,” he said, and got no -further.</p> - -<p>“Found dead—where?” demanded Mrs. Potter, -breathlessly.</p> - -<p>“In her library.”</p> - -<p>Potter broke the pause. “Go ahead and tell us -what you know, Ted.” He reseated himself. “Give -us every detail.”</p> - -<p>Rodgers shook his head. “I know very little on -the subject,” he said. “I stopped on the way here -and telephoned to ‘Rose Hill,’ but could get no response; -so I came right here supposing you could -tell me further news. I thought Miss Kitty might -be with you.”</p> - -<p>“We have not seen Kitty since early this morning,” -answered Nina. “Who found Cousin Susan?” -Rodgers, his ear trained to detect variations in the -human voice, observed a faint huskiness in the usual -soft tones.</p> - -<p>“I do not know, Mrs. Potter,” he said. “Miss -Baird was so well-known in Washington that her -death was commented on at the tea, and I only heard -a garbled account of what occurred. Perhaps there -might be something in the evening paper.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> - -<p>“To be sure.” Potter jumped at the suggestion, -and hurrying toward the door, pushed an electric -bell. A second later and Moto responded. “The -evening paper, quick.”</p> - -<p>Moto let his gaze travel around the room, then -darting forward he crossed to where the packing -case stood partially concealed behind the screen. -Delving into its contents, he returned a moment later -with a crumpled newspaper and extended it to his -master.</p> - -<p>“You toss it down, so,” demonstrating, “when I -bring it to you, sir,” he explained. “You say, ‘Moto, -don’t trouble me, go away,’ and I go.”</p> - -<p>“Well, well, Moto, you interrupted me.” Potter’s -tone was apologetic. “Much obliged for finding the -paper. That is all I wanted.” And Moto slipped -away to his pantry in time to hear the buzzer of the -front door bell sounding faintly.</p> - -<p>Forgetful of all but the paper in his hand, Potter -turned it over and searched for the item of news.</p> - -<p>“Try the first page,” suggested Rodgers. Potter -switched the sheet around and gave vent to a startled -exclamation as his eyes fell on the double column -heading:</p> - -<p class="center no-indent">ELDERLY SPINSTER FOUND DEAD<br /> -SUICIDE SUSPECTED</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Suicide!” Potter gasped. “Bless my soul! -Who would have believed Cousin Susan would kill -herself?”</p> - -<p>“She didn’t!” The denial rang out clearly from -the direction of the door and wheeling around the -three occupants of the room saw Kitty Baird confronting -them. “Aunt Susan did not commit suicide, -Ben; you know she didn’t.”</p> - -<p>Potter stared at her long and earnestly. Twice -he opened his mouth to speak and closed it again, -after a look at Ted Rodgers who, upon Kitty’s entrance, -had stopped somewhat in the background so -that his face was in shadow.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know anything,” Potter said finally. “I -haven’t read the paper—”</p> - -<p>“The paper has printed lies!” Kitty’s foot came -down with an unmistakable stamp, and her eyes -sparkled with wrath. “I tell you Aunt Susan did not -commit suicide.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, dear.” Nina stepped hastily forward and -threw her arm protectingly across Kitty’s shoulder. -“Come and sit down, and when you are more composed -you can tell us of—of the details.” Exerting -some strength, she pulled the unwilling girl to the -lounge and gently pushed her down upon it. “I am -so, so sorry, Kitty. Your aunt—” she stumbled a -bit in her speech—“Your aunt’s death is a great -shock—”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> - -<p>“To me,” bitterly. “I know many people disliked -her. Poor Aunt Susan—” Kitty’s lips trembled. -“You need not try to dissemble your feelings, Ben. -I know you hated Susan.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, come, Kitty; that’s pretty strong language!” -Potter flushed angrily. “You are unstrung—where -are your smelling salts, Nina?”</p> - -<p>“A glass of wine would be better.” Rodgers -spoke for the first time, and Kitty looked up in -startled surprise. She had been conscious of a third -person in the room when she first entered, but, absorbed -in her talk with her cousin, had forgotten his -presence.</p> - -<p>“Where’s my flask?” demanded Potter, considerably -shaken out of his habitual calm. “Oh, thank -you, my dear,” as Nina snatched it out of one of his -desk drawers. “Now, Kitty,” unscrewing the stopper -and pouring some cognac into an empty tumbler, -which, with a water carafe, stood on his desk. -“Drink this; no, I insist—” as she put up her hand -in protest. “You will need all your strength—drink -every drop.”</p> - -<p>Kitty’s eyes sought Rodgers and his quick -“Please do” did more to make her drink the cognac -than all Potter’s urging. The fiery strength of the -old brandy made her catch her breath, but she did -not put the tumbler down until she had swallowed -its contents. As the stimulant crept through her -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>veins, her head cleared, and the feeling of deadly -faintness which had threatened to overcome her -several times on her way to her cousin’s apartment, -disappeared.</p> - -<p>“I will tell you what I know,” she began. “Aunt -Susan was found by the police dead in our library. -The coroner claims that she had taken poison.”</p> - -<p>“Well?” prompted Potter. “Go on.”</p> - -<p>“Aunt Susan never swallowed poison—of her own -free will.” Kitty turned and gazed at Ted Rodgers. -Intently she studied his face, noting his clear-cut -features and shapely head. Standing six feet four, -he seemed to dwarf Ben Potter. Although the latter -was nearly his equal in height, the stoop in his -shoulders, which betrayed the hours spent in poring -over books, made Potter appear much shorter. -Something of his quiet, determined character showed -in Rodgers’ firm mouth and handsome eyes, eyes -which redeemed the severe lines of his face.</p> - -<p>He had fallen madly in love with Kitty and had -courted her with the persistency of his faithful nature. -Heartsick, craving sympathy, which had -brought her to her cousin only to be rebuffed by his -reception of the news of her aunt’s death, Kitty -turned instinctively to Rodgers.</p> - -<p>“Won’t you help me prove that Aunt Susan did -not commit suicide?” she asked.</p> - -<p>As he studied the upturned face, the deep blue -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>eyes, made more brilliant by the tears she had shed -that morning, and noted the forlorn droop of her -shoulders, Rodgers’ decision was taken.</p> - -<p>“I will do anything for you—anything,” he -promised, his deep voice vibrating with feeling.</p> - -<p>“Then find the murderer of Aunt Susan,” she -cried.</p> - -<p>“How—what?” Potter looked at her aghast. -“What makes <i>you</i> think Cousin Susan was murdered?”</p> - -<p>“My intuition,” promptly. “Oh, you may jeer, -but it was no case of suicide. Aunt Susan did not -court death—she feared it.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V<br /> -AT THE MORGUE</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">C</span><span class="smcap">oroner Penfield</span> adjusted his glasses -and gazed at the six men who composed -the jury, as they filed into their places, and -then turned to look at the spectators assembled in -the room reserved for the coroner’s inquests at the -District of Columbia Morgue. Not only Washington -society was taking a deep interest in the inquiry -into the death of Miss Susan Baird, but many other -citizens of the national Capital, to whom the name of -Baird meant nothing, and who had been unacquainted -with the spinster in her lifetime. Every -seat was taken in the large square room, and from -his position on the elevated platform, where stood -tables and chairs for the coroner, his assistant, the -reporters, and the witnesses, Coroner Penfield saw -Dr. Leonard McLean conversing with Inspector -Mitchell of the Central Office.</p> - -<p>The hands of the wall clock were within five minutes -of ten, the hour at which the inquest had been -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>called, on Tuesday morning, when the outer door -opened and Ted Rodgers stepped inside the room, -followed a second later by Benjamin Potter. Observing -two unoccupied seats on the second row they -crossed the room, exchanging, as they did so, low-spoken -greetings with friends and acquaintances who -had come early to secure the most advantageous -seats.</p> - -<p>The swearing in of the jury by the Morgue Master -required but a short time. Clearing his throat, -Coroner Penfield outlined the reason for the inquest, -and asked the jury if they had inspected the body of -the dead woman.</p> - -<p>“We have,” responded the foreman, and Penfield -turned to the Morgue Master, who occupied a chair -at the foot of the platform.</p> - -<p>“Call the first witness,” he directed. “Inspector -Mitchell.”</p> - -<p>Hat in hand, the Inspector advanced to the steps -and mounted to the witness chair, and was duly -sworn by the Morgue Master. In businesslike tones -he answered the coroner’s quickly put questions as -to his identity and length of service on the Metropolitan -Police Force and Detective Bureau.</p> - -<p>“Did you find Miss Baird’s body?” asked the -coroner.</p> - -<p>“I did, Sir.”</p> - -<p>“When?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yesterday, Monday morning, when summoned -to her home in Georgetown.”</p> - -<p>“How did the summons reach you?”</p> - -<p>“By telephone.” Mitchell hesitated, and the coroner -waited for him to continue before putting another -question. “The message was to go at once to -‘Rose Hill,’ that a crime had been committed there.”</p> - -<p>“Did the person talking on the telephone give his -name?”</p> - -<p>“No, Sir.”</p> - -<p>“Did you ask his name?”</p> - -<p>“I did, but she rang off instead of answering.”</p> - -<p>“She?” inquiringly.</p> - -<p>“I took the voice to be that of a woman,” explained -Mitchell cautiously.</p> - -<p>“Are you not certain that it was a woman speaking?”</p> - -<p>“To the best of my belief it was.” Mitchell -paused. “I am sure it was a woman’s voice.”</p> - -<p>“Have you tried to trace the call?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” somewhat glumly. “But Central had no -record of it.”</p> - -<p>“Then it did not come over a public telephone?”</p> - -<p>“No, Sir.”</p> - -<p>“Was it on a limited service wire?”</p> - -<p>“No. Central declares not,” responded Mitchell. -“She insists that it must have been sent by some one -using unlimited service.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p> - -<p>Penfield paused to jot down a note on his memorandum -pad before again questioning the inspector.</p> - -<p>“At what hour did the telephone call reach you?”</p> - -<p>“At eight minutes past eight o’clock yesterday -morning. I was in Police Headquarters and took -the message myself,” tersely.</p> - -<p>“At what hour did you reach Miss Baird’s home?”</p> - -<p>“Fifteen minutes later. I took O’Bryan, a plain -clothes man, and Patrolman Myers with me.”</p> - -<p>“Tell us what you found when you reached the -Baird house,” Coroner Penfield directed, settling -back in his chair. Conscious that he had the undivided -attention of every one in the crowded room, -Mitchell spoke with slow impressiveness.</p> - -<p>“We went up the front steps of the house and -rang the bell; not getting any response we rang -several times. I was just thinking that we had better -try the back entrance when O’Bryan saw the key -in the front door—”</p> - -<p>“Wait.” Penfield held up his hand. “Do I understand -that the key to the front door was left in -the lock on the <i>outside</i> in plain view of every passer-by?”</p> - -<p>“It wasn’t exactly in plain view,” protested Mitchell. -“We didn’t see it at once, and the sidewalk is -some distance from the house, which stands on a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>high terrace. Passers-by could not see the key in -the lock unless they ran up the steps and stood in -the vestibule of the front door.”</p> - -<p>“Was the door locked?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Sir.”</p> - -<p>“Was it a spring lock?”</p> - -<p>“No, Sir.” Mitchell drew an old-fashioned brass -key from his pocket and handed it to the coroner. -“That lock, Sir, was made by hand many years ago. -It’s the kind that if you lock the door, either from -the inside or the outside, the door could not be -opened unless you had the key to unlock it.”</p> - -<p>“Then, Inspector, some person, on leaving the -Baird house, locked the door on the outside, and -thereby locked in any person or persons who might -have been in the house at that time?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Sir.”</p> - -<p>“Ump!” Penfield picked up the brass key and -handed it to the foreman of the jury. “Did you -find finger marks on the key?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“No, not one.” Mitchell hesitated. “Whoever -handled the key wore gloves.”</p> - -<p>“Very likely.” Penfield spoke more briskly. -“What did you discover inside the house, Inspector?”</p> - -<p>“We found no one in the hall; so we walked into -the parlor which is on the right of the front door. -No one was there, so we kept on through the door -opening into the rear hall, and from there walked -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>into the library.” Mitchell paused dramatically. -“There we found Miss Baird’s dead body lying -huddled up in a big chair in front of her tea table.”</p> - -<p>“Had she been taking tea?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, judging from the plate of sandwiches and -cakes, and her nearly empty teacup.” Mitchell explained -in detail. “There was a plate in front of her -on which lay a half-eaten peach.”</p> - -<p>“Was there evidence to show that some one had -been having tea with Miss Baird?” inquired Penfield.</p> - -<p>“Only one cup and saucer and plate had been -used, Sir.”</p> - -<p>“And the chairs, how were they placed?”</p> - -<p>“About as usual, I imagine.” Mitchell looked a -trifle worried. “There was no chair drawn up to -the tea table, if you mean that. Only Miss Baird’s -chair stood close by it.”</p> - -<p>“What did you do upon the discovery of Miss -Baird’s body?” asked Penfield, after a pause.</p> - -<p>“Made sure that she was dead and not in need of -a physician, then sent O’Bryan to telephone to the -coroner, while Myers and I searched the house,” replied -Mitchell.</p> - -<p>“Did you find any one in the house?”</p> - -<p>“No, Sir. It was empty, except for the dead -woman and a cat.”</p> - -<p>The inspector’s reply caused a stir of interest, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>and one juror started to address him, then, conscious -of attracting attention, decided not to speak.</p> - -<p>“Did you find the windows and doors locked?” -inquired Penfield, after a second’s thought.</p> - -<p>“Yes; that is, those on the first floor and in the -basement were locked,” explained Mitchell. “The -windows on the second and third floors were unlocked, -but closed. Sunday was a cold day,” he -added.</p> - -<p>“In your opinion, Mitchell, could the house have -been entered from the second story?” asked Penfield.</p> - -<p>The inspector considered the question before answering. -“No, Sir, not without a ladder, and we -found none on the premises. The house sets back -in its own grounds, so to speak, and the neighboring -houses are quite far away. There is no party wall, -and no porch roof to aid a housebreaker.”</p> - -<p>“That is all for the present, Inspector. As you -go out, ask O’Bryan to come here.”</p> - -<p>The plain clothes officer kept them waiting only -a brief second. His testimony simply corroborated -that of his superior officer, and Patrolman Myers, -who followed him, added nothing of interest. Upon -his departure from the platform, his place was taken -by an old negro, who, with some difficulty, mounted -the steps and hobbled across the platform to the -witness chair.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> - -<p>“What is your name?” asked Coroner Penfield, -who had waited in some impatience while the witness -was being sworn.</p> - -<p>“Oscar, Sah, please, Sah.”</p> - -<p>“Oscar what?”</p> - -<p>“Oscar Benjamin De Cassenove Jackson, Sah.”</p> - -<p>“Well, Oscar, are you acquainted with the nature -of an oath?”</p> - -<p>“Laws, Sah, ain’t I been married mos’ forty -years? My wife, she’s kinda handy wif her tongue,” -and Oscar smiled, deprecatingly.</p> - -<p>“I am not alluding to swearing,” exclaimed Penfield. -“I mean the sort of oath requiring you to tell -the truth and nothing but the truth.”</p> - -<p>“Laws, Sah, I tells de truf every day o’ my life,” -replied Oscar with some indignation. “’Tain’t no -occasion to tell me that.”</p> - -<p>“Very well.” Penfield spoke with sternness. “Remember, -you are under oath to tell only the truth. -When did you last see Miss Susan Baird alive?”</p> - -<p>Oscar blinked at the abruptness of the question. -“Sunday mawning, Sah, when I was servin’ dinner -at one o’clock.”</p> - -<p>“Did she appear to be in good spirits?” asked -Penfield. “In good health—” he added, noting -Oscar’s mystified expression.</p> - -<p>“Yessir. She ate real hearty, and when I went -in de lib’ry after dinner, she was jes’ as peaceful an’ -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>ca’m, a-sittin’ in that great easy chair o’ hers as if -she never had had no words with Miss Kitty.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, so Miss Baird had words with Miss Kitty—and -who might Miss Kitty be?”</p> - -<p>A startled look flitted across Ted Rodgers’ face, -to be gone the next instant. He had followed the -testimony of each witness with undivided attention, -answering only in monosyllables the muttered remarks -made to him occasionally by Ben Potter, -whose expression of boredom had given place to -more lively interest at sight of Oscar on his way -to the witness chair.</p> - -<p>“Who am Miss Kitty?” asked Oscar in scandalized -surprise. “Why, Miss Baird’s niece. They -live together, leastwise they did ’till yesterday. Poor -ole Miss, she didn’t mean no harm—”</p> - -<p>“No harm to whom?” questioned Penfield swiftly.</p> - -<p>“To Miss Kitty. She jes’ said she wouldn’t have -no such carrying-on,” explained Oscar.</p> - -<p>“To what did she refer?”</p> - -<p>Oscar favored the coroner with a blank stare. “I -dunno, Sah. That’s all o’ de conversation that I -overheard.”</p> - -<p>Penfield regarded him attentively, but the old -man’s gaze did not waver, and after a moment he -resumed his examination.</p> - -<p>“How long have you worked for Miss Baird?”</p> - -<p>“’Most twenty years, Sah.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> - -<p>“And what did you do for her?”</p> - -<p>“I cooked, waited on de table, tended de fires and -de garden, cleaned de house, an’ run errands,” -ended Oscar with a flourish, and Penfield had difficulty -in suppressing a smile. Oscar’s rheumatic -legs did not suggest an agile errand boy.</p> - -<p>“Who were the other servants?”</p> - -<p>“Weren’t none,” tersely. “Miss Baird, she -wouldn’t keep no yeller help, so Mandy, my wife, -washed de clothes, an’ I done de rest.”</p> - -<p>“Did you and Mandy sleep in Miss Baird’s -house?”</p> - -<p>“No, Sah. We lives in our own house, two blocks -away.”</p> - -<p>“What were your working hours?”</p> - -<p>“Hey?” Oscar stroked his wooly head reflectively. -“’Most all day,” he volunteered finally. -“Mandy had one o’ her spells yesterday mawnin’ an’ -I had ter get a doctah fo’ her, an’ that’s why I never -reached Miss Baird’s ’til ’bout noon.”</p> - -<p>“I see.” Penfield sat back in his chair and fumbled -with his watch charm. Oscar as a witness was -a disappointment, whatever his accomplishments as -an all-round servant. “At what hour did you leave -Miss Baird’s on Sunday?”</p> - -<p>“’Bout half-past two,” answered Oscar, after due -thought.</p> - -<p>“And whom did you leave in the house?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Miss Baird and her niece, Miss Kitty.”</p> - -<p>“No one else—no visitor?”</p> - -<p>“No, Sah.”</p> - -<p>“Think again, Oscar. Remember, you are under -oath. Did either Miss Baird or Miss Kitty Baird -have callers before you left on Sunday afternoon?”</p> - -<p>“No, Sah, they did not, not while I was there.”</p> - -<p>Penfield pushed back his chair and rose. “That -will do, Oscar, you are excused. Hume,” to the -Morgue Master. “Call Miss Katrina Baird.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI<br /> -TESTIMONY</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">T</span><span class="smcap">here</span> was craning of necks and bending -of heads as the Morgue Master opened the -door leading to the room where the witnesses -waited to be called, and every eye was focussed -on Kitty Baird as she stepped into the court -room.</p> - -<p>“Don’t look so startled, Kitty,” whispered Dr. -Leonard McLean in her ear. He had retained his -seat by the door, expecting to leave at any moment. -“This inquest is only a legal formality.”</p> - -<p>“But these people—the publicity,” she faltered.</p> - -<p>“Move on, Miss, move on,” directed Hume, the -Morgue Master. “You can’t talk to the witnesses, -Doctor. This way, Miss,” and interposing his thickset, -stocky figure between Leonard and Kitty, he -followed her to the platform and administered the -oath: “To tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing -but the truth.”</p> - -<p>Kitty sat down in the witness chair with a feeling -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>of thankfulness. The space between it and the door -through which she had entered had seemed an endless -distance as she traversed it. Coroner Penfield -swung his chair around so as to obtain a better view -of her.</p> - -<p>“Your full name?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Katrina Baird.” Her low voice barely reached -the jurors, and Penfield smiled at her encouragingly.</p> - -<p>“Please speak louder,” he suggested. “Were you -related to Miss Susan Baird?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; she was my aunt,” Kitty’s voice gained in -strength as her confidence returned. “My father, -Judge George Baird, was her only brother.”</p> - -<p>“You made your home in Georgetown with your -aunt?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, ever since the death of my parents.”</p> - -<p>“And who else resided with your aunt?”</p> - -<p>“No one.”</p> - -<p>“No servants?”</p> - -<p>“No. Our only servant, Oscar, never slept in the -house.”</p> - -<p>“Did your aunt ever employ another servant?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“No chambermaid?”</p> - -<p>“No.” Kitty’s flush was becoming to her, the -coroner decided. The added color brought out the -blue of her eyes and softened the haggard lines -which had come overnight. “My aunt could not af<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>ford -to employ two servants, so we looked after the -house, Oscar doing the heavy work. He was always -faithful and kind.”</p> - -<p>“And devoted to your aunt?” with a quick look -at her.</p> - -<p>“Yes, certainly,” she responded, calmly.</p> - -<p>There was a brief pause before Penfield again -addressed her, and Kitty, her first nervous dread of -facing the crowded court room a thing of the past, -allowed her gaze to wander about the room. It was -with a sharp stab of pain that she recognized more -than one familiar face among the spectators. Could -it be that men and women whom her aunt had -counted among her friends and whom she had entertained -in her limited way had come to the inquest -from curiosity? Kitty shivered, the idea shocked -her.</p> - -<p>“Did you spend last Sunday at home, Miss -Baird?” asked Penfield.</p> - -<p>“No, not the entire day,” she replied. “I left there -about three o’clock in the afternoon to go to my -cousin, Mrs. Benjamin Potter, at whose apartment -I was to spend the night.”</p> - -<p>“Was it your custom to leave your aunt alone in -the house at night?”</p> - -<p>“Not a custom, certainly; but I did occasionally -stay overnight with friends or with my cousins, Mr. -and Mrs. Potter, in Washington,” Kitty explained. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>“Aunt Susan was never afraid of being left alone -in the house. And, of course, I was at my work all -through the day.”</p> - -<p>“And what is your work, Miss Baird?”</p> - -<p>“I am employed as a social secretary by Mrs. Amos -Parsons,” she replied, concisely. “I am with her -from nine in the morning until four in the afternoon.”</p> - -<p>“Only on week days?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. I have Sunday to myself.”</p> - -<p>“And how did you spend last Sunday, Miss -Baird?”</p> - -<p>“I went to church in the morning.”</p> - -<p>“Alone?”</p> - -<p>“No. Major Leigh Wallace accompanied me.”</p> - -<p>“Did Major Wallace return to your house with -you?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>The curtly spoken monosyllable brought a sharp -glance from the coroner, of which she appeared unaware.</p> - -<p>“At what hour did you reach your house, Miss -Baird?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“After church—” she considered a moment. “To -be exact, about a quarter of one.”</p> - -<p>“Did you and your aunt lunch alone?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. We had no guests,” briefly.</p> - -<p>“And what did you do after luncheon?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> - -<p>“It wasn’t luncheon, it was dinner,” she explained. -“I went upstairs almost immediately after -it was served, and changed my dress preparatory to -going out.”</p> - -<p>“When did you last see your aunt alive?” asked -Penfield.</p> - -<p>“As I was leaving the house,” Kitty spoke more -hurriedly, “I looked into her bedroom and called out -‘Good-by!’”</p> - -<p>“Miss Baird,” Penfield let his eyeglasses dangle -from their ribbon and stood up. “Was your aunt -expecting guests at tea on Sunday afternoon?”</p> - -<p>“I am sure she was not,” she replied. “Aunt -Susan always asked me to arrange the tea table if -she had invited any of her friends to come and see -her. She was, eh, formal and insisted that her -guests be given tea when they called.”</p> - -<p>“Was it your aunt’s custom to drink tea every -afternoon whether she had guests or not?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes. She had a spirit lamp and a tea caddy -in the library, and made tea for herself,” Kitty responded. -“But if any friends were coming she insisted -always that the table be especially arranged—sandwiches—and -all that,” a trifle vaguely. Kitty -was growing tired of answering questions which appeared -to lead nowhere.</p> - -<p>Coroner Penfield picked up several sheets of pa<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>per -and thumbed them over until he came to a penciled -memorandum.</p> - -<p>“There were two sandwiches and some peaches -on the tea table in front of your aunt,” he remarked. -“Who prepared those sandwiches?”</p> - -<p>For the second time Kitty colored hotly. “The -sandwiches were left over from some I made on -Saturday when Aunt Susan entertained Mrs. Amos -Parsons at tea.”</p> - -<p>“And the peaches—” questioned Penfield.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know where Aunt Susan got the -peaches,” she said, with a quick shrug of her shoulders. -“Probably Oscar brought them to her on -Sunday morning when I was out. He knew her fondness -for them.”</p> - -<p>“Did you not always know what supplies you had -in your larder?”</p> - -<p>“Why, no.” With a lift of her eyebrows. “Oscar -did the marketing.”</p> - -<p>Penfield laid down the papers in his hand. “Was -your aunt in her normal health on Sunday?” he -asked.</p> - -<p>“Apparently so; I never observed any change in -her.”</p> - -<p>“Had she complained of illness recently?”</p> - -<p>“No. On the contrary, she seemed brighter and -more cheerful during the past ten days,” Kitty answered.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Was she ever despondent?”</p> - -<p>“No,” promptly. “She always looked on the -bright side of things. I—” with a fleeting smile—“I -was the pessimist of the family.”</p> - -<p>“I see.” Coroner Penfield regarded her thoughtfully. -She looked barely out of her ‘teens,’ and hers -was certainly not the face of a pessimist—youth, -good health, and good looks did not conspire to a -gloomy outlook on life. “Who were your aunt’s -intimate friends?”</p> - -<p>“Do you mean women of her own age?”</p> - -<p>“Yes; of her age, and also of yours.”</p> - -<p>Kitty debated the question thoughtfully before -answering it. “Not many of Aunt Susan’s old -friends are alive,” she said. “Aunty had just passed -her seventieth birthday. She liked all my friends.”</p> - -<p>“<i>All?</i>”</p> - -<p>“Yes.” Kitty regarded him steadfastly. She had -noted the emphasis on the word “all.” A moment -passed before the coroner addressed her again.</p> - -<p>“Miss Baird, have you unlimited telephone service?”</p> - -<p>“Why, yes.” Kitty’s tone expressed surprise. -“We have always had unlimited service.”</p> - -<p>Penfield paused and wrote a few lines on his memorandum -pad. When he spoke, his voice had gained -an added seriousness.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Were you and your aunt always on the best of -terms?” he asked.</p> - -<p>Kitty sat erect and her hands dropped on the arms -of her chair.</p> - -<p>“Your question is impertinent,” she said cuttingly, -and, in spite of himself, Penfield flushed.</p> - -<p>“I insist upon an answer,” he retorted. “A truthful -answer.”</p> - -<p>“Dr. Penfield!” Kitty rose.</p> - -<p>“Be seated, Madam. A witness cannot leave until -dismissed by the coroner.” Penfield spoke with -unwonted severity. “I will change my question. -What did you and Miss Baird quarrel about on -Sunday?”</p> - -<p>“Quarrel?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Madam, quarrel. Your servant, Oscar, -overheard you.”</p> - -<p>Kitty’s bright color had flown. With eyes expressing -her scorn, she threw back her head defiantly.</p> - -<p>“Ask Oscar,” she suggested. “Servants’ gossip -may prove diverting—whether truthful or not.”</p> - -<p>Penfield watched her for an intolerable moment. -Kitty’s breath was coming unevenly when he finally -spoke.</p> - -<p>“You are excused, Miss Baird,” he stated briefly, -and turned to the Morgue Master. “Summon Mrs. -Benjamin Potter, Hume,” he directed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> - -<p>Kitty’s sudden dismissal by the coroner was a -shock to the reporters as well as to the spectators, -and they watched her leave the room with undisguised -curiosity and disappointment. Were they -to be cheated out of a sensational scene? Why had -not Coroner Penfield pressed home his question?</p> - -<p>Nina Potter’s entrance cut short speculation and -the reporters watched her take her place in the witness -chair with renewed hope. Her self-possessed -air was a surprise to Ted Rodgers, who secretly considered -her a bundle of nerves. She looked extremely -pretty and Coroner Penfield watched her -admiringly as the oath was being administered. -From his seat on the second row, Ben Potter leaned -against Rodgers, regardless of the latter’s discomfort, -in his endeavor to get an uninterrupted view -of his wife.</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Potter,” Coroner Penfield had again resumed -his seat. “What relation are you to Miss -Katrina Baird?”</p> - -<p>“No relation, except by marriage.” Her voice, -though low, held a carrying quality, and reached the -ears of all in the room. “My husband is her second -cousin.”</p> - -<p>“Have you known her long?”</p> - -<p>“Since my marriage to her cousin, six months -ago,” briefly.</p> - -<p>“Did you know her aunt, Miss Susan Baird?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oh, yes, very well. We frequently took Sunday -dinner with them.”</p> - -<p>“Did you ever hear Miss Susan Baird express a -dislike for any particular person?”</p> - -<p>Nina shook her head, while a faint smile drew -down the corners of her pretty mouth. “Miss Susan -disliked a great many people,” she said. “Me, among -them. In fact, I never heard her make a complimentary -remark about any one.”</p> - -<p>Penfield looked taken aback. “Miss Baird was eccentric, -was she not?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, not to say odd.”</p> - -<p>“Exactly what do you mean?”</p> - -<p>Nina raised her eyebrows and pursed up her -mouth before answering.</p> - -<p>“If Miss Baird was calling upon friends and -liked the tea cakes, she would open her bag and pour -the cakes into it,” she explained. “If she was shopping -downtown and grew weary, she would look -about and if she saw a motor car belonging to any -of her friends waiting at the curb, she would inform -the chauffeur he was to take her home. -And—” Mrs. Potter’s smile was most engaging, -“Miss Baird always got her own way.”</p> - -<p>“Until her death—” dryly. “It looked as if some -one balked her there.”</p> - -<p>“Yes—and who was that some one?” questioned -Mrs. Potter sweetly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> - -<p>Coroner Penfield concealed his annoyance under -a pretense of hunting for a pencil among the papers -on his table. While listening intently to the dialogue -between Penfield and Mrs. Potter, Ted Rodgers had -grown aware that Ben Potter was gnawing his nails. -Rodgers loathed small noises. He was about to remonstrate -when Potter leaned back and whispered in his -ear:</p> - -<p>“I always told you Nina was clever; bless her -heart!”</p> - -<p>Rodgers attempted no reply as he waited for -Coroner Penfield’s next question.</p> - -<p>“Did Miss Kitty Baird spend Sunday night at -your apartment, Mrs. Potter?” asked Penfield.</p> - -<p>“She did,” with quiet emphasis. “She came -in time to help me serve tea in my husband’s studio, -stayed to dinner, and retired early. We had breakfast -at nine o’clock, after which she returned to -Georgetown.”</p> - -<p>“That is all, Mrs. Potter, thank you,” and Penfield -assisted her down the steps, then turned aside -to speak to Hume. “Recall Oscar Jackson,” he -said.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Potter had almost reached the door when it -opened to admit Major Leigh Wallace. He failed -to see her in his hurry to secure a seat vacated by -an elderly woman who was just leaving and brushed -by without greeting. Nina’s pretty color had van<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>ished -when she reached her motor parked near the -Morgue. She did not start the engine, however, -upon entering the car but sat waiting with untiring -patience for the inquest to adjourn.</p> - -<p>Nina’s exit from the court room had been closely -watched by two pairs of eyes. When Rodgers turned -to speak to Potter, he found him sitting well back -in his chair, and his whole attention centered on -Major Leigh Wallace. The latter, entirely oblivious -of the identity of the men and women about him, -sat regarding the coroner and the jury while his -restless fingers rolled a swagger stick held upright -between the palms of his hands.</p> - -<p>Coroner Penfield hardly allowed the old negro -servant time to take his seat again in the witness -chair, before addressing him.</p> - -<p>“What were Miss Baird and her niece, Miss Kitty, -quarreling about on Sunday?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“W-w-what yo’ ax?” Oscar’s breath, such as he -had left after his exertions in reaching the platform, -deserted him, and he stared in dumb surprise at the -coroner.</p> - -<p>“You have testified that you overheard Miss Baird -and her niece quarreling,” Penfield spoke slowly and -with emphasis. “What were they quarreling about? -Come,” as the old man remained silent. “We are -awaiting your answer.”</p> - -<p>“Yessir.” Oscar ducked his head, and the whites -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>of his eyes showed plainly as he rolled them in -fright, first toward the jury and then toward the -coroner. “Yessir, ’twarn’t much of a fuss; leastways, -it might o’ been wuss, but Miss Kitty, she -done jes’ walk upstairs.”</p> - -<p>“What was it about?” insisted Penfield.</p> - -<p>“Well ’er,” Oscar fingered his worn cap nervously. -“Miss Susan, she didn’t think much of some -of Miss Kitty’s beaux—jes’ didn’t want her to get -married nohow—’specially that there Major Wallace. -An’ she ups an’ tells Miss Kitty she mus’ get rid o’ -him, or she would—”</p> - -<p>“Would what—?”</p> - -<p>“Git rid o’ him,” explained Oscar. “Miss Susan -jes’ despised him, even if he did lay himself out to -please her.”</p> - -<p>“Was Major Wallace there on Sunday?” inquired -the coroner.</p> - -<p>“No, Sah.” With vigorous emphasis. “The -Major ain’t been there for mos’ two weeks. Miss -Susan and him had words.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, indeed. When?”</p> - -<p>“’Bout two weeks ago, p’r’aps longer. Major -Wallace kep’ callin’, an’ Miss Susan up an’ tole him -Miss Kitty couldn’t be bothered with his company.” -Oscar came to a breathless pause. He had caught -sight of a man leaving his seat and recognized -Major Leigh Wallace. The next second the door -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>had opened and closed behind Wallace’s retreating -figure.</p> - -<p>Penfield’s stern voice recalled Oscar’s wandering -wits.</p> - -<p>“Did you do the marketing on Saturday, Oscar?” -he asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, Sah.” Oscar spoke more cheerfully at the -change of the topic.</p> - -<p>“Did you buy some peaches for Miss Baird?”</p> - -<p>“Deed, I didn’t, Sah. Miss Susan hadn’t no -money to buy peaches at dis time o’ year,” Oscar’s -voice expressed astonishment. “Dis hyar month -am March.”</p> - -<p>“We have them from California.” Penfield was -growing impatient, and his manner stiffened as he -faced the old negro. “Who purchased the peaches -which Miss Baird was eating just before she died?”</p> - -<p>“I dunno, Sah; honest to God, I dunno.” Oscar -shook a puzzled head. “I was flabbergasted to see -them peaches on the tea table. They weren’t in the -house when I was gettin’ dinner, an’ they weren’t -there when I left after servin’ dinner.”</p> - -<p>“Is that so?” Penfield stared at Oscar. The -black face of the negro was as shiny as a billiard -ball and about as expressionless. “That is all, Oscar, -you may retire.”</p> - -<p>Hardly waiting for the servant to descend the -steps, Penfield turned to the deputy coroner whose -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>busy pen had been transcribing the notes of the inquest.</p> - -<p>“Dr. Fisher, take the stand,” he directed, and -waited in silence while he was being sworn.</p> - -<p>“You performed the autopsy, Doctor?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“I did, Sir, in the presence of the Morgue Master -and Dr. Leonard McLean,” responded the deputy -coroner.</p> - -<p>“State the results of the autopsy.”</p> - -<p>“We found on investigation of the gastric contents -that death was due to prussic acid, the most -active of poisons,” Fisher replied, with blunt directness. -“There was no other cause of death, as from -the condition of her body, we found Miss Baird, in -spite of her age, did not suffer from any organic disease.”</p> - -<p>The silence lengthened in the court room. Penfield -did not seem in haste to put the next question -and the suspense deepened.</p> - -<p>“Can you estimate how long a time must have -elapsed between Miss Baird taking the poison and -her death?” he asked finally.</p> - -<p>“Between two and five minutes, judging from the -amount of poison in her system,” responded Fisher.</p> - -<p>“Can you tell us how the poison was administered, -Doctor?” questioned Penfield. “Did you analyze -the contents of the tea pot and cup?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. No trace of poison was in either the cup -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>or the teapot.” Fisher spoke with deliberation, -conscious that his words were listened to with breathless -interest. “There was on her plate a half-eaten -peach on which still remained enough poison to kill -several persons.”</p> - -<p>Penfield broke the tense pause.</p> - -<p>“Have you any idea, Doctor, how the poison got -on the peach?”</p> - -<p>“On examination we found that drops of prussic -acid still remained on the fruit knife used to cut the -peach.” Fisher hesitated a brief instant, then continued, -“The poison had been put on one side of the -knife-blade only.”</p> - -<p>“You mean—”</p> - -<p>“That whoever ate the other portion of the peach -was not poisoned.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII<br /> -MRS. PARSONS HAS CALLERS</h2></div> - -<p class="center">CORONER’S INQUEST RETURNS<br /> -OPEN VERDICT<br /> -<br /> -Miss Susan Baird Killed by Party or<br /> -Parties Unknown</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">M</span><span class="smcap">rs. Amos Parsons</span> laid down her -evening newspaper and stared at her own -reflection in the upright, silver-framed -mirror standing on the table by her side. So absorbing -were her thoughts that she did not observe -a velvet-footed servant remove the tea tray and carry -off the soiled cups and saucers. The French clock -on the high mantel of the drawing room had ticked -away fully ten minutes before she stirred. With an -indolent gesture of her hands, eminently characteristic, -she dropped them in her lap and let her body -relax against the tufted chair back. Her mirror -told her that she needed rest; the deep shadows under -her eyes and her unusual pallor both emphasized -the same story. She was very, very weary.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Beg pardon, Madam.” The velvet-footed butler -was back in the room again, silver salver in hand. -“A gentleman to see you.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons picked up the small visiting card -and adjusting her lorgnette, inspected the engraved -lettering it bore.</p> - -<p class="center no-indent">MR. BENJAMIN POTTER<br /><br /> -Cosmos Club</p> - -<p>“Where is Mr. Potter?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“In the reception room downstairs, madam. He -said he was in a great hurry, Madam,” as she remained -silent. “He asked particularly to see you.”</p> - -<p>“Very well; show him up. Wait—” as the -servant started for the doorway. “Bring Mr. Potter -upstairs in the lift.”</p> - -<p>“Very good, Madam,” and, a second later, Mrs. -Parsons was alone in her drawing room.</p> - -<p>Leaning forward, she looked about the beautifully -furnished room, then, convinced that she was -its only occupant, she opened her vanity case and -selecting a lip-stick, applied it, and added a touch of -rouge. Lastly a powder-puff removed all outward -traces of restless hours and weary waiting. She -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>had just time to slip the puff and lip-stick inside her -vanity box before the portières parted and Ben -Potter hastened into the room. He stopped his -rapid stride on catching sight of her and advanced -more leisurely.</p> - -<p>“Good evening, Cecilia,” he said, and paused in -front of her.</p> - -<p>She appeared not to see his half-extended hand, -as she laid down her cigarette.</p> - -<p>“Ah, Ben,” she remarked dryly. “I see that you -still believe in the efficacy of a bribe.”</p> - -<p>“If it is big enough,” composedly. “Your servant -said you had denied yourself to callers so—<i>voilà -tout</i>.”</p> - -<p>“And why this desire to see me?”</p> - -<p>Potter did not reply at once; instead, he scrutinized -her intently. She was well worth a second -glance. Her type of face belonged to the Eighteenth -Century, and as she sat in her high-backed chair, -her prematurely grey hair, artistically arranged, in -pretty contrast to her delicately arched eyebrows, -she resembled a French marquise of the court of -Louis XIV. She bore Potter’s penetrating gaze -with undisturbed composure. He was the first to -shift his glance.</p> - -<p>“Suppose I take a chair and we talk things over,” -he suggested. “You are not very cordial-to-night.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons smiled ironically. “Take a chair -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span>by all means; that one by the door looks substantial. -Now,” as he dragged it over and placed it directly -in front of her. “I will repeat my question—why -do you wish to see me?”</p> - -<p>“You ask that—and a newspaper by your side!” -Potter pointed contemptuously at the paper lying on -the floor. “Have you seen Kitty Baird since the -inquest?”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons shook her head. “There was hardly -time for her to get here; besides she must be very -weary, not to say—unstrung.” She held out her -cigarette case, but Potter waved it away, making no -effort politely to restrain his impatience. “So dear -Miss Susan Baird was poisoned after all.”</p> - -<p>“And why ‘after all’?” swiftly. “Why ‘<i>dear</i> Miss -Susan’?”</p> - -<p>A shrug of her shapely shoulders answered him. -“You are always so intense, Ben,” she remarked. -“Why <i>not</i> ‘dear Miss Susan’? Had you any reason -to dislike your cousin?”</p> - -<p>“Had any one any reason to like her?” he asked -gruffly. “You don’t need to be told that.” His -smile had little mirth in it. “The poor soul is dead—murdered.” -He looked at her queerly. “How much -does Kitty see of Major Leigh Wallace?”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons selected another cigarette with care. -“So that is the reason I am honored by a visit from -you.” Tossing back her head, she inspected him -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>from head to foot. “How am I qualified to answer -your question? I am not Kitty’s guardian.”</p> - -<p>“No, but you are her employer,” with quiet emphasis. -“And Major Wallace is a frequent caller -here.”</p> - -<p>“Is he?” Her smile was enigmatical. “May I ask -the reason of your sudden interest in Major Wallace?”</p> - -<p>Potter colored hotly. “That is my affair,” he -retorted. “Were you at the Baird inquest this morning?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“Have you read the newspaper account of it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“And what is your opinion?”</p> - -<p>She shook her head. “I have formed none.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, come!” Potter smiled skeptically, then -frowned. “Kitty must be safeguarded,” he announced -with gruff abruptness.</p> - -<p>“From Major Wallace?—”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps—”</p> - -<p>She considered him a moment in silence. Potter’s -big frame did not show to best advantage in his -sack suit which betrayed the need of sponging and -pressing. The naturalist seldom gave a thought to -his personal appearance.</p> - -<p>“How is your wife?” she asked.</p> - -<p>Potter started a trifle at the abrupt question.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Quite well,” he replied. “But a bit fagged after -the inquest. She was one of the witnesses, you -know.”</p> - -<p>“And you—”</p> - -<p>“I was not called by the coroner,” shortly. “Ted -Rodgers and I sat together in the court room. He’s -a good chap, Ted—promised Kitty to help trace her -aunt’s murderer.”</p> - -<p>The pupils of Mrs. Parsons’ eyes contracted. “I -did not realize that they were on such terms of intimacy,” -she remarked, and her voice had grown -sharper. “Do you think Mr. Rodgers will have a -difficult task?”</p> - -<p>Potter ran his fingers through his untidy grey -hair. “That remains to be seen,” he replied. “So -far, all that we know is that my cousin, Miss Susan -Baird, was poisoned with prussic acid.”</p> - -<p>“Is that all the police know?” she questioned rapidly.</p> - -<p>He did not answer immediately, his attention -apparently centered on the newspaper which lay -folded so that the headlines were in view:</p> - -<p class="center no-indent">Coroner’s Inquest Returns Open Verdict</p> - -<p>“It is all that the police will admit knowing,” he -said at last. “I must remind you that you have not -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>answered my question: how often does Kitty see -Major Wallace?”</p> - -<p>“I am unable to tell you.” There was a touch of -insolence in her manner and his eyes sparkled with -anger. “I do not keep tab on Kitty—” their glances -crossed—“and I don’t intend to.”</p> - -<p>Potter hesitated a second, then rose. “It was -good of you to see me,” he announced. His tone -was perfunctory. “My interest in Kitty prompted -the visit.” He stooped over and picked up a glove -which had slipped from his restless fingers to the -floor. “Good-by. Don’t trouble to ring for James; -I know my way out.”</p> - -<p>But Mrs. Parsons was already half across the -room and her finger touched the electric button with -some force. James was a trifle out of breath when -he reached them.</p> - -<p>“Take Mr. Potter down in the lift,” she directed. -“Good evening, Ben,” and with a slight, graceful -gesture, she dismissed him.</p> - -<p>Once more back in her chair Mrs. Parsons settled -down in comfort and permitted her thoughts to -wander far afield. It was not often that she allowed -herself to dwell on the past.</p> - -<p>“So Ted Rodgers is taking a hand in the game,” -she murmured, unconscious that she spoke aloud. -“And Ben Potter is interested in—Kitty.” Putting -back her head, she laughed heartily. She was still -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>chuckling to herself when James, the butler, came -in to announce dinner.</p> - -<p>Dinner with Mrs. Parsons was a formal affair -even when alone, and she looked with approval at -the spotless linen, the burnished silver, and glittering -glass. She thoroughly appreciated her butler’s taste -in table decoration. Domestic troubles, which vexed -other women, never touched her household. She -had one theory which she always put into practice—to -pay her servants just a little more than her -neighbors gave their domestics, and it was seldom -that they left her employ.</p> - -<p>Washington society had found that Mrs. Parsons -was wealthy enough to indulge in her whims, and, -bringing, as she did, letters of introduction from -far-off California to influential residents of the national -Capital, she had been entertained at houses -to which newcomers frequently waited for years to -gain the <i>entrée</i>. Well gowned, handsome rather -than pretty, quick of wit, Mrs. Parsons soon attained -a place for herself in the kaleidoscopic life -of the cosmopolitan city, and, giving up her suite of -rooms at the New Willard had, three months before, -purchased a house on fashionable Wyoming Avenue.</p> - -<p>On taking possession of what she termed her -<i>maisonnette</i>, Mrs. Parsons decided that she had need -of a social secretary. Kitty Baird had been highly -recommended for the post by Charles Craige, and, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>after much urging on the part of both Mrs. Parsons -and her godfather, Kitty had resigned her clerkship -in the Department of State, which she had held -during the World War, and taken up her secretarial -duties.</p> - -<p>And Kitty had been of genuine aid to her employer, -as Mrs. Parsons acknowledged to herself if -to no one else—she was chary of spoken praise. -Kitty had not only an accurate knowledge of social -life in Washington, having enjoyed belleship since -her first “tea dance” at Rauscher’s which one of her -aunt’s old friends had given in her honor, but possessed -unbounded tact and a kindly heart. Her aunt, -Miss Susan Baird, had seen to it that she was well -educated and thoroughly grounded in French and -German. Having a natural gift for languages, Kitty -had put her early training to good account in her -war work as a translator and code expert.</p> - -<p>To James’ secret distress, Mrs. Parsons partook -but indifferently of the deliciously cooked dinner, -even refusing dessert which, to his mind, was inexplicable.</p> - -<p>“Has Miss Kitty Baird telephoned at any time -to-day?” she asked, laying down her napkin.</p> - -<p>“No, Madam.” James concealed his surprise. -It was not like Mrs. Parsons to repeat herself, and to -his best recollection, and he had a good memory, she -had asked that same question at least a dozen times. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>“Will you have coffee served in the drawing room, -Madam?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t care for coffee to-night, thanks.” Mrs. -Parsons picked up her scarf and rose. “Tell Anton -that if any one calls this evening, I am at -home.”</p> - -<p>“Very good, Madam,” and James held back the -portières for her as she left the room.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons did not return to the drawing room: -instead she made her way to the “den” at the end of -the hall, a pretty square room, which served as a -lounge and library. Once there she paused by the -telephone stand and laid her hand on the instrument.</p> - -<p>“West, 789.” She was forced to repeat the number -several times before Central got it correctly.</p> - -<p>There was a brief wait, then came the answer, -“Line disconnected, ma’am,” and she heard Central -ring off. Mrs. Parsons put down the instrument -in bewildered surprise. “Why had Kitty Baird’s -telephone been disconnected?” She was still considering -the puzzle as she rearranged some “bridesmaids’ -roses” in a vase. By it lay a note in Charles -Craige’s fine penmanship. Picking up the note, Mrs. -Parsons read it for perhaps the twentieth time.</p> - -<p>It ran:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>My precious Cecelia:</p> - -<p>I am disconsolate that I cannot dine with you to-night. -I have promised to see Kitty—poor girl, she -needs all the sympathy and help we can give her. -Miss me just a little and I shall be contented. My -thoughts are with you always.</p> - -<p class="right2">Ever faithfully,</p> - -<p class="right">Charles Craige.</p> -</div> - -<p>“Beg pardon, Madam.” James the obsequious -stood in the room, card tray in hand. “Major Leigh -Wallace is waiting for you in the drawing room.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons folded the note and slipped it inside -her knitting bag. “Ask Major Wallace to -come here,” she said, pausing to switch on a floor -lamp, the light from which cast a becoming glow on -her as she selected a chair beside it, and took up her -embroidery.</p> - -<p>“Ah, Leigh, good evening,” she exclaimed a moment -later as the young officer stood by her. “Have -you come to make your peace with me?”</p> - -<p>“In what way have I offended?” Wallace asked.</p> - -<p>“You were so rude to one of my guests at my -tea yesterday.” Mrs. Parsons watched him as he -made himself comfortable in a dainty settee under -the lamp.</p> - -<p>“Rude to one of your guests? Impossible!” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>ejaculated Wallace in surprise. “To whom do you -refer?”</p> - -<p>“Nina Potter.” Mrs. Parsons had not taken her -eyes off him, and she caught the sudden shifting of -his gaze. “Why are you and she no longer friendly?”</p> - -<p>“You are mistaken.” Wallace spoke stiffly. “We -are—I am still a great admirer of hers—”</p> - -<p>“And Kitty—”</p> - -<p>Wallace flushed to the roots of his sandy hair. -“Kitty never had very much use for me,” he admitted, -rather bitterly. “She—she—seems to be -tired—”</p> - -<p>“Of being a cat’s paw?”</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Parsons!” Wallace was on his feet, his -eyes snapping with anger.</p> - -<p>“Don’t go,” Mrs. Parsons’ smile was ingratiating. -“Forgive me if I blunder, Leigh. Sometimes -an outsider sees most of the game. Will you take a -friendly piece of advice—”</p> - -<p>“Surely,” but Wallace was slow in reseating himself.</p> - -<p>“Then avoid Ben Potter.” Mrs. Parsons picked -up her neglected embroidery, and did not trouble to -glance at her guest.</p> - -<p>Wallace’s attempt at a laugh was something of a -failure. “I saw Potter an hour ago at the club,” he -volunteered. “He told me that he and his wife were -leaving for New York to-night.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Indeed.” Mrs. Parsons held her needle nearer -the light and threaded it with deft fingers. “Is -Kitty Baird going with them?”</p> - -<p>“I believe not.” Wallace moved a trifle and -shaded his face with his hand. “I’ve just come from -‘Rose Hill.’”</p> - -<p>“And how is Kitty? Did you see her?” Mrs. -Parsons spoke with such rapidity that her questions -ran together.</p> - -<p>“No.” Wallace compressed his lips. “She sent -down word that she begged to be excused.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” Mrs. Parsons lowered her embroidery and -regarded her companion. He looked wretchedly ill, -and the haggard lines were deeper than ever. For -a man of his height and breadth of shoulder, he -seemed to have shrunken, for his clothes appeared -to hang upon him. Dwelling on his ill-health would -not tend to lessen Wallace’s nervous condition, and -Mrs. Parsons omitted personalities. “Were you at -the Baird inquest?” she inquired.</p> - -<p>“Yes, that is, I got there late—” stumbling somewhat -in his speech. “Why don’t you go and see -Kitty, Cecelia? That house of hers is sort of -ghastly—”</p> - -<p>“For any one who suffers from nerves,” she put -in, and he flushed at the irony of her tone, “Kitty -has plenty of courage. I—” she smiled. “I am in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>clined -to think that Kitty has inherited some of her -aunt’s prejudices—”</p> - -<p>“She couldn’t inherit any likes—that abominable -aunt of hers hated everybody.” Wallace spoke -with such bitter feeling that Mrs. Parsons restrained -a smile with difficulty.</p> - -<p>“Poor Kitty,” her tone was full of sympathy. “I -am glad she has Ted Rodgers to lean on.”</p> - -<p>Wallace flushed angrily. “He’s the one who has -made all the trouble,” he began. “If it hadn’t been -for his—”</p> - -<p>“What?” as Wallace came to an abrupt halt.</p> - -<p>“Oh, nothing.” Wallace beat the devil’s tattoo -on the chair arm. “I must be going, Cecelia. It’s a -beastly bore having to turn in early, but I must obey -the doctor’s orders.”</p> - -<p>“You certainly should take better care of yourself.” -Mrs. Parsons walked with Wallace to the -door of the room. The house was an English basement -in design, and as they came to the top of the -flight of steps leading to the ground floor, Wallace -held out his hand. It felt feverish to the touch and -Mrs. Parsons regarded him with growing concern. -“Stop and see Dr. McLean on your way home,” she -advised.</p> - -<p>“I’m all right.” Wallace laughed recklessly. -“Don’t worry, I take a lot of killing. Good night.” -And, squeezing her hand until the pressure forced -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>her rings into the tender skin, he released it and ran -down the steps.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons lingered long enough to hear James -assisting Wallace into his overcoat and then went -thoughtfully into her drawing room. The footman -had left one of the window shades up and Mrs. Parsons -paused to pull it down. The street was well -lighted from the electric lamp opposite her doorway, -and, as she stood idly looking out of the window, -she saw Major Leigh Wallace start to cross the street, -hesitate at the curb, turn to his left and walk eastward. -He had gone but a short distance when Mrs. -Parsons saw a man slip out from the doorway of -the next house and start down the street after -Wallace. Halfway down the block Wallace crossed -the street and without glancing backward continued -on his way, his shadow at his heels.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons watched them out of sight, her eyes -big with suppressed excitement. When she finally -pulled down the window shade her hand was not -quite steady.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII<br /> -THE CASE OF THE GILA MONSTER</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">U</span><span class="smcap">naware</span> that he had a place in Mrs. -Parsons’ meditations as well as in her conversation -with Major Leigh Wallace, Ted -Rogers parked his car near the entrance to “Rose -Hill.” His ring at the front door bell was answered -by Mandy, the ebony shadow of Oscar, her husband.</p> - -<p>“Kin yo’ see Miss Kitty?” She repeated the -question after him. “Why, I ’spect yo’ kin, Mister -Rodgers. Jes’ step inside, Sah, an’ I’ll go find Miss -Kitty.”</p> - -<p>Closing the front door and putting up the night -latch with much jingling, Mandy led Rodgers down -the hall to the entrance of the library.</p> - -<p>“The lamps am lighted in hyar,” she said by way -of explanation. “Ole Miss never used to let Miss -Kitty have a light in de odder rooms on dis flo’, -cept when Oscar was a-servin’ dinner. An’ we all -got so we jes’ never thought o’ carryin’ a lamp into -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>de parlor. Make yo’self comfortable, Sah, I’ll tell -Miss Kitty an’ she’ll be down terec’ly.”</p> - -<p>With a word of thanks Rodgers passed the old -servant and entered the library. The light from the -two oil lamps was supplemented by a cheerful fire -in the brick chimney at the farther end of the room, -and its cheerful glow did much to dispel the dreary -atmosphere which prevailed.</p> - -<p>Rodgers did not at once sit down. Instead he -paused in the center of the library and gravely regarded -the tea table and the throne-shaped chair -where he had frequently seen Miss Susan Baird sitting -when entertaining guests at tea. He had a -retentive memory, and as his eyes roved about the -library, he pieced out the scene of the discovery of -the dead woman as described on the witness stand -by Inspector Mitchell.</p> - -<p>As far as Rodgers could judge, no change had -been made in the room, except in the arrangement of -the tea table. The soiled dishes and tea cups had -been removed, the tea service cleaned and put back, -and the fruit dish, of Royal Dresden china of ancient -pattern, was empty. Forgetful of the passing time, -he wandered about examining with keen attention -the fine oil paintings of dead and gone Bairds, the -camels’ hair shawls which had been converted into -portières, the Persian rugs on the hardwood floor. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>What matter that all showed traces of wear and tear? -The room was cleanliness personified.</p> - -<p>Genteel poverty—his surroundings cried of it. -Rodgers thought, with a tightening of his heart-strings, -of Kitty’s brave endeavor to keep up the old -home and provide her aunt with every comfort within -her means. And her aunt had been murdered. -Murdered! He shook his head in bewilderment. -What possible motive could have inspired such a -crime? Who would murder a poverty-stricken old -woman? Avarice—where was the gain? Revenge—for -what? Hate—why hate a feeble old -woman? There remained robbery as a possible -motive. Could it be that?</p> - -<p>Rodgers crossed over to the “Dutch” door and -examined it with interest. Neither its lock nor its -solid panels gave indication of having been forced -open. From the door his attention passed to the -three small windows, placed just under the flooring -of the gallery; they appeared tightly closed and resisted -his efforts to move them. The library gained -its chief light in the daytime from the skylight and -the windows opening upon the gallery.</p> - -<p>Turning around, Rodgers stood hesitating, his -head slightly bent to catch the faintest sound. He -had heard, some moments before, Mandy’s halting -footsteps as she came limping down the staircase, -then along the hall to the basement stairs, and the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>shutting of the door after her descending figure. He -looked at his watch; ten minutes had elapsed since -his arrival and still Kitty had not appeared. Surely -she would have sent word by Mandy if she had not -wished him to wait? He took from his pocket a -crumpled note and smoothed it out. The act had -become a habit. He did not need to read the few -lines penned on the paper—he knew them by heart.</p> - -<p class="center no-indent">Come to-night. I must see you. K. B.</p> - -<p>He had obeyed the summons eagerly. Kitty had -asked him to find out who killed her aunt. And the -inquest had brought out what?—that Miss Susan -Baird had come to her death through poison administered -by a party or parties unknown. It had -also disclosed the fact that the last person to see -Miss Susan alive was Kitty Baird, and Oscar had -testified that aunt and niece had quarreled that fatal -Sunday afternoon—over Major Leigh Wallace. -Rodgers whitened at the thought. Were Kitty and -Wallace really engaged, as he had been given to understand -by no less a person than Ben Potter? If -so, he cut a sorry figure dancing attendance upon -Kitty. She had grown to be all in all to him. It -was a case of the moth and the candle. Rodgers -smiled wryly; he could not tear himself away, even -if he would, and she had asked him to aid her! -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>Rodgers squared his shoulders. As soon as the -mystery of Miss Susan Baird’s death was solved, he -would leave Washington and give Wallace a clear -field. Kitty was entitled to happiness.</p> - -<p>Tired of inaction, harassed by his thought, -Rodgers tramped about the room and finally paused -in front of the fireplace. Mouchette, Kitty’s Angora -cat, rolled over at his approach and yawned sleepily. -She had awakened at his entrance, but the comfort -of an excellent dinner and the heat of the fire had -proven too strong to keep her awake, and she had -curled up again and gone to sleep.</p> - -<p>The hearth was set far back and two benches -were framed on either hand by the walls of the -chimney. They looked inviting, and, after giving -Mouchette a final pat, Rodgers dropped down on one -of the benches, his broad back braced across the -corner of the wall, while his long legs were stretched -out toward the fire burning so briskly on the hearth. -He watched the play of the firelight with unconscious -intensity, his mind picturing Kitty’s alluring personality. -A log broke and as the burning embers -struck the hearth, sparks flew out and upward. One -landed on the bench on which Rodgers was sitting -and he leaned forward to knock it back upon the -hearth. As his hand struck the bench a glancing -blow, he felt the wood give and the next instant he -was gazing into a small hole.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> - -<p>Rodgers stared at it in deep surprise. Bending -closer he saw that he must have touched a concealed -spring which released the trap-door. It was not a -large cavity into which he peered, hardly a foot deep -and about six inches square, or so he judged in the -fitful glow of the fire. He sat for a moment perfectly -still, then drawing out his matchbox, struck -a light and held it carefully so that its rays fell -directly into the small hole. It was empty except for -a medium-sized brass key to which was tied a small -tag. Bending nearer, he made out the scrawled lines -with some difficulty:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>This key unlocks the inside drawer of the highboy -in the blue room on the fourth floor.</p></div> - -<p>A bell reverberating through the silent house -caused Rodgers to spring up and look into the hall, -in time to see Mandy emerge from behind the door -leading to the basement stairs and make her way to -the front of the house. A murmur of voices reached -Rodgers, then a firm tread sounded down the uncarpeted -hall, and parting the portières Charles -Craige walked into the library.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Rodgers,” he exclaimed in hearty greeting. -“Mandy told me that you were here. Have -you seen Kitty?”</p> - -<p>“Not yet.” Rodgers shook Craige’s hand with -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>vigor. He had grown to like and admire the brilliant -lawyer whose many acts of kindness had added to -the enjoyment of his visit. Besides, and Rodgers’ -eyes glowed, was he not Kitty’s godfather!</p> - -<p>“Trust Kitty to keep a man waiting,” and Craige -smiled as he spoke, then grew grave. “This is a -devilish bad business—not to say shocking. Poor -Susan—the last person in the world whose death -would have been of benefit to any one, and yet she -was murdered.”</p> - -<p>“If we are to believe the medical evidence, yes,” -replied Rodgers. “Poison can be administered with -murderous intent, but we must also remember that -it can be taken with the intent to commit suicide.”</p> - -<p>“True.” Craige chose a seat at some distance from -the throne-shaped chair. “But I cannot associate -either murder or suicide with Susan. I tell you, -Rodgers, Susan had an intense desire to live, and I -can conceive of no one wishing for her death sufficiently -to face the gallows.”</p> - -<p>“But the fact remains that she either did away -with herself or was cold-bloodedly murdered,” retorted -Rodgers.</p> - -<p>Craige nodded his head moodily. “If murder, it -was cold-blooded, premeditated murder,” he agreed. -“Hush, here comes Kitty.”</p> - -<p>A door had opened on the gallery and Kitty appeared -from her bedroom, stood for a moment -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>hesitating, then hurrying forward she almost ran -down the short flight of steps to the library. She -paused by the newel post as both men advanced to -meet her.</p> - -<p>“I am so glad you are here,” she exclaimed, extending -her hands impulsively to each. “It has been -so dreadful—alone.”</p> - -<p>Craige laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder -and patted her gently as he kissed her. “We understand,” -he said. “Now, what can we do for you?”</p> - -<p>Rodgers, who still held Kitty’s hand in both of -his, released it reluctantly. He was slow of speech, -but his eyes, meeting Kitty’s gaze, conveyed a message -all their own. As Kitty preceded them across -the library, a warm blush mantled her cheeks.</p> - -<p>“Sit here, Miss Baird.” Rodgers placed a chair -for her near the chimney while Craige pulled forward -two others. Grateful for the warmth from -the fire, for her bedroom was insufficiently heated, -Kitty stretched out her hands to the blaze.</p> - -<p>“Why is your telephone disconnected, Kitty?” -asked Craige, after a brief silence which neither -Kitty or Rodgers made any attempt to break.</p> - -<p>“We were deluged with calls,” she explained. -“Especially the newspaper reporters.” She shivered -slightly. “They gave Mandy no rest.”</p> - -<p>“But to cut yourself off from your friends, Kitty, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>was that wise?” chided Craige gently. “No one -could reach you—I tried and failed.”</p> - -<p>“It did not stop your coming over to ask for me,” -she put in gratefully. “Ben and Nina Potter stopped -for a second before dinner. They left for New -York to-night.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed?” Craige frowned. “They should have -remained here with you,” noting with concern the -dark shadows under her eyes and the forlorn droop -to her usually erect shoulders. “You must not stay -here alone.”</p> - -<p>“But I am not alone,” she protested. “Dear, faithful -Mandy is with me.”</p> - -<p>Craige shook his head, unsatisfied. “Mandy is -an ignorant colored woman, old at that,” he remarked. -“You must have companionship—woman’s -companionship of your own class. Why not ask -Cecilia Parsons?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I would not think of asking her,” Kitty objected -quickly. “She is so—so sensitive, so—” -hunting about for the proper word. “Oh, the house, -all this—would get frightfully on her nerves.”</p> - -<p>At mention of Mrs. Parsons’ name, Rodgers -glanced from one to the other, finally letting his gaze -rest on the lawyer’s kindly, clever face. He had -heard the rumor connecting the pretty widow’s -name with Charles Craige, and that reports of their -engagement persisted, in spite of Mrs. Parsons’ -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span>laughing denial and Craige’s skillfully evasive answers -to all questions on the subject.</p> - -<p>“As you please, Kitty,” replied Craige. “But I -think that you are wrong not to ask Mrs. Parsons. -She would not hesitate to tell you if she did not wish -to come. She is frankness itself.”</p> - -<p>Kitty raised her eyebrows and a ghost of a smile -crossed her lips. “Mrs. Parsons is always most -kind,” she remarked, “but I prefer not to tax her -friendship.”</p> - -<p>The look Craige cast in her direction was a bit -sharp, and with some abruptness he changed the -subject.</p> - -<p>“Were you wise to have your aunt’s body put in -the vault this afternoon, Kitty?” he asked. “Did -you not overtax your strength? You look so utterly -weary.”</p> - -<p>“I am stronger than I appear.” Kitty passed her -hand across her eyes. “I could see no object in -waiting. Coroner Penfield suggested that we have -simple funeral ceremonies immediately after the inquest. -I tried to get word to you, but failed. It was -but prolonging the agony to wait—” with a catch -in her throat, “there was nothing to be gained by -waiting. It would not bring her back. Oh, poor -Aunt Susan!” And bowing her head Kitty gave -vent to the tears she had held back for many, many -hours.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> - -<p>Rodgers watched her in unhappy silence. Could -he find nothing to say—do nothing to comfort her? -He half rose impulsively to his feet—caught Craige’s -eye and sat down again. Craige leaned forward -and put his arms about the weeping girl and soothed -her with loving words. When she grew more composed, -he rose and paced up and down the library.</p> - -<p>“Had I not better call Mandy and let her put you -to bed, Kitty?” he asked, stopping by her chair. -“You can see us to-morrow when you are more -composed.”</p> - -<p>“No, wait.” Kitty sat up and attempted to smile. -“I am all right, now. Is it true, as the papers said, -that Aunt Susan died from poison placed on a peach -she was eating?”</p> - -<p>“If we are to believe the medical evidence, yes. -Chemical tests proved that prussic acid still remained -on one side of the blade of the fruit knife used to -cut the peach.”</p> - -<p>Kitty shuddered. “Who could have planned so -diabolical a murder?” she demanded.</p> - -<p>“That is for us to find out.” Kitty looked up -quickly at sound of Rodgers’ clear voice. “Tell me, -Miss Baird, have you no idea where the peaches -came from?”</p> - -<p>“Not the slightest,” she shook her head. “I am -positive there were no peaches in the house when I -left here Sunday afternoon. They are very ex<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>pensive -at this season of the year and,” with downright -frankness, “we could not afford to buy them, -although Aunt Susan was inordinately fond of -them.”</p> - -<p>“Some one must have sent the peaches who was -aware of your aunt’s liking for the fruit,” Craige -remarked thoughtfully. “Had she spoken of peaches -to any of your friends lately?”</p> - -<p>“Friends!” Kitty looked at him with dawning -horror. “You don’t think—you don’t mean that a -<i>friend</i> killed Aunt Susan?” She thrust out her -hands as if warding off some frightful nightmare. -“No, no. It was a housebreaker—a common, ordinary -housebreaker.”</p> - -<p>“It may have been a housebreaker,” agreed -Rodgers, soothingly. “But it was one with the -knowledge that the flavor of a peach would disguise -the taste of prussic acid.”</p> - -<p>“Kitty,” Craige spoke with deep seriousness. -“You must realize that this murder of your aunt -was a deliberately planned crime. Burglars don’t -go around carrying bottles of prussic acid in their -pockets. Also, there is one point of especial significance—but -one side of the knife-blade had poison -on it.”</p> - -<p>“You mean—?” She questioned him with -frightened eyes.</p> - -<p>“That some one whom your aunt knew must have -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>been taking tea with her, and in administering the -poison saw to it that <i>his</i> side of the peach was harmless,” -Craige responded.</p> - -<p>Kitty looked at the two men dumbly. Craige had -put into words what she had dimly realized.</p> - -<p>“It is dreadful!” she gasped. “What possible -motive could have inspired her murder?”</p> - -<p>Craige looked at Rodgers, then drawing out his -leather wallet he selected a newspaper clipping and -ran his eyes down the printed column.</p> - -<p>“Tell us, Kitty,” and his voice was coaxing. “Is it -true that you and your aunt quarreled on Sunday as -Oscar testified?”</p> - -<p>Kitty blanched and her eyes shifted from Rodgers -to the glowing embers on the hearth.</p> - -<p>“It wasn’t a quarrel,” she declared faintly. “Aunt -Susan and I had a few words—”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” prompted Craige. “A few words about -what?”</p> - -<p>“About money matters.” Kitty did not look at -either man. Rodgers’ heart sank. Oscar had also -testified that the quarrel was about Major Leigh -Wallace. Could it be that Kitty was prevaricating? -He put the thought from him. Oscar <i>must</i> have -lied.</p> - -<p>“About money matters,” Craig repeated, returning -the clipping and wallet to his pocket. “Then -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>why did you not tell that to Coroner Penfield when -he questioned you in the witness stand?”</p> - -<p>“It wasn’t his business—it had nothing to do with -Aunt Susan’s death,” she stated incoherently. -“And,” with a slow, painful blush, “our poverty, -our painful economies were bad enough without discussing -them in public.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” Craige cast a doubtful look at Rodgers, -but the latter’s expressionless face gave the keen-witted -lawyer no clue as to his opinion of Kitty’s -statement. “Kitty, were you your aunt’s nearest -relative?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Ben Potter is a second cousin, I believe.” -Kitty paused. “Ben has not been here very much -lately.”</p> - -<p>“Since his marriage, you mean?” asked Craige.</p> - -<p>Kitty glanced up and then away. “Yes. Aunt -Susan poked fun at him at the time of his marriage, -said she did not care for ‘poor whites,’ and Ben was -very angry.”</p> - -<p>“Was there ever an open quarrel?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no. Outwardly, they were good friends; -and they dined here usually once a month,” Kitty -explained. “But relations were strained a little bit.”</p> - -<p>“Could you not make Ben and Nina a visit when -they return from New York?” asked Craige.</p> - -<p>“I can, if I wish,” with quick resentment. “But -I prefer to stay in this house.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Just a moment, Kitty,” Craige held up a cautioning -hand. “This house belonged to your aunt, -did it not?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. But I—” she hesitated. “I ran the house -with the money I earned. I can still do that.”</p> - -<p>“True, if the house is left to you.” Kitty stared -at her godfather aghast. “Did your aunt leave her -will in your care?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“Did she ever speak to you of a will?”</p> - -<p>“No; she never mentioned the subject.”</p> - -<p>Craige looked at her thoughtfully. “It may be -that your aunt made no will,” he said finally. “I -transacted such legal matters as she brought to me, -but I never drew up a will.”</p> - -<p>“But as Miss Baird is her aunt’s nearest living -relative, would she not inherit her aunt’s property?” -asked Rodgers.</p> - -<p>“Possibly; but Ben Potter may claim his share of -the estate,” the lawyer pointed out.</p> - -<p>“Estate!” broke in Kitty with a nervous laugh. -“Poor Aunt Susan had only this house and its dilapidated -furniture. Ben is welcome to his share.”</p> - -<p>“Just a moment,” Craige interrupted in his turn. -“Your aunt must have left a will or some legal document -regarding the disposal of her property. She -had a great habit of tucking her papers away. You -recollect our search for the tax receipts, Kitty?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> - -<p>Kitty’s face brightened into one of her mischievous -smiles, while her eyes twinkled.</p> - -<p>“Aunt Susan was secretive,” she acknowledged. -“It was a case of searching for lump sugar even, -when she was in the mood for hiding things.”</p> - -<p>“Hiding!” Rodgers rose to his feet and his eyes -sought the bench where he had found the trap-door. -“Come here, Miss Baird,” and he beckoned them to -approach. “I opened that by accident just before -Mr. Craige arrived—see.”</p> - -<p>Kitty slipped her hand inside the cavity and drew -out the key.</p> - -<p>“I remember the trap-door,” she said. “If you -press on a spring concealed in one of the boards, -the door drops inward. But what does this tag -mean?” and they read the words aloud:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>This key unlocks the inside drawer of the highboy -in the blue room on the fourth floor.</p></div> - -<p>“Let us go and see what it means,” suggested -Rodgers, and Craige nodded his agreement.</p> - -<p>“Lead the way, Kitty,” he added. “Do you need -a lamp?”</p> - -<p>“There is a candlestick outside my bedroom door, -and we can light the gas jets as we go through the -halls,” she replied.</p> - -<p>Pausing only long enough to pick up several small -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>match boxes, she led the way out of the library and -up the long staircase. A light was burning dimly -in the first hall and Rodgers turned it up before -following Kitty and her godfather to the next story. -From there they hurried to the fourth floor, Kitty’s -candle but intensifying the darkness.</p> - -<p>The stuffy atmosphere of a room long unused -greeted them as they entered a large square room -facing the front of the house. With the aid of her -candle, Kitty located the one gas jet and by its -feeble rays they looked about them. The room -evidently obtained its name from its faded blue wall -paper. The old four-post bed and the massive -mahogany furniture belonged to another and richer -generation, but Rodgers had no time to investigate -its beauties, his attention being focussed on a highboy -standing near one of the windows. Kitty again -read the message on the tag before approaching the -highboy.</p> - -<p>“The inside drawer,” she repeated. “What does -she mean?”</p> - -<p>For answer Rodgers pulled open the nearest -drawer. It was filled with old finery, and after -tumbling its contents about, Kitty closed it.</p> - -<p>“Try the next,” suggested Craige. The second -drawer proved equally unproductive of result, and -it was with growing discouragement that they went -through the next three and found them also unin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>teresting. -On pulling out the last drawer Kitty -found it arranged as a writing desk.</p> - -<p>“I have seen this kind before,” Rodgers felt along -the front of the drawer; there was a faint click and -the front woodwork swung aside, disclosing an inside -drawer.</p> - -<p>Kitty slipped the key she was carrying into the -lock. It turned with a slight squeaking sound, showing -the need of oil, and Kitty drew open the drawer. -Inside it lay another brass key also tagged.</p> - -<p>“What does it say?” she asked as Rodgers picked -it up.</p> - -<p>He read:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>This key unlocks the lower left hand drawer of -the sideboard in the dining room.</p></div> - -<p>“Is that your aunt’s handwriting?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.” Kitty looked as mystified as she felt. -“Shall we go downstairs and look in the sideboard?”</p> - -<p>“Of course.” As he spoke, Craige started for -the door. It took them but a few minutes to reach -the dining room, and it was with a sense of rising -excitement that Kitty unlocked the “lower left hand -drawer” of the sideboard.</p> - -<p>“Good gracious! Another key!” she gasped, and -held it up so that both men could read the tag tied -to it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> - -<p>The message ran:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>This key unlocks the linen trunk in the attic.</p></div> - -<p>“Upon my word your aunt outdid herself!” exclaimed -Craige. “Come, Kitty, as long as we have -started this investigation, we must complete it.”</p> - -<p>Not having anticipated having to return to the -top of the house, Rodgers had carefully put out all -the lights, and relighting the gas jets delayed them -somewhat. Kitty’s candle had almost burned itself -out when they entered the cold and unfriendly attic. -No gas pipes had been placed there, and Rodgers -was thankful that his electric torch, which he carried -when motoring at night, was in his pocket. By -its rays Kitty recognized the old-fashioned brass-bound -hair trunk in which her aunt had kept some -precious pieces of hand woven linen.</p> - -<p>Crouching down on the floor with Rodgers holding -his torch so that she could see the best, Kitty -turned the key in the lock and threw back the lid -of the trunk. On the spotless white linen lay a -small brass key with a tag twice its size. The message -it bore read:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>This key unlocks the case of the Gila monster.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> - -<p>“The case of the Gila monster,” repeated Rodgers. -“What did your aunt mean?”</p> - -<p>“I know!” Kitty clapped her hands. “Ben Potter -spent the summer with Aunt Susan two years ago -and he left one of his cases here. It contains the -plaster cast of a Gila monster.”</p> - -<p>“And where is the case?” asked Craige.</p> - -<p>“In the library.”</p> - -<p>“Then let us go there at once. You will catch -cold up in this icy place, Kitty.” Observing that she -was shivering, Craige closed the trunk with a resounding -bang, drew out the key, and preceded them -out of the attic.</p> - -<p>Back in the library again, Kitty walked over to a -Japanese screen, which cut off one corner of the -room, and pushing it aside, disclosed a low oak case -on which rested a glass box. Inside the box lay the -cast of a Gila monster. The poisonous lizard looked -so alive that Rodgers was startled for a moment. -Bending closer, he viewed its wedge-shaped head -and black and yellow mottled body with deep interest.</p> - -<p>“So that is the end of our search!” Kitty laughed -ruefully. “Aunt Susan had a remarkable sense of -humor.”</p> - -<p>“Wait a bit,” exclaimed Rodgers. “Why not unlock -the case?”</p> - -<p>“If you wish—” Kitty inserted the key in the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>lock and pulled down the glass door of the box, and -she and her companions stared silently at the monster. -Suddenly, Rodgers leaned forward and picked -up the plaster cast. An exclamation broke from -Craige.</p> - -<p>“Papers at last!” he shouted. “Look, Kitty—Rodgers—” -and as Rodgers removed the cast entirely -out of the glass case, they saw that a part of -the flooring of the box, which was built to resemble -a sandy desert, came with the lizard, leaving a -cavity, or false bottom, in which lay some documents. -Gathering them up, Craige walked over to -the nearest lamp and drawing up a chair sat down.</p> - -<p>“With your permission, Kitty,” he said. “These -papers are not sealed—shall I open them?”</p> - -<p>“Certainly.”</p> - -<p>Craige pulled out a short half sheet of foolscap -from the first envelope and read its contents aloud:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>Know all present that I, Susan Baird, spinster, of -Washington, D. C., being of sound mind, do give -and devise to my niece, Katrina Baird, all I may die -possessed of, real or personal property. This is a -special bequest in view of her efforts to support me.</p> - -<p>A list of my property and a key to my safe deposit -boxes in the bank, certificates of ownership, -etc., are placed here with this, my last will and testament.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> - -<p class="no-indent">Signed in the presence of:<br /> -Josiah Wilkins, Martha Hammond, and James Duncan, June 20, 1918.</p> - -<p class="right">Susan Baird.</p></div> - -<p>Kitty and Rodgers stared at each other as Craige, -laying aside the will, rapidly opened the three other -documents and examined them. Kitty drew a long, -long breath.</p> - -<p>“So I get the old house after all,” she said softly.</p> - -<p>“You get far more than that, Kitty,” Craige laid -down the documents. “From these statements and -certificates I find that your aunt owned many valuable -stocks and bonds.” He looked at the surprised -girl for a moment, then added: “She has left you -a fortune.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX<br /> -MRS. PARSONS ASKS QUESTIONS</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">W</span><span class="smcap">ashington</span> society, or such portions -of it as had known Miss Susan Baird in -her lifetime, was agog over the latest development -in the Baird tragedy; while Washingtonians -personally unacquainted with the spinster were -equally interested from motives of curiosity in the -filing of her will. And all Washington, figuratively -speaking, rubbed its eyes and read the newspapers -assiduously, without, however, gaining much satisfaction. -News from Police Headquarters was -scant, and reporters resorted to theories in place of -facts in trying to solve the murder of the “Miser of -Rose Hill.” Miss Susan Baird, in death, had -emerged from the obscurity which had shrouded her -in life.</p> - -<p>Inspector Mitchell leaned forward in his chair, -rested his elbows on the highly polished mahogany -table-top and contemplated Mrs. Parsons with speculative -interest. Three quarters of an hour before -he had received a telephone message requesting him -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>to call upon her on, as her servant had stated, urgent -business. He had spent ten minutes in conversation -with Mrs. Parsons and had not received the faintest -inkling as to why she wished to see him.</p> - -<p>“May I ask, Madam,” he began with direct bluntness, -“what it is that you wish to see me about?”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons looked across the “den” to make -sure that the door was closed. Satisfied on that -point, she turned her attention to the inspector.</p> - -<p>“I am anxious to have your bureau undertake a -certain investigation for me,” she said. “I will -gladly meet all expenses, no matter how large they -may be.”</p> - -<p>“Just a moment,” broke in Mitchell. “Do you -mean a private investigation?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I suppose so,” somewhat doubtfully. “You -might term it that. I want certain information -about a—a person’s past career—”</p> - -<p>She stopped as Mitchell shook his head.</p> - -<p>“We are public officials, Madam, employed by the -District Government,” he explained. “What you -require is a private detective.”</p> - -<p>“But are they not untrustworthy?” she questioned. -“I was told they very often sold you out to the -person you wished watched.”</p> - -<p>“There are crooks in all trades, Madam,” replied -Mitchell. “There are also honest men. You are not -obliged to pick a crooked detective to work for you.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> - -<p>“That is just it— Can you recommend a trustworthy -person to—to—”</p> - -<p>“To what, Madam?” as she came to a stammering -halt.</p> - -<p>“To learn certain facts in a person’s life.” She -plucked nervously at her handkerchief as she waited -for his answer.</p> - -<p>“You will have to be more explicit, Madam,” he -said gravely. “Whose past life do you wish investigated -and why?”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons paused in indecision; then with an -air of perfect candor addressed the impatient inspector.</p> - -<p>“Of course you will respect my confidence,” she -began. Mitchell nodded. “There is a certain man -in Washington who has gained a welcome in the -most exclusive homes,” she paused. “I believe him -to be an adventurer.”</p> - -<p>“Come, Mrs. Parsons, that is not being very explicit,” -remonstrated Mitchell. “To whom are you -alluding?”</p> - -<p>“A man calling himself Edward Rodgers.”</p> - -<p>Mitchell sat back and regarded her in unconcealed -surprise.</p> - -<p>“Edward Rodgers,” he echoed. “You surely do -not mean Edward Rodgers, the handwriting expert?”</p> - -<p>“I do.” His profound astonishment was a sap to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>her vanity, and she could not restrain a smile. It -vanished suddenly as a thought recurred to her. -“You have promised, Inspector, not to repeat what -I tell you. I depend upon you to keep your word.”</p> - -<p>“Of course.” Mitchell reddened. “I don’t break -confidences, Madam. But you have said too much -not to say more. What are your reasons for claiming -that Edward Rodgers is an adventurer?”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons did not reply at once and Mitchell -studied her with covert interest. She was dressed -in exquisite taste and the delicate rose-tint of her -complexion had been applied with such consummate -skill that even the uncompromising glare of a March -morning betrayed no signs of make-up to the sharp -eyes of her visitor. Mitchell had always been more -or less susceptible to women’s wiles, and his stiff -official manner had thawed perceptibly when she had -welcomed him with a cordiality very gratifying to -his <i>amour propre</i>.</p> - -<p>“Some years ago,” Mrs. Parsons spoke in so low -a tone that Mitchell was obliged to lean forward -to catch what she said. “My husband, then a practicing -attorney in San Francisco, had a client, Jacob -Brown, a man of supposed wealth and standing in -the community. Gradually, I do not know why, -certain business transactions in which Brown was -involved became questionable, but it was not until -the Holt will case—”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> - -<p>“The Holt will case!” Inspector Mitchell drew -back sharply. “Hah! Jake Brown—‘Gentleman -Jake?’”</p> - -<p>“Yes, just so.” She looked at him admiringly. -“You have an excellent memory, Inspector.”</p> - -<p>“Where crime is concerned,” he admitted, with -a touch of pride. “Let me see, Gentleman Jake was -one of the beneficiaries in Colonel Holt’s will at a -time when his financial affairs were in bad shape—”</p> - -<p>“In fact, Gentleman Jake was a ruined man—” -she supplemented softly.</p> - -<p>“Exactly.” Mitchell warmed to his subject. “And -according to the will, Colonel Holt left him a hundred -thousand dollars. Then along came a nephew -who dug up another will and claimed that the one -leaving the legacy to Gentleman Jake was a clever -forgery.”</p> - -<p>“And the nephew won his case through the expert -testimony of Edward Rodgers, handwriting expert,” -added Mrs. Parsons. “Gentleman Jake was sent to -the penitentiary and—”</p> - -<p>“Died before his term was up,” Mitchell completed -the sentence for her.</p> - -<p>“But before he died he sent for my husband,” -Mrs. Parsons paused, then spoke more rapidly. -“Jake Brown trusted my husband: he had stood by -him and aided in his defense. On his death-bed -Jake confessed—”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> - -<p>“That <i>his</i> Holt will was a forgery,” interrupted -Mitchell, pleased that he could again piece out her -story and thereby prove his recollection of the case.</p> - -<p>“That was his public confession,” Mrs. Parsons -lowered her voice. “What he told my husband under -pledge of secrecy was that the <i>second</i> will was also a -forgery.”</p> - -<p>“Second will?” sharply. “You mean the will produced -by the nephew?”</p> - -<p>“Exactly so.”</p> - -<p>“Well, good gracious!” Mitchell rubbed his -head, perplexed in mind. “Why wasn’t it proven -a forgery then?”</p> - -<p>“Because its legality was never questioned. You -will recall that Colonel Holt’s nephew produced letters -and documents to prove his claim, and—” with -a quiet smile—“every one’s attention was centered -on Jake Brown and the will he fostered. Jake <i>knew</i> -his will was a forgery and his entire effort was to -evade the law. It was not until he was serving his -sentence that Jake’s suspicions were aroused, and it -was one of his fellow convicts who gave him the -tip.”</p> - -<p>“And what was the tip?” asked Mitchell, as she -paused.</p> - -<p>“That Edward Rodgers turned his expert knowledge -of handwriting and his skillful penmanship to -good account—” calmly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You mean—”</p> - -<p>“Jake told my husband that Edward Rodgers -examined the spurious will when it was first offered -for probate and discovered that it was a forgery. -Keeping his knowledge to himself, Mr. Rodgers -communicated with Colonel Holt’s nephew and, for -a consideration, drew up the will leaving all Colonel -Holt’s fortune to the nephew—”</p> - -<p>“Oh, come,” Mitchell’s smile was skeptical. “The -nephew, as next of kin, would have inherited the -property when the first will was proven a forgery; -for in that event Colonel Holt died intestate.”</p> - -<p>“But there was another relative who should have -shared Colonel Holt’s fortune in case the Colonel -died without leaving a will,” she explained.</p> - -<p>“Oh!”</p> - -<p>“Thus, to inherit his uncle’s wealth the nephew -had to produce a will in his favor,” she went on. -“It was clever to present a second spurious will under -the protection, you might say, of a detected forged -will around which interest centered. As far as I -know, the second will was so cleverly drawn that it -never aroused suspicion.”</p> - -<p>“And thus the nephew inherited his uncle’s -money.” Mitchell stroked his chin thoughtfully. -“What was Gentleman Jake’s object in telling -this—” he hesitated, torn between a sense of politeness -and unbelief, “this story to your husband?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Jake said that he confided in him hoping that -Mr. Parsons could catch Edward Rodgers tripping -some day and send him to the ‘pen,’” she replied.</p> - -<p>“Did your husband place any faith in Jake’s -yarn?” he asked. “A cornered crook, like a cornered -cat, will fight—and lie.”</p> - -<p>“On his death-bed?” She shook her head. “I -think not. What had Jake to gain then?”</p> - -<p>“Well, did your husband take any steps in exposing -the second will?” asked Mitchell.</p> - -<p>“My husband,” her expression altered to one of -deep sadness, “was killed in an automobile accident -shortly after.”</p> - -<p>“Oh,” Mitchell coughed slightly to cover his embarrassment. -“Oh.”</p> - -<p>“Amos often discussed his cases with me,” she -added. “And Gentleman Jake’s statements had -aroused him to an unusual degree. He was thunderstruck -at the effrontery of the crime and at its cleverness.”</p> - -<p>“It was a clever scheme,” acknowledged Mitchell, -“and probably succeeded through its very boldness. -But, pardon me, Madam, you have brought forward -no proof to substantiate your story.”</p> - -<p>“I am coming to that.” Mrs. Parsons rose and -walking over to a closet, beckoned to the inspector. -Opening the door, she knelt down before a small -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>safe used to hold her table silver. From one of its -compartments she took out a worn envelope.</p> - -<p>“I forgot to tell you,” she stated, shutting the -door of the safe, “that the fellow convict who gave -the tip to Gentleman Jake was up for burglary. -Some time previous to his arrest he had entered Edward -Rodgers’ apartment in San Francisco and, -among other things, stolen these papers. He sent -them to my husband when released from the ‘pen.’ -See for yourself,” and she handed the envelope to -Mitchell.</p> - -<p>Returning to his old seat, Inspector Mitchell shook -the contents of the envelope on the table, then laying -it down he picked up a yellowish paper, which -bore the signature: “John Holt” written over and -over. The reverse was a letter in a stiff, Spencerian -handwriting:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>Dear Rodgers:</p> - -<p>Call at my office to-morrow. I plan to destroy -my last will, and would like you to locate my nephew, -Leigh Wallace, for me.</p> - -<p class="right2">Yours,</p> - -<p class="right">John Holt.</p></div> - -<p>Without comment Mitchell laid aside the letter -and picked up another paper. It bore the same signature, -traced in varying forms of completeness, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>in one corner the name, “Leigh Wallace,” was repeated -again and again. The third and last paper -was in the stiff handwriting of the letter signed by -John Holt, and read:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>I, John Holt, being in good health and of sound -mind, do hereby revoke all other instruments and -do declare this to be my last will and testament. I -give and bequeath to my nephew, Leigh Wallace—</p></div> -<p>The remainder of the page was blank except for -a large smudge of ink.</p> - -<p>Inspector Mitchell laid the three sheets of paper -side by side and examined them with care.</p> - -<p>“Leigh Wallace,” he said smilingly. “Is he any -relation to the Major Leigh Wallace over whom -Miss Baird and her niece, Miss Kitty, are said by -Oscar to have quarreled on Sunday shortly before -Miss Baird’s murder?”</p> - -<p>“He is the same man.” Mrs. Parsons pushed -aside the vase of flowers standing on the table so that -she could obtain an unobstructed view of Mitchell -and the papers lying in front of him. “Strange, is -it not, that Major Leigh Wallace and Edward -Rodgers should both be in Washington and both -interested in the Baird murder?”</p> - -<p>“Why strange?” Inspector Mitchell was not to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>be drawn. “All Washington is interested in Miss -Susan Baird’s death.”</p> - -<p>“But not with such a <i>personal</i> interest.” Mrs. -Parsons’ voice was honey sweet. “Edward Rodgers -has promised to aid in tracing her murderer. Also, -Colonel Holt was Kitty Baird’s uncle.”</p> - -<p>“What—then she is the other relative you alluded -to—?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.” She paused. “Colonel Holt died intestate -and his property should have been divided -equally between his nearest of kin, Kitty Baird, and -her cousin, Leigh Wallace.”</p> - -<p>“But the forged will gave the entire fortune to -Wallace,” Mitchell spoke slowly.</p> - -<p>“Which he has squandered,” she added. “Leigh -Wallace is cursed with an inherited vice—a craze -for gambling.”</p> - -<p>Inspector Mitchell raised his head and regarded -Mrs. Parsons. The silence lasted fully a minute, -then picking up the three papers he replaced them -in the worn envelope and pocketed it.</p> - -<p>“You have given me valuable information,” he -said, rising. “It will not be necessary to call in a -private detective. Good morning, Mrs. Parsons.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X<br /> -RUMORS</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">T</span><span class="smcap">he</span> clerks in the outer office of “Craige and -Lewis, Attorneys” looked up as the hall door -opened with an unmistakable wrench and -Ben Potter precipitated himself into the room. He -brought up with some abruptness before the chief -clerk’s desk.</p> - -<p>“Take my card at once to Mr. Craige,” he directed. -“Tell him I’m in the devil’s hurry—late for -an appointment now. Thank you,” as an office boy -hurried forward with a chair. “I prefer to stand.”</p> - -<p>The chief clerk, with one look at Potter’s determined -expression, decided it was best to swallow -his dignity and execute Potter’s peremptory request. -He returned with unusual speed from the inner -office.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Craige will see you at once, Sir,” he announced, -holding the door open for Potter and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>swinging it to behind him with a sharp bang, as a -slight vent to his ruffled feelings.</p> - -<p>Potter had crossed the room before he realized -that he and Craige, who had risen at his entrance, -were not alone. His angry frown gave way to a -smile when the third man turned more fully toward -him and he recognized Edward Rodgers.</p> - -<p>“Hello, Ted, I’m glad you are here,” he exclaimed -as Craige pulled another chair for his guest before -resuming his seat. Potter sat down heavily and -tossed his hat and cane on the desk. “Say, Craige, -what the deuce does this mean?” and unfolding a -newspaper, which he had held tightly clenched in -his left hand, he pointed to a column of news, under -the heading:</p> - -<p class="center no-indent">Miss Susan Baird Wills Fortune to Niece</p> - -<p>“It means what it says,” explained Craige. “Miss -Susan Baird left Kitty an heiress.”</p> - -<p>Potter’s prominent pale blue eyes were opened to -their widest extent. “C-c-cousin S-s-susan!” he -stuttered. “That forlorn old pauper left a fortune! -Why, Craige, I fully expected to be called on to pay -her funeral expenses. You mean to tell me, in all -earnestness, that Cousin Susan had any money—”</p> - -<p>“She did not have ‘any money,’ she had a large -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>fortune,” declared Craige, laughing outright at Potter’s -ludicrous expression of bewilderment.</p> - -<p>“Then I am to understand that this newspaper -is correct in its statements?” Potter asked.</p> - -<p>“You are—” Craige leaned over and looked at -the date on the newspaper. “You are a bit behind-hand, -Ben. That paper of yours is a day old.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ve only just seen it,” Potter’s tone had -grown querulous. “I had to run on to New York -night before last—the night of the inquest, to be -exact, and Nina and I only got in this morning, having -taken the midnight train. This paper was the -first I opened when we reached home, and its account -of Cousin Susan’s will astounded me.”</p> - -<p>“It took our breath away also,” admitted Craige. -“Rodgers was with us when we found the will; in -fact it was through his agency that it was found at -all.”</p> - -<p>Potter swung around so hastily in his endeavor to -face Rodgers that he knocked his cane off the desk.</p> - -<p>“How’d you know there was a will?” he demanded. -“Oh, never mind about the cane; let it -stay on the floor.”</p> - -<p>“Rodgers had no knowledge of the will’s existence -any more than the rest of us,” declared Craige before -Rodgers, who had stooped to pick up Potter’s -cane, had a chance to answer the latter’s question. -“He happened to open a trap-door to a hiding place -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>in which lay directions, written by Susan Baird, -telling us where to find her papers.”</p> - -<p>Potter stared at his companions in unbounded -astonishment. It was some moments before he collected -his wits sufficiently to ask a question.</p> - -<p>“Where,” he began, “and how, in the name of -God, did Cousin Susan acquire her wealth?”</p> - -<p>Craige shook a bewildered head. “I cannot answer -that question,” he admitted. “It is one that -has puzzled me hourly since the finding of her will -and the discovery of her investments.”</p> - -<p>“They are all genuine?”</p> - -<p>“Absolutely; gilt edged, most of them.” Again -Craige shook his head. “Miss Susan showed rare -judgment in her investments, rare even in an experienced -man of business, and in a woman who -posed as a pauper—good Lord!” He raised his -hands and dropped them with an expressive gesture. -“In all my legal experience the whole affair, her -death, her wealth—is the most remarkable.”</p> - -<p>“Considering them together, does not her wealth -suggest a motive for her death?” asked Rodgers, -breaking his long silence.</p> - -<p>“But who knew that she was wealthy?” demanded -Potter. “Was ever a secret so well kept?” He -stopped abruptly as a thought occurred to him and -his expression altered. “How about Kitty? Was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>she in the dark, too, or was she aware that her aunt -owned a large fortune?”</p> - -<p>“She was entirely ignorant of it.” Rodgers spoke -with marked emphasis, and Potter favored him with -a heavy scowl. “Kitty Baird had no idea that her -aunt was anything but the pauper she pretended to -be. On that I’ll stake my reputation.”</p> - -<p>Potter’s scowl gave away to an expression of -doubt.</p> - -<p>“It’s odd, in fact, it’s damned odd!” he exploded. -“Kitty lived with her aunt, lived alone with -her. How could she help but know of her aunt’s -financial affairs?”</p> - -<p>“Suppose you question Kitty,” suggested Craige, -with a swift glance at Rodger’s lowering countenance. -“The girl, in my opinion, knew absolutely -nothing about her aunt’s hoarded wealth—for it was -hoarded, hoarded even from her, her only living -relative.”</p> - -<p>“Hold on there, I’m a relative, also,” objected -Potter. “She and my father were second cousins. -By the way,” with a complete change of tone, “was -there any mention of me in the will?”</p> - -<p>“There was not.” At Craige’s curt reply Potter -frowned again.</p> - -<p>“So she left me out of it, did she?” He shrugged -his shoulders with well-simulated indifference. “Did -Cousin Susan name an executor and did she leave -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>her fortune to Kitty in trust, or give it to her outright?”</p> - -<p>“She left it to Kitty without reservations,” replied -Craige. “Kitty applied to the Court to appoint -me co-executor with herself, and the court has -granted her request and permitted us to-day to take -out letters of administration.”</p> - -<p>“Is that so.” Potter reached for his hat and buttoned -up his overcoat which he had kept on during -the interview. “Do I understand, Ted, that you are -seriously trying to solve the mystery of Cousin -Susan’s murder?”</p> - -<p>“I am.”</p> - -<p>Potter rose. His usual genial manner was absent -and also his ready smile.</p> - -<p>“Has it occurred to you, Ted,” he said, and his -voice was rasping; “that the person to benefit by -Cousin Susan’s death is the one person known to -have quarreled with her during the afternoon of -the day in which she was murdered?”</p> - -<p>“What d’ye mean?” Rodgers was on his feet, advancing -toward the naturalist.</p> - -<p>“I mean,” Potter spoke with deliberation, his eyes -not dropping before Rodgers’ furious gaze. “I -mean that Kitty first quarreled with her aunt and -now most opportunely inherits her fortune—so that -she can marry Leigh Wallace, who can’t afford to -marry a poor girl.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p> - -<p>Rodgers’ powerful grip on Potter’s throat was -loosened by Craige.</p> - -<p>“Stop this quarreling!” commanded the lawyer. -“Stop it, I say,” and he shook Rodgers vehemently -as he backed him away from Potter. “Go, Ben; -I’ll join you later.”</p> - -<p>Craige did not release his hold on Rodgers until -Potter, still gasping from his encounter with the -former, reeled out of the office.</p> - -<p>“What has come over you, Rodgers?” he asked, -letting go his hold so suddenly that Rodgers staggered -backward. “Why did you fly at Potter in that -manner?”</p> - -<p>“The dirty blackguard!” Rodgers actually stammered -in his rage. “Didn’t you hear him? Why, -he had the audacity to infer that because old Oscar -overheard a wordy row between Kitty and her aunt, -that Kitty killed the old lady and so inherited her -fortune—to marry—” he choked. “Why, damn it! -There are a dozen men who would marry Kitty if -she hadn’t a cent in the world—I’m—” his face -paled, “I’m one of them.”</p> - -<p>Craige looked at him with admiring approval. “I -like your loyalty,” he exclaimed. “As for Potter—” -he struck his desk with his clenched fist. “Potter -has grown insufferable. Matrimony doesn’t appear -to agree with him.” He stepped back to his desk -and picked up his brief case. When he turned again -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>to Rodgers, who stood waiting by the door, the -gravity of his manner struck the younger man. -“There is no use blinding ourselves to the situation, -Rodgers,” he said. “It is up to us to solve the mystery -of Susan Baird’s death. If we don’t,” he -paused, “Kitty may find herself in a most unpleasant -predicament.”</p> - -<p>“The mystery is going to be solved—and quickly,” -Rodgers checked his hasty speech. “Are you on -your way to the Court House, Mr. Craige?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.” Craige followed Rodgers through the -outer office, pausing only long enough to be assisted -into his overcoat by an attentive office boy, and joined -him at the elevator. “Don’t let Potter worry you, -Rodgers; give him time to cool off. I imagine the -news that Susan Baird was a wealthy woman, and -that she never left him a red cent is responsible for -his irritability. You know Ben is rather inclined to -love money.”</p> - -<p>“Hm, yes. I can well believe that he is blood-kin -in that respect to Miss Susan Baird,” and Rodgers, -his temper somewhat restored, waved a friendly -hand to Craige as they left the elevator and went -their several ways.</p> - -<p>Once in the street Rodgers moved with dragging -footsteps toward his car, his thought elsewhere. -Suddenly he became conscious that, as deliberately -as he walked, some one just ahead of him was mov<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>ing -even more slowly. Stepping to one side, he -moved forward at a more rapid gait and was about -to pass the limping figure when a hand touched his -arm and looking down he found old Oscar by his -side.</p> - -<p>“I’se sorry, Sah, I couldn’t get out o’ your way,” -he said apologetically. “This hyar rheumatics am -mighty bad dis mawnin’, Mister Rodgers.”</p> - -<p>“That is too bad, Oscar.” Rodgers, observing -the old man’s weary air, spoke with impulsive sympathy. -“You are pretty far from home.”</p> - -<p>“Yessir. I started to do an errand fo’ Mandy, -and then I stopped to see a parade, an’ I jes’ naturally -has ter follow a band, an’ hyar I be!” The old -darky heaved a heavy sigh. “I ’spects a street cyar’ll -be along bimeby an’ carry me over to Georgetown.”</p> - -<p>“Get in my car and I will take you to ‘Rose Hill.’” -At Rodgers’ suggestion a pleased smile lighted -Oscar’s face and he showed his big white teeth to -their fullest extent.</p> - -<p>“’Deed, Sah, that’s mighty nice ob you’,” he exclaimed, -moving with greater speed to the curb. “I -kin get in, thank yo’ kindly.”</p> - -<p>It took Oscar a few minutes to get comfortably -settled in the roadster, and it was with a sigh of -genuine satisfaction that he leaned back and watched -Rodgers start his engine. His smile, which had -never quite departed since Rogers first suggested -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>taking him home, broadened expansively as they -slipped through traffic and swung into a quieter side -street.</p> - -<p>“Yo’ certainly kin drive, Mister Rodgers,” he -said, breaking the long silence. “I guess yo’ can -beat Major Wallace handlin’ a cyar.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks for the compliment, Oscar,” Rodgers -laughed. “Major Wallace has a reputation as a -speedster.”</p> - -<p>“Yessir,” but Oscar looked a trifle bewildered, -long words were not his strong point. “Major -Wallace done taught Miss Kitty ter drive.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, has he?”</p> - -<p>“Yessir.” Oscar was oblivious of Rodgers’ shortness -of tone. “Dat’s one o’ the things Ole Miss cut -up ructions ’bout. She did hate dat Major, an’ she -jes’ laid Miss Kitty out fo’ goin’ wid him.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, come, Oscar, Miss Susan did not hate Major -Wallace,” objected Rodgers.</p> - -<p>“She did, Sah, she did.” Oscar’s smile had disappeared -and he spoke quickly. “An’ she suttenly -did ’spress her mind to Miss Kitty on Sunday.”</p> - -<p>Rodgers turned and scanned Oscar closely. The -old darky looked the picture of honest respectability. -His worn clothes were neatly brushed and patched. -He sat with his battered hat cocked a trifle over one -eye and his black face shone with the enjoyment of -the unexpected treat of a ride in a fast roadster with -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>“one of the quality” as he termed Ted Rodgers in -his own mind.</p> - -<p>“Why did you tell Coroner Penfield that Miss -Susan and her niece quarreled on Sunday?” Rodgers -asked. The old man blinked at the unexpected -question.</p> - -<p>“’Cause he axed me, an’ they did quarrel.” -Oscar’s voice betrayed a strain of obstinacy. -“’Tain’t no harm tellin’ de truf, is there, Mister -Rodgers?”</p> - -<p>“No, certainly not.” Rodgers slowed down at a -street crossing and in shifting gears failed to catch -the sudden crafty look Oscar shot at him. It vanished -in a second. “How is Miss Kitty this morning?”</p> - -<p>“Tol’able well, thank yo’,” Oscar replied. “Dr. -McLean was over las’ night an’ he tole Mandy that -he wanted Miss Kitty to leave town fo’ a month; -seemed to think she needed change. But Miss Kitty, -she said ‘no.’”</p> - -<p>“Then she is not going away.” Rodgers’ satisfaction -was unconcealed. “Is she at home, Oscar?” -as he slowed up the car before the entrance to “Rose -Hill.”</p> - -<p>Oscar shook his head. “No, Sah, she done gone -fo’ de day,” he said, opening the door and clambering -with some difficulty to the pavement. “Miss -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>Kitty said somethin’ ’bout seein’ Mrs. Parsons. She -done call her up dis mawnin’.”</p> - -<p>“I thought Miss Kitty had resigned from her -secretary work.” Rodgers let his engine run and -leaned over to speak to Oscar. “Has Mrs. Parsons -been here?”</p> - -<p>“No, Sah, not since Miss Susan’s death.” Oscar -hesitated, looked up and down the empty street, then -back over his shoulder. No one was within earshot. -The old man took his hand from the car door and -rested his weight on his cane. “I kinda ’spects they -had a fight.”</p> - -<p>“They—?” Rodgers eyed him in deep surprise. -“Miss Kitty and Mrs. Parsons?”</p> - -<p>“No, Sah. Mrs. Parsons an’ ole Miss Susan. -Good mawnin’, Sah,” and Oscar stamped up the -steps leading to “Rose Hill,” deaf to Rodgers’ repeated -calls to return.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI<br /> -I. O. U.</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">T</span><span class="smcap">ed Rodgers</span> shut off his engine, sprang -from the car and in ten strides had gained -the old negro’s side.</p> - -<p>“Stop a moment!” And at the stern command -in his voice Oscar halted. “I am convinced that you -know more of Miss Susan Baird’s death than you -have admitted, Oscar, and—” his voice deepened, -“you are going to tell me the truth.”</p> - -<p>Oscar cast a frightened glance upward. Rodgers’ -determined expression was not one to encourage -evasion.</p> - -<p>“Suttenly, Sah, suttenly. Wha-what truf do yo’ -wish, Sah?” he stammered, politeness uppermost in -spite of his confusion of mind.</p> - -<p>Rodgers’ gaze grew in intensity as he studied the -old man. The latter’s eyes had shifted from his interrogator -to the mansion and his black face had -become mottled grey in color. As the silence -lengthened, Oscar’s apprehension increased and his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span>fingers fumbled nervously with his cane. For the -life of him he could think of nothing to say. The -sound of Rodgers’ voice came as so vast a relief that -at first he failed to take in what he was saying.</p> - -<p>“You testified at the inquest, Oscar,” Rodgers -stated slowly, “that after serving a midday dinner -on Sunday you left ‘Rose Hill.’ But you did not -tell Coroner Penfield that you returned here on Sunday -night—”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t, Sah—fo’ Gawd, I didn’t!” Oscar raised -a trembling hand. “I only jes’ passed along the -street down yonder—”</p> - -<p>“And what did you see?” demanded Rodgers, his -eyes sparkling. His chance shot in the dark had -told.</p> - -<p>Oscar’s answer was slow in coming. Moving -closer to Rodgers, he laid one shaking hand, knotted -from rheumatism, on his shoulder. The gesture, -half involuntary, held something pathetic in its mute -appeal.</p> - -<p>“Massa,” he began, and his voice grew wistful. -“Whose side is yo’ on? Is yo’ fo’ de police o’ fo’ -Miss Kitty?”</p> - -<p>Rodgers whitened as he met the old man’s direct -gaze. At last there was no shifting in Oscar’s eyes. -Man to man they faced each other—master and -servant—each dominated with one desire: to serve -one woman.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I would give my life for Miss Kitty,” Rodgers’ -deep voice carried conviction.</p> - -<p>“An’ yo’ won’t let no harm come to her?”</p> - -<p>“No.” The reply rang out clearly. Oscar’s harassed -expression altered.</p> - -<p>“Gawd bless yo’, Sah!” He touched Rogers’ -hand reverently. “Ole Mandy an’ me, we’s needed -help de worst way. Hadn’t nowhar to turn; now—” -he drew a long breath of relief. “Now yo’ kin find -Miss Kitty’s red coat—”</p> - -<p>“Miss Kitty’s red coat?” echoed Rodgers, staring -in astonishment at Oscar. “What in the world—”</p> - -<p>“Yessir.” Oscar blinked rapidly. “Yo’ ’member -dat dar coat Miss Kitty was so fond o’ wearin’?—I -heard yo’ an’ she argyfying ’bout it bein’ pink ’stead -o’ red.”</p> - -<p>“I know the one you mean,” replied Rodgers impatiently. -“Well, what about it?”</p> - -<p>“It’s done gone!” Oscar raised his hand and -dropped it in a gesture indicative of despair. “An’, -Mister Rodgers, we’s got ter find dat ar coat fo’ de -police.”</p> - -<p>Rodgers stared at him for a full moment. There -was no doubting Oscar’s sincerity. His face was -beaded in perspiration and his eyes, twice their normal -size, were alight with earnest appeal.</p> - -<p>“Please, Sah, don’t ax me no mo’ questions,” he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>pleaded. “Jes’ find dat coat an’ we’ll know who -killed ole Miss.”</p> - -<p>“Upon my word!” Rodgers shook a bewildered -head. “What are you driving at, Oscar?”</p> - -<p>“Find dat coat, Sah, an’ then yo’ll know all. -’Deed, Massa, I ain’t lyin’.” Oscar’s voice shook -with feeling. “Please, Sah, do as I ax. It’s fo’ -Miss Kitty.”</p> - -<p>“Very well.” Rodgers came to a sudden decision. -“I’ll do my best to aid Miss Kitty, even if I -do it blindfolded. But, see here, Oscar, wouldn’t it -be simpler to ask Miss Kitty for her coat?”</p> - -<p>“She mustn’t know nawthin’!” Oscar spoke in -genuine alarm. “She—she ain’t had it fo’ mos’ some -time—” His lips trembled a bit and he touched them -with the tips of his fingers. “The coat ain’t with -none o’ her clothes, ’cause I’se searched the house, -Massa, an’ Miss Kitty’ll be everlastin’ grateful to -yo’. But—” his voice dropped to a husky whisper—“yo’ -git it befo’ de police does.”</p> - -<p>Engrossed in their conversation, Rodgers had -failed to note that Oscar had gradually edged his -way to the top step. With an agility which took -Rodgers completely by surprise the old negro whisked -down the walk which skirted the mansion and disappeared -from sight.</p> - -<p>With an oath Rodgers pursued him down the -walk, only to reach the side door and have it -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>slammed in his face. Repeated knocking brought -no response, and after circling the mansion in the -hope of finding an entrance, if not a glimpse of -Oscar, he finally returned to his car and started for -Washington much perturbed in mind.</p> - -<p>On reaching Washington, Rodgers ran the car -toward Pennsylvania Avenue, stopping en route to -purchase a can of Mobiloil. It did not take him long -to drive to a garage in an alley to the south of the -Avenue. At his hail the owner of the small shop -came out.</p> - -<p>“How’dy, Mr. Rodgers,” he exclaimed, touching -his soiled cap. “How’s the car going?”</p> - -<p>“All right, but I want the oil drained out, Sam,” -handing, as he spoke, the can of Mobiloil to the mechanic. -“How is business?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, so so.” Sam glanced about the wide alley. -“Pull up to this side, Sir; I can get at the car better -here.”</p> - -<p>Leaving the car, after he had complied with Sam’s -request, Rodgers stood watching him for a few -minutes, but his thought would stray back to Kitty -Baird and he lost interest in both the car and the -mechanic. Lighting a cigarette, he strolled down -the alley to where it opened into Pennsylvania Avenue. -The sight of hurrying pedestrians and swift-moving -vehicles proved only a brief diversion as his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>mind again returned to Kitty and the unsolved problem -of her aunt’s mysterious death.</p> - -<p>Oscar’s conduct was a puzzle which he wanted -time to think out. That the old man knew more of -the circumstances of Miss Susan Baird’s death than -he was willing to divulge was self-evident. Rodgers -was thoroughly convinced that Oscar was devoted -to Kitty. What then, did he mean to infer by saying -that he, Rodgers, must find Kitty’s red coat before -the police secured it? In what possible way -was the coat connected with Miss Baird’s death?</p> - -<p>The blare of a motor horn almost in his ear caused -Rodgers to jump to one side as an army truck drove -out of the valley and turned into Pennsylvania -Avenue. Not having time to look where he was -going, Rodgers collided with a dummy figure placed -in front of a second-hand clothes store. As Rodgers -picked up the figure he found that its wax face had -come in contact with the pavement and was decidedly -damaged. With an impatient sigh he entered -the store and was met by the proprietor.</p> - -<p>“I knocked over your dummy,” he explained, -drawing out his leather wallet. “It got a bit damaged. -How much—?” and he opened a roll of -Treasury bills.</p> - -<p>“Wait; I’ll go see the dummy first,” and the -proprietor bustled out of the shop.</p> - -<p>As Rodgers turned to accompany him, his eyes -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>fell upon a red coat lying on the counter. He had -the faculty of carrying a color in his mind’s eye, also -of noticing minute details. The coat looked like -Kitty’s—with a single stride he was at the counter—the -coat <i>was</i> Kitty’s. It was a stylishly cut garment, -of a rough finish cloth, with large patch pockets and -a scarflike collar with fringe on the ends. To make -assurance doubly sure Rodgers examined the black -and gold buttons of Japanese handiwork. He had -admired them too often to be mistaken. How came -Kitty’s coat in that store? A voice at his elbow -caused him to wheel about.</p> - -<p>“The face is kinda mussed up,” announced the -proprietor. “Five dollars will cover it.”</p> - -<p>“Five dollars!” fumed Rodgers, then paused. -“Oh, all right—” handing him the money. “How -much is this coat?”</p> - -<p>“Twenty dollars.” The proprietor had caught -sight of Rodgers’ generous roll of greenbacks. “It’s -a nice coat; good as new, ’cept for the torn lining -and a few faded spots. It’s just what any lady would -want. She could reline—”</p> - -<p>“I’ll take it,” cut in Rodgers and the proprietor -accepted his money with a wry face. Why had he -not asked more? It was not often that so biddable a -purchaser wandered into his shop. “By the way,” -Rodgers paused in the doorway. “How long have -you had this coat?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Two—no, three days.” The proprietor paused -to consider. “The woman came early in the morning -and somehow the coat got misplaced in my stock. I -was putting it in the window on display just as you -arrived.”</p> - -<p>“Was the woman known to you?” asked Rogers. -Both men were on the sidewalk by that time.</p> - -<p>“Not she—never laid eyes on her before and -wouldn’t know her again if I was to see her.” The -proprietor was in a happy mood; not often had he -taken in twenty-five dollars so easily. “Well, I -hope your lady likes the coat. So-long,” and he -nodded affably, as Rodgers turned into the alley.</p> - -<p>There was still five minutes’ work to be done on -the car and Rodgers spent them in hurrying Sam -into completing the job without further waste of -time, and it was with a feeling of satisfaction that -he laid the coat on the seat and took his place behind -the steering wheel. He had to slow up for traffic -as he started out of the alley into Pennsylvania -Avenue. A hail close at hand caused him to look -around and he recognized the proprietor of the second-hand -clothes store approaching.</p> - -<p>“Hey! Just a minute,” called the latter, and -Rodgers pulled up at the curb and waited for him. -“Say, mister, my wife fancies that coat, so if you -don’t mind I’ll return you the twenty dollars,” and -he held out the money.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> - -<p>Rodgers eyed him in astonishment. “I prefer to -keep the coat,” he said. “Sorry I can’t oblige you.”</p> - -<p>“But, see here,” the man protested. “I’ll give you -two extra dollars. Come now, that’s fair; twenty-two -dollars. Money don’t often turn over in your -plans quite so fast, does it?” with a faint leer. -“Here’re the extra dollars.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks, but I don’t want them,” dryly.</p> - -<p>“Oh!” The proprietor looked blank. “’Spose -we make it twenty-five?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing doing.”</p> - -<p>“How about thirty dollars?” persisted the man. -“Oh, I’m no piker,” observing Rodgers’ expression. -“When I want a thing I am willing to pay for it.”</p> - -<p>“And just why do you want this coat so particularly?” -asked Rodgers, his suspicion aroused.</p> - -<p>“I told you my wife wants that coat.”</p> - -<p>“Well, she can’t have it.” Rodgers released the -clutch and the car shot down the Avenue, leaving -the dealer in second-hand clothes standing with -mouth agape, gesticulating wildly after him.</p> - -<p>It was but a short distance to the Bachelor where -he had an apartment, and Rodgers paid small regard -to traffic regulations until he reached there. -He wasted some valuable moments in finding parking -space near the building and he was in no amiable -frame of mind when he finally hurried through -the swing door of the front entrance. The elevator -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span>boy was nowhere visible and Rodgers collected his -letters from his mail box; then, tucking the red coat -under his arm, he went over to the staircase and -mounted it two steps at a time until he reached the -third floor. As he turned his latch-key and threw -open the door of his apartment he heard his name -called and whirled around. Ben Potter was walking -toward him from the direction of the elevator -shaft.</p> - -<p>“Glad I caught you, Ted,” he remarked, ignoring -Rodgers’ curt manner. Not waiting for an invitation, -he stepped into the apartment and walked -through the short hall into the large room which -served Rodgers as a combination living and dining -room. “I came to apologize for my surly behavior -in Craige’s office this morning, old man.”</p> - -<p>“Your apology is due to Miss Baird rather than -to me,” replied Rodgers stiffly.</p> - -<p>“I spoke in haste—without thought,” Potter admitted -amiably. “Let’s drop the matter, Ted. Can -you dine with us to-night? I’ll get Kitty to come -also.”</p> - -<p>“I have an engagement to-night, thanks.”</p> - -<p>Potter’s florid complexion turned a warmer tint -and he averted his gaze so that Rodgers might not -detect the sudden rage which his eyes betrayed.</p> - -<p>“Sorry; but you’ll come some other time, per<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>haps,” -he mumbled. “Nina’s greatly interested in -hearing of all that you have done for Kitty.”</p> - -<p>“I—done for her?” Rodgers turned and eyed his -companion sharply. Potter had perched himself on -the end of the lounge with the evident intention of -remaining, and was leisurely rolling a cigarette.</p> - -<p>“Sure—you have accomplished a great deal for -Kitty,” Potter affirmed with emphasis. “You found -the will which gave her a fortune. To put it poetically, -the beggar maid is now an heiress and a prey -to fortune hunters.”</p> - -<p>Rodgers’ eyes blazed. “Your remarks are offensive,” -he exclaimed.</p> - -<p>Potter straightened up. “Are you trying to fasten -a quarrel on me?” he demanded hotly.</p> - -<p>“I intend to make you speak more respectfully of -Miss Baird,” retorted Rodgers, his anger at white -heat. “If that means a fight—well, I’m ready,” and -he tossed the red coat on the nearest chair to have -his hands free.</p> - -<p>Potter’s big frame relaxed against the cushioned -back of the lounge as he forced a laugh. “You are -too damned quick to take offense,” he protested. -“Why, Kitty’s my cousin. I’d be the first to take -her part.”</p> - -<p>“And yet you insinuate—”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Nothing,” with a patience meant to exasperate. -“What are you doing with Kitty’s red coat?”</p> - -<p>Rodgers met the unexpected question with unmoved -countenance.</p> - -<p>“You are mistaken,” he said. “It is not Miss -Baird’s coat.”</p> - -<p>“It isn’t?” Potter’s rising inflection expressed -doubt. “Let me see it?” And he reached forward -a grasping hand.</p> - -<p>With a quick movement Rodgers pulled the coat -beyond Potter’s reach. The next second he was -staggering backward from a crashing blow delivered -as Potter, who had gathered himself for a spring, -swung forward upon his feet. Rage at the treacherous -attack was a stimulant to Rodgers and he -met Potter’s second onslaught with a swift right-hander. -The scientist was no easy antagonist and -for the moment he had the better of the rough and -tumble fight; then as the younger man got his second -wind he gave back and Rodgers pinned him -against the wall.</p> - -<p>“You yellow dog!” Rodgers half sobbed the -words in his rage as he shifted his grip to the man’s -throat.</p> - -<p>The movement gave Potter his opportunity. -Wrenching his right hand free he jerked a revolver -from his coat pocket and brought the butt against -Rodgers’ temple with stunning force. Rodgers -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>sagged backward, then regained his balance as Potter’s -revolver again descended on his head. With -a low moan he sank back, overturning a chair in his -fall.</p> - -<p>As Potter bent over the half-conscious man a resounding -knock at the apartment door caused him -to start upright. One hasty glance about the room -showed him that the window overlooking the fire-escape -was open. Potter’s eyes sought the red coat. -It lay on the floor, half hidden under Rodgers. -Stooping over, he seized one of the sleeves and -tugged at it.</p> - -<p>The action aroused Rodgers from his stupor and -with such strength as remained he grasped the -sleeve also. It was an unequal tug-of-war. Potter’s -cry of triumph was drowned by repeated -knocking on the door and the sound of raised voices -demanding admittance. Not daring to remain -longer, he released his hold on the coat sleeve and -bolted through the window and down the fire-escape -as an agile elevator boy climbed through the pantry -window from an adjoining balcony and popped into -the living room. He stopped aghast at sight of -Rodgers, torn and bleeding, and the chaotic condition -of the overturned furniture.</p> - -<p>“My Lawd! What’s been a-happenin’?” he -gasped. “We heered ructions an’ I got de police.”</p> - -<p>“Police!” The last word penetrated Rodgers’ -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span>reeling senses, and his eyes sought the red coat -sleeve which he still grasped.</p> - -<p>“Yes; they’re at the do’ now,” as renewed pounding -echoed through the place.</p> - -<p>“Go and let them in,” commanded Rodgers; then, -as the boy dashed down the hall, he staggered to his -feet over to the small dumb-waiter shaft which -was used to carry garbage cans, milk bottles and -packages to the apartment. But one idea was uppermost—the -police must not get Kitty’s red coat. He -had just time to open the door and thrust the red -coat down the chute and close the door again before -two policemen appeared in the room. Stars were -dancing before Rodgers’ eyes and he brushed his -hand across his forehead. He must think—think— Should -he have Potter arrested? No, he would -settle the score between them without police aid. His -hands clenched at the thought and he straightened -up in spite of the increasing sense of faintness which -caused his knees to sag under him.</p> - -<p>“What’s happened?” demanded the foremost policeman. -“Who attacked you?”</p> - -<p>“A burglar, evidently,” replied Rodgers, sinking -down in the nearest chair. “I walked in on him. -He went that way—” indicating the fire-escape.</p> - -<p>“Chase down and see if you can catch him, -Mike,” ordered the first speaker. “I’ll search the -apartment for any clues. Here—” observing Rodg<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>ers’ -half-fainting condition—“Good Lord, he’s -keeled over!”</p> - -<p>An hour later Rodgers, his cuts treated by Dr. -McLean, and finally left alone by a too-solicitous -policeman, went down into the basement of the -apartment house. He had no difficulty in locating -the opening to the dumb-waiter shaft. Looking inside, -he found it empty.</p> - -<p>“What is it, Mr. Rodgers?” inquired the janitor’s -wife, a young colored girl who acted as laundress for -the tenants.</p> - -<p>“I’m looking for a red coat which I accidentally -dropped down the chute, Cora,” Rodgers explained.</p> - -<p>“Mercy, Sir, I wish I’d known that was yours,” -she exclaimed. “It was on top of a pile of trash -and was so raggety that I just put the whole business -in the furnace.”</p> - -<p>Rodgers stared at her aghast, then, collecting his -wits, he dashed by her and into the furnace room. -The light from a hot fire half blinded him as he -flung open the furnace door. Lying on the flagging -close to the opening was a portion of the red coat—the -rest was ashes. Rodgers jerked out the piece -of red cloth, and flinging it on the cement floor, -stamped out the smoldering flames. Paying no attention -to Cora’s lamentations, he hurried upstairs, -the precious piece in his hand.</p> - -<p>Once more in his apartment and with the door -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>safely locked, he dropped down on the lounge and -regarded all that remained of the coat, as his -thoughts returned to Oscar and his fervid request -that he “find Miss Kitty’s red coat.” In what way -was the red coat involved in the mystery of Miss -Baird’s death? Why had the dealer in second-hand -clothes wished so ardently to buy it back? How -had it gotten into his hands in the first place? Above -all, why did Ben Potter wish to gain possession -of it?</p> - -<p>Rodgers’ head swam with the effort to find an -answer to the enigma. Sinking back against the -cushions, he ran his hand over the piece of red -cloth. It was the front breadth of the coat and its -patch pocket that had remained intact.</p> - -<p>As Rodgers’ fingers strayed inside the pocket his -thoughts turned to Kitty Baird—beautiful Kitty -Baird—his best beloved. His restless fingers closed -over a small wad of paper pressed deep in the coat -pocket. A second later he had smoothed out the -paper and, carrying it to the light, strove to read -the writing upon it. A whistle escaped him.</p> - -<p>“An ‘I.O.U.,’” he exclaimed. “Devil take it, the -signature’s undecipherable!”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII<br /> -A WORD OF WARNING</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">K</span><span class="smcap">itty Baird</span> regarded the butler with -astonishment.</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Parsons is not at home,” she repeated. -“Why, Oscar brought me a telephone message -from her asking me to be here at noon and to -lunch with her.” She consulted her watch. “Are -you quite certain that she is not in, James?”</p> - -<p>“Quite, Miss Kitty.” The butler’s solemnity of -manner matched his severe black clothes, which -fitted his somewhat spare form with the neatness -of a glove. “Mrs. Parsons had forgotten a meeting -of the Neighborhood House Committee, and she -left word that she was very sorry to put you out. -She said that she had no idea what time she would -be back, and that you were not to wait for her.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” The exclamation slipped from Kitty with -some vigor. “Oh, very well, James,” with a quick -change of tone. “Please tell Mrs. Parsons that I -called. Good morning.”</p> - -<p>“Good morning, Miss Kitty.” And James re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>treated -inside the vestibule and closed the front -door. As he went through the hallway, intent on -reaching the servants’ dining room by the shortest -possible route, he failed to see Mrs. Parsons standing -in the folds of the portières before the entrance -to the small reception room, which, with the large -dining room, was on the ground floor of her English -basement house.</p> - -<p>From her vantage point, Mrs. Parsons had overheard -Kitty’s conversation with her butler. Slipping -her front door key, with which she had gained -entrance some moments before, unknown to James, -into her gold mesh bag, she hurried to the small -window which overlooked the street. Taking care -not to be seen by passers-by, Mrs. Parsons watched -Kitty standing by the curb, apparently in doubt as -to whether to cross the street or not.</p> - -<p>Kitty, in fact, was debating where she should -lunch. Time hung heavy on her hands, and the -thought of the great empty house in Georgetown -sent a shiver down her spine. Neither Mandy nor -Oscar were enlivening company at the best of times, -and since her aunt’s death—Kitty shivered again. -Oscar’s morbid relish of everything pertaining to -the tragedy, his incessant harping on the subject, -had worked upon Kitty’s nerves, and except for -her appreciation of his many years of devoted ser<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span>vice, -she would have paid him several months’ -wages in advance and let him go.</p> - -<p>Mandy, since the day of the discovery of Miss -Susan Baird’s dead body, had moved over to “Rose -Hill,” bag and baggage, and Kitty had been grateful -for her watchful care. Unlike her husband, -Mandy was not given to talking and she had seen -to it that Kitty had every attention, and in her way -had done much to shelter her from inquisitive callers. -Mandy looked upon the telephone as the invention -of the Evil One, and nothing would induce her -to answer it, so that to Oscar had fallen the task -of keeping reporters away. His loquaciousness had, -however, been checked by a stringent command -from Mr. Craige to refer all newspaper men to him -or to the police. The order had been emphasized -with a hint that, if not carried out, Oscar would be -parted from what promised to be a lucrative pension. -Oscar had obeyed the order with much -grumbling, but his complaints were carefully confided -to his wife alone and fell on unsympathetic -ears.</p> - -<p>“Go ’long, nigger; don’t bother yo’ betters,” she -had responded. “Ef yo’ ain’t careful, Miss Kitty’ll -bounce us both. An’ then whar’ll we be?”</p> - -<p>Kitty looked at her watch again. She had ample -time to walk down to the Allies’ Inn for luncheon -and she would feel better for the exercise. Already -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span>the sunshine and fresh air had braced her up. Her -decision made, she waved away a taxi-driver hovering -near the curb with a watchful eye on her, and, -turning, started down the street. She was conscious -of a man passing her at a rapid walk, but with her -head slightly bent and her thoughts elsewhere, she -did not glance up. The man ran up the three steps -leading to Mrs. Parsons’ front door, stopped, -turned around and looked at her. The next second -Kitty heard her name called by a familiar voice.</p> - -<p>“What luck!” exclaimed Leigh Wallace, as she -waited for him to approach. “Where are you going, -Kitty?”</p> - -<p>“To the Allies’ Inn for luncheon,” she replied. -“Mrs. Parsons is out, Leigh; I’ve just been there.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, ah!” Wallace twirled his swagger stick -with such energy that it almost slipped from his -grasp. “In that case, Kitty, lunch with me at the -Shoreham? Don’t say you won’t,” as she shook her -head. “I must talk to you—by yourself. Don’t -refuse, Kitty, don’t.”</p> - -<p>Kitty looked at him steadily. “We can talk as -we walk along,” she said quietly. “Come.” And -her decided tone left Wallace nothing to do but -match his footstep to hers as she sauntered along.</p> - -<p>From her sheltered nook in the window Mrs. -Parsons saw Major Wallace’s rapid approach to her -front door, observed his belated recognition of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>Kitty, heard his hail, and watched their leisurely -walk down the street. An odd smile crossed her -lips as she dropped the window curtain into place -and went quietly to her bedroom.</p> - -<p>“Francise,” she said, as her confidential maid -rose on her entrance and laid down some sewing, -“tell James that I will lunch alone to-day. Major -Wallace is unexpectedly detained and has cancelled -his engagement with me.”</p> - -<p>Kitty found Major Wallace a taciturn companion, -and her efforts at conversation elicited only -absent-minded, monosyllabic replies as they walked -slowly down Connecticut Avenue. It was not until -they reached H Street that Wallace awoke from his -abstraction.</p> - -<p>“The Shoreham is down this way,” he expostulated -as Kitty continued walking straight ahead. -“You must lunch with me, Kitty, you promised.”</p> - -<p>“I did nothing of the sort,” she retorted. “You -said that you wished to talk to me and you have -had every opportunity to do so. Instead of which -you have been silent to the verge of rudeness. -Frankly,” and her voice was decidedly chilly, “you -owe me an explanation—”</p> - -<p>“That is just it,” he broke in. “Why have you -avoided me?”</p> - -<p>“I? Avoided you?” The scorn in Kitty’s voice -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>caused him to color warmly. “I have done nothing -of the sort.”</p> - -<p>“You sent word that you ‘begged to be excused’ -when I called to see you,” Wallace reminded her -bitterly.</p> - -<p>“The words were of Oscar’s choosing, not mine,” -she explained. “You came the night of the inquest, -and by Dr. McLean’s orders I denied myself to all -callers—”</p> - -<p>“But you saw Ted Rodgers?”</p> - -<p>“Well, why not?” Her color deepened, but her -eyes did not fall before his angry gaze. “It is not -your right to dictate to me about anything. And -besides,” not giving him a chance to interrupt her, -“you have had ample time to call since then.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve been ill—oh, hang it!” as a hurrying pedestrian -collided against him. “We can’t talk here. -There’s no fun in being jostled about by idiots!”—casting -a vindictive glance at the offender, who had -just made the street car he had been running to -catch.</p> - -<p>Kitty eyed Wallace sharply. Never before had -she known him so upset in speech and manner. As -she observed the careworn lines in his face and the -mute appeal in his deep-set eyes, her anger cooled.</p> - -<p>“I will lunch with you, Leigh,” she said. “But -why make such a point of it?”</p> - -<p>What answer Wallace would have made remained -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>unspoken, as a mutual acquaintance swooped down -upon them and, utterly ignoring their lack of cordiality, -insisted upon accompanying them to the -Shoreham. Once inside the hotel restaurant, Wallace -lost no time in securing a table in a secluded -corner and an attentive waiter took his order for -luncheon.</p> - -<p>“There, that’s done,” and Wallace, with a sigh -of satisfaction, laid down the menu card and contemplated -Kitty with admiration but thinly veiled. -Her mourning was extremely becoming to her -blonde beauty. “Is this story true that I hear, Kitty, -that your aunt has left you a fortune?”</p> - -<p>Kitty considered him in silence. The question -had been asked so often by friends and acquaintances -that it had lost its novelty; coming from him -it surprised her.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Craige assures me that I am no longer a -pauper,” she answered, and her tone was dry.</p> - -<p>Wallace flushed. “The papers said that you were -wealthy, very wealthy,” he persisted.</p> - -<p>“It depends on how you compute wealth,” she -said. “And how much faith you put in newspapers.” -A faint mocking smile touched her lips -and vanished. “Why this interest in my fortune, -Leigh?”</p> - -<p>“Because,” he spoke with unconcealed bitterness, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>“it puts another barrier between us. Your aunt’s -hatred, and now this, this—”</p> - -<p>“Please stop,” Kitty raised her hand slightly. -“Why keep up the farce longer?”</p> - -<p>“Farce?”</p> - -<p>“Flirtation, if you like it better,” she sighed involuntarily. -“Just an idle flirtation.”</p> - -<p>“Idle nothing! You’d have married me if you -hadn’t met Ted Rodgers,” he blurted out.</p> - -<p>“Stop!” Her tone, though low, was imperative. -“Here is luncheon. Suppose we discuss another -topic. When does Nina Potter return from New -York?”</p> - -<p>“I have no idea,” shortly. “Have a muffin, do?” -and he extended the bread plate toward her, then -relapsed into abstracted silence.</p> - -<p>Kitty’s healthy young appetite, sharpened by her -walk, did full justice to the luncheon, and, not feeling -inclined for conversation, she was content to -watch the groups of people seated at near-by tables. -One pair, obviously a bride and groom, especially -attracted her and she turned for another look at -them as they left the restaurant. When she faced -around toward Wallace again, she saw their waiter -slip a note into his hand. It was deftly done and -only Kitty’s keen eyes detected the act. Wallace, his -face devoid of expression, laid the lunch check and -a bank note on the silver salver.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Never mind the change,” he said to the waiter, -and rising helped Kitty put on her coat and adjust -her furs. “I am sorry my car is in the paint shop, -but we will get a taxi at the door.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll do nothing of the sort,” objected Kitty. -“I don’t propose to put you to all that trouble, -Leigh.”</p> - -<p>Without answering, Wallace led the way down -the corridor to the H Street entrance. “Call a taxi,” -he directed the doorman, then turned to Kitty. -“Don’t scold,” he begged. “I am going to Fort -Myer and it will not take me out of my way to -leave you at ‘Rose Hill.’ Here’s the car—” and -before Kitty could protest further, she was bundled -inside the taxi. Wallace gave a few hurried directions -to the chauffeur and then sprang in beside her.</p> - -<p>The chauffeur was evidently a novice for he -started his car with such a jerk that Kitty was half -thrown from her seat. With a muttered word -which strongly resembled a curse, Wallace picked up -her bag and muff and laid them in her lap.</p> - -<p>“The —— fool!” His face was red with anger. -“Sorry, Kitty, I have no use for incompetents.”</p> - -<p>Kitty watched him in wondering silence. In place -of a sunny temperament she found uncontrolled -irritability; instead of the steady gaze she was -familiar with, she became aware of ever shifting -eyes. What had changed her cheery companion of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>the past into the nervous, unhappy man by her side?</p> - -<p>Kitty sighed involuntarily. She had met Leigh -Wallace four months before, shortly after he was -admitted as a patient at Walter Reed Hospital, at a -“birthday party” for the Walter Reed boys at the -Theodorus Bailey Myers Mason House, and they -had become great friends. Her aunt’s dislike was -so general, so far as her friends were concerned, -that Kitty had not taken seriously her objections to -the gay and handsome army officer. When she finally -realized that Miss Susan Baird had conceived -what appeared to be an actual hatred of Leigh Wallace, -Kitty had tried to reason with her, but to no -avail. When Miss Susan Baird had once acquired -an idea, the Rock of Gibraltar was as jelly to her.</p> - -<p>Kitty had inherited some of the Baird obstinacy, -and it was that trait more than anything else which -had fanned her liking into a violent flirtation with -Wallace. She considered her aunt unjust in her -treatment of him and resented her incivility. Her -sympathies aroused, she had almost persuaded herself -that she was in love with him, and then—Kitty’s -face flamed at the recollection. Then she -had met Edward Rodgers.</p> - -<p>Time had had no place in the development of -their friendship. He had been drawn to her with -the same irresistible attraction which the North Pole -has for the magnetic needle. No word of love had -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span>ever passed his lips, but his eyes—they had pleaded -his suit more eloquently than any words.</p> - -<p>Absorbed in her thoughts, Kitty was actually -startled when the taxi stopped in front of “Rose -Hill.”</p> - -<p>“Won’t you come in?” she asked, as Wallace -helped her out of the car.</p> - -<p>“No, thanks, I haven’t time.” Wallace looked up -at the fine old mansion and hesitated a moment. -“I’ll try and get in to-night or to-morrow. Say, -Kitty, why don’t you go to a hotel?”</p> - -<p>“Do what?” Kitty’s astonishment was obvious.</p> - -<p>“Close up your house,” with hurried emphasis. -“You ought not to live there alone. What is Craige -thinking of to let you do it?”</p> - -<p>“But I am not alone,” she pointed out. “Oscar -and Mandy are living with me now. Besides—” -it was her turn to hesitate. “The police wish the -house kept open.”</p> - -<p>“They do, eh?” Wallace turned and scowled at -the mansion. “Have you heard anything, Kitty—any -new theories about your aunt’s death?”</p> - -<p>She shook her head. “I only know those published -in the newspapers,” she answered. “The -police do not make a confidante of me. Won’t you -change your mind, Leigh, and come into the -house?”</p> - -<p>“I really can’t.” Wallace walked with her up the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>terraced steps to the front door and laid an impatient -hand on the old-fashioned bell-pull.</p> - -<p>“Don’t ring!” exclaimed Kitty. “Both of the servants -are out. I have my latch-key to the side door. -Don’t wait any longer, Leigh, if you are in a hurry.”</p> - -<p>“Sure you can get in?” Kitty nodded an affirmative. -Wallace wavered a moment, glanced at the -bunch of keys which Kitty produced from her muff, -then cast a fleeting look at the walk which skirted -the mansion. “Kitty,” he stepped closer to her side, -his hands fumbling awkwardly with his hat. “Did -you and your aunt really quarrel about me on Sunday?”</p> - -<p>Kitty stepped back as if shot. “What an egotistical -question?” she stammered, with a brave attempt -at a laugh. “On the contrary, Leigh, Aunt Susan -and I had words over a matter of no importance; as -was our habit. Good-by.”</p> - -<p>“Good-by—” Wallace echoed her words mechanically, -and, without a further glance at her, ran down -the steps.</p> - -<p>Kitty watched the taxi and its solitary passenger -disappear up Q Street before turning toward the -brick walk which circled the house and led to the -large garden in the rear. She dreaded entering the -house alone. It was a feeling which she had not -been able to conquer, and she had, on the few occasions -when she had gone out, always arranged to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>have one of the servants in the house upon her -return. Mandy had asked for the afternoon off and -Oscar, not being at home when Kitty left to go to -Mrs. Parsons, had probably not gotten back in time -to be told by Mandy before her departure that he -was to await Kitty’s return.</p> - -<p>Kitty shook herself. It was not yet four o’clock -in the afternoon. It was foolish to give way to -nerves. But before turning into the walk, Kitty -took one final look down the terraced steps, hoping -for a sight of Mandy’s substantial form or old -Oscar’s halting walk. Neither was visible. As her -glance swept upward, she saw a piece of crumpled -paper lying on the step just below her. Stooping -over, she picked it up and, observing writing upon it, -smoothed out the paper. She had read the few -words it bore several times before she took in their -meaning.</p> - -<p class="center no-indent">Leigh, you are watched.</p> - -<p>Kitty turned the paper over. It was the one she -had seen the waiter at the Shoreham slip surreptitiously -into Leigh Wallace’s hand. She recognized -the delicate mauve shade of the paper—she also recognized -the handwriting. Why had Mrs. Parsons -written such a warning to Leigh Wallace?</p> - -<p>With her ideas in a whirl Kitty walked slowly -around the mansion and to the side door. It gave -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>entrance to the library. There was a perceptible -pause before Kitty unlocked the door and entered -the house. She had grown to loathe the library.</p> - -<p>Mouchette, aroused from her slumber in front of -the fireplace, came forward with many “mews” to -greet her. Kitty fondled the cat affectionately before -laying down her muff and fur piece on the -nearest chair. Going over to the chimney, she poked -the smoldering embers on the hearth into a feeble -blaze and added some kindling wood.</p> - -<p>She had a sense of chill in the room apart from -its lack of heat. She could not dissociate her surroundings -from the tragedy of Sunday. In her -mind’s eye she saw always her aunt’s body lying -inert in the throne-shaped chair and in memory she -conjured up their last interview on that fatal Sunday -afternoon. Her aunt had not spared her feelings. -What was it that she had called her—an ingrate! -And her last sentence still echoed in Kitty’s ears:</p> - -<p>“Mark my words, Kitty, if you don’t conquer this -infatuation for Leigh Wallace, it will not be you -alone who will suffer. It will kill me.”</p> - -<p>As Kitty spread out her cold hands to the blaze -her eyes again read the message written by Mrs. -Parsons on the mauve-colored paper, which she still -clutched in her fingers:</p> - -<p class="center no-indent">Leigh, you are watched.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII<br /> -BRIBERY</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">A</span><span class="smcap"> resounding</span> knock on the side door, -through which she had entered the library -a few minutes before, caused Kitty to start -violently and her hand reached out instinctively to -catch the mantel-piece to steady herself. For a second -she rested her weight against it, then, controlling -her nervousness, she thrust the mauve paper into the -pocket of her coat and with reluctance moved over -to the side door. Callers did not usually announce -their presence in that manner. Miss Susan Baird -had never permitted what she termed “familiarity,” -and no friend, no matter what the degree of intimacy, -was ever admitted except through the front -door. Her dominating character had forced respect -for her peculiarities, and Kitty could recall no one, -except herself, who had ever cared to cross her aunt -in any particular.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p> - -<p>With her hand on the door-knob, Kitty hesitated. -She was alone in the house and in no mood for -visitors. Squaring her shoulders, she pulled the -door partly open. Inspector Mitchell was standing -on the top step of the small “stoop” which led to -the brick walk.</p> - -<p>“Good afternoon, Miss Baird,” he said, bowing -affably. “Can you spare me a few minutes of your -time?”</p> - -<p>“Why, certainly.” Kitty concealed her vexation. -The inspector was the last person she had expected -to encounter. “Won’t you come in?” and she -opened the door to a wider extent. Not waiting for -him to remove his overcoat, she hurried across the -library and picking up a log from the wood basket -by the hearth she stirred the fire to a brighter blaze. -On facing about, she found the inspector standing -in front of the side door and regarding it with fixed -attention.</p> - -<p>“This door does not seem exactly in keeping with -this house,” he said, as Kitty approached him. “I’ve -never seen a finer example of Colonial architecture, -but this—” laying his hand on the upper section of -the door—“this resembles a Dutch door.”</p> - -<p>“That is exactly what it is, or rather, what Aunt -Susan had it converted into,” Kitty explained. -“Aunt Susan had a bad attack of inflammatory -rheumatism about fifteen years ago; she could not -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>leave the house and sat chiefly in this room. She -was devoted to her garden and had this side door -cut in half so that she could see outside without -having to open the entire door.”</p> - -<p>“And this panel in the upper half of the door?” -Mitchell laid his hand on it as he spoke. “Does it -open?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, it is a sliding panel.” Kitty stifled a yawn. -“The builder’s idea of ornamentation, I presume—a -door within a door.” She smiled. “And rusty -with disuse. Oscar has an objection to cleaning -brass, or anything in fact that requires ‘elbow -grease.’”</p> - -<p>“The <i>latch</i> is discolored,” Mitchell amended. -With a quick motion of his hand he released the -catch and pushed the panel backward. “But there is -no sign of rust in the hinges. Judging from the way -this panel moves, Miss Baird, it is well oiled. See -for yourself.”</p> - -<p>Kitty glanced at him in surprise before moving -the panel back and forth. Inspector Mitchell was -right; it moved with ease and totally without noise. -When pushed to the farthest, the panel left an opening -about eight inches square.</p> - -<p>“What do you think of that, Miss Baird?” inquired -Mitchell.</p> - -<p>“I’m sure I don’t know.” Kitty’s eyebrows drew -together in a perplexed frown. “We never touched -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>that panel; never had occasion to use it. This,” -laying her hand on the upper part of the Dutch door, -“we frequently kept open in the summer as we get -the southwestern breeze through it. We never use -this door as a means of exit except to go into the -garden.”</p> - -<p>“You entered by it to-day upon your return,” -Mitchell remarked and Kitty favored him with a -blank stare.</p> - -<p>“Were you watching me?” she asked with a touch -of coldness.</p> - -<p>“I was waiting in the summer house,” Mitchell -explained, ignoring her manner. “No one answered -the front bell and, as I wished very much to see you, -I killed time by strolling through the garden. Then -you don’t generally use this entrance to the house?”</p> - -<p>“No.” Kitty regarded him inquiringly, puzzled -by his persistent questions on a trivial subject. -“Only since Aunt Susan’s death. The lock on this -door is modern and the key a reasonable size to -carry in my hand bag. Perhaps you recall the key -to the front door?” she could not restrain a smile. -“It is old-fashioned—”</p> - -<p>Mitchell nodded. “I recollect its size,” he remarked -dryly. “I found it in the key-hole of the -front door on Monday morning, just before we discovered -your aunt lying dead in this room. Haven’t -any idea how the key got there then, have you?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> - -<p>Kitty turned pale. “At the coroner’s inquest I -told all that I know of the circumstances surrounding -my aunt’s death.” She faced him quickly. “Have -<i>you</i> made no discoveries bearing on the crime?”</p> - -<p>“Only those brought out at the inquest,” he replied, -with noncommittal brevity. “Come, Miss -Baird, suppose we talk over some of the aspects of -the case. I won’t detain you very long.”</p> - -<p>Taking her consent for granted, Inspector Mitchell -wheeled forward an armchair and selected -another for himself. Mouchette watched them both, -then, rising stiffly, deserted her favorite spot near -the hearth and perched herself in Kitty’s lap, her -loud purr testifying to her contentment as Kitty -passed her hands over the soft gray fur. Kitty did -not care to break the pause that followed. She was -content to remain silent and await developments. -Mitchell did not leave her long in doubt as to the -direction his thoughts were tending.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Craige tells me that you have inherited a -pretty fortune,” he began. “A very pretty fortune, -to be exact. Now, your aunt, if you’ll excuse my -directness, lived in, eh,” he hesitated, “say, genteel -poverty.” Kitty nodded somberly. Would people -never stop harping on her suddenly acquired wealth? -“Where did your aunt get this money she left to -you?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I have no idea,” she replied. “I am as ignorant -on the subject as you are.”</p> - -<p>Mitchell eyed her intently. Was it candor which -prompted the direct denial or duplicity? She appeared -unconscious of his steady gaze, her attention -apparently centered on the flickering fire, and her -hands, clasped together, rested idly in her lap. Mitchell’s -profession had made him a close student of -human nature and as he studied her face, partly -turned from him, he concluded that Kitty did not -lack strength of character and will power, whatever -her faults might be.</p> - -<p>Was her air of relaxation, of almost dumb inertia, -a cloak to hide high-strung, quivering nerves? If -he could but shake her composure, he might gain -some key to the mystery of her aunt’s murder. Mitchell -cleared his throat as he unobtrusively hitched -his chair around to obtain a more favorable angle -from which to gauge her expression.</p> - -<p>“Had your aunt a large correspondence?” he -asked.</p> - -<p>Kitty shook her head. “Aunt Susan abominated -letter-writing,” she replied. “My godfather, Mr. -Craige, attended to her few business correspondents -and I answered any invitations that came to us.”</p> - -<p>“Had you any relations living outside of Washington?” -he asked.</p> - -<p>“A few very distant cousins.” She shrugged her -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>shoulders. “My aunt did not encourage intercourse -with them.”</p> - -<p>“Their names, please?” Mitchell pulled out a -pencil and notebook and thumbed its pages until he -found a blank space.</p> - -<p>“A. J. Beekman of Detroit.” Kitty watched him -in some amusement. “Then there was rather a large -family of Smiths in Georgia—I’m sorry I can’t be -more definite. Aunt Susan, as I said before, never -cultivated her relatives.”</p> - -<p>“Did she actively dislike them?”</p> - -<p>Kitty straightened up and regarded him. “I don’t -catch your meaning?”</p> - -<p>“My meaning is clear.” Mitchell spoke slowly, -deliberately. “Did your aunt actively dislike Major -Leigh Wallace because of his relationship?”</p> - -<p>“His relationship?” echoed Kitty in bewilderment. -“He is no relation.”</p> - -<p>“I beg pardon,” with a sarcastic smile. “I happen -to know that Leigh Wallace is your cousin.”</p> - -<p>“Then your knowledge is greater than mine.” -Kitty curbed her quick temper with an effort and -added more quietly, “Whoever told you that was -misinformed.”</p> - -<p>“I think not.” Mitchell consulted his notebook -before continuing. “Colonel Marcus Holt of San -Francisco, was your uncle, was he not?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. My mother, Louise Holt, was his sister.” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>Kitty slipped her arms out of her coat which she -had kept on for warmth. The fire was drawing -nicely and for the first time she was conscious of -the heat it generated. “What prompts your interest -in old Colonel Holt? I assure you he died long before -Aunt Susan.” There was a touch of mockery -in her voice and Mitchell smiled grimly.</p> - -<p>“I am coming to my point,” he said. “Holt’s -nephew is Major Leigh Wallace.”</p> - -<p>Kitty sat bolt upright with such suddenness that -Mouchette nearly lost her balance. With an offended -air, the cat jumped to the floor and crept under -the nearest chair.</p> - -<p>“What!” exclaimed Kitty. “Are you sure?”</p> - -<p>“And therefore,” went on Mitchell, paying no -attention to her interruption. “Leigh Wallace must -be a relation of yours.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose so,” Kitty admitted thoughtfully. “But -why had Leigh never told me that we are related? -He has never spoken of being a nephew of Uncle -Marcus.”</p> - -<p>“Nor of inheriting the old colonel’s fortune?”</p> - -<p>“Fortune?” Kitty looked blank. “Why, I have -always understood that Major Wallace had only his -pay. I never knew that he was wealthy.”</p> - -<p>“His fortune disappeared, the way fortunes have -when dissipated away,” Mitchell was watching her -like a lynx, but her expression of friendly interest -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>conveyed that and nothing more. The mention of -Leigh Wallace’s name had not produced the result -he had hoped for. Kitty’s composure had not been -shaken. Could it be that she was not in love with -him, as rumor reported? Mitchell frowned. He -was not making headway.</p> - -<p>“Have you ever heard of the Holt will contest in -San Francisco?” he asked, after a brief pause.</p> - -<p>“Only in a general way. Aunt Susan spoke of it -once or twice.” Kitty settled back in her chair -again. “She never evinced any particular interest in -Uncle Marcus, and he on his part ignored our existence. -To go back to ancient history—” Kitty’s -smile was a trifle mischievous; keeping Inspector -Mitchell discussing harmless topics would prevent -his harping upon her aunt’s death, and perhaps -would hasten his departure—“Uncle Marcus objected -to mother marrying my father, and naturally -Aunt Susan resented the fact that her brother was -unwelcome to his wife’s family.”</p> - -<p>“So she nursed a grudge against them, did she?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no; she simply had nothing to do with -them.”</p> - -<p>“Then this money which your aunt left to you -couldn’t have been given to her by Colonel Holt in -his lifetime?” asked Mitchell.</p> - -<p>“Good gracious, <i>no</i>.” Kitty’s astonishment was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>plain. “Aunt Susan’s prejudices were stronger even -than her—”</p> - -<p>“Love of money?”</p> - -<p>Kitty flushed hotly. “I do not care to have slurs -cast upon my aunt,” she said coldly. “She is not -here to defend herself.”</p> - -<p>“Hold on, Miss Baird,” Mitchell protested. “You -must realize that your aunt hoarded this wealth -which you inherited; otherwise she would have -spoken to you or to some one about it. She—” -Mitchell came to a full pause, then added impressively: -“Your aunt was a miser.”</p> - -<p>Kitty’s color deepened, but the denial which loyalty -prompted remained unspoken. Her sense of -justice told her that Inspector Mitchell had spoken -truly. What other motive, except love of money, -had induced her aunt to live in poverty when she -had ample funds to enable her to enjoy every luxury -which money could buy?</p> - -<p>“Am I to conclude from your questions,” she began, -“that you connect my aunt’s hidden wealth -with her murder?”</p> - -<p>“It seems a reasonable hypothesis,” he replied. -“Take the known facts about the murder—first, -your aunt was alone in the house on Sunday afternoon—”</p> - -<p>“Was she?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Do you know anything to the contrary?” quickly.</p> - -<p>“No. But,” she hesitated, “some one must have -been inside the house as well as my aunt.”</p> - -<p>“And that some one—?”</p> - -<p>“Murdered my aunt,” looking him calmly in the -eyes. “She never committed suicide.”</p> - -<p>Mitchell regarded her steadfastly. “Can you give -me no hint of the identity of your aunt’s caller?” -he asked. “Think carefully, Miss Baird. Have you -no suspicion who <i>might</i> have murdered your aunt?”</p> - -<p>Kitty did not reply at once; instead her hand -slipped inside her coat pocket and her fingers closed -about the small slip of mauve-colored paper tucked -underneath her handkerchief, while the message it -bore recurred to her: “Leigh, you are watched.”</p> - -<p>To what did Mrs. Parsons’ warning allude? To -what <i>could</i> it allude? And why did Inspector Mitchell -invariably drag Leigh Wallace’s name into -their conversation? And what had inspired her -aunt’s hatred of Leigh? Could it have been fear? -Fear of what—Death? Kitty shuddered, then -pulled herself together. She must not let fancies -run away with her.</p> - -<p>“I know of no one who could have had a motive -for killing poor Aunt Susan,” she said. “It must -have been the work of some one afflicted with homicidal -tendencies.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’ll stake my reputation that it was no maniac,” -declared Mitchell. “The crime was deliberately -planned and by some one with nerves absolutely -under control. Look at the manner in which the -poison was administered—placed on one side of the -knife-blade, so that the prussic acid only touched the -piece of peach given to your aunt, and the murderer -ate his half in perfect safety. It was neat, devilishly -neat!”</p> - -<p>“Have you found out where the peaches came -from?” asked Kitty.</p> - -<p>“No, worse luck.” Mitchell frowned. “Very few -fruit stores make deliveries on Sunday and those -few deny sending any fruit here.”</p> - -<p>“How about the Italian fruit stands? Have you -questioned the dealers?”</p> - -<p>Mitchell smiled wryly. “Not many fruit dealers -carry peaches at this season. Our operatives have -been pretty thorough in their investigations.” He -paused before adding, “According to their reports -no one, man, woman, or child, purchased peaches on -Sunday last.”</p> - -<p>Kitty hesitated. “They may have come from a -distance,” she suggested. “By parcel post or express. -Have you thought of that?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, and we found that no package was left here -by the express company or post office employees.” -Mitchell paused to replace his notebook and pencil in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>his pocket. “No, Miss Baird, the murderer brought -those peaches with him.”</p> - -<p>“It would seem so,” agreed Kitty, thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>“And it must have been some one who knew that -your aunt liked peaches,” went on Mitchell. “Were -her tastes generally known among your friends?”</p> - -<p>Kitty caught her breath sharply. The question -recalled an incident forgotten in the rush of events. -Leigh Wallace, on the few occasions when he had -been invited to tea with them, had invariably preceded -his visit with a basket of fruit, and—each -basket had contained peaches!</p> - -<p>“I suppose our friends knew that Aunt Susan -liked peaches,” she said. Her hesitation, slight as it -was, was not lost on Mitchell. “I never gave the -matter a thought.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed?” Mitchell did not try to conceal his -unbelief. “Do you see much of Mr. Edward Rodgers?”</p> - -<p>Kitty actually jumped at the abruptness of the -question and its nature. “What earthly business is -it of yours whether I see Mr. Rodgers or not?” she -demanded indignantly.</p> - -<p>“It is not my business.” Mitchell smiled apologetically. -“It just occurred to me that he might -have mentioned the Holt will contest to you.”</p> - -<p>“To me?” in genuine surprise. “Why should he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>speak about Uncle Marcus and the contest over his -will?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know,” Mitchell whirled his hat -about. “Mr. Rodgers was called in as a handwriting expert. -It was one of his big cases, and I -thought it likely he might have talked it over with -you, seeing Colonel Holt was your uncle.”</p> - -<p>“I doubt if Mr. Rodgers knows that we were related. -From what I have seen of Mr. Rodgers,” -her color rose as she spoke, “I judge he seldom -discusses himself or his work.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps not.” Mitchell walked over to the side -door and laid his hand on the knob. “I won’t detain -you any longer, Miss Baird. If you should think -of any one who ever evinced any great interest in -your aunt’s fondness for peaches, just telephone me. -Good afternoon.”</p> - -<p>Left to herself Kitty stepped up to the fireplace -and taking out the piece of mauve-colored paper held -it suspended over the flames. But her clutching fingers -did not relax their grasp and finally she tucked -the paper in the belt of her dress. She laughed -mirthlessly as she walked across the library and felt -about for a box of matches. Inspector Mitchell, -whether he had attained the object of his call or not, -had sown seeds of suspicion.</p> - -<p>It had grown quite dark and the room, lighted -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>only by fire, was filled with shadows. Kitty passed -a nervous hand over the table ornaments—the -matchbox which usually stood near the oil lamp had -evidently been misplaced. She was about to look -elsewhere when the sound of voices reached her.</p> - -<p>“I’se done looked an’ looked,” she heard Oscar -say. “An’ I tell yo’ ole Miss never left no such -papers.”</p> - -<p>“Please, please keep up your search,” a woman’s -voice pleaded. “Please, Oscar. I’ll give you more -than I promised—a hundred dollars more.”</p> - -<p>Kitty straightened up and stared about her. The -voices sounded clearly in her ears, but surely she was -alone in the library? Running over to the tea table, -she felt about and snatched up the much-sought -matches. The next instant she was back at the lamp -and a second later the room was illuminated. She -was its only occupant.</p> - -<p>Where had the voices come from? As her eyes -roved about the library she spied the “Dutch” door -near where she was standing. The little panel in the -upper half of the door had been left open and -through it came faintly the sound of receding footsteps.</p> - -<p>Throwing wide the door, Kitty stepped outside. -In the gathering darkness no one was visible. She -paused in thought, her troubled eyes trying to pierce -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span>the gloom of the desolate garden and the empty -pathway circling the mansion. The woman’s voice -still echoed in her ears—where, where had she heard -its haunting quality before?</p><hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV<br /> -AND CORRUPTION</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">K</span><span class="smcap">itty</span> paused before her bureau and inspected -herself in the mirror. It had been -a relief to change from her street clothes -to a dressing gown. She had spent nearly an hour -lying on the couch in her bedroom trying to piece -together the puzzling events of the afternoon. On -reëntering the house she had gone at once to the -servants’ quarters; from there she had searched -every room, even to the attic. To all appearances -Oscar was not in the house. She had then waited -in the library, hoping to catch him on his entrance, -but evidently he had accompanied the unknown -woman away from the house.</p> - -<p>Kitty struck her hands together in impotent wrath -at the thought. Why had she not realized immediately -that the speakers were outside the house, and -not wasted precious minutes trying to light the lamp -in the library and thus given them time to slip away -unseen!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> - -<p>Who was the woman? Vainly, Kitty tried to -identify her voice. Strive as she did to recall where -she had heard it before, it eluded her memory. Why -should any woman bribe old Oscar to steal papers -which had belonged to her aunt?</p> - -<p>With a sigh of utter weariness, Kitty gave up the -problem for the moment and continued her dressing. -Twenty minutes later, her toilet completed, -she stopped before the cheval glass and gave a final -pat to her hair. At last, satisfied with her appearance, -she hastened into the hall. As she descended -the staircase, she heard the rattle of dishes in the -dining room and the sound of the dumb-waiter -creaking its way upward. With flying footsteps she -covered the intervening space and crossed the hall to -the pantry.</p> - -<p>“Oscar!” she called. “I wish to speak to you at -once. Come here.”</p> - -<p>But the person who stepped from the dining room -into the pantry at her imperious summons was not -Oscar.</p> - -<p>“What yo’ want, Miss Kitty?” asked Mandy.</p> - -<p>“Oscar!” She repeated the old servant’s name -with ever growing impatience. “I must see him -immediately.”</p> - -<p>“Laws, Miss Kitty, Oscar’s on his way to Front -Royal, Virginia, dis hyar minute,” explained Mandy, -in no wise hurrying her leisurely speech.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p> - -<p>“On his way where?” gasped Kitty.</p> - -<p>“To Front Royal.” Mandy lifted her apron and -produced from a voluminous pocket a much twisted -telegram. “He done got dis hyar message to come -at wandst ’cause his brother, the one dat owns a -farm five miles from Front Royal, is a dyin’. See -what dey done wrote,” and she held out the telegram. -Kitty read the typed lines with interest before -handing the telegram back to Mandy.</p> - -<p>“Why didn’t you tell me of this?” she demanded. -“Oscar had no business to leave without first speaking -to me.”</p> - -<p>“Laws, Miss Kitty, yo’ warn’t in de house an’ we -didn’t know when yo’ ’spected to be back,” Mandy -explained. “Oscar had to catch the three o’clock -train to get there to-night.”</p> - -<p>“The three o’clock train,” Kitty repeated. “The -three o’clock train <i>this afternoon</i>.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Miss Kitty.”</p> - -<p>“But—” Kitty passed a bewildered hand across -her forehead. “Oscar was here at five o’clock—here -at this house.”</p> - -<p>“Here?” Mandy’s eyes opened, showing the -whites more clearly. “What yo’ talkin’ ’bout, Miss -Kitty?”</p> - -<p>“Oscar was here this afternoon at five o’clock,” -Kitty stated, speaking more deliberately so as to -make certain that Mandy understood what she said. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span>“I overheard him talking to a woman just outside -the library door.”</p> - -<p>“Yo’ did!” Mandy’s uplifted voice as well as her -expression registered complete astonishment. “Did -yo’ see him?”</p> - -<p>“No. I tell you I overheard him talking to a -woman.” Kitty’s temper was gaining the upper -hand, and she spoke with warmth. “I know Oscar’s -voice, Mandy.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Miss Kitty,” but the old colored woman -still looked unconvinced. “Dar’s a heap o’ niggers -talks jes’ like Oscar. Is yo’ sure it warn’t dat worthless -’Rastus from nex’ do’?”</p> - -<p>“I know it was not ’Rastus,” declared Kitty, with -emphasis. “Besides, the woman, in speaking to -Oscar, addressed him by name.”</p> - -<p>“She did?” Mandy fell back a step and stared at -Kitty. “Oh, go ’way, Miss Kitty, yo’ been dreamin’—why, -’twarn’t possible. I went to de depot with -Oscar my own self an’ saw Oscar get on dat train, -an’ it done pull out fo’ Front Royal at three o’clock -this afternoon.”</p> - -<p>It was Kitty’s turn to stare at Mandy. The old -woman’s beady black eyes did not shift their gaze. -A full minute passed before Kitty broke the silence.</p> - -<p>“When did you return, Mandy?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“’Bout six or a few minutes after,” Mandy said. -“I come upstairs an’ listened to hear ef yo’ was in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>de house. I didn’t hear nuffin’ an’ didn’t see no -light, so I went back to de kitchen to get dinner. I -s’posed yo’ hadn’t come in.”</p> - -<p>“I was lying down—”</p> - -<p>Mandy’s worried expression changed to one of -relief and she did not permit Kitty to finish her -sentence.</p> - -<p>“Dar now, I ’spects yo’ jes’ drap off to sleep an’ -dreamed ’bout Oscar bein’ hyar,” she exclaimed. -“Dat was it, Honey, dat was it!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, was that it?” Kitty’s voice lacked heartiness. -“All right, Mandy. Serve dinner when it is -ready.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Miss Kitty; it won’t be a minute now. I’se -got a real tasty chicken a broilin’. Jes’ go set down, -chile; trust ole Mandy to look after yo’.” And she -gave the girl’s arm a friendly squeeze as Kitty passed -her to go into the dining room.</p> - -<p>Kitty did not sit down at once. Her thoughts -were in a turmoil as she paced up and down the -room. Was Mandy right? Had she dreamed overhearing -an unknown woman offer Oscar a bribe to -steal papers which had belonged to her aunt? Her -aimless footsteps carried her into the library and to -the Dutch door. The small panel stood open. -Kitty’s eyes strayed from it to the telephone. On -impulse she crossed to the instrument and took up -the telephone directory. It took her but a moment -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span>to find the number she wished, then she paused. -Should she call Edward Rodgers or her cousin, Ben -Potter?</p> - -<p>She had seen or heard nothing from either Ben -or his wife since late Tuesday afternoon after the -inquest, when they had stopped for a brief moment -to tell of their contemplated trip to New York and -to suggest that she accompany them. She had been -tempted to accept their invitation. A longing to run -away from the mansion which she had called home -from her earliest recollection, to separate herself -from the tragedy of her aunt’s murder had almost -overpowered her. But her sense of horror at the -crime, her determination to solve the mystery and -bring her aunt’s murderer to justice had conquered, -and she had stayed on at the old house, refusing to -follow Charles Craige’s suggestion that she engage -a trained nurse as a companion and go to a hotel. -Nina Potter had promised to telephone to her immediately -upon their return from New York, but so -far she had received no message from her.</p> - -<p>Kitty felt urgent need of clear-headed advice. -Instinctively, she took up the telephone instrument. -She had not seen Edward Rodgers since Tuesday -night when they had discovered her aunt’s will -secreted under the plaster cast of the Gila monster, -but he would come at her call—her woman’s instinct -told her that.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> - -<p>The telephone bell sounded with such suddenness -that she almost dropped the instrument. Recovering -herself she took off the receiver.</p> - -<p>“Is that you, Miss Baird?” Edward Rodgers’ -deep tones were music in her ears. “Will you be in -this evening? Can I see you?”</p> - -<p>His questions came in such swift succession that -Kitty had no chance to answer each individually.</p> - -<p>“Do come,” she called back. “I’ll be very glad to -see you.”</p> - -<p>“Righto—” The connection was poor and his -voice sounded faintly over the wires. “In about an -hour.” With heightened color she hung up the receiver -and Mandy, entering the dining room some -seconds later, found her sitting demurely at her place -at the head of the table, waiting patiently for the -“tasty” broiled chicken.</p> - -<p>During the service of the meal, Mandy kept up a -running chatter of conversation, talking on any subject, -regardless of its relevancy. Several times -Kitty regarded her in surprise; it was not like Mandy -to be garrulous.</p> - -<p>“I’ve been fixin’ to tell yo’,” she announced as she -removed the dessert plate, “dat Mrs. Potter done -telephone yo’ jes’ a few minutes after yo’ left this -mawnin’. I declare yo’ put it outer my haid when -yo’ telled me ’bout yo’ dreamin’ Oscar was hyar at -five o’clock.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Did Mrs. Potter say how she was, Mandy?” -asked Kitty, as she arose.</p> - -<p>“She had a mighty bad cold an’ I couldn’t hardly -hear what she said, noways.” Mandy advanced, -silver coffee pot in hand. “Ain’t yo’ gwine ter -take yo’ coffee?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, in the library. And Mandy, bring another -cup,” Kitty paused. “I am expecting Mr. Rodgers. -There is the bell now—”</p> - -<p>Mandy was smiling to herself as she walked toward -the front door. Her smile broadened into an -expansive grin at sight of Edward Rodgers.</p> - -<p>“Come right in, Sah: Miss Kitty’s ’spectin’ yo’ in -the lib’ry.” She hovered about while he removed -his hat and overcoat. “I’se glad yo’ve come; Miss -Kitty’s kinda peaked. It’s nice yo’ can keep her -company.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks.” Rodgers’ dry tone was totally lost on -Mandy. With a flourishing twist of the portières -in front of the library door she announced:</p> - -<p>“Mister Rodgers—” and discreetly disappeared -inside her pantry.</p> - -<p>As Kitty felt Rodgers’ strong handclasp and met -his ardent gaze, her heart beat more swiftly. Rodgers, -scarcely conscious that he still held her hand, -was unaware of the brief pause, being content to -watch Kitty’s piquant beauty.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’ve wanted to see you—to be with you,” he -stammered. “It’s been an eternity.”</p> - -<p>Kitty’s soft laugh interrupted him. “Come and -sit down,” she said. “I’m particularly glad you -came to-night, for I want your advice badly.”</p> - -<p>“You do?” Rodgers followed her to the leather-covered -lounge and sat down by her. “What -about?”</p> - -<p>“Hush!” Kitty had caught the sound of Mandy’s -heavy tread in the hall. “I’ll tell you later after -we have had our coffee. Come in, Mandy.” Kitty -raised her voice. “Bring the tray here and place it -on this table.”</p> - -<p>With Rodgers’ aid the old servant made room on -the table for her tray, then, with a respectful “good -night,” she stumped away, taking care to drop the -portières back in place. As Rodgers bent to pick up -a napkin which he had inadvertently dropped, Kitty -caught sight of the cuts on his head partially covered -by a dressing.</p> - -<p>“Good gracious! What have you done to yourself?” -she cried.</p> - -<p>“Ran head first into a door,” replied Rodgers.</p> - -<p>“Are you sure you are not badly hurt?” she asked -gravely, noting the pallor of his usually ruddy -cheeks. At the solicitude in her voice Rodgers colored -and his eyes shone.</p> - -<p>“Quite sure,” he said, then made haste to change -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>the subject. “Have you seen Ben Potter to-day?”</p> - -<p>“No. Nina telephoned to me this morning while -I was out.” She handed him her empty coffee cup -to put down. “I haven’t seen Ben since the day of -the inquest.”</p> - -<p>Rodgers hesitated a moment. “Forgive the -question—but—are you and he great friends?”</p> - -<p>Kitty regarded him gravely. “Not great -friends; we sometimes have spats,” she admitted. -A mischievous smile brought out her pretty dimples. -“Our last dispute was on the subject of deportment -and dress. I do not see how Nina stands his Puritanical -ideas.”</p> - -<p>“Doesn’t he approve of gay colors?”</p> - -<p>“Gay colors!” Kitty laughed outright. “I -should say not. Why, he nearly had a fit whenever -I appeared in my red coat.”</p> - -<p>“He is a man of queer ideas,” Rodgers commented -dryly. “The red coat was most becoming to you. -By the way, I haven’t seen you wear it lately.”</p> - -<p>“I am having the coat dyed—” Seeing his surprised -expression, she added, “Not because Ben disliked -the color, but it was too faded.”</p> - -<p>“Did <i>you</i> take the coat to be dyed?” asked Rodgers, -and she wondered at the persistency of his -gaze.</p> - -<p>“No. I gave it to Aunt Susan one day last -week.” Kitty sat bolt upright. “Dear me, I won<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>der -at which cleaning establishment she left the -coat.”</p> - -<p>“You have no idea where it is?”</p> - -<p>“Not the faintest idea in this world; Aunt Susan -never dealt long at any one shop.” Kitty shook -her head. “The events of the past few days put the -coat entirely out of my mind.”</p> - -<p>“Then your aunt was the last person to have your -coat—?”</p> - -<p>“She was certainly the last person in this household -to handle it,” she answered. “You speak as if -the coat was of some consequence—” with a quick -surprised glance at him.</p> - -<p>Rogers paused as Oscar’s warning recurred to -him “She mustn’t know nawthin’.” Whatever -the old negro’s reasons might be for asking him not -to discuss the red coat with Kitty—whether important -or unimportant—he would keep faith with the -old negro and not tell her of the incidents of the -morning.</p> - -<p>“I always liked the coat,” he declared. “Suppose -you don’t get it back—?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, the cleaners, whoever they are, will probably -send it back when it is dyed so as to get paid,” -she answered carelessly. “It is a small loss anyway -for the coat was about worn out.” She sighed involuntarily -and Rodgers looked at her intently.</p> - -<p>“Isn’t this house getting on your nerves?” he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>asked, observing the deep shadows under her eyes -which told their story of wakeful nights and frayed -nerves.</p> - -<p>“Not so much the house as the mystery,” she admitted, -with a slight shiver. “Have you discovered -any clues?”</p> - -<p>Rodgers touched a small “I.O.U.” paper safely -tucked inside his vest pocket. “Nothing of any -consequence,” he confessed. “I tried to see Inspector -Mitchell this afternoon, but he never returned to -Headquarters.”</p> - -<p>“He was here.” Kitty paused and considered her -companion. The mention of Inspector Mitchell -brought back his questions about the Holt will contest. -“By the way, the inspector asked if you had -ever told me about the law suit over Colonel Holt’s -will.”</p> - -<p>Rodgers laid down his cigarette case unopened. -“The Holt will case,” he exclaimed. “Of what possible -interest could that be to you?”</p> - -<p>“Colonel Holt was my uncle.” Observing his -surprised expression, she added, “The inspector -suggested that perhaps the fortune Aunt Susan left -to me was given to her by Colonel Holt. I told him -the idea was preposterous. Why, Aunt Susan -would have nothing to do with Uncle Marcus. To -my knowledge she never saw him. I doubt if he -even knew of my existence.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> - -<p>Rodgers selected a cigarette. “May I smoke?” -he asked, and for answer she handed him a box of -matches. “I wish you and Colonel Holt had known -each other. He was a fine old man; looked like a -soldier of the French Empire.”</p> - -<p>“Was he a friend of yours?”</p> - -<p>“I knew him slightly in a business way.” Rodgers -puffed at his cigarette until he had it drawing -nicely. “How did Mitchell come to know that you -were related?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” Kitty laughed a trifle vexedly. -“The inspector evidently informed himself as to my -relations; he even told me that Leigh Wallace and I -are cousins.”</p> - -<p>Rodgers favored the “grandfather” clock across -the library with a prolonged stare. Kitty was commencing -to wonder at his silence, when he turned -and addressed her.</p> - -<p>“So you and Leigh are cousins,” he said. “I had -not realized that before. How near is the relationship?”</p> - -<p>“We are first cousins, if what Inspector Mitchell -said is true. My mother was Louise Holt, and I -suppose her half-sister, Anne, was Leigh’s mother. -Odd, is it not, that Leigh never spoke of being related -to me?” she added, after a slight pause.</p> - -<p>Rodgers’ gaze was transferred from the clock to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>Kitty. “Was your aunt aware of the relationship?” -he asked.</p> - -<p>“I imagine not. We haven’t spoken of Colonel -Holt for years,” she answered. “Inspector Mitchell -said the law suit was one of your big cases.”</p> - -<p>“I was called in as a handwriting expert.” Rodgers -moved restlessly. “Has Mitchell discovered -any clues to your aunt’s murder?”</p> - -<p>“If he has, he has not confided them to me,” she -smiled mirthlessly. “He has succeeded in making me -feel very uncomfortable—”</p> - -<p>“In what way?” quickly.</p> - -<p>“With his suspicions,” she hesitated. “He insinuated -that—” she did not complete her sentence; -her eyes had strayed to the framed photograph of -Leigh Wallace standing on a near-by table. After -all, she could not voice her suspicions to Edward -Rodgers. For nearly a month she had been aware -of a growing coolness between the two men, and -Wallace had been at no pains to conceal his anger -whenever he had seen Kitty walking or motoring -with Rodgers. Kitty had never detected any alteration -in Rodgers’ manner to Wallace. Whatever -his opinion of the latter’s surly behavior it had -been cloaked under his customary air of good fellowship.</p> - -<p>“I have something to tell you of more importance -than Inspector Mitchell’s veiled insinuations,” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>she said, speaking rapidly to cover her change of -topic. “Just after the Inspector’s departure I was -standing here by this table,” indicating it as she -spoke, “when the sound of voices reached me and I -heard Oscar say: ‘I’se done looked an’ looked, an’ -I tell yo’ ole Miss never left no sech papers.’ And -a woman’s voice replied: ‘Please, please keep up -your search, Oscar. I’ll give you more than I -promised—a hundred dollars more.’”</p> - -<p>Rodgers threw away his cigarette and stared at -Kitty.</p> - -<p>“Who was the woman?” he demanded.</p> - -<p>“I do not know.” Kitty rose and walked over to -the Dutch door. “I tried to light the library lamp -and wasted valuable seconds hunting for matches. -When I finally got the lamp lighted, I found that I -was alone in the library and the voices had come -through this panel,” laying her hand on it as she -spoke. “I dashed outside but Oscar and his companion -had disappeared in the darkness.”</p> - -<p>Rodgers followed her to the Dutch door, his face -expressing both astonishment and deep attention.</p> - -<p>“Have you no idea who the woman was?” he -asked. “Hasn’t Oscar told you her name and why -she was bribing him?”</p> - -<p>“Oscar,” Kitty paused and looked carefully about -the library. “Oscar, according to his wife, took the -three o’clock train to Front Royal this afternoon.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p> - -<p>“He did <i>what</i>?” shouted Rodgers, then at her -startled look, he added more quietly, “Do you -mean that Oscar has left Washington?”</p> - -<p>“So Mandy told me.”</p> - -<p>Rodgers considered Kitty in silence.... Oscar -a runaway—the red coat practically destroyed by -fire—the I.O.U.—</p> - -<p>Kitty was commencing to wonder at the prolonged -silence when Rodgers spoke.</p> - -<p>“At what hour did you overhear Oscar’s conversation -with the unknown woman?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“About five o’clock.”</p> - -<p>Rodgers stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I -should say that there was a nigger in the wood-pile,” -he said softly. “You are quite sure it was Oscar -talking to the woman.”</p> - -<p>“Absolutely positive.”</p> - -<p>“Did you recognize the woman’s voice?”</p> - -<p>Kitty shook her head. “Her voice haunts me -still,” she said. “But I cannot place it. The whole -affair bewilders me. I do not know what to think, -what to conjecture. Our Oscar and Mandy, my -aunt’s faithful old servants, in league against me? -Has some one bribed them to lie and steal—and with -what object?”</p> - -<p>Rodgers did not reply at once. Suddenly he -reached over and, pressing the catch, slid the panel -back and forth as Inspector Mitchell had done sev<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>eral -hours previously. His action reminded Kitty -of the incident.</p> - -<p>“That panel seems to fascinate you men,” she exclaimed. -“Inspector Mitchell spent fully ten minutes -commenting upon its well oiled hinges and its -possible use.”</p> - -<p>“Its use?” Rodgers’ voice was of the carrying -quality, and it sounded distinctly through the open -panel to a figure crouching in the shadow of the -house. “Has the panel been used for any special -purpose?”</p> - -<p>“No, it is purely ornamental.”</p> - -<p>“Didn’t the postman ever drop mail through it?”</p> - -<p>“No. Our mail box is fastened to the front -door.”</p> - -<p>Rodgers’ gaze had strayed to the floor. Stooping -down he rubbed his hand over the bare hardwood -boards. “Your flooring is well worn right -here,” he said. “Some weight or some one has -stood here constantly. Bend closer and you will -see that the varnish is completely worn away.”</p> - -<p>Kitty followed his suggestion. “I don’t understand,” -she exclaimed, standing erect. “It bewilders -me. What does it mean?”</p> - -<p>“Some one has been using this panel—for what -purpose we have yet to find out.” Rodgers spoke -half to himself, then asked more loudly: “Have -you given all your aunt’s papers to Mr. Craige?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes—even old letters.”</p> - -<p>“Do you know their contents?”</p> - -<p>“I did not stop to read them all.” Kitty’s troubled -expression deepened. “I gave him every -paper I could find.”</p> - -<p>“I am glad Mr. Craige has them,” exclaimed -Rodgers heartily. “If he has the papers which the -woman bribed Oscar to secure for her, we can solve -<i>that</i> mystery. There is just one other question, -Miss Baird. Did your aunt see very much of Mrs. -Amos Parsons?”</p> - -<p>Outside in the shadows the listening figure stiffened -as it bent dangerously close to catch Kitty’s -answer.</p> - -<p>“Not any more than Aunt Susan could help—” -Kitty’s tired young voice held a hint of mirth as it -came through the open panel. “She abominated -Mrs. Parsons and deeply resented my acting as her -secretary.”</p> - -<p>Rodgers contemplated Kitty for several seconds, -then stepped briskly toward the telephone.</p> - -<p>“With your permission,” he said, “I’ll call up Mr. -Craige and ask if he can see us this evening.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV<br /> -BOUND IN RED TAPE</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap2">“</span><span class="dropcap">W</span><span class="smcap">har</span> yo’ goin’, Honey, at dis time o’ -night?” Mandy’s voice was raised in -shocked expostulation and Kitty could -not refrain from a smile. She had interrupted the -old servant in the act of arranging her bedroom -for the night when she had entered a moment before -and taken her heavy overcoat and hat out of -the closet.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Rodgers is going to run me over to see my -godfather, Mr. Craige,” she explained as she arranged -her veil. “Don’t wait up for me, Mandy; -I have the key of the side door and can let myself in. -You are not afraid to stay here alone, are you?”</p> - -<p>“No’m.” But Mandy spoke with no enthusiasm. -“I ain’t skeered, kexactly, but yo’ won’t be very -late, will yo’?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no.” Kitty glanced at the clock on her -dressing table. “It is only a quarter of nine, -Mandy; I’ll be back within the hour. Sit down be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>fore -the fire,” pointing to the grate where Mandy, -with solicitous forethought had built a coal fire for -her young mistress to enjoy when undressing, “and -make yourself comfortable. Don’t stay in a cold -kitchen.”</p> - -<p>“Thank yo’, Miss Kitty. I ’spects I’d ruther -stay up hyar, it’s mo’ cheerful.” Mandy walked -into the hall with her. “Mind yo’ keep that collar -buttoned up.”</p> - -<p>“All right, Mandy.” Kitty, touched by the old -woman’s care for her, laid her hand for a minute -on her rounded shoulder. “Don’t worry and keep -warm.”</p> - -<p>Mandy waited in the hall, her woolly head, covered -with a bright bandanna handkerchief, cocked in -a listening attitude until she heard Kitty and Ted -Rodgers depart and the side door closed. Taking a -general survey of the empty hall, Mandy limped -back into Kitty’s bedroom and drew a tufted armchair -up to the grate, selecting a “comfortable” -from those stored in the hall closet and wrapping -herself in it, she settled down in the chair. For a -time she was wakeful, but as the hands of the clock -approached the hour, her head drooped sideways -and a subdued snore gave proof that she had fallen -asleep. So sound was her slumber that the incessant -clatter of the bell on the branch telephone, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>which Kitty had had installed the day before, made -no impression upon her.</p> - -<p>From her corner near the fire the angora cat, -Mouchette, slumbered also. A shower of sparks, as -a piece of burning cannel-coal dropped through the -grate, singed her fur and woke her just as a figure -crept through the partly open bedroom door and into -the room. Its objective seemed to be an old-fashioned -secretary in the southeast corner of the -room. At sight of Mandy, asleep in the chair, the -intruder paused, listened attentively to her regular -breathing, then, reassured, moved onward across -the room, followed by Mouchette’s large yellow -eyes.</p> - -<p>The cat licked her singed fur, then, with a faint -“mew,” started in the direction of the secretary. A -second later a graceful leap had landed her on the -chair beside it, and she purred contentedly as the intruder -turned and gently stroked her head. In her -chair by the fire old Mandy snored peacefully, oblivious -alike of the rustle of papers being removed -from the secretary and the antics of the cat.</p> - -<p>Kitty was relieved to find Ted Rodgers a silent -companion as they drove out to Chevy Chase, for -she was in no mood for small talk. The rush of -the cold air against her hot cheeks and the steady -throb of the motor as the car raced up one hill and -down another brought a sense of relaxation and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span>rest to her tired nerves. A restless longing to get -out of the house, away from her thoughts, had pursued -her all day. The big, silent man by her side and -his air of protection were a tonic in themselves, and -she forgot her sorrows and perplexities in the enjoyment -of the unexpected trip to Chevy Chase, Washington’s -fashionable suburb.</p> - -<p>Nearly a year before, Charles Craige had purchased -from one of his clients a cottage in Chevy -Chase and had moved his Lares and Penates from -his bachelor apartment in the Hadleigh. His English -butler, Lambert, and the latter’s wife, Mildred, -ran his house for him, as they had his apartment. -Invitations to his hospitable entertainments were -eagerly sought, for he was a born host and nothing -gave him more delight than to have his friends -about him. Mothers with marriageable daughters -and widows never lost hope of catching so worthwhile -a <i>parti</i> and Craige had been reported engaged -upon numerous occasions. Kitty had always entertained -a genuine affection for her godfather, to -whose kind offices she had owed many attentions -upon her début in Washington society. It was he -who had introduced her to Mrs. Parsons, and -through his suggestion the gay widow had secured -Kitty as her social secretary.</p> - -<p>In what seemed an incredibly short time to Kitty, -Ted Rodgers drove his roadster under the <i>porte-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>cochère</i> -of “Hideaway.” Lambert came immediately -in answer to Kitty’s ring, and his usually -solemn manner thawed at the sight of her.</p> - -<p>“The master will be ’ere in a moment,” he explained, -helping them off with their wraps. “Just -step into the living room, Miss Kitty. I ’ave a -fresh fire laid there. Mr. Craige told me you were -h’expected.”</p> - -<p>The living room always aroused Ted Rodgers’ -admiration, for it represented his idea of comfort -combined with good taste. Craige had a love of -art and an appreciation of the beautiful and ample -means to gratify both. In furnishing his house, -he had spared no expense.</p> - -<p>“Aunt Susan was very fond of this room,” Kitty -said as she wandered about examining the paintings -on the walls. “She and Mr. Craige were great -cronies. In fact,” and Kitty’s smile showed each -pretty dimple, “he was about the only man she -approved of.”</p> - -<p>“So she told me,” Rodgers’ smile was fleeting. -“I wasn’t in her good graces—” he stooped to pick -up the fire-tongs which Lambert had inadvertently -left lying on the floor before the brass fender when -hurrying to answer the front door bell. “Your aunt -gave me to understand at our last interview that I -was <i>persona non grata</i>. Had she lived,” Rodgers -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span>paused and looked at Kitty, “I imagine she would -have tried to turn you against me.”</p> - -<p>Kitty blushed. “It wasn’t you in particular,” she -began impulsively. “Aunt Susan was frequently -discourteous to my friends. There were none she -liked when she found they—they—that is, that they -liked me.” She laughed to cover her confusion.</p> - -<p>“They wished to marry you—as I do—” the -words caught her unawares. “Kitty, my darling,” -he pleaded. “Don’t turn from me; give me a chance. -I’ve loved you so silently, so deeply—” his voice -shook with feeling. “You have grown to be my -life—my religion—”</p> - -<p>“Hush!”</p> - -<p>“No; you must hear me, Kitty.” He was pale -with the intensity of his emotion. “I thought that -I could be content just to see you—to be with you; -but it has gone beyond that. I must <i>know</i> if there -is a chance for me. Is there, my dearest? I know -that I am unworthy—”</p> - -<p>Kitty’s heart was beating to suffocation as she -turned bravely and faced him. She had flirted -many a time before and had turned aside a proposal -with light-hearted banter, but her coquetry had deserted -her utterly.</p> - -<p>“Ted!” she whispered.</p> - -<p>“Kitty!” In an instant his arms were about her. -“Kitty!” His voice deepened. “My best be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>loved—” -and as she raised her head to look into his -eyes their lips met in the first kiss of love.</p> - -<p>Forgetful of all else save each other, the lovers -were brought back to the everyday world and their -surroundings by a determined cough. Looking -hastily around, Kitty spied Charles Craige regarding -them from the doorway.</p> - -<p>“Sorry to interrupt,” he said dryly; then as Kitty -ran to him, her eyes like twin stars and the rich color -mantling her cheeks, his manner altered and his tone -grew tender. “Dear child, in so far as I may, I give -you a father’s blessing. Rodgers, you are to be -congratulated,” and his hearty handshake emphasized -his words. His eyes strayed to a large portrait -photograph of Mrs. Amos Parsons which was -the chief ornament on the mantel-piece. “I can understand -and appreciate your happiness,” he added. -“I hope some day soon to tell you I have won the -dearest woman in the world—”</p> - -<p>“Except one—” broke in Rodgers, glancing -proudly at Kitty.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps so,” agreed Craige cheerily. “And -when is the engagement to be announced?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, don’t say a word about it, please,” Kitty -begged; then, with a quick shy glance at Rodgers, -“We must keep the secret until the mystery surrounding -Aunt Susan’s death is solved.”</p> - -<p>“It makes a double incentive to clear up the case,” -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>declared Rodgers. “Come, Kitty, sit by the fire and -I’ll explain to Craige the errand which brought us -to see him to-night.”</p> - -<p>Obediently, Kitty curled herself up on the big -sofa which stood facing the huge open fireplace. -Her unhappy restlessness had deserted her. In its -stead a feeling of peace, of renewed courage and -unutterable happiness encompassed her, and she was -content to sit idly by and watch the two men. As -they stood with their backs to the fire, she was -struck by their distinguished appearance. Craige, -with his iron-grey hair and dark moustache, was -the handsomer of the two, but Kitty decided that -Rodgers’ more rugged features, offset by the deep -dimple, almost a cleft in his chin, indicated the more -determined character. His dark hair was inclined -to curl, in spite of every effort on his part to keep it -straight, and Kitty liked its wavy appearance better -than the severe style which Craige preferred. As -Craige held a match to Rodgers’ cigar she was surprised -by their similarity in height. Had any one -asked her she would have said that Rodgers was the -heavier and the taller by a quarter of an inch.</p> - -<p>“This afternoon,” Rodgers had waited to commence -his explanation of their call until his cigar -was drawing nicely. “Kitty overheard an unknown -woman bribe Oscar to steal some papers which had -belonged to her aunt, Miss Susan Baird.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> - -<p>“That is interesting,” Craige pulled his mustache -thoughtfully. “You say the woman was unknown. -Describe her appearance, Kitty.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t, for I did not see her,” she explained. -“The woman had gone when I looked into the garden, -and Oscar with her.”</p> - -<p>“Then you haven’t questioned Oscar?”</p> - -<p>“Oscar,” Kitty spoke more slowly, “according -to Mandy, Oscar was on the train to Front Royal -this afternoon, but I can swear that it was Oscar I -heard; also the woman called him by name.”</p> - -<p>“Then it must have been Oscar,” Craige commented -dryly. “And Mandy lied to you.”</p> - -<p>“What could have been her object?” asked Kitty. -“She must realize that we can trace Oscar’s whereabouts.”</p> - -<p>“That is already being done by the police,” Rodgers -put in quickly. “I called up Inspector Mitchell -from your house, Kitty, while you were upstairs -getting your wraps, and told him that Oscar had -disappeared. He promised to try and locate the old -man at once.”</p> - -<p>“Good!” Craige’s tone spoke his satisfaction. -“Now, as to the woman, did her voice give you no -clue to her identity, Kitty?”</p> - -<p>“No, I could not place it—” Kitty hesitated. “But -I am convinced that I have heard her voice before.”</p> - -<p>“Very likely,” agreed Craige. “It must have -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>been some one who knew your aunt, and therefore -is probably acquainted with you, also. Now, what -papers could she have wanted?”</p> - -<p>“That is the question which has brought us to see -you,” Kitty explained. “Yesterday I gave you the -contents of Aunt Susan’s desk—”</p> - -<p>“Her papers are here—” As he spoke, Craige -went over to a table and pulling out one of the -drawers, carried it back to the sofa and put it down -by Kitty. “Hereafter I will keep all Susan’s papers -in my office vault, now that I know some one is -vitally interested in gaining possession of them.”</p> - -<p>“Have you looked them over?” questioned Rodgers.</p> - -<p>Craige nodded assent. “They are receipted bills -for taxes, marketing, and so forth. See, Kitty,” -holding up a bundle neatly tied with red tape. “Your -aunt was very methodical.”</p> - -<p>“She was indeed,” Kitty sighed as she untied one -of the bundles. “Suppose we each take a package -and run through it.”</p> - -<p>Silence prevailed while the packages were being -opened and gone over with a thoroughness which -omitted nothing. Kitty’s nimble fingers made -quicker work of the knotted red tape and therefore -to her fell the last bundle in the drawer. As she -turned over the commonplace receipted bills, most -of them for groceries and coal, she thought bitterly -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span>of the frugality which she and her aunt had needlessly -practiced, and of the years she had spent in -denying herself pleasures which the average American -girl accepts, not as luxuries, but as necessities. -Expert bank officials had estimated the negotiable -securities and money left by her aunt as totalling -over eight hundred thousand dollars—nearly a million—and -her aunt had lived a life of genteel poverty -during all the years that Kitty could remember.</p> - -<p>As Kitty sorted the bills in her lap, a small envelope, -yellow and worn with age, tumbled out. She -opened it and, unfolding the old-fashioned note -paper, read the cramped penmanship with some difficulty.</p> - -<p>“This is evidently a love letter addressed to Aunt -Susan,” she exclaimed. “Listen,” and she read -aloud:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p class="right"><span class="smcap">Richmond, Va.</span>, April 1, 1867.</p> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="smcap">My Darling Susan</span>:</p> - -<p>I have called upon your mother and disclosed my -affection for you, and she has graciously given me -permission to marry you.</p> - -<p>I hope that I may never meet with your disapprobation.</p> - -<p>Transported with joy and expectation, I am</p> - -<p class="right2">Your fond lover,</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">James Leigh Wallace</span>.</p></div> - -<p>Kitty looked at her companions in wide-eyed as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>tonishment. -“James Leigh Wallace,” she repeated. -“Who could that be?”</p> - -<p>“Leigh Wallace’s father,” Rodgers replied. “I -knew the old man. But—” he paused, “that James -Leigh Wallace married Colonel Holt’s sister, Anne -Holt.”</p> - -<p>Craige completed his examination of old receipts -and retied the bundle. “Do you suppose, Kitty, -that your aunt could have been secretly married?” -he asked.</p> - -<p>For answer Kitty held up a small object and a -newspaper clipping which she had taken a second -before from the envelope containing the love letter.</p> - -<p>“It is a withered rose,” she said softly, holding it -out in the palm of her hand. “And this—” she -opened the clipping—“the notice of the marriage in -San Francisco of Anne Holt to James Leigh Wallace, -on April 1, 1869.” She looked up in wonder. -“See, here at the bottom of the clipping is written -one word in Aunt Susan’s handwriting—‘jilted!’”</p> - -<p>Craige was the first to speak.</p> - -<p>“It is not surprising that Miss Susan Baird hated -young Leigh Wallace,” he remarked quietly. “She -was not the type of woman to forgive an injury or -forget an insult.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI<br /> -A STARTLING ENCOUNTER</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">T</span><span class="smcap">ed Rodgers</span> ran down the three steps -leading to the <i>porte-cochère</i> of “Hideaway,” -and opened the door of his car.</p> - -<p>“Wouldn’t you like to drive?” he asked, turning to -Kitty standing in the doorway with Charles Craige. -Kitty’s hesitation was brief.</p> - -<p>“Indeed I would!” she exclaimed. “I feel all -keyed up—”</p> - -<p>Craige smiled indulgently. “Get as much pleasure -as you can,” he advised. “You deserve the good -things of life, Kitty. Now, put your aunt’s tragic -death out of your mind—for to-night, at least,” observing -her sober expression. “I will see you to-morrow -and we will make a further search among -your aunt’s belongings for the papers wanted so -mysteriously. Rodgers, take good care of her,” and -he waved his hand in farewell as Kitty started the -car down the driveway.</p> - -<p>Craige’s picturesque cottage, “Hideaway,” concealed -from its neighbors by tall box hedges, was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>located on a street near Chevy Chase Circle, and, as -their car made the turn around it, Rodgers bent -closer to Kitty.</p> - -<p>“Let’s run through Rock Creek Park,” he coaxed. -“It isn’t very much further, and—” his voice grew -very tender. “I want so to talk to you all by yourself.”</p> - -<p>Kitty wavered a moment in doubt. She had -promised Mandy to return within the hour—but she -had already stayed more than an hour at her godfather’s -home. Probably Mandy had long since -gone to bed. Rodgers’ hand on her’s settled her -hesitation as, with tender clasp, he turned the steering -wheel toward the road leading into the park.</p> - -<p>The heavy wind of the early evening had died -down and as they sped down the moonlit road -Kitty’s cup of happiness seemed filled to the brim. -They drove in silence—the silence of perfect companionship -and understanding—each content with -the other’s presence and their thought of one another.</p> - -<p>“Stop here a moment; the view over the Park is -wonderful.” Rodgers leaned forward and pushed -up the windshield to the farthest limit. “You can -see better now.” But when Kitty slowed down at -the side of the road she found him regarding her -and not the moonlight on the rolling hills and valley -before them.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You meant it, Kitty; you <i>do</i> care for me?” he -asked wistfully. “Really care?”</p> - -<p>Kitty’s soft laugh held happiness behind it. “I -care so much—” her voice dropped to a mere whisper -and he had to lean still closer to catch what she -said. “My love is yours, always—always.”</p> - -<p>Rodgers held her in close embrace. “My beloved,” -he murmured and he kissed her with a -fervor which left her breathless.</p> - -<p>“Ted,” she said, a little later. “Aunt Susan’s -love letter haunts me. It told a pitiful story.”</p> - -<p>He nodded soberly. “Perhaps that is what -warped her nature,” he suggested. “James Leigh -Wallace was an out-and-out scoundrel. He gambled -his soul away—anything to gain money to lose in -some gambling hell.”</p> - -<p>“I never heard of him before,” she replied. “Now -I understand Aunt Susan’s antipathy to his son. I -thought it unreasoning dislike. Leigh—” she hesitated.</p> - -<p>“I’ve been so jealous of Leigh,” Rodgers confessed. -“Every one thought you were engaged.”</p> - -<p>“People are such idiots!” she ejaculated, then -added almost in a whisper, “It was always you, -dear, never Leigh, that I cared for. He was with -me because—because Nina Potter and I were together.”</p> - -<p>A low whistle escaped Rodgers. “By jove!” he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span>exclaimed. “I did hear some time ago that Leigh -was attentive to a Miss Underwood—it never -dawned on me that she was the one who married -Ben Potter.”</p> - -<p>“Did you know Leigh very well in San Francisco?” -asked Kitty.</p> - -<p>“Pretty well, before he entered the army—civilian -appointment, you know,” he added. “I used to -see him frequently at Mrs. Parsons’ home in San -Francisco. By the way, Ben was a great friend of -hers in those days.”</p> - -<p>“Who, Mrs. Parsons—?” quickly.</p> - -<p>“Yes—some people thought she might marry -him.”</p> - -<p>Kitty smiled. “The idea is droll,” she commented. -“Ben has chosen a much more suitable wife. I cannot -imagine Mrs. Parsons and Ben in love with -each other; they are such opposite natures. But, -dear,” turning troubled eyes toward him, “you say -Mrs. Parsons and Leigh were good friends—there’s -something I must tell you. Just vague suspicions,” -she hesitated. “I cannot bear to be disloyal—to -harbor suspicions against a man I have called my -friend, but—” she took from her pocket a piece of -mauve-colored paper—“I lunched with Leigh to-day -at the Shoreham and our waiter slipped this -paper into his hand. Leigh carelessly dropped it on -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>my doorstep, and not realizing what I was doing, -I read it.”</p> - -<p>Rodgers took the paper and, holding it under the -dash-light, peered at the writing. “Leigh, you are -watched,” he read the words aloud and then reversed -the paper.</p> - -<p>“There is nothing else on it,” Kitty explained. -“But the message is in Mrs. Parsons’ handwriting.”</p> - -<p>In the darkness Kitty failed to see Rodgers’ odd -expression. After waiting vainly for some comment, -she added, “Do you suppose that Mrs. Parsons -suspects Leigh is in some way responsible for -Aunt Susan’s death?”</p> - -<p>“That might be inferred.” Rodgers folded the -paper and placed it carefully in his leather wallet. -“With your permission, I’ll keep this.”</p> - -<p>“Certainly, Ted.” Kitty put her foot on the self-starter. -“I am only too thankful to give it to you and -to have you, dear, to confide in.” He returned her -warm handclasp with a grip that hurt. “But, Ted, -how is it that Mrs. Parsons knows that the police are -watching Leigh?”</p> - -<p>“The police?” echoed Rodgers. “Oh, ah, yes. -Perhaps she has had another call from Inspector -Mitchell; I saw him coming away from there yesterday.”</p> - -<p>“But why in the world should he confide in Mrs. -Parsons?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I don’t know—” Rodgers was frowning in the -darkness, and Kitty, intent on starting the car, did -not notice the alteration in his voice. “I don’t know -why any one puts trust in Mrs. Parsons.”</p> - -<p>“Why, Ted!” Kitty looked at him in surprise. “I -never knew you disliked Mrs. Parsons.”</p> - -<p>“I have no use for her,” he admitted. “I never -did like cats—even your Mouchette.”</p> - -<p>“Imagine putting Mrs. Parsons in a class with -Mouchette,” Kitty chuckled, then grew grave. “Ted, -you don’t suppose, really suppose, that Leigh could -have killed Aunt Susan, a defenceless old lady.”</p> - -<p>“With a serpent’s tongue.” The words were no -sooner spoken than Rodgers regretted them. “Forgive -me, darling—”</p> - -<p>“I know poor Aunt Susan was not loved—.” A -sigh escaped Kitty. “Can it be that Aunt Susan -quarreled with Leigh over his father’s treatment of -her—”</p> - -<p>“It might be,” Rodgers’ tone was grave. “But so -far we do not even know that Leigh was at your -house on Sunday afternoon. Don’t brood over the -tragedy, Kitty: forget it, for to-night, at least. -Here’s a clear stretch of road ahead—step on the -gas.”</p> - -<p>Instinctively, Kitty followed his suggestion and -the car shot ahead. The wind fanned their cheeks -through the opened windshield, and Kitty was con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span>scious -of a feeling of exhilaration as they tore onward, -gathering speed with each throb of the powerful -engine. In the distance Kitty descried a car approaching -and dimmed her headlights. The courtesy -was not returned; instead a spotlight swung -directly on them and Kitty, blinded by the glare, -swerved to the right as the oncoming car swept up. -She heard a deafening report, something swished -by her, and the car raced up the road they had just -traversed.</p> - -<p>Checking the speed of her own car, Kitty swung -it back into the center of the road and turned, white-lipped, -to Rodgers.</p> - -<p>“How dare they drive like that!” she gasped. -“They must be drunk or cra—” Her voice failed -her at sight of Rodgers sitting huddled back in the -car—there was something unnatural in his pose -which chilled the blood in her veins. “Ted!”</p> - -<p>Her call met with no response.</p> - -<p>Slowly she put out her hand and touched his -shoulder; then her hand crept upward to his face -and forehead. What she touched felt moist and -sticky. She jerked her hand downward so that the -light from the dash-lamp fell upon it. It was covered -with blood.</p> - -<p>There was a sound of a thousand Niagaras roaring -in her ears as she brought the roadster to a -standstill and turned to Rodgers. Bending down -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span>she pressed her ear over his heart—its feeble beat -reassured her—he was still alive.</p> - -<p>Kitty searched frantically for her handkerchief -and for his. Tying them together she bound his -wound as best she could; then with compressed lips -and in breathless haste she started the car headlong -for Washington. As they tore madly down the -road, one question only throbbed through her aching -head:</p> - -<p>Who had shot her lover?</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII<br /> -“K. B.”</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">I</span><span class="smcap">nspector Mitchell</span> looked at the policeman -standing in front of his desk with -approval.</p> - -<p>“You have done well, Donovan,” he exclaimed.</p> - -<p>“Exactly at what hour was Major Leigh Wallace -seen leaving ‘Rose Hill’ on Sunday afternoon?”</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Murray claims that it was about five -o’clock or a little after,” Donovan replied, consulting -his notes.</p> - -<p>“And why hasn’t she reported this before?”</p> - -<p>“She’s been ill with the grippe, and all news of the -murder was kept from her,” the policeman answered. -“She told her boy to-day, after learning -about Miss Baird’s death, to watch for me when I -was on my beat. I went over to see her the moment -my relief came. It wasn’t an hour ago,” looking at -the office clock which registered half-past nine, “Mrs. -Murray said she would be glad to talk to you to-morrow, -but to-night she feels too weak.”</p> - -<p>“Which is her house?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p> - -<p>“The one next to the Baird mansion on the east—this -way—” Donovan moved his hands about to -demonstrate his sense of direction. “It’s the house -you have to pass to return to Washington.”</p> - -<p>“Was Major Wallace in his car on Sunday afternoon?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir, he was walking.” Donovan waited a -moment before adding, “Mrs. Murray swears she -knows Major Wallace well by sight; that she’s seen -him too often waiting for Miss Kitty Baird to be -mistaken. She was just stepping into her front walk -when the Major brushed by her in such a devil of a -hurry that he nearly knocked her down.”</p> - -<p>Mitchell closed the drawers of his desk, locked -them, and arose. “That is all now, Donovan,” he -said. “Report at once if you obtain any further -information. Don’t wait to come in person, telephone.”</p> - -<p>“All right, Inspector,” and saluting, Donovan -hurried away. The door had hardly closed after -him before it opened to admit a plain clothes detective.</p> - -<p>“Well, Welsh, what luck?” Mitchell asked eagerly.</p> - -<p>“An old colored man did board the three o’clock -train this afternoon for Front Royal, Inspector,” -he reported. “The gatekeeper and one of the por<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>ters -declared that he answered the description you -furnished.”</p> - -<p>“Was a woman with him?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir; not that I can find out. Every one -swears that the old man was alone.”</p> - -<p>Mitchell considered the answer in silence. “There -is nothing for it but a trip to Front Royal,” he said -finally. “Go there, Welsh, and find out if Oscar -Jackson arrived there to-day on the <i>three o’clock</i> -train—no later train, mind you—from Washington. -I understood Mr. Rodgers to say that Oscar is from -Front Royal and has relatives living in its vicinity. -Therefore he is known and I don’t anticipate that -you will have difficulty in locating him. Keep me -informed by telephone.”</p> - -<p>“Very good, Inspector.” Welsh paused half way -to the door as a thought struck him. “Did you get -a message from Mr. Benjamin Potter?”</p> - -<p>“No. What did he want?”</p> - -<p>“He didn’t say.” Welsh again started for the -door. “Just asked to have you call him up. Wasn’t -his wife one of the witnesses at the Baird inquest?”</p> - -<p>“She was—” Mitchell was already reaching for -the telephone directory. “As you go out, Welsh, -tell Allen to bring my car around at once.”</p> - -<p>Getting the Potter apartment on the telephone was -more difficult than Mitchell expected; the naturalist -used a private wire and it was only by virtue of his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>office that Mitchell was supplied with the number by -“Information.” Another wait ensued as Central -claimed the wire “busy,” and it was with perceptible -irritation that the Inspector answered the hoarse, -“Hello,” that finally responded to his repeated calls.</p> - -<p>“Can I speak to Mr. Potter?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Potter is out—” a violent cough interrupted -the speaker. “Is there any message?”</p> - -<p>“Who is speaking?”</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Potter.”</p> - -<p>“I beg pardon, Madam.” Mitchell moderated his -voice. “This is Detective Headquarters—Inspector -Mitchell on the ’phone. Your husband left word for -me to telephone to him. Do you know what he -wished?”</p> - -<p>“No.” The curtness of her tone annoyed Mitchell.</p> - -<p>“When will your husband return?” he asked, -raising his voice.</p> - -<p>“Very soon, I imagine.” There was a pause, and -Mitchell concluded she was consulting her watch, -for she went on, “It is nearly ten o’clock. Shall I -have Mr. Potter call you?”</p> - -<p>Mitchell considered before replying. “No. I -may have to go out, so I will ring him up. Thank -you, Madam; good night.” He barely caught her -hoarsely echoed “Good night,” before hanging up -the receiver.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p> - -<p>Mitchell paused to jot down the Potters’ telephone -number in his notebook, then, securing his hat and -overcoat, made for the street. Only pausing to exchange -a hasty greeting with a brother officer, he -jumped into the police car.</p> - -<p>“The Baird house in Georgetown, Allen,” he -directed, and sat in impatient silence as they whirled -through the city streets. He was tired of inaction. -Whatever the hour he could not rest until he had -interviewed Kitty Baird. Mitchell had gained his -promotion to inspector through ability, backed by -dogged determination. He had early decided that -the mystery of Miss Baird’s murder could best be -solved through watching Kitty Baird and, as he had -expressed it earlier that evening to Coroner Penfield, -“wringing the truth from her.”</p> - -<p>“She benefited by her aunt’s death and, by heaven, -she is the only one living who did,” he had declared. -“And it stands one hundred to one that if she doesn’t -actually know who bumped her aunt off, she can -make a mighty accurate guess.”</p> - -<p>Mitchell’s temper did not cool down on his arrival -at “Rose Hill,” but on the contrary gathered heat -as he stood before the front door and rang the bell -with increasing vigor as the minutes lengthened. -The door was finally opened a tiny bit, and through -the crack a pair of beady black eyes peered at him -in the uncertain light.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Who’s dar?” demanded Mandy, her trembling -tones belying her belligerent attitude as she braced -herself so as to shut the door in case the caller -pushed against it.</p> - -<p>“Inspector Mitchell,” the latter announced briefly. -“Let me in, Mandy.”</p> - -<p>Slowly the door was pulled open, but it was not -until the old servant could distinguish Mitchell’s -features with the aid of the hall light that she -stepped aside and allowed him to enter.</p> - -<p>“What yo’ want?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“To see Miss Kitty Baird.”</p> - -<p>“At this time o’ night?” in scandalized surprise.</p> - -<p>“That’s all right about the hour,” with marked -impatience. “Go tell her I am here.”</p> - -<p>Mandy wavered—the power of the law as represented -by a policeman, not to mention an inspector, -loomed large in her vision.</p> - -<p>“Miss Kitty am out,” she announced briefly.</p> - -<p>“At this hour?” Mitchell smiled skeptically. “Go -call her, Mandy.”</p> - -<p>“’Deed I’se tellin’ yo’ de truff,” she protested. -“She went out wif Mister Edward Rodgers early in -de evenin’, an’ she ain’t come back, ’cause I’se been -awaitin’ up fo’ her.”</p> - -<p>Mitchell stared at Mandy, then, putting out his -hand, shut the front door.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Go to bed,” he said, not unkindly. “I’ll wait -here and let Miss Baird in when she returns.”</p> - -<p>But Mandy did not budge. “Yo’ means well,” -she said, somewhat mollified. “But I cain’t go to -bed ’till Miss Kitty gets in. If yo’ care to set awhile, -come right in to de lib’ry.”</p> - -<p>Mitchell stopped her as she turned to go down the -hall. “Let me stay in the parlor,” he said. “I can -see Miss Baird and Mr. Rodgers when they drive -up. I wish to speak to Mr. Rodgers as well as Miss -Baird, and he may leave without entering the -house.”</p> - -<p>Mandy retraced her steps to a closed door. “De -parlor’s been kep’ shut up so long I ’spects yo’ll -freeze,” she said. “Dar ain’t much heat comes in -hyar from de furnace.”</p> - -<p>“That’s all right; I’ll keep on my overcoat.” Mitchell -stepped briskly into the room. “Let me light -the gas, Mandy,” as the old servant fumbled with -the gas fixture, stiffened from lack of use. “Run -along, now.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir,” but Mandy lingered by the door. “I’ll -be up in Miss Kitty’s bedroom—jes’ fetch a yell ef -yo’ needs me, Mister Inspector.”</p> - -<p>As he listened to Mandy’s halting footsteps growing -fainter and fainter as she climbed wearily upstairs, -Mitchell contemplated the large square room -filled with “period” furniture. The old brocades -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>were shabby and the rugs worn, but there was an -indefinable atmosphere of the refinement of a bygone -generation which time and neglect had not destroyed.</p> - -<p>Mitchell raised the shades in the windows overlooking -Q Street and peered outside. No automobile -except his own, waiting at the curb, was in -sight. Satisfied on that point, he opened the window -ever so slightly that he might be sure and hear -a car drive up to the door, and then, to occupy his -time, he wandered about the room and examined the -many pieces of bric-a-brac on the mantel and in -cabinets.</p> - -<p>One cabinet in particular attracted his attention. -It was a fine piece of Florentine workmanship and -remarkably well preserved. The floor of the cabinet -held miniatures of, presumably, ancestors of Miss -Susan Baird, and after a cursory glance at them, -Mitchell scanned the articles on the glass shelves. -A set of carved ivory chessmen awoke his admiration -and observing that the key was in the door of -the cabinet he opened it. After examining the little -chessmen, he turned his attention to the ivory checkers -and then to the two ivory cups for holding dice. -The carving on them was very fine and to see them -better Mitchell carried them to the gas light.</p> - -<p>Glancing at the red dice cup, he was surprised to -find cotton stuffed inside it. Setting down the other -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span>cup, Mitchell pulled out the layer of cotton and -found a small bottle standing upright. It was held -in the center of the cup by cotton packed around it. -Drawing out the bottle he held it up to the light. It -was almost empty. Mitchell pulled out the glass -stopper and sniffed at the contents. A distinct smell -of bitter almonds caused him to draw in his breath -sharply.</p> - -<p>“Prussic acid!” he muttered. “By God! And -Miss Susan Baird was poisoned with a dose of it.”</p> - -<p>There was no label on the small phial. Taking -out his handkerchief Mitchell replaced the glass -stopper, and wrapped his handkerchief about the -phial. Putting it carefully in his pocket, he paused -for a moment to take another look at the dice cups, -then replaced them in the cabinet. He and two of -his assistants had made a complete and searching -examination of the parlor immediately after the discovery -of the crime. Mitchell was willing to swear -that neither cotton nor phial had been in the dice cup -then. Who had hidden the incriminating evidence -there? Who had had the opportunity to do so? -Kitty Baird....</p> - -<p>Mitchell frowned heavily as he ran over in his -mind the list of callers at the Baird home since the -tragedy became known. The house was under surveillance -and he felt confident no one had evaded -the watchful eyes of his operatives. He dismissed -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>the majority of callers—friends and acquaintances -who had left cards and letters of condolence—and -his thoughts centered on those whom old Oscar had -admitted—Charles Craige, Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin -Potter, Edward Rodgers, and Major Leigh Wallace—but -to the best of his knowledge the Major had -<i>not</i> been inside the Baird house. He had seen Kitty -and Wallace arrive that afternoon, but Wallace had -departed without entering; therefore, he could not -have had an opportunity to secrete the bottle of -poison in the ivory dice cup.</p> - -<p>But Mitchell’s puzzled expression did not lighten, -instead it deepened. He was wrong, Wallace had -been in the house after the discovery of the murder, -for he had accompanied Dr. Leonard McLean to the -house on Monday morning. Could the young officer -have slipped unseen into the parlor and concealed -the bottle of poison while he, Mitchell, and Coroner -Penfield were superintending the removal of Miss -Baird’s body from the library to her bedroom?</p> - -<p>Bah! the idea was absurd. A man would not return -to the scene of a murder with incriminating -evidence in his pocket when he had had hours in -which to throw away the poison without arousing -suspicion. But supposing Wallace had, in the horror -of the moment, forgotten the bottle? Mitchell -shook his head in disbelief. Whoever perpetrated -so cold-blooded and premeditated a crime was not -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span>apt to overlook getting rid of the poison at the first -opportunity.</p> - -<p>With Wallace eliminated, Mitchell turned his -thoughts to Kitty’s other callers—Ben Potter and -his pretty wife, and Charles Craige, the brilliant -lawyer and popular clubman. Mitchell smiled -broadly—no possible motive linked them in any way, -shape or manner with the crime. Edward Rodgers—Mitchell -frowned as Mrs. Parsons’ confidences recurred -to him. Whatever his connection with the -Holt will case, nothing had occurred to associate -Rodgers with the murder of Miss Baird. The fact -that he was madly in love with her niece was patent -to all, but it did not constitute evidence that he had -a hand in murdering her aunt.</p> - -<p>The exhaust from an automobile broke the stillness -and Mitchell paused only long enough at the -window to see that a car had stopped near his. The -next second he was hurrying down the terraced -steps, his mind made up. Kitty had quarreled with -her aunt on Sunday afternoon; she had inherited -her wealth, and she had had the greatest opportunity -to slip the bottle of prussic acid into its hiding place -unknown to any one. There were questions which -Kitty alone could answer, and she must answer them -immediately.</p> - -<p>As Mitchell hurried to the side of the automobile, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span>its owner stepped on the running board and faced -him.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Potter!” exclaimed Mitchell. “Did they tell -you at Headquarters that I was here?”</p> - -<p>Potter peered at him in uncertainty for a second. -“Oh, Inspector,” he said. “I’m glad to see you, but -I had no idea you were here. The fact is,” lowering -his voice as Allen, tired of waiting in Mitchell’s car, -climbed out on the sidewalk and drew near the two -men. “My wife called up Miss Baird and couldn’t -get an answer. We both felt concerned about my -cousin and I ran over to see if anything was the matter. -Why are you here?”</p> - -<p>“I wanted to talk to Miss Baird,” Mitchell answered. -“However, she is out—”</p> - -<p>“Out? At this hour?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Mandy told me that she was motoring -with Mr. Rodgers,” explained Mitchell. “I decided -to wait for her return, and when you drove up, I -thought it was Mr. Rodgers.”</p> - -<p>Potter’s expression hardened. “I don’t approve -of Kitty going out at night with Rodgers without a -chaperon,” he grumbled. “Nor is it proper for her -to live in this lonely house with only ignorant servants.” -He turned back to his car and lifted out a -camera and several packages. “Kitty left these at -our apartment on Saturday, and Nina asked me to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span>bring them to her before the chemicals get mixed -with mine.”</p> - -<p>“Chemicals,” repeated Mitchell softly. “What -kind of chemicals?”</p> - -<p>“For developing negatives.” Potter started for -the house and Mitchell kept pace with him. “Kitty -has quite a craze that way—does good work for an -amateur. Some of her animal studies are excellent, -especially of her cat, Mouchette.”</p> - -<p>“Seems to me there are quite a number of poisons -used in developing films and negatives,” Mitchell -remarked thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>“Yes, get all you want at a kodak shop. Kitty -bought a new supply last Saturday,” Potter replied -carelessly. “Good Lord! What’s that?”</p> - -<p>The exclamation was drawn from him by the -sound of a motor horn which grew in volume as the -car approached nearer and both men looked down -Q Street.</p> - -<p>“Gee! Some one’s breaking the law!” exclaimed -Allen, attracted by the oncoming car whose headlights -brightened the whole street.</p> - -<p>With a grinding of brakes and totally regardless -of stopping on the wrong side of the street, the -driver drew up to the curb close to the three men -and Mitchell recognized Kitty Baird sitting behind -the steering wheel.</p> - -<p>“Come here, quick!” she called. “<i>Quick!</i>”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Kitty!” Potter sprang to her side. “What’s -wrong, child? What’s happened? Don’t look so -terrified.”</p> - -<p>“Ted has been shot!” Kitty was on the sidewalk -and around the car with lightning speed. “Don’t -stand there talking—help me carry Ted into my -house and then go for a doctor.”</p> - -<p>Mitchell brushed her unceremoniously aside and -looked in the car. The sight of Rodgers’ unconscious -form called for action.</p> - -<p>“Come here, Allen,” he called. “Take hold—gently, -man, gently.”</p> - -<p>It seemed an age to Kitty before the three men -carried their burden up the long terraced steps and -into the house.</p> - -<p>“Go up to the bedroom at the head of the stairs,” -she directed. “Mandy,” to the colored woman who, -aroused by the noise of tramping feet and voices, -appeared at the top of the staircase. “Show them -into the spare bedroom and help them get the bed -ready for Mr. Rodgers. I’ll telephone at once for -Dr. McLean.”</p> - -<p>Twenty minutes later Kitty stood with clenched -hands waiting for the surgeon’s verdict. She had -paced the hall until physical exhaustion had called a -halt.</p> - -<p>“Will he live, doctor?” she asked. “Don’t keep -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>me in suspense.” And the agony in her eyes caused -McLean to hurry his usually slow speech.</p> - -<p>“Yes, if there are no complications—”</p> - -<p>Kitty waited to hear no more. Turning abruptly, -she stumbled toward her own room—she could not -face any one just then. She had reached the end of -endurance.</p> - -<p>“Miss Baird,” Mitchell’s stern voice caused her -to falter just outside her bedroom door. “Who -shot Edward Rodgers?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” she stammered. “We were coming -home through Rock Creek Park and a car -dashed by us. I was blinded by its headlights. I -heard a report—” she caught her breath sharply. -“I turned and found Mr. Rodgers sitting unconscious—wounded -as you found him. I brought him -home—ah, I can’t talk to you now—go—go!” And -she half walked, half staggered across the threshold -of her bedroom and into Mandy’s sympathetic arms.</p> - -<p>Mitchell went slowly downstairs and out into the -street. Allen, his chauffeur, was standing by Edward -Rodgers’ car, and at sight of the inspector -waved a beckoning hand.</p> - -<p>“See here, Sir,” he said, turning the rays of his -electric torch into the body of the roadster. “See -that!”</p> - -<p>Mitchell stared at the revolver for several seconds. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>It lay just under the gear shift. Putting on his -gloves, Mitchell picked it up gingerly.</p> - -<p>“Have you handled the revolver, Allen?” he -asked.</p> - -<p>“No, sir. After the doctor and the nurse came, I -returned here and put out the headlights which Miss -Baird had left burning; then I saw the revolver -lying just there on the floor of the car.”</p> - -<p>A step behind him caused Mitchell to turn around.</p> - -<p>“Hello, what have you there?” asked Ben Potter.</p> - -<p>“A revolver.” Mitchell held it so that Allen’s -torch fell directly upon it. “And a revolver which -has been recently discharged judging from the smell -of burnt powder.”</p> - -<p>Potter whistled, then bent down for a better look. -“By heaven!” he exclaimed. “That’s Kitty’s revolver. -I had her initials engraved upon it—see—”</p> - -<p>And turning the revolver slightly, Mitchell was -able to decipher the letters on the plate: “K.B.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII<br /> -ELUSIVE CLUES</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">I</span><span class="smcap">nspector Mitchell</span> felt extremely -pleased with himself as he hurried along Seventeenth -Street in the direction of the Munitions -Building. In his interview with Mrs. Augustus -Murray of Georgetown, an hour before, he had been -unable to shake her confidence in her claim that she -had met Major Leigh Wallace leaving the Baird -mansion on Sunday afternoon about five minutes -past five o’clock. Mrs. Murray supplemented her -original statement with the information that the -Major never had the decency to apologize to her, -when he ran against her in his blind haste.</p> - -<p>Upon leaving Mrs. Murray, Inspector Mitchell -went at once to Major Wallace’s boarding house -where he learned that he had missed the young officer -by ten minutes only.</p> - -<p>“He’s gone to the Army Dispensary in the Munitions -Building for treatment,” Mrs. Harris, the -landlady, informed him. “Dear knows, I hope the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>treatment does him some good. The way he moans -in his sleep is something awful.”</p> - -<p>“Ah, is Major Wallace troubled with insomnia?” -asked Mitchell.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know what he’s troubled with.” Mrs. -Harris was not blessed with an even temper, and -when it was aroused generally vented her ill-humor -on the first person encountered. “His room is next -to mine and the partition is mighty thin. It makes -my flesh crawl to hear him moan and when he cries -out, ‘Kitty!’ and again, ‘That damned cat,’ I just -have to pound on the wall and wake him up.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps he has an antipathy to cats,” remarked -Mitchell, restraining a smile.</p> - -<p>“Mebbe he has; anyway I can’t say that I’m sorry -he’s going—”</p> - -<p>“Going where?”</p> - -<p>“Out west somewhere,” vaguely. “If you hurry -you may catch Major Wallace at the Dispensary; -he’s usually there about two hours.” And taking -the broad hint Mitchell bowed himself out of the -boarding house.</p> - -<p>Unable to secure a taxicab at the Dupont Circle -stand in place of the police car and Allen, whom he -had sent on an errand earlier in the morning, Mitchell -boarded a southbound street car and, standing -on the forward platform, kept a sharp look-out for -Major Wallace. He reached the corner of H Street, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span>however, without catching up with him, and leaving -the car continued on down Seventeenth Street.</p> - -<p>So absorbed was Inspector Mitchell in his own -thoughts that he failed to return Mrs. Parsons’ bow -as her motor passed him on its way up the street. -At a word from Mrs. Parsons, her chauffeur swung -the touring car around and up to the curb just as -Mitchell started to cross D Street. The sound of -his name caused him to glance around and he saw -Mrs. Parsons beckoning to him.</p> - -<p>“Can I give you a lift, Inspector?” she asked as -he approached. “You appear to be in a hurry.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks.” Mitchell wasted no superfluous words -but seated himself with alacrity by Mrs. Parsons’ -side.</p> - -<p>“Where to, sir?” questioned the chauffeur, touching -his cap as he closed the door.</p> - -<p>“Munitions Building—that is,” and Mitchell -turned inquiringly toward Mrs. Parsons, “if it won’t -take you out of your way?”</p> - -<p>“Not at all,” Mrs. Parsons’ smile was most engaging. -“The car and I are at your service, Inspector. -I have no engagements this morning.” She -paused to wave her hand to the occupants of a passing -car, then turned once more to the silent inspector. -“Has anything new developed in the Baird -murder mystery?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Only what was in the morning newspapers,” -answered Mitchell guardedly.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons’ gay laugh interrupted him. “I applaud -your caution,” she said. “The morning newspapers -contained no news whatever. Perhaps my -question was overstepping etiquette, but how about -the other matter about which I consulted you? I -mean Edward Rodgers and his erstwhile friend, -Major Leigh Wallace. What of them?”</p> - -<p>Mitchell considered the pretty widow before replying. -Her limpid brown eyes were raised to his -with an appealing earnestness that was irresistible.</p> - -<p>“I am on my way to see Major Wallace now,” he -said. “I had hoped to overtake him before he -reached the Munitions Building.”</p> - -<p>“Not by walking, surely,” she laughed. “Major -Wallace is driving his car to-day and he seldom -keeps within the city’s speed limit. And to-day was -no exception judging from the way he passed me -on the way downtown.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed?” He turned so that he could face her -as they talked. “His landlady informed me that -Major Wallace plans to leave shortly for the west.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons raised her eyebrows in polite surprise. -“So soon,” she murmured. “How odd! -And—” her voice gained in sharpness, “does Edward -Rodgers also plan to leave Washington?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know what he <i>had</i> planned,” with quiet -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span>emphasis. “But he is not going anywhere just -now.”</p> - -<p>“Why not?”</p> - -<p>“Because he was shot last night.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons’ convulsive jump almost precipitated -her out of the car as the chauffeur made the -turn into the street leading to the Munitions Building.</p> - -<p>“What—what did you say?” she stammered.</p> - -<p>“I did not mean to startle you,” Mitchell spoke -contritely, alarmed by her pallor. “I thought that -you had heard the news.”</p> - -<p>“I have heard nothing—” she spoke rapidly, clipping -her words. “There was nothing in the morning -paper—”</p> - -<p>“No, we didn’t give it out to the press.”</p> - -<p>“Then how did you expect me to know anything -of the shooting?”</p> - -<p>“I thought Miss Kitty Baird might have telephoned -to you—” Mitchell was watching her closely. -“She didn’t, eh?”</p> - -<p>“No.” Mrs. Parsons sat back more comfortably -in her car. “Was Mr. Rodgers killed?”</p> - -<p>Mitchell shook his head. “Seriously injured,” he -said soberly. “It’s a bad business.”</p> - -<p>“How did the shooting occur?” she asked. The -car had stopped before the lower entrance to the -Munitions Building, but Mrs. Parsons motioned to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span>her chauffeur to wait as he started to open the car -door.</p> - -<p>“Oh, some one was skylarking in Rock Creek -Park and shot Mr. Rodgers as he and Miss Kitty -Baird were motoring home last night,” explained -Mitchell. “Another case of an innocent bystander.”</p> - -<p>“It <i>was</i> an accident, then.” Mrs. Parsons raised -her scented handkerchief and touched her lips. “I -thought—it just occurred to me that he might have -tried suicide.”</p> - -<p>Mitchell regarded her fixedly for a second. “You -haven’t a great admiration for Edward Rodgers,” -he remarked dryly. “No, it was <i>not</i> a case of suicide.” -He stepped to the sidewalk. “Thanks very -much, Mrs. Parsons, for bringing me down. Good -morning.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons controlled her impulse to stop him.</p> - -<p>“Good morning,” she answered, and her voice -was honey sweet, but her chauffeur, happening to -meet her glance, quailed at the flash of rage which -darkened her eyes and then was gone. “‘Rose Hill,’ -Perkins.” The sharp command caused him to thank -his stars that he had left his engine running. Mrs. -Parsons’ uncertain temper had not endeared her to -her servants.</p> - -<p>The trip to Georgetown consumed less than ten -minutes and Mrs. Parsons had assumed her ordinary -expression of tranquil boredom when Perkins -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span>returned with the message that “Miss Baird would -be happy to see Mrs. Parsons.”</p> - -<p>It was the first time Mrs. Parsons had been to -call upon Kitty since the murder of her aunt, and -she could not repress curious glances about her as -she passed Mandy and went into the familiar library. -She had hardly seated herself before the sound of -a light footstep on the staircase leading down from -the gallery into the library caused her to look up and -she saw Kitty.</p> - -<p>“My dear child!” she exclaimed, advancing with -outstretched hands which Kitty grasped while submitting -gracefully to the dainty kiss which accompanied -her greeting. “My heart aches for you. -Your face tells me how you have suffered!” and she -traced the dark circles under Kitty’s eyes with her -finger-tip. “Is there nothing I can do for you?”</p> - -<p>Kitty did not reply at once; instead she busied -herself in pulling forward a chair. She was given -to acting upon impulse and Mrs. Parsons’ unexpected -appearance clinched a half-formed resolve -made in the early hours of the morning while watching -by Edward Rodgers’ bedside.</p> - -<p>“There is something you can do,” she said, and -her smile was very winning. “Tell me why you -wrote a note of warning to Leigh Wallace?”</p> - -<p>The question was unexpected and Mrs. Parsons -was taken off her guard.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p> - -<p>“He showed it to you!” she gasped. “How dared -he?”</p> - -<p>Kitty watched the color come and go in Mrs. -Parsons’ white cheeks with interest. It was seldom -that the widow showed emotion. “I am waiting for -an answer to my question,” she reminded her quietly.</p> - -<p>“Let Leigh Wallace supply the answer.” Mrs. -Parsons had herself in hand again. “He can—if he -has not already left town.”</p> - -<p>Kitty did her best to repress a start, but the keen -eyes watching her under half-closed lids detected it.</p> - -<p>“Suppose we leave Leigh out of the question,” -Kitty controlled her voice admirably. “Would you -rather answer me or the police?”</p> - -<p>“The police?” Mrs. Parsons laughed tolerantly. -“Dear child, the strain you have been under distorts -your ideas. Why the police?”</p> - -<p>“Because they are endeavoring to solve the mystery -of my aunt’s murder.” Kitty nothing daunted -by the older woman’s evasions was determined to -fight in the open. “I am convinced, Mrs. Parsons, -that Leigh—and you—have a guilty knowledge of -that crime.”</p> - -<p>Only the most astute observer could have translated -the swift change in Mrs. Parsons’ expression. -Even to Kitty’s prejudiced ears her low amused -laugh rang true.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You have dug up a mare’s nest,” Mrs. Parsons -replied. “To think that you should consider that I -had a hand in poor, dear Miss Susan’s death! Why, -my dear, it would be insulting if it was not ludicrous.”</p> - -<p>Kitty flushed with wrath; Mrs. Parsons’ ridicule -was hard to bear. After all, was the widow right—had -she dug up a mare’s nest? There was nothing -but that note of warning to Leigh Wallace to connect -her in the slightest degree with the tragedy.</p> - -<p>“Will you tell me to what your note referred,” -she asked, “if not to my aunt’s murder?”</p> - -<p>“You overstep my patience.” Mrs. Parsons drew -herself up with a displeased gesture. “I decline to -be questioned further on the subject.”</p> - -<p>“Miss Baird—” the interruption came from the -doorway and both Kitty and her guest whirled -around to see a white-capped nurse watching them. -“Mr. Rodgers keeps calling for you. Will you come, -please?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, immediately.” Kitty was half way to the -door when Mrs. Parsons addressed her with eagerness -in her voice.</p> - -<p>“Is Mr. Rodgers here?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes.” Kitty’s impatience was marked. “We -brought him here after the—the accident. Dr. McLean -thought it best not to move him to a hospital. -Please don’t detain me.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> - -<p>“But, my dear,” Mrs. Parsons paused just in -front of her. “Are you here alone—unchaperoned?”</p> - -<p>“My cousin, Nina Potter, came last night to be -with me—”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I am relieved,” Mrs. Parsons purred out the -words. “No one can afford to defy the conventions. -If your cousin was not here, I would volunteer myself—”</p> - -<p>“Thanks—excuse me, Mrs. Parsons—” The -portières opened and closed behind her vanishing -figure and Mrs. Parsons found herself alone in the -library.</p> - -<p>Raising her gold lorgnette Mrs. Parsons took a -prolonged survey of the throne-shaped chair standing -in its customary place behind the tea table. It -required but little stretch of the imagination to visualize -Miss Susan Baird presiding over the tea cups, -her hawklike nose and piercing eyes. In spite of -the warmth of the library, Mrs. Parsons shivered -and drew her costly fur coat more closely about her.</p> - -<p>With some hesitancy she approached the tea table -and scanned the antique silver tea service. She had -admired it on many occasions. Taking up the teapot -she reversed it and tried to decipher the hall -mark; failing to do so she examined first the cream -pitcher and then the sugar bowl. As she lowered the -bowl, she glanced across the tea table and saw two -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span>large yellow eyes regarding her from the throne-shaped -chair.</p> - -<p>Mouchette stood in the chair with her fore-paws -resting on the table and her fluffy tail was lashing -itself into a fury. It was the cat’s evident intention -to spring upon the table and Mrs. Parsons retreated -precipitously. She hated cats. As she passed the -table, she dropped the sugar bowl on its polished -surface. The bowl skidded, half righted itself, then -fell to the floor, the heavy rug deadening the noise. -With it went a small object unseen by Mrs. Parsons -who, not stopping to pick up the bowl, proceeded -into the hall.</p> - -<p>Mouchette, surprised by Mrs. Parsons’ rapid retreat, -stood where she was for an instant, then -jumped lightly to the floor and sniffed at the sugar -bowl. Going over to the small object lying by the -bowl she sniffed at that, stretched out an inquisitive -paw, gave it a gentle pat, watched it roll a short distance, -then convinced that she had a plaything after -her own heart, the cat proceeded to roll it hither and -yon.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons was making straight for the front -door when she caught sight of some one in the parlor, -the door of which stood ajar. With a quiet air -of authority she entered the room. So silently did -she move that not until Nina Potter turned away -from the Florentine cabinet was she aware of Mrs. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span>Parsons’ presence. The ivory chessman which she -held slipped from her fingers and shattered on the -hardwood floor.</p> - -<p>“Oh, what a pity!” Mrs. Parsons’ air of concern -sat prettily upon her. “My dear Nina, did I startle -you? I am so distressed.”</p> - -<p>“You did,” admitted Nina with a rueful smile. -“The quinine I have taken for my cold has made me -quite deaf. Does Kitty know that you are here?”</p> - -<p>“I have just seen her,” Mrs. Parsons selected a -chair and motioned Nina to one beside it. She did -not propose to have her call cut short. She had -found her source of information. “Kitty had to go -upstairs to be with Edward Rodgers. When did -the shooting occur?”</p> - -<p>“Late last night.” Nina moved uneasily; she -knew Mrs. Parsons’ predilection for scandal.</p> - -<p>“And where—” with gentle insistence.</p> - -<p>“In Rock Creek Park.” Nina’s hoarse voice -rasped Mrs. Parsons’ ears. She was sensitive to -sound. “Ben was here when Kitty returned with -Ted Rodgers, and he came right home and brought -me back to stay with Kitty.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons eyed her in silence, noting every -detail of her pretty morning dress as well as the -unusual redness of her eyelids and the nervous -twitching of her hands.</p> - -<p>“How fortunate for you,” she exclaimed. Nina -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span>looked up and caught her eyes; for a moment their -glances held, then Nina looked away.</p> - -<p>“I don’t catch your meaning,” she faltered.</p> - -<p>“No?”—with a rising inflection which implied -doubt, and Nina blushed painfully. Mrs. Parsons -avoided looking at her; instead she inspected the -furniture in the parlor and shuddered. “Such taste -in decoration,” she said calmly. “But then Kitty -can change all that with the fortune Miss Susan -Baird left to her. What a sensation the news of her -wealth has made in Washington! Has no one asked -<i>you</i> how Miss Baird acquired it?”</p> - -<p>Nina’s color slowly ebbed away. The eyes she -turned on Mrs. Parsons were like some hunted animal.</p> - -<p>“You—you know?” she stammered.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons nodded her head.</p> - -<p>“Confide in me, my dear Nina,” she spoke with a -world of sympathy in voice and manner. “I know -that I can aid you.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX<br /> -SUSPICION</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">I</span><span class="smcap">t</span> was not often that Charles Craige was late in -keeping an appointment with Mrs. Parsons. -But the pretty widow had occasion to glance -repeatedly at her parlor clock with ever increasing -annoyance before she heard the butler ushering -some one upstairs. She masked her displeasure -under a smiling face.</p> - -<p>“Ah, Charles, what has detained you?” she asked, -as he bent low over her hand and kissed it.</p> - -<p>“Pressing business,” he answered. “I am deeply -sorry to be late, Cecelia. Judge McMasters simply -would not hurry. Has Ben Potter been here?”</p> - -<p>“Not to-day.” Mrs. Parsons’ surprise at the question -was manifest. “You know he is not one of my -favorites. He bored me to death in San Francisco; -he is so intense—” she shrugged her shoulders. “I -saw his wife this morning.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed?” Craige selected a cigarette from the -box on the table and accepted a lighted match.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Silly sentimental little fool,” commented Mrs. -Parsons. “Just the kind of wife Ben could have -been counted on to pick out.”</p> - -<p>“Men usually marry to please themselves.” Craige -laughed. “Ben telephoned me an hour ago and said -that he was coming around to see you—”</p> - -<p>“What about?”</p> - -<p>“He did not state.” Craige looked at her in surprise, -abruptness was not usual with her. “He may -come at any moment—” glancing at his watch. It -lacked five minutes of the hour. “I stopped at the -bank this morning and President Walsh said he -would accept your note for two thousand dollars -provided you have collateral—”</p> - -<p>“Certainly.” Mrs. Parsons colored deeply. “In -fact, I am not sure that I shall need the loan from -the bank. I was only temporarily embarrassed until -my property in San Francisco is sold. To-day,” she -paused, “I have arranged another matter satisfactorily. -It is kind of you, Charles, very kind, to -handle my business for me.”</p> - -<p>“My dearest Cecelia—” Craige laid his hand on -hers. “I am happiest when I serve you.”</p> - -<p>Her eyes sparkled with a hint of tears. “I am -grateful,” she murmured. “You have been so good, -so very good since I came to Washington.”</p> - -<p>“Cecelia!” Craige bent forward impulsively, but -she drew away from his embrace.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Not now, dear,” she protested. “You know you -promised—”</p> - -<p>Craige’s handsome face, alight with eagerness, -altered. “I will keep my word—” he said. “One -month, Cecelia, and then the whole world is to know -of my happiness—”</p> - -<p>“Our happiness—” she corrected softly. Craige -caught her hands and pressed the palms against his -face before kissing them with lingering tenderness.</p> - -<p>“<i>A la bonne heure!</i>” he exclaimed, and his voice -betrayed his happiness. “Cecelia, you grow prettier -every day.”</p> - -<p>“My mirror is not so kind as you, Charles!” A -sigh accompanied the words, and she swiftly -changed the subject. “Have you seen Kitty Baird -to-day?”</p> - -<p>“I am on my way there now.” A worried -look crossed his face. “That poor girl seems -fated for tragedy. You heard of the attempt -to kill Ted Rodgers last night in the Park, did you -not?”</p> - -<p>“I understood that it was an accident.” Horror -crept into Mrs. Parsons’ eyes. “How dreadful!”</p> - -<p>“Kitty declares that the headlights of the car -blinded her, and that she has no idea of the identity -of the person who did the shooting. She says that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span>she could not even tell whether it was a man or a -woman.”</p> - -<p>Craige, sitting facing the light from the western -window, failed to detect the faint alteration in Mrs. -Parsons’ expression.</p> - -<p>“How is Ted Rodgers?” she asked. “Out of danger?”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t heard; which reminds me that I am to -meet Dr. McLean at ‘Rose Hill’ at three o’clock.” -Craige rose. “I sincerely hope that Ted recovers—it -will kill Kitty if anything happens to him.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons held out her hands and Craige -helped her slowly to her feet. “So Ted really has -cut out Leigh Wallace in Kitty’s affections,” she remarked.</p> - -<p>Craige frowned. “It was nothing more than a -flirtation between Kitty and Wallace,” he declared. -“Her whole heart is centered on Ted.”</p> - -<p>“You speak with positiveness—” Mrs. Parsons’ -laugh held a touch of malice. “Remember, women -are fickle—and Leigh very attractive.”</p> - -<p>“I fail to understand the fascination he apparently -has for women.” Craige’s tone was stiff. A mischievous -smile touched Mrs. Parsons’ lips and her -eyes danced.</p> - -<p>“Leigh was very, very smitten with Kitty,” she -asserted, as she paused before the long gilt mirror -and adjusted her lorgnette chain. “Do you suppose -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span>it could have been Leigh who tried to kill Ted last -night?”</p> - -<p>Craige stood just behind her and looking in the -mirror she saw his face reflected over her shoulder. -His expression of surprise gave place to doubt—to -wonder—</p> - -<p>“By Jove!” he exclaimed. “No, it can’t be, Cecelia. -Leigh, whatever his faults, is the type of man who -fights in the open.”</p> - -<p>“Jealousy changes a man’s nature sometimes,” she -murmured. “Leigh has not been himself since his -return from France.”</p> - -<p>“You knew him before, then?”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons nodded. “Very slightly. It was -Nina Potter who commented upon the change in -him; he was an old sweetheart of hers.”</p> - -<p>Craige paused. “Upon my word, Cecelia,” he -ejaculated. “How do you learn so much about -people?”</p> - -<p>She laughed aloud in her amusement. “I am observant. -I find—” and the lines about her mouth -hardened—“it pays to be. Will you dine with me -to-morrow night, Charles?”</p> - -<p>“Surely,” with eager haste. “And will you go to -the theater afterward?”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps.” She laid her hand for the fraction of -a second against his cheek with a caressing motion. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span>“Careful, dear, James is waiting to open the door -for you—” and Craige perforce contented himself -with a formal handshake as the servant came forward -to the foot of the short flight of steps with his -overcoat and hat.</p> - -<p>Craige was about to step into his motor when he -became aware that the butler was at his elbow.</p> - -<p>“Can I have a word with you, sir?” he asked, and -a jerk of his thumb indicated Craige’s chauffeur. -“In private, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Certainly, James.” Mystified by the butler’s air -of secretiveness Craige followed him a few steps -down the street. When convinced that the chauffeur -could not overhear them, James halted. But -they were not destined to have their interview in -private, for as Craige stood waiting for James to explain -what he wished Inspector Mitchell stopped beside -them.</p> - -<p>“Good afternoon, Mr. Craige,” he said, as he -nodded a greeting to the butler. “Glad to see you, -sir. Now, James, why did you send for me?”</p> - -<p>James rubbed his hands together and cast an appealing -look at Craige. “I had to,” he began, addressing -his remarks to him rather than to Mitchell. -“My conscience couldn’t rest easy, sir, after I read -the newspapers about the inquest.”</p> - -<p>“The inquest?” Mitchell’s eyes snapped with ex<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span>citement. -“Go on, man—you mean the Baird inquest?”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Mr. Craige, sir, the newspapers said that -Miss Baird was killed by poison put on a peach,” he -spoke in nervous haste and Craige had some difficulty -in catching what he said. “Nobody seemed -to know where the peaches came from ’cording to -the papers.”</p> - -<p>“No more we did,” prompted Mitchell. “Well, -what then?”</p> - -<p>James licked his lips with the tip of his tongue. -“Miss Kitty Baird goes to the market sometimes for -Mrs. Parsons, sir. On Saturday she brought back -some California peaches,” his voice sank even -lower. “She called here Sunday morning, and when -she left, the peaches wasn’t on the dining room -table.”</p> - -<p>Craige stared the butler out of countenance. “Preposterous!” -he exclaimed, turning red with indignation. -“What are you suggesting, James?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing, sir, Mr. Craige. I’m just telling you -about the peaches.”</p> - -<p>Craige’s face was a study of wrath and bewilderment; -the former predominating. With an effort, -he checked an oath and instead drew out some loose -silver.</p> - -<p>“I am glad you spoke only to us, James,” he said. -“Come with me, Mitchell,” and paying no attention -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span>to the inspector’s protests that he wished further -word with the butler, he hurried him toward his car.</p> - -<p>So occupied were both men that neither caught -James’ furtive glance at the parlor window as he -turned to reënter Mrs. Parsons’ house.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX<br /> -THE FEET OF THE FURTIVE</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">M</span><span class="smcap">andy</span> was not happy in her mind. No -matter how tempting the dishes she -cooked, her beloved “Miss Kitty” failed -to eat more than “jes’ scraps,” as Mandy expressed -it in her disgust. But Kitty’s heart as -well as her thoughts were centered in the sickroom -and she did not linger elsewhere. Weakened -through loss of blood and shock, Ted Rodgers had -lain partly conscious all through the morning, taking -no interest in his surroundings and only rousing -when Kitty spoke to him. But even to her he addressed -no conversation, being content to hold her -hand and gaze at her with his heart in his eyes.</p> - -<p>“Do go and lie down, Miss Baird.” Miss Grey, -the trained nurse, laid a sympathetic hand on Kitty’s -shoulder. “I assure you Mr. Rodgers is better, and -I promise to call you the moment Dr. McLean gets -here.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span></p> - -<p>Kitty stretched her cramped muscles and looked -at Ted. Even to her inexperienced eyes, he appeared -to be resting more comfortably and his cheeks -were a healthier color. She felt inexplicably weary; -her eyelids were heavy from lack of sleep and her -head ached unmercifully. Taking care not to arouse -Rodgers, Kitty moved away from the bedside.</p> - -<p>“I’ll be in the room,” she told Miss Gray, lowering -her voice, “just across the hall, and I will -leave my door open. If you want the slightest thing -just call me, and I will come at once.”</p> - -<p>Kitty’s desire for “forty winks,” as her aunt had -always termed her afternoon nap, was not to be -gratified immediately, for as she stepped into the -hall, Mandy came toiling up the stairs.</p> - -<p>“Law, ma’am, Miss Kitty!” she ejaculated. “Dis -hyar day am gwine to be de ruination of me. I -wish that no-count nigger, Oscar, was hyar attendin’ -to his work.”</p> - -<p>“I wish so, too!” echoed Kitty fervently. “Have -you had word from Oscar?”</p> - -<p>“No, m’m.” Mandy had a habit of mumbling her -words. “Whar’s Mrs. Potter?”</p> - -<p>“I’m sure I don’t know.” Kitty yawned. “In -the library, probably.”</p> - -<p>“No she ain’t, neither!” Mandy’s exasperation -was gaining the upper hand. “Thar’s been two tele<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span>phone -calls fo’ her, an’ I ’spects Mister Ben’ll -jump clear through his skin if she don’t come an’ -talk to him.”</p> - -<p>“Is Mr. Ben on the ’phone now?”</p> - -<p>“Yessim.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll talk to him on the branch ’phone.” Kitty -crossed the hall. “You might see if Mrs. Potter is -lying down in the boudoir.”</p> - -<p>The telephone instrument was close by the door -and Kitty, who had earlier in the day deadened the -sound of the bell by stuffing cotton about it, so that -its ring might not disturb Rodgers, took off the receiver. -No masculine voice answered her low hail, -and finally, convinced that her cousin must have -grown tired and rung off, she hung up the receiver. -Going over to her bed she threw herself fully -dressed upon it, and in a few minutes her even -breathing showed that she had fallen into the heavy -slumber of utter exhaustion.</p> - -<p>Mandy, left to her own devices, wandered down -the hall to the boudoir. It was located next to the -bedroom which had belonged to Miss Susan Baird. -The old colored woman cautiously poked her head -inside the door sufficiently for to convince herself -that the boudoir was empty, then withdrew. She -stood for some seconds before the closed door leading -into “Miss Susan’s” bedroom, but her superstitious -dread kept her from entering it. Had she -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span>done so she would have found the object of her -search.</p> - -<p>Nina Potter, her ear close to the key-hole of the -door, heard Mandy stump heavily away and drew -a long, long breath of relief. Getting up from her -knees, she looked about the room. It had been left -untouched since the funeral, Mandy not having -found courage either to dust or sweep, or, for the -matter of that, to enter it upon any occasion whatever, -in spite of Kitty’s directions to put the bedroom -in order.</p> - -<p>It was a large room with high ceilings and diamond-paned -windows. The shades were raised -and the afternoon sunshine fell full upon the carved -four-post bedstead with its time-worn canopy and -broad valance. Going over to the bureau, Nina -tried the different drawers; they were all unlocked. -Turning once again to convince herself that she -really was alone in the room, she waited a second -and then went through the bureau with neatness and -dispatch. Her search was unproductive of result. -Nothing daunted, she examined the old desk with -equal thoroughness, and then turned her attention -to the mahogany wardrobe which occupied one corner -of the room. She found that it contained nothing -but clothes which a generation before had been -fashionable. They hung on the wooden pegs, rainbow -hued, beribboned, and musty. Nina hastily -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span>closed the doors and turned her back on the wardrobe.</p> - -<p>The action brought her face to face with the bedstead. -It was the only piece of furniture in the -room which she had not examined. With some hesitancy -she walked over to it. The sheets had been -spread neatly over the mattress, but the bolster and -pillows had evidently been tossed in place, for they -had assumed grotesque shapes and to her excited -imagination it seemed as if some human form lay -sprawled across the bed.</p> - -<p>Raising the sheets, she ran her hands back and -forth over the mattress as far as she could reach. -No rustle of papers, such as she had hoped to hear, -resulted. Looking about, she spied the short -wooden steps which Miss Susan Baird had used to -mount into bed every night, and dragged them into -place. Standing on the top step and resting her -weight partly on the bed, Nina managed to feel the -whole surface of the mattress.</p> - -<p>Finally, she straightened her aching figure and -stood upright. She was conscious of a slight feeling -of giddiness; the next instant she had lost her -balance and rolled to the floor. As she descended -she threw out her hand and instinctively clutched -the valance. It ripped away with a tearing sound, -and when she sat up, bewildered, her eyes were on a -level with the wooden springs of the bed. Between -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span>them and the mattress rested an oblong box. It was -painted the color of mahogany and fitted snugly -into its cleverly contrived hiding place.</p> - -<p>Nina’s fingers trembled as she lifted out the box -and tried to raise the cover. It was locked. Scrambling -to her feet, she hurried to the bureau and -selected a steel shoe horn. Slipping it under the -box-lid she exerted all her strength. The lock resisted -her efforts at first, then the rotten wood gave -with a slight splintering sound.</p> - -<p>In panting haste she threw back the lid. The box -appeared to be filled with papers of all sizes, but -Nina lost no time in examining them. On top lay a -package of letters bearing her name in a familiar -handwriting. Snatching them up, Nina replaced -the box. With the aid of pins she tacked the valance -back in place as best she could, straightened the -bedclothes, and then stole from the room, her -precious package clasped tightly in her hand. As -she passed down the staircase, she was totally unaware -that she was watched, nor did she catch the -faint sound made by the opening and closing of -“Miss Susan’s” bedroom door.</p> - -<p>The fire in the library had been replenished a -short time before by Mandy and it blazed with unaccustomed -brilliancy, and Nina in the overheated -atmosphere felt a return of the giddiness which had -upset her upstairs. Crossing the library, she threw -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>open the upper half of the Dutch door. The cool -air refreshed her and she stood enjoying it while her -gaze roved over the garden and its box hedges along -the walks. The flower beds in their winter dress -presented a dreary aspect. But Nina’s attention did -not linger upon them; instead it centered upon a man -sitting on one of the stone benches near the sun-dial. -His air of dejection was marked. He turned -ever so slightly and in spite of the soft hat pulled far -down on his forehead and his hunched shoulders, -Nina recognized Leigh Wallace. On impulse she -turned the key in the lower half of the door and -opening it, walked down the path. Her footfall was -noiseless and it was not until she stopped directly in -front of him that Wallace became aware of her -approach.</p> - -<p>“Nina!” The low cry escaped him involuntarily.</p> - -<p>“Don’t!” Her tone stung him like a lash. “I -prefer to be addressed as Mrs. Potter.”</p> - -<p>“Certainly.” Wallace grew white to the lips. “I -shall respect your wishes. Had I known that you -were here, I would not have come.”</p> - -<p>“It is perhaps as well that you are here,” Nina -took a step forward. “It gives me an opportunity -to return these letters.”</p> - -<p>Wallace looked at the package she held toward -him and then at her.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You kept them!” he gasped. “You had the -nerve—”</p> - -<p>Her scornful expression checked him. “Comment -is unnecessary,” she said. “Take the letters and -destroy them.”</p> - -<p>Wallace’s uncomprehending stare frightened her. -Was his old failing upon him—had he been drinking? -For a long minute they regarded each other. -Slowly he put out his hand, took the package, and -without a glance at them or at her turned and walked -away.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Inspector Mitchell left Charles Craige to enter -“Rose Hill” alone.</p> - -<p>“I’ll be in shortly,” he exclaimed. “Wait until I -get there.” And, not waiting to hear even if Craige -made an answer, the Inspector headed for the house -adjoining the Baird mansion on the east. Craige -paused a second to give an order to his chauffeur, -then mounted the long steps to the vestibule where -Mandy stood awaiting his arrival.</p> - -<p>“I done see’d yo’ comin’,” she remarked, closing -the door with a bang. “Go right in de lib’ry, Mister -Charles. I’ll tell Miss Kitty yo’ am hyar jes’ as -soon as my gran’son gets back from the sto’.” And -Mandy resumed her place in the parlor window -from whence she could obtain an unobstructed view -up and down Q Street.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p> - -<p>Craige’s heavy footsteps did not cause a man, -standing in front of the open Dutch door in the -library, to turn around, so fixed was his attention on -the view into the garden. Craige paused just over -the threshold of the library door.</p> - -<p>“Why, hello, Ben!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t know -you were here.”</p> - -<p>With a convulsive start, Ben Potter swung around -and Craige recoiled a step or two. The rage -stamped on Potter’s countenance had distorted it -almost beyond recognition.</p> - -<p>“God bless my soul!” Craige ejaculated. “Ben, -what is it?”</p> - -<p>Potter passed a hand across his face and with an -effort regained some semblance of self-control.</p> - -<p>“Nothing, nothing,” he stammered. “Where’s -Kitty?”</p> - -<p>“I am sure I don’t know.” Craige’s astonishment -increased. “Probably upstairs.”</p> - -<p>Potter brushed past him without a word and disappeared -into the hall. Craige advanced farther -into the library and paused in indecision. From -where he stood he faced the Dutch door, the upper -half of which stood open, and thus had an uninterrupted -view of the garden.</p> - -<p>It did not need remarkably keen eyesight to recognize -the man and woman standing near the sun-dial. -Craige stared at the tableau for fully a minute, then -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span>turned thoughtfully away just as Leigh Wallace -took the package from Nina Potter.</p> - -<p>Kitty, awakened from her sleep by Ben Potter’s -unceremonious entrance into her bedroom, was gazing -at her cousin in utter bewilderment.</p> - -<p>“What are you saying?” she demanded for the -second time.</p> - -<p>“That your revolver was found by Inspector Mitchell -on the floor of Ted Rodgers’ car,” repeated -Potter. He made no attempt to modify his angry -tones and his voice carried through the open door -and across the hall into Ted Rodgers’ bedroom.</p> - -<p>“You are mad!” exclaimed Kitty. “My revolver -is here in my desk.” Springing up she hastened to -her antique secretary and pulled open one of the -drawers. It was empty.</p> - -<p>“The revolver was here yesterday,” she cried.</p> - -<p>“And last night in Ted’s car,” reiterated Potter, -with stubborn temper. “Your revolver—and one -chamber had been recently discharged and Ted Rodgers -nearly killed.”</p> - -<p>As his words echoed across the hall Miss Gray, -the trained nurse, closed the bedroom door and -turned to look at her patient. With feeble strength -he struggled upright.</p> - -<p>“Bring me my clothes,” Ted Rodgers gasped, as -she hurried to his side.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI<br /> -MOUCHETTE, THE SEVEN-TOED</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">W</span><span class="smcap">hen</span> Nina Potter reëntered the library a -few minutes later she found Charles -Craige playing with the Angora cat, -Mouchette. With a word of greeting she moved -over to the fire and held out her hands before the -blaze. Craige, who had risen at sight of her, observed -her effort to avoid his gaze.</p> - -<p>“I feel chilled,” she confessed, and a shiver shook -her from head to foot.</p> - -<p>“You have a bad cold,” Craige remarked. “Was -it wise to linger in the garden—?”</p> - -<p>Nina, intent on her own thoughts, never noticed -the gravity of his manner.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps not,” she admitted absently. “I should -have remembered my coat. Where is Kitty?”</p> - -<p>“Upstairs, I imagine. Your husband went to find -her.”</p> - -<p>“Ben!” Nina whirled around. “Ben—here?”</p> - -<p>“Look out, you will scorch yourself,” Craige -stepped hastily toward her. “Don’t stand so near -the fire.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I am in no danger—” but Nina drew away from -the fireplace with a paler face. “How long have you -been in the library, Mr. Craige?”</p> - -<p>“About ten minutes.”</p> - -<p>“Was Ben here with you?”</p> - -<p>“I found him here when I arrived. Do sit down, -Mrs. Potter, you look utterly fagged,” and Craige -wheeled forward a chair. As she still remained -standing he started to remonstrate, but the words -died on his lips as Kitty came into the room, followed -by Ben Potter.</p> - -<p>“Thank heaven you are here,” she cried, running -to her godfather’s side. “You will bring Ben to his -senses.”</p> - -<p>Potter walked up to them, his eyes ablaze with -anger. “I’ve told her a few plain truths,” he stated. -His truculent manner made anything but an agreeable -impression on Craige, who viewed him with contempt. -He had no use for bullies.</p> - -<p>“Stop shouting, Ben,” he remarked cuttingly. -“You forget you are addressing your cousin and -your wife.”</p> - -<p>Nina moved slightly to one side and looked at -her husband. Upon his entrance she had shrunk -behind Craige. The movement had been instinctive.</p> - -<p>“Why are you so excited, dear?” she asked, timidly.</p> - -<p>Potter avoided her gaze and addressed Craige. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span>“I’m tired of mysteries,” he declared. “First, Cousin -Susan is murdered, brutally murdered, poor old -lady; then my friend, Ted Rodgers, is shot while -driving in his own car with Kitty—and Kitty’s revolver, -with one chamber discharged, is found in the -car. Damn it!” His teeth clenched together. “It’s -time the police took action.”</p> - -<p>“We will, never worry—” Inspector Mitchell, -who had been an interested spectator of the scene -from the doorway, stepped inside the library, his -face set and stern. “Allow me to conduct this investigation -in my own way, Mr. Potter. Stand -aside, sir.” He turned to address some one in the -hall. “Welsh, go tell Major Wallace that he will -find Miss Baird here and not in the parlor.”</p> - -<p>“Wallace!” Potter faced about. “Is he still -hanging around here? Why don’t you throw him -out?”</p> - -<p>“Major Wallace has a perfect right to come here -if he wishes to.” Kitty spoke with warmth. “How -dare you, Ben, dictate who shall call here and who -shall not? This is my house.”</p> - -<p>“Is it?” Potter had lashed himself into a fury—a -fury apparently intensified by the arrival of Leigh -Wallace, for he turned and shook his fist at the -young officer. “As your nearest of kin, Kitty, I -insist that your aunt’s wishes be carried out and that -you shall not receive Wallace again. She knew -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span>what character of man he is—and that knowledge -was the cause of her death.”</p> - -<p>Craige stepped forward. “Are you aware of what -you are saying, Ben?” he asked. “That you virtually -accuse Major Wallace of killing Miss Susan -Baird?”</p> - -<p>“Sure.” Potter laughed recklessly. “Miss Baird -had proof of his treachery—”</p> - -<p>“Treachery? To whom?” Craige’s hand on -Kitty’s shoulder warned her to be silent as he shot -his questions at the distraught naturalist.</p> - -<p>“To Kitty—playing fast and loose with her affections, -and holding clandestine meetings with—” -Potter licked his dry mouth, while his eyes, inflamed -with hate, rested on Wallace’s white face, “with my -wife.”</p> - -<p>“You lie!” The denial rang out clearly. Only -Inspector Mitchell’s powerful arm prevented Wallace -from springing on Potter. “You d—mn -scoundrel, to blacken your wife’s name.”</p> - -<p>“Stop! Stop!” Nina Potter wrung her hands. -“You are both mad!”</p> - -<p>“This scene has gone far enough!” Craige spoke -with authority. His calmness brought some comfort -to Kitty—they were not all losing their heads! -“Quiet, Potter. Now, Mitchell, what have you to -say?”</p> - -<p>Inspector Mitchell surveyed the small circle with -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span>critical eyes. He noted Nina Potter, standing white-faced -and terror-stricken, her gaze riveted on her -infuriated husband. Kitty, bewilderment struggling -with dawning horror as she stared at her cousin and -his young wife and then at Wallace, had sunk down -on the nearest chair. Wallace, his eyes downcast, -stood swaying on his feet. Mitchell glanced at -Craige and pointed slightly to Wallace. It was -plain to both men that the young officer had been -drinking.</p> - -<p>“Suppose we sit down,” Mitchell indicated the -chairs about the tea table, and taking their consent -for granted, deliberately seated himself. With some -hesitancy, Potter followed his example and Wallace -did so mechanically. Nina Potter, her feet dragging -as she stumbled nearer, half fell into an armchair -and Craige took the vacant one by Kitty’s side.</p> - -<p>“Draw up,” Mitchell directed. “I will lay my -cards on the table—and then, Mr. Potter,” as the -naturalist started to speak, “we’ll hear what you -have to say. Until then, keep quiet.”</p> - -<p>Mitchell spoke in a tone which commanded respect -and Potter sullenly obeyed him. The silence -remained unbroken for a tense moment, then the -portières were drawn aside and Welsh, the plain -clothes detective, stuck his head inside the library.</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Parsons,” he announced, and drew back to -let her enter.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p> - -<p>Half way across the library the pretty widow -paused and inspected the company assembled around -the tea table in astonishment.</p> - -<p>“My dear Kitty,” she said, dropping her lorgnette. -“I stopped only for a minute,” she hesitated. -“I fear I am <i>de trop</i>,” and she turned to leave.</p> - -<p>“Not a bit of it.” Mitchell spoke so quickly that -Kitty, who had risen, had no opportunity to answer -Mrs. Parsons. The instinct of courtesy gained -ascendancy over her perturbed spirit, and she offered -her chair to the pretty widow. “Join us here, Mrs. -Parsons,” added Mitchell. “We want your advice.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons’ smile was charming, but her eyes -were keenly alert as she moved forward, searching -each face for a clue to the scene which she felt she -had interrupted. Not observing where she was going, -she stepped on something soft. A loud wail -from Mouchette caused her to start convulsively, -and the Angora cat, switching her injured tail, back -and forth, sprang on Kitty’s vacant chair and from -there to the tea table.</p> - -<p>“That cat is always under my feet, horrid beast!” -Mrs. Parsons, conscious of appearing ridiculous, for -Wallace had not restrained a chuckle, spoke with -irritation.</p> - -<p>“Let me help you,” and Craige, who with the -other men had risen on the widow’s entrance, assisted -her in removing her wrap.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span></p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons presented an alluring picture in her -chic crêpe de Chine calling costume, its soft folds -showing her graceful figure to advantage. Mrs. -Parsons, with reason, was vain of her neck and arms -and generally wore elbow sleeves and square cut -neck. She was making a round of visits, and as she -removed her long white gloves, she laid her gold -card case and mesh bag before her on the tea table.</p> - -<p>Mouchette eyed them for a second and then put -out an inquisitive paw. Mrs. Parsons promptly -drew both bag and card case out of the cat’s reach. -Craige, who missed nothing the widow either said -or did, lifted Mouchette off the table and held her on -his knee. He was aware of Mrs. Parsons’ fear of -cats. Mouchette submitted to his petting with good -grace and much purring, and finally curled up in his -lap, but her yellow eyes never ceased watching Mrs. -Parsons.</p> - -<p>“Is this a séance?” asked Mrs. Parsons as the -silence continued. “If not,” her eyebrows lifted, -“why are we sitting around this table?”</p> - -<p>“We are waiting for Inspector Mitchell to, as he -expressed it, ‘lay his cards on the table,’” Potter -spoke with a sneer. “In other words, Cecelia, you -are in at the death.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons’ slight start was lost on all but -Craige.</p> - -<p>“Drop the melodrama, Ben,” he said. “We pre<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span>fer -to listen to Inspector Mitchell and not to you. Go -on, Inspector.”</p> - -<p>But the Inspector was doomed to another interruption, -for as he hitched his chair closer to Nina -Potter, the sound of footsteps in the gallery circling -the library drew all eyes upward. With the aid of -his nurse, Ted Rodgers was making his way down -the gallery steps with faltering speed.</p> - -<p>“Don’t any one rise,” he begged, as they started -to their feet. Kitty was the first to reach his side.</p> - -<p>“Ted, is this wise, dear?” she asked, making no -attempt to conceal her anxiety. “How could you -let him get up, Miss Gray?”</p> - -<p>“She couldn’t help herself.” Rodgers gently but -firmly disengaged his hand from Kitty’s tender -clasp. “Go and sit down, dear; I’ll take this chair.”</p> - -<p>Miss Gray aided him in pulling out the throne-shaped -chair. By tacit consent the others had -avoided sitting in it. As Rodgers sank back, the -bandage on his head showed up plainly. Leigh Wallace -transferred his gaze elsewhere. Vividly before -him had loomed the memory of Miss Susan lying -dead in her throne-shaped chair on Monday morning. -Rodgers’ complexion matched the dead woman’s -in pallor. His exertions had made him deadly -faint and it was some seconds before he could gather -his strength to speak with clearness.</p> - -<p>“Don’t wait, Miss Gray,” he said courteously. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span>“They will call you if I need your aid. Thank you.” -Then as the nurse withdrew, he turned to Inspector -Mitchell. “Well, what news?”</p> - -<p>“Miss Baird,” Mitchell cleared his throat and -pointed to a typewritten manuscript which he had -lain before him on the table just as Rodgers joined -them. “You quarreled with your aunt on Sunday—”</p> - -<p>“We had an argument, I admit—” Kitty rubbed -one nervous hand over the other—they were both -cold.</p> - -<p>“It was more than an argument—it was a quarrel, -and about Major Leigh Wallace,” Mitchell’s manner -was dictatorial. “Don’t contradict me, madam, -I know.”</p> - -<p>“Well, what else do you know?” demanded -Craige, losing patience. “What’s that document you -have there, Mitchell?”</p> - -<p>“All in good time, sir.” Mitchell’s smile was tantalizing. -“You went out of here, Miss Baird, in a -rage, because your aunt had ordered you not to -return. Can you deny it?”</p> - -<p>“N—no.”</p> - -<p>“Stop a moment,” Craige held up his hand. “You -are not obliged to answer these questions, Kitty, except -in a law court. Don’t overstep your authority, -Mitchell.”</p> - -<p>Mitchell’s only answer was to shrug his heavy -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span>shoulders, and look across the table at Kitty. “Miss -Baird,” he began. “You purchased some peaches -for Mrs. Parsons on Saturday—”</p> - -<p>She looked at him dumbly. Then at Mrs. Parsons, -who gazed back at her in silent astonishment. -“I bought some fruit for her on Saturday,” she admitted. -“But if there were any peaches in the basket, -they were there unknown to me.”</p> - -<p>Mitchell smiled significantly. “Pretty thin,” he -commented, and glanced over at Craige, before -again addressing her. “You stopped to see Mrs. -Parsons on Sunday morning, Miss Baird—and you -brought those peaches home to your aunt.”</p> - -<p>“I did not!” Kitty’s voice rang out clearly. “I -was at Mrs. Parsons’ for a few minutes on Sunday -on my way from church—”</p> - -<p>“With Major Wallace?”</p> - -<p>Kitty changed color. “Yes.”</p> - -<p>“And Major Wallace went into the house with -you?”</p> - -<p>Kitty paused in uncertainty and her eyes sought -Wallace. He sat lolling back in his chair, his air of -indifference plainly assumed as his restless fingers -played with the catch of Mrs. Parsons’ gold mesh -bag.</p> - -<p>“I went upstairs to see Mrs. Parsons,” she explained. -“I left Major Wallace standing in the -vestibule—”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p> - -<p>“And the front door open—” Mitchell broke in -rudely. He turned to Mrs. Parsons. “Your house -is an English basement, with the drawing room on -the second floor. Where is your dining room?”</p> - -<p>“On the first floor.” Mrs. Parsons had been following -the dialogue with unwavering attention. At -her answer Mitchell nodded his head with an air -of triumph.</p> - -<p>“I’ll amend my statement, Miss Baird,” he said. -“You did not carry those peaches home to your aunt, -but Major Wallace did—when he called here to see -her alone on Sunday afternoon.”</p> - -<p>Wallace’s air of indifference dropped from him -and he swung to his feet, his hands clenched. -“You’re a damned liar!” he shouted.</p> - -<p>“Shouting won’t help matters,” Mitchell remarked. -“For I have the goods on you.” He tapped -the papers in front of him. “Here is the sworn -testimony of Mrs. Murray, who saw you enter this -house on Sunday afternoon with a paper package -under your arm, and when you left you carried no -package and were so agitated that you weren’t even -conscious of bumping into Mrs. Murray as you hurried -down the street toward Washington.”</p> - -<p>Wallace stared at the Inspector and then at the -others, but always his eyes passed over Nina Potter, -sitting huddled in her chair, her eyes upraised in -mute pleading.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Well,” his voice was hoarse—discordant. “What -if I did bring some peaches to Miss Susan as a -‘peace offering?’” His lips twitched into a ghastly -smile. “It doesn’t follow that I murdered her.”</p> - -<p>“No—?” Mitchell’s tone expressed incredulity. -“That’s for the jury to decide.” He looked across -at Kitty. “You I charge with being an accessory -to the crime.”</p> - -<p>Charles Craige was the first to speak. “You -bring a serious charge against my godchild,” he said -sternly. “I demand your proof.”</p> - -<p>Mitchell turned slightly to address the man on his -left. “How about it, Mr. Potter?” he asked.</p> - -<p>Potter seemed to have some difficulty in speaking, -for a moment elapsed before he answered.</p> - -<p>“Kitty spent Sunday night with us,” he began. -“I came home late, having been detained at my club, -and was surprised to see Kitty walk out of my -apartment house and jump into Major Wallace’s -car—”</p> - -<p>He got no further. Kitty was on her feet, her -face scarlet.</p> - -<p>“You saw me?” she cried. “Me!”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” meeting her gaze unwaveringly. “I recognized -your red coat.” He paused, then added -slowly, “I followed you to Georgetown and saw you -enter this house—”</p> - -<p>Kitty dropped back in her chair as if shot. Her -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span>eyes wandered from Nina Potter, sitting with head -averted, to Wallace, who stared straight in front of -him, and then to Ted Rodgers, who sat with closed -eyes, his head resting against the high back of the -throne-shaped chair. No one broke the tense silence -and after a brief pause Mitchell spoke.</p> - -<p>“You got your aunt’s fortune, Miss Baird—and -then you got cold feet—” he paused dramatically. -“There was one man who suspected you, and so you -tried to do away with him. I found your revolver, -with one chamber discharged in the bottom of Mr. -Rodgers’ car—”</p> - -<p>“So I have heard,” Kitty’s fighting spirit was -coming to her aid. It had conquered her feeling of -deadly faintness, and she faced them, white-lipped -but with blazing eyes. “And who was with you, -Inspector, when you made that discovery?”</p> - -<p>“My chauffeur and Mr. Potter.”</p> - -<p>“Is that so?” Kitty’s smile was peculiar as she -glanced at her cousin. “Has it occurred to you that -it may be manufactured evidence?”</p> - -<p>Mitchell looked at her in astonishment. “Are you -accusing your cousin of lying?”</p> - -<p>“He is accusing me of a far more despicable -crime,” she retorted. “Of wilfully aiding in the -murder of my aunt, of trying to kill the man whom, -last night, I promised to marry—” she faced them -proudly, her heart beating with suffocating rapidity. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span>Why, why had not Ted Rodgers spoken in her defense? -“Mr. Rodgers,” she went on, after an almost -imperceptible pause, “was shot by a person -riding in a car which passed us when we were driving -in Rock Creek Park last night. When I left -this house with Mr. Rodgers, my revolver was upstairs -in the drawer of my desk—” Again she -paused, finding speech difficult—her throat felt -parched and dry. “Upon my return I found not only -you waiting for me, Inspector Mitchell, but Mr. Potter. -My cousin knew where I kept my revolver; it -was no secret. He could easily have slipped upstairs -during the confusion of getting Mr. Rodgers to bed -and sending for a nurse and doctor, secured my revolver -and, unknown to you, dropped it in Mr. -Rodgers’ car—for the purpose of incriminating me.”</p> - -<p>“And Mr. Potter’s object in doing that?” questioned -Mitchell, as she came to a breathless pause.</p> - -<p>“Ask him—” and Kitty pointed to her cousin, who -had half risen, then dropped back in his chair. -Mitchell stared at them both for a second, then faced -the throne-shaped chair.</p> - -<p>“Can you tell us who shot you, Mr. Rodgers?” he</p> - -<p>Rodgers opened his eyes and faced their concentrated -attention.</p> - -<p>“Miss Baird,” he commenced, and Kitty almost -cried out at the formality of his address, “has told -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>you how the revolver might have been ‘planted’ in -my car to incriminate her. To be exact it was -thrown into the car by the person who shot me, and -with it a handkerchief.” He fumbled in his pocket -and pulled out a piece of linen, bloodstained and -torn. “You bound my head, did you not, before you -started to drive me home?” turning to Kitty.</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“My nurse—” Rodgers was speaking more clearly, -“showed me the handkerchiefs which Dr. McLean -had removed to put on a proper bandage,” -touching his head. “Look at that handkerchief, -Mitchell—and tell us what you see.”</p> - -<p>Mitchell spread out the costly linen so that all -could view it.</p> - -<p>“A woman’s handkerchief,” he remarked. -“There’s an initial in the corner—the letter—” holding -it closer—“the letter ‘P.’” In the utter stillness -that followed he laid down the handkerchief. -“‘P,’” he repeated musingly—“Potter.”</p> - -<p>A cry escaped Nina Potter and she shrank back -in her chair, her face buried in her hands, shaking -from head to foot. “Not that,” she gasped. “Not -that!”</p> - -<p>Ted Rodgers bent forward. “‘P’ stands as well -for ‘Parsons,’” he commented, and got no further.</p> - -<p>“Yo’se done said it!” gasped a voice behind them, -and Oscar, perspiration trickling down his black -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span>face, came forward, his arm tightly clutched by -Welsh, the plain clothes’ detective. “Dar’s de woman -who done up ole Miss,” shaking his fist in Mrs. -Parsons’ face. “I see’d her acreepin’ away from -here on Monday mawnin,’ an’—”</p> - -<p>“You—you—Oscar!” Mrs. Parsons’ voice rose -and cracked. Again she tried to speak in her natural -tones—“Oscar!”</p> - -<p>Kitty cried out—a chord of memory had been -touched—</p> - -<p>“It was you I heard trying to bribe Oscar!” she -exclaimed. “You!”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Parsons turned with livid face to Charles -Craige.</p> - -<p>“Charles—they—she—stop her!” She reeled -backward and Craige, awakening from his stupor, -flung Mouchette toward Kitty and reached forward -to catch Mrs. Parsons as she swayed dangerously -near the edge of her chair.</p> - -<p>The Angora cat, roused suddenly from her sleep, -missed Kitty by the fraction of an inch and alighted -in Mrs. Parsons’ lap. As the terrified woman attempted -to throw her down, the cat sank her claws -into her bare arm, tearing the delicate flesh with -gash after gash.</p> - -<p>The men sprang to Mrs. Parsons’ aid, but too -late. Her screams gave place to a gurgling cry and -she sank back a dead weight. Mitchell, kneeling by -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span>her side, stared at her convulsed features in horror -as his hand went to her wrist.</p> - -<p>“By God! She’s dead!” he gasped in awe. His -glance traveled downward. “Look—look at the -cat!” His shaking finger pointed to where Mouchette -sat licking first one paw and then the other. -A streak of blood was flowing from where she had -gashed herself in her fury. Suddenly they saw the -cat stiffen, throw back her head convulsively, roll -over and lie still.</p> - -<p>A clicking sound caused Inspector Mitchell to -whirl around in time to see a pair of handcuffs dangling -from Charles Craige’s wrists.</p> - -<p>“What—what?” he gasped.</p> - -<p>“Charles Craige—murderer of Miss Susan -Baird,” explained Rodgers. “Don’t move,” and a -revolver rested dangerously near Craige’s heart. -“Open your hand.” The command was accompanied -by a threatening movement of the revolver.</p> - -<p>Slowly, very slowly Craige did as he was told. -A small rubber bulb syringe dropped to the floor.</p> - -<p>“Don’t touch it,” Rodgers cried sharply, as Mitchell -bent down. “It is filled with the poison which -Craige sprayed on the cat’s paw—and thus killed -Cecelia Parsons, his fiancée.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p> - -<h2 id="CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII<br /> -GREED</h2></div> - -<p class="no-indent"><span class="dropcap">C</span><span class="smcap">harles Craige</span> sat staring into vacancy, -while beads of perspiration trickled -down his ghastly face. Several drops -slipped into his eyes and half blinded him. Raising -his hands he brushed them away. The action -brought the handcuffs encircling his wrists into -view. He regarded them apathetically, then his -uncomprehending gaze traveled over the horror-stricken -men and women grouped about his chair. -It was not until he saw Kitty Baird that the situation -dawned upon him. Before the others suspected -his intention, he sprang at her, his manacled hands -upraised to strike. The blow was turned aside by -Inspector Mitchell, who darted to Kitty’s assistance.</p> - -<p>“Hold him down in that chair, Welsh,” he directed -as the detective came to his aid. Rodgers, -whose false strength had departed, dropped into the -nearest chair, the revolver hanging useless in his -grasp. His shot, as Craige sprang forward, had -gone wild. Kitty was by his side in an instant.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’m all right,” he panted, as she bent over him. -“Don’t worry, my darling. Now, Craige, what -have you to say?”</p> - -<p>“Say?” Craige was winded from his exertions -and spoke with difficulty. “Why should I say anything?”</p> - -<p>“Because the game’s up,” Mitchell stated, and -stepped aside so that Craige had a clear view of -Cecelia Parsons. “Why did you kill that woman?”</p> - -<p>“I did not mean to kill Cecelia,” Craige shouted. -“God knows I did not.” His bloodshot eyes again -sought Kitty. “I threw the cat at you. Cecelia -called to me to stop you—”</p> - -<p>“Ah, so Mrs. Parsons aided you in your murder -of Miss Susan Baird,” broke in Mitchell.</p> - -<p>“She did not.” Craige, his tongue unloosened, -spoke in desperate haste, his words tripping over -one another. It seemed almost as if he gained courage -from the sound of his own voice. “Miss Susan -Baird was warned—but she would not listen to me.”</p> - -<p>“Why did you kill my aunt?” demanded Kitty, -indignation for the moment mastering her horror. -“She was always kind to you. She trusted you.”</p> - -<p>“Trust? It was greed which prompted her friendship.” -Craige laughed harshly, jeeringly. “It was -by my aid that she made her fortune. Do you know -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span>what she was—your aristocratic aunt—a money-lender!”</p> - -<p>Kitty stared at him—appalled. “It can’t be,” she -cried, and turned appealingly to Ted Rodgers. -“Make him tell the truth.”</p> - -<p>“I am speaking the truth,” Craige retorted. -“Many’s the person I’ve brought over here when -you, Kitty, were not around, and your aunt has -admitted us at that side door. She charged high -rates of interest, but no one gave her away. She -was square with them.”</p> - -<p>“Were you square with her?” asked Rodgers -quietly, and a dull red suffused Craige’s white face.</p> - -<p>“When I had to borrow, she treated me like the -others,” he answered. “The fact that I helped her -amass a fortune cut no ice. I got deeper and deeper -in debt, and then—” his voice changed. “I had to -have money, so I told her I wanted to marry you.”</p> - -<p>Kitty retreated, aghast. “Marry me? <i>You!</i>”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” coolly. “I am only fifty-four; there is not -such a difference in our ages. I saw your aunt on -Sunday about six o’clock. She laughed at me and -refused to consent to our marriage.” Beads of perspiration -had again gathered on his forehead, but he -went steadily on with his story, oblivious apparently -of the abhorrence with which his companions were -regarding him. “I had forged Miss Susan Baird’s -name in my desperation last week. I knew that if -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span>Kitty and I were married quickly, she would keep -quiet about the forgery for her family’s sake. When -she laughed my plan to scorn, I realized there was -only one thing to do—to kill her.”</p> - -<p>“How did you go about it?” asked Mitchell.</p> - -<p>It was some seconds before Craige answered. “I -went prepared for failure,” he admitted. “I could -not face ruin—perhaps the penitentiary for forgery. -My father was a famous expert in toxicology and,” -he moistened his lips—“I often worked in his -laboratory,” with a side glance at the bulb syringe -still lying where it had fallen on the floor. “I at -first planned to squeeze some poison in her tea cup, -but got no chance. Then Miss Baird asked me to -peel a peach for her. I don’t know where the -peaches came from, but there were three in a dish on -the table. Before cutting the peach in two, I sprayed -some hydrocyanic acid on the knife-blade when Miss -Baird was not looking, holding the knife just over -the edge of the table and the bulb in my left hand, -out of sight in my lap.”</p> - -<p>“It was devilishly ingenious,” commented Mitchell. -“Well, did you steal the forged paper after -killing the old lady?”</p> - -<p>“No.” Craige looked at Kitty with a faint sneer. -“It was among those canceled checks from the bank -which you so obligingly left in your desk yesterday -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span>alongside your revolver. I stole them both last -night.”</p> - -<p>“Last night?” Kitty looked at him in astonishment. -“Why, we found you at home last night, Ted -and I. We telephoned you first that we were coming -and—”</p> - -<p>“I answered the ’phone; quite so.” Craige’s smile -was peculiar. “My butler, Lambert, is well trained -and,” with emphasis, “well paid. He is quick at -recognizing the voices of my intimate friends. I -happened to be in Washington in my, eh, town -apartment,” with a sidelong look at Kitty. “From -there I have a direct wire to my switchboard in my -house, and Lambert plugged in your call. You -thought you were talking to me at ‘Hideaway,’ Rodgers, -whereas I wasn’t six blocks away from here.</p> - -<p>“I told Lambert to take care of you until I got -home, then hurried over here. I have a key to the -side door. It took but an instant to slip upstairs -to your room and to go through your desk. Mandy -never woke up, but that infernal cat,” with a vindictive -snarl. “I wish I had strangled her. When -I got back to ‘Hideaway,’ I found you and Kitty so -engaged with each other that I knew you never realized -the time I took to appear.”</p> - -<p>“So that was it!” Rodgers drew a long breath. -“And you followed us and tried to shoot me in the -Park!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes.” Craige favored him with a scowl. “I -got word yesterday that you were wise to the kind -of life I was leading—you knew too much. I detected -you watching me last night. If Kitty had not -swerved her car when she did, I’d have potted you, -for I’m a crack shot as a general thing.”</p> - -<p>“And did you throw the revolver into the car as -you dashed by?” asked Kitty.</p> - -<p>“Yes. I had tied a handkerchief loosely about -the butt of the revolver so as not to leave finger -prints,” Craige added. “It was clever of you, Rodgers, -to trace the handkerchief as you did. In my -haste that night, I never noticed that I had one of -Cecelia’s handkerchiefs in my pocket and none of my -own.” He paused, his voice had grown husky. -“Well, that clears up the mystery.”</p> - -<p>“All but Mrs. Parsons’ part in it,” broke in Rodgers. -“Where did she come in, Craige?”</p> - -<p>Craige’s color mounted, then receded, leaving him -deadly white.</p> - -<p>“She cut a big splurge here,” he began, “and soon -went through her money. She found out about -Miss Baird and came here early Monday morning, -knowing that Kitty was spending the night with her -cousins, hoping to borrow from Susan. She found -the front door open, so she told me, and walked in. -When she discovered Miss Baird lying dead in the -library, she bolted home and called up the police.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p> - -<p>“And why did she try to bribe Oscar?” demanded -Kitty.</p> - -<p>“She wanted some papers to prove that your aunt -was a money-lender,” Craige twisted about, his -growing uneasiness plainly indicated by his avoidance -of their gaze.</p> - -<p>“In other words,” cut in Mitchell. “Mrs. Parsons -hoped to blackmail Miss Kitty Baird by threatening -to expose her aunt’s career.”</p> - -<p>Craige nodded sullenly. “Something like that,” -he admitted.</p> - -<p>Rodgers had not taken his eyes from him. “Did -Mrs. Parsons know that you wished to marry -Kitty?” he asked.</p> - -<p>Craige shifted his feet about. “No,” he muttered.</p> - -<p>“Did she know that you killed Miss Susan -Baird?” Rodgers was persistent in his questioning.</p> - -<p>“I’m not sure,” Craige glanced up at him quickly, -then dropped his eyes. The sight of his handcuffs -sent a shiver down his spine and he again shifted his -gaze.</p> - -<p>“Mrs. Parsons done picked up dat ar’ rubber ball -befo’ she left on Monday mawnin’,” volunteered -Oscar. The old man had been a fascinated witness -of all that transpired; his face, gray from fright at -the death of Cecelia Parsons, had regained its nor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span>mal -hue somewhat, but his eyes still bulged from -his head.</p> - -<p>“She did!” A startled look crept into Craige’s -ever shifting eyes. “Why, I found the cat playing -with the syringe when I first entered this room. I -knew that I had dropped it on Sunday, probably -when I reëntered the library after Susan Baird -screamed.” A shudder shook him, in spite of his -iron self-control. “Seeing it here this afternoon, I -supposed it had rolled in some corner, and been overlooked. -I judged that the cat had selected it as a -plaything.”</p> - -<p>“It’s a wonder the cat didn’t poison herself,” commented -Mitchell.</p> - -<p>Craige’s face was distorted into what he meant -for a smile. “There wasn’t a drop of poison left in -the syringe,” he said. “I considered finding it a -direct act of Providence, for I expected trouble of -some kind, and brought with me a small phial of a -concentrated solution of crotalidae—”</p> - -<p>“What’s that?” asked Mitchell.</p> - -<p>“Snake venom, and deadly when introduced into -the blood,” explained Craige. “It’s sometimes used -in drugs given by homeopathists. During the few -minutes I was alone in the library I put the poison -in the syringe.”</p> - -<p>“But if Mrs. Parsons carried away the syringe on -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span>Monday morning, how did it get back in this library -to-day?” asked Kitty.</p> - -<p>“She probably guessed that it was used to kill -Miss Susan Baird in some way, and brought it back -to incriminate Miss Kitty Baird,” declared Mitchell. -“Mrs. Parsons was as clever as they make -them, but she overreached herself when she tried to -involve you, Mr. Rodgers. I kept the wires to San -Francisco hot until I found out that the papers she -produced to prove that you were involved in the -Holt will forgery were ones found in Gentleman -Jake’s house, when he and his confederates were -trying to forge Holt’s will.” He turned to Craige. -“Did you put Mrs. Parsons up to that deviltry, Mr. -Craige?”</p> - -<p>Craige ignored the question and Potter broke his -long silence.</p> - -<p>“I imagine he did,” he said. “Mrs. Parsons was -the divorced wife of Gentleman Jake, and later she -married Amos Parsons. He left some property and -she came east. She’d have lived straight, Craige, if -it hadn’t been for you.”</p> - -<p>“Craige,” Mitchell’s harsh voice made the lawyer -turn with a nervous jump. “Did you conceal that -small bottle of prussic acid in the ivory dice cup?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” sullenly, then with a venomous glance at -Kitty. “I hoped to involve you.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You yellow devil!” Ted Rodgers rose and -stepped toward him, but Mitchell intervened.</p> - -<p>“The law will deal with him, Mr. Rodgers; stand -back, Sir. Now, Craige, come on—” and, at a sign, -Welsh, the detective, took his place by the lawyer.</p> - -<p>Twice Craige tried to get upon his feet, only to -sway back into his seat. He had aged in the past -hour, and when he finally stood upright his shoulders -sagged forward and his trembling knees seemed -unable to support him.</p> - -<p>“Catch him on the other side, Welsh,” Mitchell -directed. “Mr. Potter, please telephone to Coroner -Penfield.” With a jerk of his head he indicated the -prone figure behind them. “Mrs. Parsons cannot be -moved until he gets here. Come, Craige.”</p> - -<p>Craige moved forward a few hesitating steps and -then halted. An irresistible attraction which he -could not conquer drew his eyes toward Cecelia Parsons. -Whatever emotion he felt he controlled admirably. -He stood for a moment motionless, then, -without glancing to right or left, he squared his -shoulders and swinging around strode arrogantly -from the library, the two men on either side walking -rapidly to keep up with him.</p> - -<p>The silence in the library grew oppressive and -Kitty was conscious of a feeling almost of nausea -when Nina Potter came toward her.</p> - -<p>“Kitty,” she said brokenly. “I did you a very -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span>great wrong when I wore your red coat to come here -on Sunday night with Leigh.”</p> - -<p>“Did you not do your husband a greater wrong?” -Kitty asked swiftly.</p> - -<p>“No.” Nina flushed scarlet. “I am a coward, -but I am a loyal wife.”</p> - -<p>“I am entirely to blame,” Leigh Wallace turned -and addressed Potter directly. “I was once engaged -to your wife. We quarreled and she broke it off. -I never saw or heard from her again until we met -this winter. Nina would not let me pay her any -attention, so, forgive me, Kitty, I went with you -because I could be with Nina without arousing talk,” -he hesitated.</p> - -<p>No one spoke, and, after an instant’s pause, Wallace -continued:</p> - -<p>“On Saturday night Oscar brought me a note -from Miss Susan Baird asking me to come here -on Sunday at five o’clock. I did take the peaches -from Mrs. Parsons’ table on a silly impulse, for I -knew Miss Baird was fond of them and thought that -I could placate her with a gift.</p> - -<p>“When I got here she told me how my father had -jilted her and of her hatred of me. She declared -that she had secured, through bribing one of Nina’s -servants, some old love letters of mine—they were -undated, and she proposed showing them to Ben -Potter. I tried in every way to induce her to return -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span>them to me, even offering a large sum of money. -She ordered me out of the house,” he paused. “Then -I went to Nina and asked her to see Miss Baird and -try to get her to give up the letters.”</p> - -<p>“So I came over here with Leigh on Sunday -night,” Nina Potter took up the story. “Miss Susan -had loaned me your red coat, Kitty, last Wednesday -to wear home when it blew up so cold. The coat is -distinctive in appearance, and—well—” she faltered—“I -knew if any one saw me, there was a chance I -might be mistaken for you. Afterwards I got rid -of the coat by selling it to a second-hand dealer.” -She caught her husband’s averted gaze and colored -painfully.</p> - -<p>“Leigh left me at the side door of ‘Rose Hill,’” -she added. “I entered the library—saw Miss Susan -sitting there—dead—” she covered her eyes with -her hand as if to shut out some terrifying vision and -a shudder shook her. “I must have fainted, for it -was late when I stole out of the house. I left by the -front door, and in my terror I put the big key in the -lock on the outside with some idea of locking poor -Miss Susan in the house. I heard an automobile -coming and ran away, forgetting to turn the key in -the lock after all. When I got home I found Ben -had not gotten in and that you were still asleep, -Kitty—so—” she faltered again and glanced appealingly -at her husband.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span></p> - -<p>Potter stirred uneasily. “I drove around a bit,” -he said. “Kitty, as I thought, coming over here at -that time of night with Wallace troubled me, and I -wanted time to think things over. When I heard of -Cousin Susan’s murder—well, I—well, I kept silent -until my jealousy of Wallace drove me to try and -implicate Kitty and him in the crime.</p> - -<p>“I saw you, Ted,” he turned to Rodgers, “come -out of a second-hand clothing store on Pennsylvania -Avenue with Kitty’s coat on your arm. The dealer -told me that you had just paid twenty dollars for it. -I decided that if the coat was worth that to you, it -might be worth double the money to me: so I bribed -the dealer to buy the coat back from you. When -that scheme failed, I went to your apartment—”</p> - -<p>“Where you failed again,” broke in Rodgers. -“Your coat was accidentally burned up, Kitty, all -except one pocket. In that pocket I found the clue -which gave the first inkling that Charles Craige -might have murdered your aunt—”</p> - -<p>“What was it?” demanded Kitty breathlessly.</p> - -<p>“An ‘I.O.U.,’ which your aunt must have slipped -inside the coat pocket and forgotten. The signature -was obliterated, but I recognized Craige’s handwriting,” -Rodgers explained. “It showed me that Craige -was under heavy financial obligations to Miss Susan -Baird while all the time he protested absolute ignor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span>ance -of her wealth. I immediately started to investigate -Craige’s career, and it was that investigation, -as he said a few minutes ago, which forced his hand -last night—”</p> - -<p>“And he nearly killed you!” Kitty’s eyes were -shining as she faced her lover. “You endangered -your life for me—”</p> - -<p>Regardless of the others’ presence Rodgers drew -her to his side.</p> - -<p>“Sweetheart,” he murmured. “Sweetheart—”</p> - -<p>“Ahem!” Ben Potter cleared his throat, and -faced the others.</p> - -<p>“Did you get your letters, Nina?” he asked, turning -to his wife.</p> - -<p>“Not then, only this afternoon,” she explained. -“I found them in a box under the mattress of Miss -Susan’s bed. Mrs. Parsons suspected that I was -searching for something, for yesterday she told me -that for a considerable sum of money she would aid -me.”</p> - -<p>“That woman was a fiend incarnate!” ejaculated -Rodgers.</p> - -<p>“She sho’ly was, Sah,” agreed Oscar. “She done -her bes’ to make me tell de police that ole Miss let -people have money. Yo’ see, Miss Kitty, ole Miss -had me to help her, an’ I promised never to tell, an’ -I never broke my promise, never.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oscar!” Kitty’s eyes were dim with tears as she -laid her hand on the faithful servant’s shoulder. -“Where did you disappear yesterday?”</p> - -<p>“Jes’ went down to my rooms an’ laid low,” -promptly. “Mandy an’ me thought things were gettin’ -kinda critical ’round hyar. Las’ night I heered -yo’ an’ Mister Rodgers a-plannin’ to see Mister -Craige, an’ then I went home again, scared stiff.”</p> - -<p>“Wait, Oscar—” Rodgers interrupted him quickly. -“Why did you ask me to find Miss Kitty’s red -coat?”</p> - -<p>“I seen some one a-wearin’ dat coat enter dis -house as I was passin’ along de street late Sunday -night,” the negro explained. “I couldn’t swear it -warn’t yo’, Miss Kitty, an’ I couldn’t swear it were; -but I calculated dat whoever ’twas might a lef’ somethin’ -in de coat pockets to tell on them.”</p> - -<p>“It was a clever thought,” exclaimed Rodgers. -“But it would have been better had you taken me -entirely into your confidence, Oscar.”</p> - -<p>“Yessir.” But Oscar looked doubtful. “I was -mighty concarned ’bout Miss Kitty, ’deed I was, -Sah. It warn’t ’till jes’ a spell back that that detecertif -man, Mister Welsh, who tried to find me in -Front Royal an’ at las’ found me to home, ’splained -to me I had orter be hyar wif yo’, Honey, Miss -Kitty, so then I comed round wif him.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p> - -<p>Leigh Wallace heard the old man to the end, then -stared moodily across the library. He started for -the doorway and turned around.</p> - -<p>“I’ve destroyed your letters, Nina,” he said. “I, -forgive me, I feared that you had killed Miss Susan -Baird on Sunday night. That was why I was so -overcome when the crime was discovered. Mr. -Potter,” he spoke with deep feeling. “Your wife -loves you devotedly. I am but a forgotten incident -in her life. I received my orders for foreign service -to-day. Good-by.” He clicked his heels together -and with a bow which included all in the library, -turned and strode from the room.</p> - -<p>At sound of the front door closing, Potter stepped -forward. He was oblivious of any one’s presence -but his wife.</p> - -<p>“Nina, can you forgive me?” he asked humbly. -“I have acted the part of a jealous fool.”</p> - -<p>Nina’s answer was not in words. With a face in -which joy obliterated the shadow of the past few -days, she slipped her arm within his and he led her -from the room.</p> - -<p>“Doan yo’ wait hyar, Miss Kitty—” Oscar came -forward a pace. “Jes’ you an’ Mister Rodgers go -right along. I’ll stay wid dis—” and he nodded -significantly at Rodgers. The latter turned to take -a last survey of the library. Not far from Cecelia -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span>Parsons lay a small furry body—both were rigid -in death.</p> - -<p>“Come, sweetheart—” Rodgers slipped his arm -around Kitty and they walked toward the drawing -room. Once there Kitty gave way to the grief consuming -her.</p> - -<p>“Poor Aunt Susan—how could Charles Craige -have had the heart to kill her!” she exclaimed. “He -was her trusted friend.”</p> - -<p>“He was a man of masks,” Rodgers said gravely. -“A man of character, well educated, a social favorite -and a brilliant lawyer, but heredity proved too -strong for him.” And as Kitty looked at him in -question, he added, “Were you not aware that his -father died insane?”</p> - -<p>Kitty shook her head. “I never knew it,” she -said. “How dreadful! The whole affair—Aunt -Susan’s death—her life, oh, Ted, her life!”</p> - -<p>“Hush!” Rodgers laid his finger gently on her -lips. “Let us forget the tragedy in our happiness.”</p> - -<p>Glancing shyly upward, Kitty read the worship in -his eyes and her rapidly beating heart sang a glad -response.</p> - -<p>“All my life I have prayed for love,” she murmured -as he took her in his arms; “even when I was -only a little lonely child—and now to feel such hap<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span>piness -as I never even imagined. To have you with -me always—”</p> - -<p>“In our Kingdom of Love”—Rodgers’ tender, -caressing voice was melody in her ears—“My queen—my -queen!”</p> - -<p class="center no-indent">THE END</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="transnote ph3">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div> - -<p class="no-indent"> -Minor changes have been made to correct obvious misspellings and -typesetter errors, and to regularize hyphenation.</p> - -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CAT'S PAW ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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