CHAPTER XVI.
The Closing Net.
A light tapping, faint but insistent came to Betty's ears in the midst of her consternation and her hands dropped to her sides as she turned quickly from the hearth. The sound was brittle and crisp rather than metallic and seemed to come from the window which showed a square black void against the light of the room.
As she approached, however, a face appeared out of the surrounding gloom and flattened itself against the pane. It was that of a man, youthful and clean shaven, with a cap pulled low over his eyes, and as he perceived that he had succeeded in attracting her attention, he beckoned eagerly.
Betty hesitated but as he repeated the gesture with anxious impatience, she walked over to the window and opened it.
"Good evening, Miss. I had Demon out for a bit of a run just now and he got away from me. I whistled and whistled but he didn't come back and finally I found him out by the gate jumping all around a strange man. It was funny, for he's pretty fierce usually; you're the only one he's taken to that I can remember. Then I saw that the young fellow had a glove in his hand, that he was making Demon jump for; this glove, Miss. Is it yours?"
"Why, yes!" Betty stammered, flushing warmly. It was the glove she had dropped during her last stormy interview with Herbert Ross. Her companion she had recognized at once as Demon's keeper whom she encountered on the afternoon when the dog rescued her from Wolvert's unwelcome attentions. "Did he give it to you for me?"
"And something else besides. We got talking and he asked would I give you the glove and this letter. He said it was very private and I was to tell nobody, but put it in your own hands the first chance I got, so I come straight here and nosed around until I saw you over by the fire-place."
"Thank you!" Betty seized the envelope and thrust it in her breast. "I will see that you are well paid—"
"Oh, that's all right, Miss. The young gentleman fixed me up, but I'd have done it anyway. Demon's a good judge of character, he is! I'll beat it now, Miss. It's as much as my place is worth to be seen around here."
He vanished into the darkness and Betty closed the window and sank into the chair before the desk. The letter lay like a living hand upon her heart and she longed for solitude and security to read it in peace, but Mrs. Atterbury's voice sounded from the hall and she knew that at any moment the others would descend for dinner. Why had Ross taken this desperate chance to communicate with her? Was it to implore forgiveness for his accusation, or in final warning of disaster?
She fumbled at her breast in a desperate impulse to brave discovery if necessary but to glean at all costs the purport of his message, when the door opened and Welch stood on the threshold, announcing dinner.
How she managed to struggle through the hour that followed she could scarcely remember. The expression of half-startled amazement with which the others greeted her changed appearance and the awkward attempt to bridge over their surprise lingered but vaguely in her thoughts. She could feel their gaze turning to her again and again in the pauses of the disjointed conversation, but she kept her face assiduously averted, fearing lest they read in her eyes the knowledge she had gained from the charred fragment of paper.
To her relief Mrs. Atterbury dismissed her as soon as the meal was concluded, drawing her aside at the foot of the stairs to whisper commendingly:
"My dear, the improvement is marvellous, as I told you it would be. Use the wax regularly in future and you will have no cause to pity yourself, I can assure you. No one would believe there was a blemish beneath the rouge which you have so cleverly applied, but be careful not to overdo it. Your coloring is just a little too brilliant tonight."
Betty glanced at herself hurriedly in the mirror when she reached the privacy of her room. Her eyes glittered and her cheeks burned feverishly beneath the artificial glow. With trembling fingers she drew the envelope from its hiding place and broke the seal.
"Come to me"—it began without form of address, "—if you value your safety. I will wait near the gate until midnight. Don't delay, for the danger of which I told you is culminating and any hour may precipitate the crisis when it will be beyond my power to help or warn you."
The brief note was unsigned and the flowing characteristic hand was unfamiliar to her, but no question of evading the command entered her thoughts. She must get to him, though it meant running the gauntlet of sharp eyes and ears below, and actual peril should she be discovered. She threw a dark cloak over her dinner gown, determined if she were intercepted to plead a headache and the desire for a turn in the fresh air before retiring. Once clear of the house she feared nothing for she knew that Demon was held in wholesome awe by even the redoubtable Welch. The only danger would be that the dog himself might spring upon her in the dark, but that risk she must face.
Opening her door softly, Betty listened to the low murmur of voices from below. It seemed to come from the music room, and she waited until she had distinguished each voice and assured herself that all three of Mrs. Atterbury's guests were with her before venturing down the hall.
The main staircase was out of the question and she chose the one at the rear. It descended to the servants' quarters, but she knew that the cook had long since retired and the rattle of silverware told her that Welch was busied in the dining-room. There remained only Caroline to be considered and she was seldom in evidence at this hour.
Betty moved to the head of the stairs and listened again intently. No sound penetrated from the lower regions of the house and the hall light was dim. Cautiously, with her heart pounding in her throat, she descended to a narrow landing midway of the staircase, when the kitchen door was suddenly opened emitting a broad stream of light and Caroline appeared, bearing a steaming pitcher.
Trapped, Betty glanced wildly about her and saw a small door at the left of the landing. Flinging it open she sprang into the black void beyond, her forehead striking smartly against the edge of a shelf. As she grasped it to steady herself her fingers came in contact with glass jars placed solidly in rows; evidently she had stumbled into a store-closet.
Behind her she heard slow heavy steps mounting the stairs and she scarcely breathed as they paused on the landing within arm's length of her refuge. Had the woman seen her? But even as the fear gripped her, Betty heard the complaining creak of the stairs once more and the ponderous tread ascended, diminishing to silence along the upper hall.
Waiting no longer, she slipped from the closet and fairly flew down to the kitchen. Welch had not yet made his rounds and the heavy back door, unlatched, swung wide at her touch. With a sob of thankfulness she found herself out in the pine-scented darkness, with only the whisper of the wind in the evergreens and the distant shriek of whistles upon the river to break the silence. She was free!
There was a low light in the upper story of the garage and with it to guide her she sped around the corner of the house on the opposite side from that on which the music room was located, crouching low beneath the window sills and darting from one sheltering clump of trees to another. She found the path but the darkness confused her and more than once she strayed from it to strike against a wide spreading branch or sink to her knees in a tangle of underbrush.
The distance seemed interminable to the gate, and Betty was commencing to fear that she had lost her way when a low rumbling growl reached her ears, and a cautious masculine voice, silencing it, brought a soft little cry from her own lips.
"I knew it must be you!"
Although they had parted in bitterness and anger she seemed to have forgotten it, for her hand reached out and found his in the black void of the night.
For a long minute they stood silently together, then a pleading paw raked at her knee, and Demon's eyes glistened up to her in reproachful greeting. With a murmured laugh that was half a sob Betty released her hand and stooping, patted the great shaggy head.
"You had my note?" Ross's tone was breathless. "I thought that fellow was to be trusted! The dog came to me a half-hour ago but he remembered my voice and I kept him here for fear he would mistake you in the dark and attack you. You must listen to me. Whatever you think of me, whether you are still resentful or not makes no difference now. You are in frightful danger and you must escape from these people while you can. Come! We have no time to lose. There is a car waiting around the corner and your absence from the house may be discovered at any moment."
Betty slowly drew back.
"Come where?" she asked. "My place is here."
"Here? In this den of criminals? Here to wait until the house is surrounded and you are captured with the rest to face the hideous ignominy of a trial? Do you know what you are guilty of in the eyes of the law? Not only compounding a felony but being accessory after the fact to a murder! Not the most adroit counsel could save you from imprisonment, if not worse!"
"Murder!" Betty's voice was a mere whisper.
"Do you know that a man was done to death beneath that roof even while it sheltered you? That the police and every detective in the country have been moving heaven and earth to find a clue to his murderers and a trail has been picked up which leads unmistakably here? Even if you know nothing about it you must have seen it in the papers; they've been full of the case for nearly three weeks, ever since the body was found—"
"I know." She spoke in unguarded haste. "You mean Breckinridge. I saw his picture in a paper which I bought downtown and I recognized him—"
"Recognized him!" repeated Ross, aghast. "Do you mean that you were dragged into even this? You knew him?"
"I saw him once." Betty hesitated and then went on impetuously as if glad to rid herself of the hideous burden she had borne so long. "I came downstairs alone at midnight, and I found him lying dead upon the floor. I don't know how he got in or who killed him. There wasn't the slightest trace left in the morning and it all seemed like an awful dream."
Ross groaned.
"And you told no one? You kept it to yourself and stayed on? Good God, what is it that has held you here? What obsession controls you, stronger than the fear of death!! How could you, a tender, highly-strung girl, force yourself to intimate association with desperate criminals whom you knew had not hesitated to take human life? What manner of woman are you?"
"I don't know," Betty answered truthfully enough. "If anyone had told me that I could endure what I have gone through I should have fancied them quite mad, but I have not given up my purpose and I cannot leave while a single chance remains for its fulfillment. You must think what you please of me. I shall not attempt to explain or defend myself to you, and if the worst comes and I am taken with the others, I will face the consequences. No one can help me, and no one can stop me."
"I mean to take you away now, tonight, if I have to do it by force!" Ross spoke through set teeth. "I know who you are and everything about you except the mission which brought you here, and that I can guess. I mean to save you from yourself and the result of your mad recklessness!"
"You know?" Betty echoed faintly.
"Oh, my dear, give it up and come away with me!" He had drawn close to her and the thrilling tenderness in his tone made the blood leap in her veins. "I will take you where you will be safe, where not a breath of this hideous monster of crime can touch you. You are the bravest little woman in the world but you are acting from a mistaken sense of loyalty, I know, I feel it. Dear, I love you! Whatever you think of me, whatever the future may hold, I love you! When I have seemed to be hounding you down I was trying always to protect you. Before I knew the truth, when everything seemed blackest against you and I believed the worst I loved you. Criminal or not, I wanted to hold you against all the world! Won't you trust me, dear? Won't you let me save you while there is yet time?"
"Oh, please!" Betty cried a trifle breathlessly. "You cannot realize what you are saying. You know nothing of me, nothing, and as to my leaving here, I—I am not free to go."
"And do you think that I will allow you to remain here another hour?" he cried. "Do you think that I will let you face this unspeakable danger, you whom I love?—For I do love you, Betty! Whether you believe me or not, whether you listen or turn from me, I love you! That is why I trusted you from the first, believed in you when appearances were blackest, had faith, blindly, instinctively against reason and logic and circumstantial evidence of the most conclusive kind! The net is closing around this horrible high priestess of crime and her accomplices; it will be only a matter of hours now before the end. Oh, my dear, drive this mad, quixotic idea from your thoughts and come with me!"
Betty slowly retreated a step or two from him.
"I do believe in you—in your friendship, I mean. I know that you want to help me, that you have my interests, my very safety at heart and I am grateful. But there is something stronger than the fear of death. Don't make it any harder for me than it is. I realize my position; I know the danger in which I stand alone, the end that waits for me if they discover my purpose, or the consequences if the police come. And still I must remain! No power on earth can move me!"
"I can't believe you do fully realize your danger!" Ross pleaded. "I did not mean to tell you, I did not want to frighten you until I had taken you to a place of safety, but dear, you must know the truth. It is not the Atterbury creature or the others of her gang for whom the police are searching, but you—you! The newspapers today fairly blazed with it and every detective in the city is out after 'the girl with the scar'! Do you know what you have been doing, what you have been guilty of on these commissions as the tool of this woman?"
"Yes," answered Betty quietly. "I knew, but if I had refused, someone else would have gone in my place and I would have been dismissed, my own plan thwarted. I suppose I was hard and bitter, but it seemed to me that the ends justified any means. Those people came voluntarily to meet me; they had an alternative but they made their choice. If I had gone to the police myself I would not only have defeated my own purpose, but theirs also. Let the detectives search for the girl with the scar! I am safe until they trace me here and by that time I may have succeeded in my plan. No one can know where I am to be found but you, and I am not afraid that you will betray me!"
"But I have!" he groaned. "My chief knows. As a private detective myself I was employed in the first place to find you, you can guess by whom. My chief learned that I was on the trail of a girl with a scar and he thinks I've double-crossed him and gone crooked in trying to protect you. He's honest and he's got bull-dog courage; you can't bluff him or buy him."
"Not even with information?" Betty asked on a swift inspiration. "Will he hold off for only a day or two, just to give me another chance, if you can tell him something that will be of great value to him?"
"What do you mean, dear? What have you learned?" The question sprang eagerly from his lips. "I could not bribe McCormick, but I might stall him until I can take you out of his reach—"
"McCormick!" A sentence she had read a week before stood out across the girl's consciousness in letters of fire. "Listen! There's a man who uses the title of Professor—Professor Stolz, they called him here—who has just been arrested in Chicago."
Ross uttered a startled exclamation, but she went on:
"I believe he has escaped or broken parole before, because he is being held on an old verdict concerning someone named Hamilton, but your Mr. McCormick is trying to find new evidence against him. He's an accomplice of Mrs. Atterbury and the evidence is in this house. Have you ever heard of a woman called 'The Comet'?"
"Yes! Maisie Larne! She was murdered in Denver, in a fit of jealousy, by a man nicknamed 'Red' Rathbone—"
"She was murdered because she sold out Mrs. Atterbury's accomplice, this person called 'Red,' to detectives in Laramie, Wyoming, and they communicated with the federal authorities in Washington, and spoiled that particular plot. 'Red' escaped to Denver, she followed him and she was killed by a man known as 'Bud'—"
"Bud Malone! And we never suspected it! The Chief will get him—"
"He's on his way to Japan," interrupted Betty.
"Then he is as good as in our hands! We will have all the ports watched and he can't escape," Ross cried. Then impetuously he held out his hands to her. "I can't endure it that all this hideous knowledge should have come to you! It is as if you were being steeped in defilement! You know that you can trust me! Tell me what this impossible task is which you have set your hand to. Let me undertake it for you, let me bear the burden!"
"Please, please don't ask me! You cannot help me, no one can. I must see it through alone!"
"Then you—you mean that I am to leave you here?" His arms dropped to his sides. "Nothing can move you? I may not even stay to protect you, lest I draw suspicion upon you! I can't! No man could leave the woman he loved in such peril! What if I were to take you away now by sheer force?"
"But you will not." Betty spoke softly but with absolute finality. "I trusted you, I came to you here because you asked it, you will not take advantage of my faith to destroy it. And you must not mention—love. I am grateful to you for risking your chief's displeasure, your very career for my sake, but I must stand alone. There is stern work ahead of me and I shall succeed; I feel it in my very heart and nothing can make me turn from that which lies before me."
Herbert Ross drew a deep breath and his voice was husky with pent-up emotion as he said solemnly:
"Then may God keep you, dear! It may be that you are right; such bravery as yours should have its reward, no matter what your object may be. Remember that day and night I shall be on guard as near as I can get to you without bringing harm upon your head. Take this and wear it; do not leave it for an instant out of reach, and if danger threatens you blow as loudly as you can upon it. A man will be stationed where he can hear it and pass the signal along, and you will find me at your side. I must not keep you now, but God! how I dread to let you go back into their clutches!"
Betty fingered the slender chain he had placed about her neck. A whistle hung upon it and she thrust it quickly beneath her cloak.
"I shall not forget, nor be afraid, knowing that you are here. I am glad, too, that you do not think me a criminal, even if I have broken the law. When I thought that you were trailing me, spying upon me, I felt that I hated you, but now—"
"'Now'?" he repeated gently, as she hesitated.
"I am deeply grateful, and we—we shall be friends." Betty held out her hand once more, but shyly this time. "Thank you, oh, thank you for all that you have done for me, for all that you would do, and—goodnight."
He took her small hand in both his own and held it tightly for a moment without words. Then she slowly withdrew it and turning moved off into the darkness with the great dog trotting noiselessly at her heels.
For the first time since she had entered that house her spirit was light within her and a great peace and contentment filled her heart. Despite the danger in which she stood, all fear had fallen from her, for was not he there, on guard? Surely nothing would harm her now, no power of darkness or evil would touch her while he waited there, while that little whistle hung about her neck to summon him to her aid. He had believed in her when all the world would have doubted, because he cared for her. And she?
Betty stopped in the wintry path and her clasped hands flew to her breast. What could this strange feeling of happiness mean, which had come to her in the face of her danger, and why had that danger itself become minimized at the mere thought of his watchful presence. Why did she trust him so wholly? Could it be that her faith, her trust in turn, was rooted in something deeper than friendship?
Even as she asked herself the question, the girl's own heart, awakened and singing, gave her answer. It was love!