"Glancing in the direction indicated by Jim, I saw that Carnes was engaged in a fisticuff bout with Tom Briggs, and hastened to interpose;"—page 114."Glancing in the direction indicated by Jim, I saw that Carnes was engaged in a fisticuff bout with Tom Briggs, and hastened to interpose;"—page 114.
"Barney," I said, severely, "you have been drinking too much, I am sure. Stop this ruffianism at once."
"Is it ruffianism yer callin' it, ter defend yerself aginst the murtherin' shnake; and ain't it all bekase I hild up his fist fer fear the blundherin' divil ud shoot yees by mishtake! Och, then, didn't I make the illigant rhyme though?"
"You have made yourself very offensive to me, sir, by the part you have taken in this affair," I retorted, with additional sternness; "and so long as you remain in my service you will please to remember that I desire you to avoid the society of loafers and brawlers."
"Meanin' me, I suppose?" snarled Tom Briggs.
"Meaning you inthisinstance," I retorted, turning away from the two, with all the dignity I could muster for the occasion.
"Bedad, he's got his blood up," muttered Carnes, ruefully, as I walked away. "Old Red Top, shake! Seein' as I'm to be afther howldin' myself above yees in future, I won't mind yer airs jist now, an' if iver I git twenty dollars ahead I'll discharge yon blood an' be me own bye."
Satisfied that this bit of by-play had had the desired effect, and being sure that Carnes would not leave the premises so long as there remained anything or any one likely to prove interesting, I turned my steps townward, musing as I went.
I had made, or so I believed, three discoveries.
Dr. Carl Bethel was the victim of a deep laid plot, of which this affair of the morning was but the beginning.
Dr. Carl Bethel was in love with the fair Miss Barnard.
And the brilliant owner of the treasure-ship jewels was in love with Dr. Carl Bethel.
Whether Bethel was aware of the plot, or suspected his enemies; whether he was really what he seemed, or only playing a part like myself; whether to warn him and so risk bringing myself under suspicion, or to let matters take their natural course and keep a sharp lookout meantime;—were questions which I asked myself again and again, failing to find a satisfactory answer.
On one thing I decided, however. Bethel was a self-reliant man. He was keen and courageous, quite capable of being more than he seemed. He was not a man to be satisfied with half truth. I must give him my fullest confidence or not seek his.
It was growing dusk before I saw Carnes again that day. I had remained in my room since dinner, wishing to avoid as much as possible the gossip and natural inquiry that would follow the denouement of the raid against Dr. Bethel, lest some suspicious mind should think me too much interested, considering the part I had taken in the affair.
Carnes came in softly, and wearing upon his face the peculiar knowing grin that we at the office had named his "Fox smile." He held in his hand a folded slip of paper, which he dropped upon my knee, and then drew back, without uttering a comment, to watch my perusal of the same.
It was very brief, simply a penciled line from Dr. Barnard, asking me to tea at seven o'clock. It was almost seven as I read.
"Where did you get this?" I asked, rising with sudden alacrity, and beginning a hurried toilet. "Read it Carnes, if you haven't already; I should have had it earlier."
Carnes took up the note, perused it, and tossed it on the bed, then, seating himself astride a chair, he told his story, watching my progressing toilet with seeming interest the while.
"After my tender parting with Briggs, I sherried over and made myself agreeable to Jim Long, and as I was uncommon respectful and willin' to be harangued, he sort o' took me as handy boy, an' let me stay an help him tidy up Bethel's place. He cleared out the multitude, put the yard into decent order, and then, while he undertook to rehang the doctor's front door, I'm blest if he didn't setmeto pilin' up the hay stack. Don't wear that beast of a choker, man, it makes you look like a laughing hyena."
I discarded the condemned choker, swallowed the doubtful compliment, and Carnes continued, lapsing suddenly into broad Irish:
"Prisintly he comes out to the shtack, as I was finishin' the pile, tellin' me as he must have some new hinges to the doctor's door, an' axin would I shtay an' kape house till he wint up fer the iron works. I consinted."
"Yes!" eagerly.
"And I made good use of the opportunity. I wint over that place in a way to break the heart of a jenteel crook, an' I'm satisfied."
"Of what, Carnes?"
"That there's no irregularity about the doctor. If there was a track as big as a fly's foot wouldn't I have hit it? Yes, sir! There ain't no trace of the detective-in-ambush about those premises, Tom Briggs to the contrary notwithstanding. He's a regular articled medical college graduate; there's plenty of correspondence to prove him Dr. Carl Bethel, and nothing to prove him anything else."
"Quite likely," I replied, not yet wholly convinced; "Bethel is not the man to commit himself; he'd be very sure not to leave a trace of his 'true inwardness' about the premises, if hewereon a still hunt. How about the note, Carnes?"
"Oh, the note! Well, when Jim came back, about fifteen minutes ago, or so, he gave me that, saying that he called at Dr. Barnard's to ask for instructions from Bethel, and was handed that note to leave for you. Jim says that he forgot to stop with the note; but I'm inclined to think that he wanted to dispose of me and took this way to avoid hurting my feelings."
"Well, I shall be late at Dr. Barnard's, owing to Jim's notions of delicacy," I said, turning away from the mirror and hurriedly brushing my hat. "However, I can explain the tardiness. By-by, Carnes; we will talk this day's business over when I have returned."
Dr. Barnard's pleasant dwelling was scarce five minutes' walk from our hotel; and I was soon making my bow in the presence of the doctor, his wife and daughter, Miss Manvers, and Dr. Bethel.
As I look back upon that evening I remember Louise Barnard as at once the loveliest, the simplest and most charmingly cultivated woman I have ever met. Graceful without art, self-possessed without ostentation, beautiful as a picture, without seeming to have sought by artifices of the toilet to heighten the effect of her statuesque loveliness.
Adele Manvers was also beautiful; no, handsome is the more appropriate word for her; but in face, form, coloring, dress, and manner, a more decided contrast could not have been deliberately planned.
Miss Barnard was the lovely lady; Miss Manvers, the daintily clad, fair woman of fashion.
Miss Barnard was tall, slender, dazzlingly beautiful, with soft fair hair and the features of a Greek goddess. Miss Manvers was a trifle below the medium height, a piquant brunette, plump, shapely, a trifle haughty, and inclined to self-assertion.
Miss Barnard wore soft flowing draperies, and her hair as nature intended it to be worn. Miss Manvers wore another woman's hair in defiance of nature, and her dress was fashion's last conceit,—a "symphony" in silks and ruffles and bewildering draperies.
Miss Barnard was dignified and somewhat reticent. Miss Manvers was talkative and vivacious.
They had learned from Jim Long all that he could tell them concerning the part I had taken in the affair of the morning. The elder physician desired to express his approbation, the younger his gratitude. They had sent for me that I might hear what they had to say on the subject of the grave robbery, and to ask my opinion and advice as to future movements.
All this was communicated to me by the voluble old doctor, who was sitting in an invalid's chair, being as yet but half recovered from his neuralgic attack of the morning. We had met on several occasions, but I had no previous knowledge of his family.
"There will be no further trouble about this matter," said Dr. Barnard, as we sat in the cool, cosy parlor after our late tea. "Our people have known me too long to doubt my word, and my simple statement of my absolute knowledge concerning all of Bethel's movements will put out the last spark of suspicion, so far asheis concerned—but," bringing the palm of his large hand down upon the arm of his chair with slow emphasis, "it won't settle the question next in order.Who are the guilty ones?"
"That I shall make it my business to find out," said Dr. Bethel, seriously, "I confess that at first I was unreasonably angry, at the thought of the suspicion cast upon me. On second thought it was but natural. I am as yet a stranger among you, and Trafton evidently believes it wise to 'consider every man a rogue until he is proved honest.'"
"From what I have heard since coming here," I ventured, "I should say Trafton has some reason for adopting this motto."
"So she has; so she has," broke in the old doctor. "And some one had a reason for attempting to throw suspicion upon Bethel."
"Evidently," said Bethel. "I am puzzled to guess what that reason can be, and I dispose of the theory that would naturally come up first, namely, that it is a plot to destroy the public confidence in me, set on foot by rival doctors, by saying, at the outset, that I don't believe there is a medical man in or about Trafton capable of such a deed. I have all confidence in my professional brethren."
"Why," interposed Miss Manvers, "the sentiment does you honor, Dr. Bethel, but—I should think the other doctors your most natural enemies. Who else could,"—she broke off abruptly with an appealing glance at Louise Barnard.
"I think Dr. Bethel is right," said Miss Barnard, in her low, clear contralto. "I cannot think either of our doctors capable of a deed so shameful." Then turning to address me, she added, "You, as a stranger among us, may see the matter in a more reasonable light. How does it look to you?"
"Taking the doctor's innocence as a foregone conclusion," I replied, "it looks as though he had an enemy in Trafton," here I turned my eyes full upon the face of Bethel, "who wished to drive him out of the community by making him unpopular in it."
Bethel's face wore the same expression of mystified candor, his eyes met mine full and frankly, as he replied:
"Takingthatas a foregone conclusion, we arrive at the point of starting, Who are the guilty ones? Who are my enemies? I have been uniformly successful in my practice; I have had no differences, disagreement, or disputes with any man in Trafton. Up to to-day I could have sworn I had not an enemy in the town."
"And so could I," said Dr. Barnard. "It's a case for a wiser head than mine."
"It's a case for the detectives," said Dr. Bethel, firmly. "If this unknown foe thinks to drive me from Trafton, he must try other measures. I intend to remain, and to solve this mystery."
A moment's silence followed this decided announcement.
The old doctor nodded his approval, his daughter looked hers.
Miss Manvers sat with eyes fixed upon a spot in the carpet, biting nervously at her full red under lip, and tapping the floor with the toe of her dainty boot.
I had no desire to take a prominent part in the discussion which followed, and became as much as I could a mere observer, but, as after events proved, I made very good use of my eyes that night.
Having exhausted the subject of the grave robbery without arriving at any new conclusions, the social old doctor proposed a game of whist, cards being his chief source of evening pastime. The game was made up, Miss Manvers taking a seat opposite Dr. Barnard, and Dr. Bethel playing with Mrs. Barnard.
After watching their game for a time, Miss Barnard and myself retired to the piano. She sang several songs in a tender contralto, to a soft, well-rendered accompaniment, and as I essayed my thanks and ventured to praise her singing, she lifted her clear eyes to mine, saying, in an undertone:
"Don't think me odd, or too curious—but—will you answer a question—frankly?"
I promised, recklessly; and she ran her pretty fingers over the keys, drowning our voices, for other ears, under the soft ripple of the notes, while she questioned and I replied.
"As a stranger, and an unprejudiced person," she began, "how does this shameful charge against Dr. Bethel appear to you? Judging him as men judge men, do you think hecouldbe guilty of such a deed?"
"Judging him by my limited knowledge of human nature," I replied, "I should say that Dr. Bethel is incapable of baseness in any form. In this case, he is certainly innocent."
She looked thoughtfully down at the white, gliding fingers, and said:
"We have seen so much of Dr. Bethel since he came to Trafton, that he seems quite like an old friend, and because of his being associated with father, it makes his trouble almost a personal matter. I do hope it will end without further complications."
She looked up in my face as if hoping that my judgment accorded with her wish, but I made no reply, finding silence easier and pleasanter than equivocation when dealing with a nature so frank and fearlessly truthful.
The game of whist being at an end, Miss Manvers arose almost immediately and declared it time to go. She had sent her phæton home, her house being less than a quarter of a mile from Dr. Barnard's, and according to the custom of informal Trafton, I promptly offered myself as escort, and was promptly and smilingly accepted.
"What a day this has been," said Miss Manvers, as the doctor's iron gate closed behind us. "Such a terrible charge to bring against Dr. Bethel. Do you really think," and, spite her evident intention to make the question sound common-place, I could detect the genuine anxiety in it, "Do you really think that it will—injure his practice to the extent of—driving him from Trafton?"
"You heard what he said, Miss Manvers."
"Oh, yes—but if I am rightly informed, Dr. Bethel is, in a measure at least, dependent on his practice. Is not this so?"
"You are better advised than I, Miss Manvers; I know so little of Dr. Bethel."
"And yet you were his warmest champion to-day."
"I assure you I felt quite cool," I laughed. "I should have done as much for the merest stranger, under the same circumstances."
"Then you are not prejudiced in his favor?"
"I am not prejudiced at all. I like Bethel."
"And so do I," replied the heiress, heartily, "and I like the spirit he shows in this matter. Is not this—a—exhuming of a subject, a frequent occurrence?"
"Undoubtedly."
"I mean—is it not often done by medical men?"
"By them, or persons employed by them. I suppose so."
She drew a little nearer, lifting an earnest face to meet my gaze.
"Candidly, now," she said, "as if I were not Miss Manvers, but a man to be trusted. Do you think it impossible that Dr. Bethel has done this thing? Viewed from a scientific and practical standpoint, does such a deed appear to you to be the horrible thingsomeseem to think it?"
"Candidly, now," she said, "as if I were not Miss Manvers, but a man to be trusted. Do you think it impossible that Dr. Bethel has done this thing?"—page 129."Candidly, now," she said, "as if I were not Miss Manvers, but a man to be trusted. Do you think it impossible that Dr. Bethel has done this thing?"—page 129.
What spirit prompted my answer? I never knew just what impelled me, but I looked down into the pretty, upturned face, looked straight into the dark, liquid eyes, and answered:
"Candidly, Miss Manvers—as you are certainly as much to be trusted as if you were a man—when I went to Bethel's defense, I went supposing that, for the benefit of science and the possible good of his fellow-beings, hehadexhumed the body."
She drew a short, quick breath.
"And you have changed your opinion?" she half asserted, half inquired.
I laid the fingers of my gloved left hand lightly upon hers, as it rested on my arm, and bent lower toward the glowing brunette face as I answered:
"I have not said so."
She dropped her eyes and mused for a moment, then—
"Do you think he willactuallycall in a detective—to—to make his innocence seem more probable?"
"I hope he will not," I replied, sincerely this time, but with a hidden meaning.
"I don't think that Mr. Beale will desire further investigation. The matter will die out, undoubtedly. Mr. Barnard is a man of powerful influence in the community, and 'Squire Brookhouse will usehisinfluence in behalf of Dr. Bethel, I am sure." Then, looking up again, quickly: "Do you not admire Miss Barnard?"
"Miss Barnard is 'a thing of beauty,'" I rejoined, sententiously; then, with a downward glance that pointed my sentence, "I admire all lovely women."
She laughed lightly, but said no more of Miss Barnard, or Dr. Bethel, and we parted with some careless badinage, supplemented by her cordial hope that I would prolong my stay in Trafton, and that she should see me often at The Hill.
Going slowly homeward, through the August darkness, I mentally voted the treasure-ship heiress a clever, agreeable, and charming young lady, and spent some time in trying to decide whether her delightful cordiality was a token that I had pleased, or only amused her. Such is the vanity of man!
I found Carnes wide awake, smoking and waiting.
"Have ye done wid yer gallivantin'?" queried he, the instant I made my appearance. "Now, thin, be shquare; which is the purtyest gurl?"
"How do you know there were two, sir?"
"Inshtinct," he retorted, shamelessly. "I knew by the peculiar feelin' av the cords av me arums. I say, what a thunderin' lot o' snarly bushes old Barnyard kapes about his windys!"
"What! you were up there?" I cried, in astonishment.
"Worrunt I," he retorted, complacently. "An' I wasn't the only one!"
"Carnes!"
"Och, take off yer mittens an' sit down," he said, grinning offensively at my mighty efforts to draw off a pair of tight and moist kid gloves. "Warn't I up there, an' I could ave told ye all about the purty gals mysilf, an' what sort av blarney ye gave till em both, if it had not been fer the murtherin' baste of a shnake as got inter the scrubbery ahead av me."
I threw aside the damp gloves, and seated myself directly in front of him.
"Now, talk business," I said, impatiently. "It's getting late, and there's a good deal to be said."
Carnes reached out for the pipe which he had laid aside at my entrance, lighted it with due deliberation, and then said, with no trace of his former absurdity:
"I don't know what sent me strolling and smoking up toward Dr. Barnard's place, but I did go. My pipe went out, and I stopped to light it, stepping off the sidewalk just where the late lilacs hang over the fence at the foot of the garden. While I stood there, entirely hidden by the darkness and the shade, a man came walking stealthily down the middle of the road. His very gait betrayed the sneak, and I followed him, forgetting my pipe and keeping to the soft grass. He seemed to know just where to go for, although he moved cautiously, there was no hesitation. Well, he passed the gate, climbed the fence, sneaked up to the front of the house, skulking between the trees and rose bushes directly underneath the parlor window. I took the bearings as well as I could from a distance, and I made up my mind that the fellow, if he heard anything, could hardly catch the thread of the discourse, and I reckon I was right in my conclusions for, after a good deal of prospecting around, he sneaked away as he came, and I followed him back to Porter's store."
"Well he passed the gate, climbed the fence, sneaked up to the front of the house, skulking between the trees and rose bushes directly underneath the parlor window."—page 132."Well he passed the gate, climbed the fence, sneaked up to the front of the house, skulking between the trees and rose bushes directly underneath the parlor window."—page 132.
"And you knew him?" I questioned, hastily.
"I used to know him," said Carnes, with a comical wink, "but recently I've cut his acquaintance."
For a moment we stared at each other silently, then I asked, abruptly:
"Old man, do you think it worth our while to go into this resurrection business?"
"What for?"
"To satisfy ourselves as regards Bethel's part in it."
"You needn't go into it on my account," replied Carnes, crossing his legs and clasping his two hands behind his head; "I'm satisfied."
"As how?"
"He never did it."
"Ah! how do you reason the case?"
"First, he isn't a fool; second, if he had taken the body he would have made use of it that night; it was fast decomposing, and before to-night would be past pleasant handling. Then he, being called away, if he had instructed others to disinter the body, would never have instructed them to hide it on his own premises, much less to disrobe it for no purpose whatever. Then, last and most conclusive, there's the pick and spade."
"And what of them?"
"This of them," unclasping his hands, setting his two feet squarely on the floor, and bringing his palms down upon his knees. "You know old Harding, the hardware dealer?"
I nodded. Old Harding was the elder brother of the Trafton farmer who had excited my eagerness to see Trafton by discussing its peculiarities on the railway train.
"Well," leaning toward me and dropping out his words in stiff staccato. "After the crowd had left Jim Long and myself in possession of the doctor's premises, old Harding came back. I saw that he wanted to talk with Jim, and I went out into the yard. Presently the two went into the barn, and I skulked around till I got directly behind the window where those tools were found. And here's what I heard, stripped of old Harding's profanity, and Jim's cranky comments. Last year Harding's store was visited by burglars, and those identical tools were taken out of it along with many other things. You observed that they were quite new. Harding said he could swear to the tools. Now, if others had exhumed the bodyforthe doctor, they would not have left their tools in his stable and in so conspicuous a place. If the doctor exhumed it, how did he obtain those tools?They were stolen before he came to Trafton."
"Then here is another thing," I began, as Carnes paused. "A man of Bethel's sense would not take such a step without a sufficient reason. Now, Dr. Barnard, who certainly is authority in the matter, says positively that there were no peculiar symptoms about the child's sickness; that it was averyordinary case; therefore, Dr. Bethel, who can buy all his skeletons without incurring disagreeable labor and risk, could have had no motive for taking the body."
"Then you think——"
"I think this," I interrupted, being now warm with my subject. "Dr. Bethel, who is certainlynota detective, is suspected of being one, or feared as one. And this is the way his enemies open the war upon him. I think if we can find out who robbed that little girl's grave and secreted the body so as to throw suspicion upon Bethel, we shall be in a fair way to find out what we came here to learn, viz., what, and where, and who, are the daring, long existing successful robbers that infest Trafton. This is their first failure, and why?"
"It's easy to guesswhy," said Carnes, gravely. "The old head was out of this business; for some reason it has been entrusted to underlings, and bunglers."
"But won't old Harding give these rascals warning by claiming his stolen property?" I asked, dubiously.
"Not he," replied Carnes. "Harding's too cute and too stingy for that. He reasons that the thieves, having begun to display their booty, may grow more reckless. He is one of the few who think that the body was not placed in the hay by the doctor's hirelings; he intends to keep silent for the present and look sharp for any more of his stolen merchandize."
"Then, Carnes, we have no bars to our present progress. To-morrow we get down to actual business."
Again we sat late into the night discussing and re-arranging our plans, only separating when we had mapped out a course which we, in our egotistical blindness, felt assured was the true route toward success; and seeking our slumbers as blissfully unconscious of what really was to transpire as the veriest dullard in all Trafton.
When I awoke next morning, I was surprised to find my erratic body-servant not in attendance.
Carnes, for convenience, and because of lack of modern hotel accommodations, occupied a cot in my room, which was the largest in the house, and sufficiently airy to serve for two. Usually, he was anything but a model serving man in the matter of rising and attending to duty, for, invariably, I was out of bed an hour before him, and had made my toilet to the music of his nasal organ, long before he broke his morning nap.
This morning, however, Carnes was not snoring peacefully on his cot underneath the open north window, and I arose and made a hasty toilet, feeling sure that something unusual had called him from his bed this early.
Wondering much, I descended to the office, where an animated buzz warned me that something new and startling was under discussion.
Usually at that hour this sanctum was untenanted, save for the youth who served as a combination of porter and clerk, and perhaps a stray boarder or two, but this morning a motley crowd filled the room. Not a noisy, blustering crowd, but a gathering of startled, perplexed, angry looking men, each seeming hopeful of hearing something, rather than desirous of saying much.
Jim Long, the idle, every-where-present Jim, stood near the outer door, looking as stolid and imperturbable as usual, and smoking, as a matter of course.
I made my way to him at once.
"What is it, Long," I asked, in a low tone; "something new, or—"
"Nothin'new, by any means," interrupted Jim, sublimely indifferent to the misfortune of his neighbors. "Nothin' new at all, Cap'n; the Trafton Bandits have been at it again, that's all."
"Nothin' new at all, Cap'n; the Trafton Bandits have been at it again that's all."—page 140."Nothin' new at all, Cap'n; the Trafton Bandits have been at it again that's all."—page 140.
"Trafton Bandits! you mean—"
"Thieves! Robbers! Ku Klux! They've made another big haul."
"Last night?"
"Last night, Cap'n."
"Of what sort?"
Jim chuckled wickedly.
"The right sort to git money out of. Hopper's two-forty's, that was in trainin' for the races. Meacham's matched sorrels. 'Squire Brookhouse's bay Morgans."
"What! six blooded horses at one haul!"
"Eggszactly."
Jim's coolness was aggravating; I turned away from him, and mingled with the group about the clerk's desk.
"Meacham'll suicide; he refused a fancy price for them sorrels not two weeks ago."
"Wonder what old Brookhouse will do about it?"
"There'll be some tall rewards offered."
"Much good that'll do. We don't get back stolen horses so easy in this county."
"It'll break Hopper up; he had bet his pile on the two-forty's, and bid fair to win."
"One of 'em was goin' to trot against Arch Brookhouse's mare, Polly, an' they had big bets up. Shouldn't wonder if Arch was glad to be let out so easy. Polly never could outgo that gray four-year-old."
"Think not?"
"Brookhouse has telegraphed to his lawyers already, to send on a couple of detectives."
"Bully for Brookhouse."
"Don't yell till yer out of the woods. Detectives ain't so much more'n common folks. I don't go much on 'em myself. What we want is vigilants."
"Pooh! neither detectives nor vigilants can't cure Trafton."
These and like remarks greeted my ears in quick succession, and furnished me mental occupation. I lingered for half an hour among the eager, excited gossippers, and then betook myself to the dining-room and partook of my morning meal in solitude. With my food for the body, I had also food for thought.
Here, indeed, was work for the detective. I longed for the instant presence of Carnes, that we might discuss the situation, and I felt no little annoyance at the thought of the two detectives who might come in upon us at the bidding of 'Squire Brookhouse.
Carnes was in the office when I again entered it, and giving him a sign to follow me, I went up to my room. It was situated in a wing of the building most remote from the office, and the hum of many voices did not penetrate so far.
The stillness seemed more marked by contrast with the din I had just left, as I sat waiting.
Presently Carnes came in, alert, quick of movement, and having merged the talkative Irishman in the active, cautious detective.
"This looks like business;" he began, dragging a chair forward, and seating himself close to me. "I chanced to wake up a little after sunrise, and heard some men talking outside, near my window. They were going through the lane, and I only caught the words: "Yes, sir; stolen last night; six of them." Somehow the tone, quite as much as the words, convinced me that something was wrong. I got up and hurried out, thinking it hardly worth while to disturb you until I had learned more of the fellow's meaning. Well, sir, it's a fact; six valuable pieces of horseflesh have been taken from under our very noses."
"Have you got any particulars?"
"Well, yes, as much as is known, I think. Hopper, as you remember, lives on the hill just at the edge of the town. His man sleeps in the little office adjoining the stable. It seems the fellow, having no valuables to lose, let the window swing open and slept near it. He was chloroformed, and is under the doctor's care this morning. Meacham's stable is very near the house, but no one was disturbed by the robbers; they threw his dog a huge piece of meat that kept his jaws occupied. I heard Arch Brookhouse talking with a lot of men; he says the Morgans were in a loose box near the rear door of the stable, and that two men were sleeping in the room above the front wing. He says they have telegraphed to the city for detectives."
"Yes, I'm sorry for that, but it's to be expected."
"What shall we do about it?"
"As we are working for our own satisfaction and have little at stake, I am in favor of keeping quiet until we see who they bring down. If it's some of our own fellows, orany onethat we know to be skillful, we can then turn in and help them, or retire from the field without making ourselves known, as we think best. If the fellows are strangers—"
"Then we will try the merits of the case with them," broke in Carnes. "I tell you, old man, I hate to quit the field now."
"So do I," I acknowledged. "We must manage to know when these new experts arrive, and until we have found them out, can do little but keep our eyes and ears open. It won't do to betray too much interest just yet."
Carnes wheeled about in his chair and turned his eyes toward the street.
"I wish this thing had not happened just yet," he said, moodily. "Last night our plans were laid so smoothly. I don't see how we can even follow up this grave-robbing business, until these confounded detectives have shown their hand."
"Carnes," I replied, solemnly, "do be a philosopher. If ever two conceited detectives got themselves into a charming muddle, we're those two, at present. If we don't come out of this escapade covered with confusion, we shall have cause to be thankful."
My homily had its intended effect. Carnes wheeled upon me with scorn upon his countenance.
"The mischief fly away wid yer croakin'," he cried. "An' it's lyin' ye know ye are. Is it covered wid confusion ye'd be afther havin' us, bad cess to ye? Av we quit this nest we'd be drappin' the natest job two lads ever tackled. Ye can quit av ye like, but I'm shtayin', avan if the ould boy himself comes down to look intil the bizness."
By "the ould boy," Carnes meant our Chief, and not, as might be supposed, his Satanic majesty.
I smiled at the notion of our Chief in the midst of these Trafton perplexities, and, letting Carnes' tirade remain unanswered, took from my pocket the before mentioned note book and began a new mental calculation.
"There goes the ould identical Mephistophiles I used to see in my fairy book," broke out Carnes from his station by the window, where he had stood for some moments silently contemplating whatever might present itself to view in the street below. "Look at 'im now! Av I were an artist, wouldn't I ax 'im to sit for 'Satan'."
I looked out and saw 'Squire Brookhouse passing on the opposite side of the street, and looking closer, I decided that Carnes' comparison was not inapt.
In the days of his youth 'Squire Brookhouse might have been a handsome man, when his regular features were rounded and colored by twenty-two Summers, or perhaps more; but he must have grown old while yet young, for his cadaverous cheeks were the color of most ancient parchment; his black eyes were set in hollow, dusky caverns; his mouth was sunken, the thin lips being drawn and colorless. His upper lip was smooth shaven, but the chin was decorated by a beard, long but thin, and of a peculiar lifeless black. His eyebrows were long and drooped above the cavernous eyes. His hair was straight and thin, matching the beard in color, and he wore it so long that it touched the collar of his coat, the ends fluttering dismally in the least gust of wind. He was tall, and angular to emaciation, with narrow, stooping shoulders, and the slow, gliding gait of an Indian. He was uniformly solemn, it would be a mistake to say dignified; preternaturally silent, going and coming like a shadow among his loquacious neighbors; always intent upon his own business and showing not the least interest in anything that did not in some way concern himself. Living plainly, dressing shabbily, hoarding his riches, grinding his tenants, superintending the business of his large stock-farm, he held himself aloof from society, and had never been seen within the walls of a church.
And yet this silent, unsocial man was a power in Trafton; his word of commendation was eagerly sought for; his frown was a thing to be dreaded; his displeasure to be feared. Whom he would be elected to office, and whom he would not, came somehow to be disapproved by all Trafton.
"He has certainly an uncommonensemble," I said, looking out over Carnes' shoulder, "not a handsome man, to be sure, but one toward whom you would turn in a crowd to take the second look at. I wonder where Jim Long would place him in the scale of Trafton weights and measures?"
"Not under the head of the model Traftonite," replied Carnes, still gazing after the receding figure. "He's guiltless of the small hands and feet, perfumed locks and 'more frill to the square yard of shirt front' required by Jim for the making of his model. By-the-by, what the 'Squire lacks is amply made up by the son. When Jim pictured the model Traftonite, I think he must have had Arch Brookhouse in his eye."
"I think so, too; a nature such as Jim's would be naturally antagonistic to any form of dandyism. Young Brookhouse is a fastidious dresser, and, I should say, a thoroughly good fellow."
"As good fellows go," said Carnes, sententiously. "But dropping the dandy, tell me what are we going to do with Jim Long?"
"It's a question I've been asking myself," responded I, turning away from the window, "Jim is not an easy conundrum to solve."
"About as easy as a Chinese puzzle," grumbled Carnes, discontentedly. "Nevertheless, I tell you, old man, before we get much further on our way we've got to take his measure."
"I quite agree with you, and the moment the way seems clear, we must do something more."
"What's that?"
"We must explore that south road, every foot of it, for twenty miles at least."
The first train due from the city, by which, supposing 'Squire Brookhouse's message to be promptly received, and his commission promptly executed, it would be possible for the looked-for detectives to arrive, would be due at midnight. It was a fast, through express, and arriving so late, when the busy village gossips were, or should be, peacefully sleeping, it seemed to us quite probable that they would come openly by that train.
Of course we expected them to assume disguise, or to have some plausible business in the town, quite foreign to their real errand thither; but, equally, of course we expected to be able to penetrate any disguise that might be assumed by parties known to us, or to see beneath any business subterfuge adopted by strangers.
Until midnight then we had only to wait, and employ our time profitably, if we could, which seemed hardly probable.
I remained in my room for the remainder of the morning, and Carnes went out among the gossipers, in search of any scrap that he might seize upon and manipulate into a thing of meaning.
At the dinner table I met Dr. Bethel. He was his usual calm, courteous self, seeming in no wise ruffled or discomposed by the events of the previous day.
We chatted together over our dinner, and together left the table. In the hall the doctor turned to face me, saying:
"If you have nothing better to occupy your time, come down to my house with me. I shall enjoy your company."
I could scarcely have found a way of passing the afternoon more to my taste, just then, and I accepted his invitation promptly.
Outside the doctor's dwelling, quiet and order reigned, thanks to Jim Long's officious friendliness, but within was still the confusion of yesterday; Jim, seemingly, having exhausted himself in the hanging of the doctor's front door.
Bethel looked about the disordered rooms, and laughed the laugh of the philosopher.
"After all, a man can not be thoroughly angry at the doings of a mob," he said, stooping to gather up some scattered papers. "It's like scattering shot; the charge loses its force; there is no center to turn upon. I was in a rage yesterday, but it was rather with the author of the mischief credited to me, than these fanatical would-be avengers, and then—after due reflection—it was quite natural that these village simpletons should suspect me, was it not?"
"Candidly, yes," I replied; "and that only proves the cunning of the enemy who planned this business for your injury."
Bethel, who was stooping to restore a chair to its proper position, lifted his head to favor me with one sharp glance. Then he brought the chair up with a jerk; and, taking another with the unoccupied hand, said:
"This is hardly a picture of comfort. Fortunately, there is a condensed lawn and excellent shade outside. Let's smoke a cigar under the trees, and discuss this matter comfortably."
In another moment we were sitting cosily,vis-â-vis, on the tiny grass plot, styled by the doctor a "condensed lawn," with a huge clump of lilacs at our backs, and the quivering leaves of a young maple above our heads.
The doctor produced some excellent cigars, which we lighted, and smoked for a time in silence. Then he said:
"I scarcely flatter myself that I have seen the end of this business. I quite expected the raid of yesterday to be followed by a formal accusation and a warrant to-day, in which case—"
"In which case," I interrupted, "I will be responsible for your future good behavior, and go your bail."
"Thank you," he said, quite seriously. "I appreciate your championship, but confess it surprises me. Why have you voted me guiltless, in opposition to the expressed opinions of two-thirds of Trafton?"
"Perhaps," I replied, "it is because I am not a Traftonite, and am therefore without prejudice. To be perfectly frank, Ididsuppose you to be implicated in the business when I came here yesterday; when I witnessed your surprise, and heard your denial, I wavered; when I saw the buried clothing, I doubted; when the body was discovered, I was convinced that a less clever head and more bungling hand than yours, had planned and executed the resurrection; it was a blunder which I could not credit you with making. If I had a doubt, Barnard's testimony would have laid it."
"Thank you," said Bethel, with real warmth. "But——I might have had confederates."
"No. Doctor Barnard's statement as to the manner of the child's death deprives you of a motive for the deed; then the too-easily found tools, and the stripped-off clothing could hardly be work of your planning or ordering. Depend upon it, when Trafton has done a little calm thinking, it will see this matter as I see it."
"Possibly," with a shade of skepticism in his voice. "At least, when I have unearthed these plotters against me, they will see the matter as it is, and that day I intend to bring to pass."
The fire was nearly extinct on the tip of his cigar, he replaced it in his mouth and seemingly only intent upon rekindling the spark; this done, he smoked in silence a moment and then said:
"As to the author of the mischief, or his motive, I am utterly at a loss. I have given up trying to think out the mystery. I shall call in the help of the best detective I can find, and see what he makes of the matter."
Gracious heavens! here was another lion coming down upon myself and my luckless partner! Trafton was about to be inundated with detectives. My brain worked hard and fast. Something must be done, and that speedily, or Carnes and I must retreat mutely, ingloriously.
While I smoked in a seemingly careless reverie, I was weighing theprosandconsof a somewhat uncertain venture. Should I let this third detective come and risk a collision, or should I make a clean breast of it, avow my identity, explain the motive of my sojourn in Trafton, and ask Bethel to trust his case to Carnes and myself? Almost resolved upon this latter course, I began to feel my way.
"A good detective ought to sift the matter, I should think," I said. "I suppose you have your man in view?"
"Candidly, no," he replied, with a dubious shake of the head. "I'm afraid I am not well posted as regards the police, never expecting to have much use for the gentry. I must go to the city and hunt up the right man."
I drew a breath of relief.
"That will consume some valuable time," I said, musingly.
"Yes, a day to go; another, perhaps, before I find my man. I shall go in person, because I fancy that I shall be able to give something like a correct guess as to the man's ability, if I can have a square look at his face."
I blew a cloud of smoke before my own face to conceal a smile.
"You are a physiognomist, then?"
"Not a radical one; but I believe there is much to be learned by the careful study of the human countenance."
"Give me a test of your ability," I said, jestingly, and drawing my chair nearer to him. "Have I the material in me for a passable detective?"
"My dear sir," he replied, gravely, "if I had not given you credit for some shrewdness, I should hardly have made you, even in a slight degree, my confidante; if you were a detective I think you might be expected to succeed."
"Thanks, doctor; being what I am I can, perhaps, give you the key to this mystery."
"You?"
"Yes, I," tossing away my cigar and now fully resolved to confide in the doctor. "I think I have stumbled upon the clue you require. I will tell you how."
There was a sharp click at the gate; I closed my lips hurriedly, and we both turned to look.
'Squire Brookhouse, if possible a shade more solemn of countenance than usual, was entering the doctor's door-yard.
My host arose instantly to receive, but did not advance to meet, his latest guest.
'Squire Brookhouse accepted the chair proffered him, having first given me a nod of recognition, and, while Bethel entered the house for another chair, sat stiffly, letting his small, restless black eyes rove about, taking in his surroundings with quick, furtive glances, and I fancied that he felt a trifle annoyed at my presence.
"You seem quite serene here, in spite of yesterday's fracas," he said to me, in what he no doubt intended for the ordinary affable conversational tone.
He possessed a naturally harsh, rasping voice, not loud, but, none the less, not pleasant to the ear, and this, coupled with his staccato manner of jerking out the beginnings of his sentences, and biting off the ends of them, would have given, even to gentle words, the sound of severity.
While I replied, I was inwardly wondering what had called out this unusual visit, for I saw at once, by the look on Bethel's face, that it was unusual, and, just then, a trifle unwelcome.
We were not left long in the dark. Scarcely had the doctor rejoined us and been seated before the 'squire gave us an insight into the nature of his business.
"I am sorry our people gave you so much trouble yesterday, doctor," he began, in his stiff staccato. "Their conduct was as discreditable to the town as it was uncomplimentary to you."
"One should always take into consideration the character of the elements that assails him," replied Bethel, coolly. "I was comforted to know that my assailants of yesterday were notably of thecanailleof the town; the majority, of the rough, vulgar excitables, who, while not being, or meaning to be, absolutely vicious, are, because of their inherent ignorance, easily played upon and easily led, especially toward mischief. The leaders most certainly were not of thelowerclasses, but of thelowest. On the whole, I have experienced no serious discomfort, 'Squire Brookhouse, nor do I anticipate any lasting injury to my practice by this attempt to shake the public faith in me."
This reply surprised me somewhat, and I saw that the 'squire was, for the moment, nonplussed. He sat quite silent, biting his thin under lip, and with his restless eyes seemed trying to pierce to the doctor's innermost thought.
The silence became to me almost oppressive before he said, shifting his position so as to bring me more prominently within his range of vision:
"I hope you are right; I suppose you are. Arch displeased me very much by not coming to your aid; he might, perhaps, have had some influence upon a portion of the mob. I regret to learn that one or two of my men were among them. I believe Arch tried to argue against the movement before they came down upon you; he came home thoroughly disgusted and angry. For myself, I was too much indisposed to venture out yesterday."
He drew himself a trifle more erect; this long speech seeming to be something well off his mind.
"I was well supported, I assure you," replied Bethel, courteously. "But I appreciate your interest in my welfare. Your influence in Trafton is considerable, I know."
"Hardly that; hardly that, sir. However, such as it is, it is yours, if you need it. My call was merely to ask if you anticipated any further trouble, or if I could serve you in any way, in case you desired to make an investigation."
Bethel hesitated a moment, seemingly at a loss for a reply.
In that moment, while the 'squire's sharp eyes were fixed upon him, I lifted my hand, removed my cigar from my mouth with a careless gesture, and, catching the doctor's eye, laid a finger on my lip. In another instant I was puffing away at my weed, and the keen, quick eyes of 'Squire Brookhouse were boring me clean through.
"Thank you," said Bethel, after this pause, and without again glancing at me. "You are very good."
"We seem to be especially honored by rogues of various sorts," went on the 'squire. "Of course you have heard of last night's work, and of my loss."
The doctor bowed his head.
"This thing is becoming intolerable," went on the usually silent man, "and I intend to make a stanch fight. If it's in the power of the detectives, I mean to have my horses back."
"You will bestow a blessing upon the community if you succeed in capturing the thieves," said Bethel.
Then the 'squire turned toward me, saying:
"We are a victimized community, sir. I suppose you have found that out?"