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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 56961 ***
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+ 1. Page scan source: Google Books
+ https://books.google.com.sb/books?id=7QYdAAAAMAAJ
+ (the New York Public Library)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+The Red House on Rowan Street
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "'_Mr. Underwood has enemies,'--he said calmly_."
+FRONTISPIECE. _See p_. 179]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE RED HOUSE
+ON ROWAN STREET
+
+
+By
+ROMAN DOUBLEDAY
+Author of "The Hemlock Avenue Mystery," etc.
+
+
+
+With Illustrations by
+William Kirkpatrick
+
+
+
+
+BOSTON
+LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY
+1910
+
+
+
+
+
+
+_Copyright, 1909, 1910_,
+BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY.
+
+-----------
+
+_All rights reserved_
+
+
+
+Published March, 1910
+
+Second Printing
+
+
+
+Printers
+S. J. Parkhill & Co., Boston, U.S.A.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+CHAPTER
+ I. Burton Becomes an Ambassador.
+ II. At the Red House.
+ III. The Highwayman's Mask Is Found.
+ IV. The Curious Experiences of the Underwood Family.
+ V. The Investigating Committee.
+ VI. A Midnight Watch.
+ VII. The Work of the Incendiary.
+ VIII. The Baby That Was Tied in.
+ IX. A Pointed Warning.
+ X. Mr. Hadley Proves a True Prophet.
+ XI. Henry Underwood Is Arrested.
+ XII. An Unstable Sweetheart.
+ XIII. Henry Is Hard to Handle.
+ XIV. Burton's Turn.
+ XV. An Odd Knot.
+ XVI. The Trail to Yesteryear.
+ XVII. A Temporary Aberration.
+ XVIII. Burton Thinks He Is Mending Matters.
+ XIX. Burton Goes To The Reservation.
+ XX. Ground Bait.
+ XXI. Rachel Appears on the Scene.
+ XXII. Henry Takes to His Heels.
+ XXIII. The Trap Is Sprung.
+ XXIV. Burton's Last Appearance as an Ambassador.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Illustrations
+
+"'Mr. Underwood has enemies,' he said calmly." _Frontispiece_
+ _See p_. 176.
+
+"'Well, perhaps this can be explained away, too!'" _Page_ 71
+
+"He found Ben Bussey in a wheeled
+ chair near a window." _Page_ 200
+
+"He stopped for a moment at the gate to enjoy the
+ picture she made." _Page_ 250
+
+
+
+
+
+
+The
+Red House on Rowan Street
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+BURTON BECOMES AN AMBASSADOR
+
+
+When Hugh Burton stepped from the train at High Ridge, he wondered (in
+his ignorance of the events that were about to engage him) whether he
+would be able to catch a return train that evening. He had no desire
+to linger in this half-grown town on the western edge of civilization
+one minute longer than his fool errand demanded. He called it a "fool
+errand" every time he thought of his mission. That he, who had
+secretly prided himself on the "disengaged" attitude which he had
+always maintained toward life, should have consented to come halfway
+across the continent to hunt up a Miss Leslie Underwood whom he had
+never met, and ask her if she would not be so kind as to reconsider
+her refusal to marry Philip Overman, because Philip was really taking
+it very hard, don't you know, and particularly because Philip's mother
+would be quite distracted if the boy should carry out his threat to
+enlist and go to the Philippines,--oh, Lord! he must have had some
+unsuspected idiot among his ancestors. Did Rachel Overman know how
+heavily she was drawing on his friendship?
+
+An Indian woman sitting on the stone steps of the railway station made
+him realize how near the edge of civilization, in very truth, he had
+come. There was, he remembered, a Reservation for Indians on the
+northern border of the State. It could not be very far from High
+Ridge.
+
+With her bright shawl about her shoulders and her beadwork and baskets
+spread about her, the woman made a picturesque spot in the sunshine.
+At another time Burton would have stopped to examine her wares, for
+among his other dilettante pursuits was an interest in Indian
+basketry; but in his present impatient mood he would have pushed past
+with a mere glance but for one of those queer little incidents that we
+call accidental. A man who was coming down the steps that Burton was
+about to ascend passed near the black-eyed squaw, and she looked up
+with smiling recognition and laid her hand arrestingly upon his coat.
+But he was not in a responsive mood. He gave her a black look and
+struck her hand away with such impatience and violence that a pile of
+her upset baskets rolled down the steps and over the platform at
+Burton's feet. At once he stepped in front of the man, who was
+hurrying heedlessly on.
+
+"Pick them up. You knocked them over," he said quietly.
+
+The man gathered up one or two with instinctive obedience to a
+positive order, before he realized what he was doing. Then he
+straightened up and glared wrathfully at his self-appointed overseer.
+
+"What the devil have you got to say about it?"
+he asked.
+
+"What I did say."
+
+"You mind your own infernal business," the man cried, and flinging the
+baskets in his hand at Burton's feet he rushed on.
+
+Burton beckoned a porter, who gathered up and restored the woman's
+scattered merchandise. For himself, he walked on toward the booth
+marked "Bureau of Information," and wondered what had possessed him to
+make him act so out of character. Why hadn't he called the porter in
+the first instance, if he felt it his affair? Something in the man's
+brutality had aroused a corresponding passion in himself. It was a
+case of hate at first sight, and he rejoiced that at any rate he had
+declared himself, and had put the uncivilized pale face into a
+humiliating rage!
+
+The particular information of which he stood in immediate need was
+Leslie Underwood's address. He opened the city directory and turned to
+the U's. There were a dozen Underwoods,--a baker, a banker, a coal
+heaver, a doctor, a merchant,--where did Miss Leslie belong?
+
+"Have you a Blue Book?" he asked the lazy-looking attendant.
+
+"Naw."
+
+"Anything with ladies' addresses?--a society list, you know."
+
+"Naw."
+
+"I want to get the address of Miss Leslie Underwood," Burton went on,
+with grim patience. "And I don't want to waste time. Can you suggest
+how I can find it?"
+
+The attendant had tipped down his uptilted chair so abruptly that it
+cracked. He was looking at Burton with lively curiosity and amusement.
+
+"You a friend of Dr. Underwood's?"
+
+"Miss Underwood belongs to the doctor's family then, does she?"
+
+"Sure. You coming to visit, or are you going to write him up?"
+
+"I didn't know this was a bureau to extract information," Burton
+remarked, as he made a note of the doctor's home address from the
+directory. "What is there to write up about Dr. Underwood?"
+
+"Aw, you think I'm green."
+
+"No, merely ill-mannered," said Burton politely, as he turned away.
+
+Outside, a row of cabmen, toeing an imaginary
+line, waved their whips frantically over it to attract his attention.
+He selected the nearest.
+
+"Do you know where Dr. Underwood lives?"
+
+The man held Burton's suitcase suspended in mid-air while he honored
+its owner with the same look of amused curiosity.
+
+"Sure! The Red House, they call it, on Rowan street. Take you there?"
+
+"No. Take me to the best hotel in town," Burton said coolly, stepping
+into the cab.
+
+Why the mischief did everybody grin at the mention of Dr. Underwood's
+name? Burton was conscious of being in an irritable state of mind, but
+still it could not be altogether his sensitiveness that made him hear
+innuendoes everywhere. What sort of people were the Underwoods,
+anyhow? Philip had met Miss Underwood in Washington and fallen crazily
+in love,--after a fashion he had. (Hadn't he been crazy about Ellice
+Avery a year before?) But this time he had emphasized the depths of
+his despair by falling ill of a low fever when his suit failed to
+prosper. Beyond the fact that the girl was "an angel," "a dream,"
+and other things of the same insubstantial order, Burton had little
+knowledge to go upon. The family might be the laughing stock of High
+Ridge, for all he knew. When a boy of twenty-two fell crazily in love,
+he didn't think about such matters; but Rachel, who, in a panic over
+her boy, had hurried him off to intercede with the cold-hearted damsel,
+would, as he well knew, hold him personally responsible for the
+consequences of his unwelcome mission, if they should prove to be
+unpleasant. Well, he would have to put in his time thinking up
+something to demand of Rachel that would be hard enough to even up
+scores a little.
+
+It was with deliberate intention that he said to the hotel clerk,
+after he had registered: "How far is it to Dr. Underwood's house?"
+
+The clerk looked up with the sudden awakening of curiosity that Burton
+had expected, then glanced at the registered name.
+
+"You want his office?"
+
+"No. His home."
+
+"It's out on Rowan street, not very far from
+here. Know the doctor?"
+
+"No. I'm a stranger here. Is he a regular physician?"
+
+"Oh, yes."
+
+"In practice?"
+
+"When he gets any."
+
+"Is there anything peculiar about him?"
+
+The clerk permitted himself a languid smile. "There is nothing about
+him that isn't peculiar. Have you seen the morning paper?"
+
+"Not any of your local papers."
+
+"I'll find one for you. Did you want lunch?"
+
+"Yes." Burton gave his order and went to the room assigned to him,
+where he made himself as presentable as possible for his proposed call
+on Miss Underwood.
+
+When he returned to the dining-room he found a newspaper by his plate,
+folded so as to bring out the headline:
+
+
+"DR. UNDERWOOD DENIES."
+
+
+Under this appeared the following card:
+
+
+"To Whom it may Concern: Having been informed that there is a report
+abroad to the effect that, as a masked highwayman, I robbed Mr. Orton
+Selby on Crescent Terrace last Friday evening, I beg to state to my
+friends and the public that the report is without foundation in fact.
+I never robbed Mr. Selby or any one else, either as a masked
+highwayman or as an attending physician, and I defy anybody and
+everybody to prove anything to the contrary.
+
+"Roger Underwood, M. D."
+
+
+Burton read the card several times while the waiter was placing his
+order before him. The hour was late and the dining-room was
+practically deserted, but Burton saw the clerk through the doorway,
+and beckoned to him. He sauntered in with an amused smile and leaned
+against the window while Burton questioned him.
+
+"This is the most extraordinary announcement I ever saw in my life.
+Are people in High Ridge in the habit of publishing cards of this
+sort?"
+
+"Dr. Underwood is rather original in his methods."
+
+"I should judge so. What does he mean by this? Surely there is nothing
+to connect him with a highway robbery?"
+
+"Well,--there has been some gossip."
+
+"You really mean that? Why, what sort of a man is Dr. Underwood? I
+wish you would tell me about him. I am entirely ignorant, but I have
+some business in hand involving some friends of mine and of his, and
+I'd like to know what I am up against."
+
+"Well, there's a good deal of talk about the Doctor and Henry
+Underwood, both. People are ready to believe anything."
+
+"How old a man is the doctor?"
+
+"Between fifty and sixty."
+
+"And his family consists of--?"
+
+"His wife, who is very pious, his son Henry, who is rather less liked
+than the doctor, if any thing, and a daughter."
+
+"Anything queer about her?"
+
+"Oh, no! She's rather pretty."
+
+Burton recognized the point of view, but he did not feel that it
+solved his own problem. Miss Underwood would have to be very pretty
+indeed, if her personal charms were to cover the multitude
+of her family's sins.
+
+"Are there any specific charges against them?" he asked.
+
+"Not exactly. It's more a feeling in the air. There's a good deal of
+talk about his keeping a cripple shut up upstairs in his house. He's
+the son of the housekeeper,--Ben Bussey is his name. Kept him there
+for years. Mrs. Bussey says he ain't treated right."
+
+"That might be investigated, I should think. Anything else?"
+
+"A few months ago an old man died while the
+doctor was attending him. There was some talk about poison in his
+medicine."
+
+"Was anything done about investigating it?"
+
+"No, it just dropped. Nobody exactly likes to tackle the doctor.
+They're afraid. That old man had been complaining about his treatment,
+and then he died, and there are people who say that something is sure
+to happen to anybody that says anything against the doctor. This Orton
+Selby, now, had been making a lot of talk about old man Means' death,
+saying it was malpractice, if nothing worse, and that something ought
+to be done about it; and then last Friday he was held up. Somehow it
+always seems to happen the same way. That's what makes people talk."
+
+"What specific reason is there for connecting the doctor with the
+robbery?"
+
+"Well, it is known that the doctor was not far from Crescent Terrace
+at the time, for some one saw him driving very fast from that locality
+a few minutes later. It was in the dusk of evening. The man that held
+Selby up was masked by having a handkerchief tied over his face, with
+slits cut in it to see through, but Selby says he was the size and
+height of the doctor, and walked like him. But the closest point is
+that after he left Selby, with his hands tied above his head to the
+railing that runs along the Terrace, Selby saw him pick up a gray
+cloak from the ground and throw it over his arm as he walked off."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"The doctor commonly wears a gray cloak, something like a military
+cape. Nobody ever saw any one else wear another just like it.
+Everybody knows him at sight by his gray cloak."
+
+"But he wasn't wearing it."
+
+"That's the point. It looks as though he had thrown it down on the
+ground so as to conceal it. Selby swears it was a gray cape or cloak,
+not a coat, because he saw a corner fall down over the man's arm as he
+hurried away."
+
+"What sort of a man is Selby?"
+
+"Why,--his word is considered good. He's a builder and contractor.
+Worked himself up from a common workman, and is very successful. He's
+built some of our best houses. Ben Bussey, the young man I told you
+about who lives at the doctor's, does woodcarving for him."
+
+"I thought you said he was a cripple."
+
+"Oh, his hands are all right."
+
+"Do the people consider that Selby is justified in his charges?"
+
+"Well, they don't know just what to think. I guess most of them would
+rather like to have Selby prove something against the doctor, for the
+sake of justifying all the talk that has gone before. But I think it's
+mostly Henry that makes the family unpopular."
+
+"How does he do it?"
+
+The clerk shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I don't know all the stories, but they say there was something queer
+about the things he did when he was a boy. Anyhow, he got the town
+down on him, and that's the way it has been ever since."
+
+"The latest about Dr. Underwood," a boy called at the door. He tossed
+a crumpled sheet of paper to the clerk, who read it and then smilingly
+laid it before Burton. The sheet was typewritten, not printed, and it
+bore the following legend:
+
+
+"Search Dr. Underwood's house. You will find evidence of his guilt."
+
+
+Burton frowned. "It strikes me that there is either too much or too
+little said about all this business. If there is any substantial
+evidence against the man, he ought to be arrested. If there isn't, his
+accusers ought to be. Why don't the parties who send out a bill like
+this sign it?"
+
+The clerk smiled his disinterested smile. "They're afraid to. I told
+you it wasn't considered healthy to oppose Dr. Underwood. Something is
+bound to happen to them."
+
+"Nonsense," said Burton impatiently.
+
+"Of course," agreed the smiling clerk, and sauntered away.
+
+Burton sat still and considered. His personal irritation was swallowed
+up in this more serious complication. How did this curious and
+unexpected situation affect the commission with which he was charged?
+He thought of Rachel Overman, fastidious, critical, ultra refined, and
+in spite of his preoccupation he smiled to himself. The idea of an
+alliance between her house and that of a man who was popularly
+supposed to indulge on occasion in highway robbery struck him as
+incongruous enough to be called humorous. At any rate, he now had a
+reasonable excuse for going no further with his "fool errand." The
+role of Lancelot, wooing as a proxy for the absent prince, had by no
+means pleased him, and it was with a guilty sense of relief at the
+idea of dropping it right here that he called for a time-table.
+
+He figured out his railway connections, and went to the office to give
+his orders. As he passed the open window his attention was caught by
+two men who had met on the sidewalk outside. One of them was talking
+excitedly and flourishing a paper which looked much like the
+typewritten sheet the clerk had shown him. It was the man with whom
+Burton had clashed at the station.
+
+"Who is that man,--the smaller one?" he asked.
+
+The clerk glanced out and smiled.
+
+"That's the man I was telling you about,--Orton Selby."
+
+"So that's the man who is bringing this charge against Dr. Underwood!
+Who's the other?"
+
+"Mr. Hadley. A banker and one of our prominent citizens."
+
+Burton crumpled up his time-table and tossed it into the waste-basket
+quite as though he had had no intention of taking the next train out
+of town.
+
+"Will you direct me to Dr. Underwood's house now?" he said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+AT THE RED HOUSE
+
+
+Burton could have found his way to the Red House without any further
+direction than the clerk had given him, and it was chiefly curiosity
+that made him try another experiment on the way. He had come by the
+side street, and half a block away he saw the large red house facing
+toward Rowan street. At the rear ran a high board fence, separating
+the grounds belonging to the house from an alley which cut through the
+middle of the block. As he passed the end of the alley, he noticed a
+man and a woman talking together by the gate which opened into the
+house grounds. The woman's excited gestures caught his attention. She
+was shaking her hands at the man in a way that might have meant anger
+or impatience or merely dismissal, but which certainly meant something
+in a superlative and violent degree. Then she darted in through the
+gate, slamming it shut, and the man came running down the alley toward
+the street with a curious low lope that covered the ground amazingly,
+though it seemed effortless.
+
+Burton had stopped, at first to see whether it were a case that called
+for interference. Now, as the man jumped out just in front of him, he
+spoke to him,--as much from a desire to see the face of a man who ran
+so furtively as from curiosity as to the effect the doctor's name
+would have. "Pardon me," he said. "Can you tell me if this is where
+Dr. Underwood lives?"
+
+But this time his cast drew nothing. The man stopped a moment, cast a
+sharp though furtive glance up at his questioner, and shook his head.
+
+"Don't know," he said curtly, and hurried on. Burton took the liberty
+of believing that the man had lied.
+
+The Red House had a character and quality of its own that set it
+immediately apart from the rest of this half-baked town. It was a
+large house, with signs of age that were grateful to him, set back in
+extensive grounds which were surrounded by high hedges of shrubbery.
+The house itself was shaded by old trees, and the general effect of
+the place was one of aloofness, as different as possible from the
+cheap, new, easy-going publicity of the rest of the street. If it be
+true that human beings mould their surrounding to reflect their own
+characters, then the Underwoods were certainly not commonplace people.
+Burton was sensitive to influences, and as he stepped inside the
+grounds and let the gate shut behind him, he had an indefinable
+feeling that he had stepped into an alien territory. He glanced back
+at the street outside as an adventurer who has strayed into an
+enchanted land may look back for reassurance to the safe and
+commonplace country he has left.
+
+A man in the rough dress of a gardener was down on his knees beside a
+flower-bed in the garden, and Burton approached him.
+
+"Is this Dr. Underwood's house?"
+
+"He lives here," the man said coolly, without glancing up.
+
+"You mean he doesn't own it?" Burton asked, more for the sake of
+pursuing the conversation than from any special interest in Dr.
+Underwood's tax list.
+
+"He couldn't own that, could he?" asked the man, pointing dramatically
+at the tulip about which he had been building up the earth.
+
+"You are a philosopher as well as a gardener."
+
+"I?" The man stood up, and Burton saw that he was young, and that his
+face, in spite of its somberness, was intelligent and not
+unattractive. "Oh, I am a human being, like the rest of the
+impertinent race. I try to forget what I am, but I have no right to.
+You do well to remind me."
+
+"Why do you wish to forget?" asked Burton curiously.
+
+"Who that is human would not wish to forget? Who that is human would
+not wish at times that he were a tulip, blooming in perfect beauty,
+and so doing all that could be asked of him? Or an oak, like that one,
+fulfilling its nature without blame and without harm?"
+
+"Are you Ben Bussey?" Burton asked on a sudden impulse, remembering
+the name of the young man whom the hotel clerk had mentioned as being
+the subject of popular stories. This young man was certainly queer
+enough to give rise to legends.
+
+He was not prepared for the effect of his question. The young man drew
+back as though he had been struck, while a look where fear and
+distaste and reproach were mingled darkened his face.
+
+"Who are you?" he asked harshly. "What do you know about Ben Bussey?"
+
+"I have heard the name mentioned, that's all, as that of a young man
+living with Dr. Underwood. I assure you I meant nothing offensive."
+Unconsciously he had adopted the tone of one speaking to an equal.
+This was no common gardener.
+
+"No, I am not Ben Bussey," the young man said, after a pause in which
+he obviously struggled to regain his self-control. "I have often
+wished I were, however. I am Henry Underwood." He looked up with a
+sharp defiance in his eyes as he spoke the name. It was as though he
+expected to see some sign of repulsion.
+
+"I am very glad to meet you, then. My name is Burton. Mrs. Overman, of
+Putney, asked me to bring a message to your sister."
+
+"You will find her in the house, I suppose," the young man answered
+carelessly. He turned indifferently away, as though he had no further
+interest in his visitor, and in a few minutes he was bent over another
+flower-bed, absorbed in his work.
+
+Burton walked up to the house, his pulses curiously atingle. No wonder
+the Underwoods got themselves talked about in the neighborhood, if
+this was a sample of the way in which they met the advances of
+strangers! After ringing the bell, he glanced back at Henry Underwood.
+He had risen from the ground and stood with bared head looking up into
+the branches of the oak with an expression that struck Burton even at
+that distance as inexpressibly sad.
+
+The door was opened by a middle-aged servant, in whom Burton
+recognized the woman he had seen gesticulating so violently in the
+back yard. She looked out at him with surprise and caution, and with
+the obvious intent of not admitting him without cause shown.
+
+"Is Miss Underwood at home?" he asked.
+
+"I don't know. Likely she is," the woman answered, still with that
+uncomprehending look of wonder at his intrusion.
+
+"Will you take her my card, please?" And with a little more muscular
+effort than he was in the habit of using when entering a house, he
+forced the door far enough back to enable him to pass the guarded
+portal, and with an air of assurance that was largely factitious,
+walked into a room opening from the hall, which he judged to be a
+reception room.
+
+The woman followed him to the door and looked dubiously from him to
+his card, which she still held in her hand.
+
+"I will wait here while you see if Miss Underwood is at home and
+whether she can see me. Please look her up at once," he said
+positively. The tone was effective. The woman departed.
+
+The same evidences of old-time dignity and present-day decay that he
+had noted in the grounds struck Burton in the drawing-room. The room
+was a stately one, built according to the old ideas of spaciousness
+and leisure, but the carpet was worn, the upholstery dingy, and a
+general air of disuse showed that the days of receptions must be long
+past. Evidently the Underwoods were not living in the heyday of
+prosperity. To do Rachel justice, she would not care about that except
+incidentally. But she would care a great deal about the family's
+social standing. Burton tried, to the best of his masculine ability,
+to take an inventory of things that would enable him to answer the
+questions she was sure to pour out upon him,--always supposing his
+mission were in any degree successful.
+
+He walked to the window and looked out upon the side garden. Not far
+from the house was a rustic seat, and here a lady was sitting,--a
+tall, gray-haired lady, reading a ponderous book. The conviction that
+this must be Mrs. Underwood made him look at her with the liveliest
+interest. The servant to whom Burton had given his card came out, in
+obvious haste and excitement, but the reading lady merely lifted a
+calm hand to check her, and turned her page without raising her eyes.
+But she shook her head, seemingly in answer to some question, and the
+messenger returned hastily to the house. The lady continued to read.
+
+Burton smiled to himself over the little scene. Mrs. Underwood, if
+this were she, would be able to give points in self-possession to
+Rachel herself.
+
+But the moment that Leslie Underwood entered the room, Burton forgot
+all his hesitations and reluctances. In the instant while he bowed
+before her, his mind took a right-about-face. It was not merely that
+she was unexpectedly beautiful. That would account for Philip's
+infatuation, but Burton was a keener judge of human nature. Behind the
+girl's mask of beauty there looked out a spirit so direct, so genuine,
+that it was like a touchstone to prove those qualities in others.
+Burton felt something pull him erect as he looked at her. Philip had
+drawn a prize which he probably neither understood nor deserved,--and
+the High Ridge tales about Dr. Underwood were preposterous
+absurdities. All this in the flash of an eye!
+
+"You wished to see me?" she asked. Her voice had a vibrant ring.
+
+"Yes,--though I am merely an ambassador." (No thought now of modifying
+his commission!) "I come from Philip Overman."
+
+Her face flushed sensitively at the name.
+
+"Philip has been seriously ill," he said.
+
+"I am sorry to hear it."
+
+"Even yet his condition causes keen anxiety to his mother."
+
+A little change passed over her sensitive face,--could it have been a
+flicker of amusement? The suspicion helped to restore his nerve. Who
+was this young woman after all, that she should dare to smile at
+Rachel Overman's anxiety for her boy? People who knew Mrs. Overman
+were accustomed to treat even her whims with respect. He continued a
+thought more stiffly.
+
+"His physician, I may say, admits that her fears are justified. He is
+in an extremely nervous and excitable condition, and it is considered
+that the best hope for his recovery lies in removing the cause of the
+mental disturbance which is at the root of his physical overthrow. His
+unhappiness is sending him into a decline."
+
+She looked at him quizzically. There was no question now about the
+hidden amusement that brought that gleam into her eyes. And she
+answered with a rocking, monotonous cadence that flared its mockery in
+his ears.
+
+"Men have died, and worms have eaten them," she said slowly, "but--not
+for love."
+
+Burton flushed to the roots of his hair. He knew that he had not been
+honest in his plea,--that it was for Rachel's sake and not for
+Philip's (confound the boy!) that he had turned special pleader in the
+case,--but for heaven's sake, why couldn't the girl have pretended
+with him for a little while? Couldn't she see that he had to present
+the best side of his cause?
+
+"I think possibly the matter is more serious than you realize," he
+said, dropping his eyes. "Philip is a high-strung young man. His
+disappointment was profound. It has seemingly shattered his ambition
+and his interest in life."
+
+"Philip is a self-willed young man," she said, in a carefully modulated
+voice that was so palpable a mimicry of his own that he was torn
+between a desire to applaud her skill and to box her ears for her
+impertinence. "He cried for the moon, and when he couldn't have it,
+he evidently made things uncomfortable for his dear mamma and his
+self-sacrificing friend. But I believe, speaking under correction,
+that the best modern authorities, as well as the classic one I have
+already quoted, agree that the probabilities are highly in favor of a
+complete recovery,--in time. Don't you agree with me?"
+
+"I am sorry not to be able to do so. In the first place I have been
+retained as a witness by the other side. In the second place, I can
+judge, as you cannot, of the rarity of the treasure that he thinks he
+has lost. I cannot say that his despair is excessive."
+
+She smiled appreciatively.
+
+"That was really very well done, under the circumstances. Well, now
+that these polite preliminaries have passed, what is the real object
+of your visit?"
+
+"Allow me to point out that you make an ambassador's task unusually
+difficult by pressing so immediately to the point, but, since that is
+your way, I can only meet you in the same direct manner. My object is
+to ask whether it is not possible for you to reconsider your refusal
+to marry Philip Overman."
+
+She lifted her head with a look of surprise. There was a sparkle in
+her eyes and this time it was not amusement.
+
+"Did he send you?" she asked.
+
+"He raved of you in his delirium. He talked of you incessantly. He has
+begged me times without number to ask you to come and let him see you
+for a minute,--for an hour. We pulled him through the fever and the
+rest of it, but his physical recovery has not restored his mental
+tone. He will not take up his life in the old way. He vows now that as
+soon as we let go our present surveillance, he will enlist and get
+himself sent to the Philippines. I think he means it. And it would be
+rather a pity, for in his state of health, to go to the Philippines as
+a common soldier would mean a fairly expeditious form of suicide. It
+would, beyond the slightest question, break his mother's heart. And
+she has no one else,--her husband died less than a year ago. Philip's
+death would mean a rather sad end for a good old family that has
+written its name in its country's history more than once."
+
+She had dropped her eyes when he began, but at the last word she
+looked up.
+
+"And what of my family?" she asked. There was a vibrant undertone of
+suppressed feeling in her voice which made Burton look at her
+questioningly. Exactly what feeling was it that brought such a
+challenging light into her eyes? He took refuge in a generalization.
+
+"In America, the families of the high contracting parties come in only
+for secondary consideration, don't they?" he suggested. "But I have
+discharged my commission very poorly if I have failed to make you
+understand that Philip's family is waiting to welcome you with entire
+love and--respect." In spite of himself, he had hesitated before the
+last word.
+
+She laughed,--a forlorn little laugh that was anything but mirthful;
+but whatever answer she might have made was interrupted by the sounds
+of an unusual commotion outside. A woman's excited voice was heard in
+exclamations that were at first only half distinguishable.
+
+"Oh, doctor, doctor, for the love of heaven what have you been in,
+now? What have you done to yourself? You're hurt, doctor, I can see
+that you're hurt!"
+
+"Nonsense, Mrs. Bussey, don't make a fuss," a man's voice answered
+impatiently.
+
+But the housekeeper who had admitted Burton now rushed into the
+drawing-room, calling hysterically: "Oh, Miss Leslie, your father is
+killed!" And thereupon she threw her apron up over her head to render
+her more effective in the emergency.
+
+She was followed almost immediately by a sufficiently startling
+apparition,--a powerfully built man of more than middle age, with a
+keen blue eye and an eager face. But just now the face was disfigured
+by the blood that flowed freely from a wound on his temple, and he
+supported himself by the door as though he could not well stand alone.
+
+Leslie ran toward him with a cry.
+
+"Father! Oh, father, what has happened?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+THE HIGHWAYMAN'S MASK IS FOUND
+
+
+Burton had jumped to his feet. "Let me help you to a couch," he said,
+offering his arm as a support. "Not into this room," Dr. Underwood
+sputtered, wincing with pain as he spoke. "Good land, man, do you
+suppose a man with a sprained ankle who isn't going to be able to walk
+for the rest of his natural life, and then will have to go on crutches
+for a while, wants to sit down on one of those spindle-legged chairs
+that break if you look at them? Get me into the surgery. And Leslie,
+if you have an atom of filial feeling, you might show him the way
+instead of standing there like a classical figure of despair on a
+monument smiling at a bloody temple. I'm ashamed of you. Where's your
+equanimity? Ouch! Jerusalem! Sante Fe! You don't need to try to carry
+me, man. I can walk. Leslie, if you haven't any religious scruples
+against really opening the door while you are about it, perhaps
+this procession could get through without scraping the skin off its
+elbows,--"
+
+Burton had slipped his shoulder under the doctor's arm, and, guided by
+Leslie, he got him through a hall which seemed interminably long, and
+into the room which he had called the surgery. Burton helped him to
+the leathern couch.
+
+"Get me some hot water," he said in a hasty aside to Leslie, and she
+quickly left the room.
+
+He stripped off Dr. Underwood's shoe, and began to manipulate the
+swollen ankle.
+
+"This isn't going to be serious," he said soothingly. "It's merely a
+strain, not a dislocation. It will be painful for a while,--"
+
+"Will be! Jerusalem, what do you think it is now? You are a doctor."
+
+"No. But I have had some experience with accidents. If you want me to
+go for a doctor,--"
+
+"You are all I can stand at present, thank you. I know you are a
+doctor by your confounded nerve. Will be painful! I wish it were your
+ankle, confound you. And I'll never grumble again when my patients
+swear at me. I never realized before what a relief it is to swear at
+your doctor. How did you happen to be here? I suppose it was an
+accident and not a special dispensation of Providence."
+
+"I was the bearer of a message to your daughter, and so happened to be
+on hand at the right moment, that's all. My name is Burton,--Hugh
+Burton, Putney, Massachusetts."
+
+"A message? From whom? What about?"
+
+"There, doesn't that begin to feel more comfortable?"
+
+"Humph! That's a neat way of telling me to mind my own business."
+
+Burton merely laughed. "Let me look at this cut in your temple. So!
+Any more damages?"
+
+"My little finger was knocked out of joint, but I think I put it back.
+I guess that's all they had time to get in,--"
+
+"Who?"
+
+The sharp monosyllable made them both start. Leslie had returned with
+Mrs. Bussey, who was carrying a kettle of hot water; but in her
+surprise at her father's remark, she was very effectively blocking the
+way for the timid servant.
+
+"Leslie, your curiosity unfits you for any useful career," her father
+exclaimed, with a great show of irritation. "Do you suppose Dr. Burton
+wanted that hot water to meliorate the temperature of the room? If so,
+it will probably be just as well to keep Mrs. Bussey holding it in the
+doorway; but if you think he possibly meant to use it as a
+fomentation,--"
+
+"You needn't think you are going to put me off in that way," said
+Leslie, making way for Mrs. Bussey. "I am just as sorry as I can be
+that you are hurt, you know, but that isn't all. I want to know what
+has happened now."
+
+"Dr. Burton assures me it is merely a strain, though he goes so far as
+to admit that if I make the worst of it, I may be able to imagine that
+it hurts. But of course it doesn't really. It will merely be nerves."
+
+"Can I help you with that hot application, Mr. Burton?" Leslie asked.
+
+"Mrs. Bussey can do this. Do you know where to find some
+court-plaster? And scissors?"
+
+She got the required articles deftly, and watched in silence while he
+dressed the doctor's temple. Then she asked: "May he talk now?"
+
+"I should not undertake to prevent him."
+
+"Now, father,--"
+
+"Well, those little imps of Satan that live in that tumble-down house
+on King Street, where you went Friendly Visiting,--"
+
+"The Sprigg children?"
+
+"That's the name. They have heard Aristides called the unjust so long
+that they thought they would throw a stone or two to mark their ennui,
+but they misunderstood the use of the stone, and so they threw it at
+me instead of for me--"
+
+"Do you mean that they stoned you?"
+
+"Oh, I shouldn't have minded the little devils, but they threw stones
+at Dolly, and they might easily have broken her leg. That's what made
+me jump out of the buggy to go after them, because I thought they
+needed a lesson, but I jumped on one of their infernal stones and it
+turned my foot and that's how I twisted my ankle. So I got back into
+the buggy, and was glad I didn't have far to go to get to it. Then I
+came on home. I never knew that walk from the street to the front door
+was so long."
+
+"But your face--?"
+
+"Oh, that was one of the stones that flew wide of the mark. The little
+heathen don't know how to throw straight. They ought to be kept under
+an apple-tree with nothing to eat until they learn how to bring down
+their dinner with the first throw."
+
+Leslie clenched her hands.
+
+"It is outrageous. I don't see how you can treat it so lightly. That
+they should dare to stone you,--to try deliberately to hurt you,
+perhaps to kill you! Oh, they would never dare if it were not for this
+shameful, unendurable, wicked persecution!"
+
+"Leslie, after the example which I have always carefully given you of
+moderation in language,--"
+
+"It is wicked. It is unendurable. I feel as though I were in a net
+that was drawing closer and closer about me. It is the secrecy of it
+that makes me wild. If I could only fight back! But to have some one
+watching in the dark, and not to know who or what it is,--to suspect
+everybody,--"
+
+"Leslie, don't you realize that Dr. Burton will think you delirious if
+you talk like this? If you are jealous of my temporary prominence as
+an interesting patient,--"
+
+Leslie turned swiftly to Burton.
+
+"My father has been made the object of a most infamous persecution by
+some unknown person. The most outrageous stories are circulated about
+him, the most unjustifiable things are done,--like this. Those
+children don't go around stoning people in general; they have been put
+up to it by some one who is always watching a chance,--some one who
+has used them as an instrument for his malice!"
+
+"You must make some allowance for the intemperate zeal of a daughter,
+Dr. Burton," said Dr. Underwood. A twinge of pain twisted his smile
+into a grimace. He had a wide, flexible mouth, and when he grinned he
+looked a caricature. Burton reflected that a man must be sustained by
+an unusually strong consciousness of virtue to risk his character on
+such a grin,--or else it was the very mockery of virtue.
+
+"Then you think Miss Underwood overstates the case?" he asked
+thoughtfully. He was glad to have them talk about the matter. It was a
+curious situation, even without considering its possible effect on
+Philip's life.
+
+"Well, I have seen too many queer things that turned out to be mere
+coincidences to be so sure that there is really a conspiracy against
+me," Underwood said quietly. "Public opinion is a queer thing. It
+takes epidemics. At present it seems to have an epidemic of suspicion
+of me. It will probably run its course and recover."
+
+"What form does it take?"
+
+"The latest and for the time being the most embarrassing form is that
+it takes me for a highwayman. I have been pretty hard up at times, but
+I confess I never had the originality to think of that method of
+relieving my necessities. And yet, confound the sarcasm of the idiots,
+they are determined to give me the discredit without the cash. If I
+had only got Selby's money,--I've no doubt he got it by holding up his
+customers in his turn,--I wouldn't mind these innuendoes so much."
+
+"Oh, well, so long as the Grand Jury doesn't think it worth
+mentioning, you can probably afford to take it with equal
+indifference," said Burton lightly.
+
+But Leslie turned upon him with immediate dissent.
+
+"I should much rather have the matter taken up and sifted to the
+bottom. Then there might be some chance of finding out who is behind
+all these mysterious happenings. They don't happen of themselves. As
+it is, there is talk, and suspicion, and sidelong looks, and general
+ostracism, and I go around hating everybody, because I don't know whom
+to hate! Oh, if I were only a man! I would do something."
+
+"I have done something now, Leslie," said her father. "I have invited
+a committee to come here this evening and make a search, as those fool
+bills suggested."
+
+"This evening?"
+
+"Yes. You will have to do the honors, if I am going to be laid up. I
+don't suppose your mother will care to see them. And Henry is not
+exactly the one." A shadow passed over his face, and he fell suddenly
+silent.
+
+"What do you mean by a search, if I may ask?" Burton put in. They were
+so frank in their attitude, he felt that his interest would not be
+regarded as an impertinence.
+
+"Why, ever since this rumor went abroad that I had held up Selby,
+there have been handbills distributed about town,--posted up on fences
+and thrust in open doors,--urging that my house be searched. It got on
+Leslie's nerves. So, just to let her see that something was doing, I
+told them today to come and search, and be hanged to them."
+
+"And they are coming this evening?"
+
+"Yes. That's the plan."
+
+"Is Selby one of them?" asked Burton with sudden interest.
+
+"Oh, yes. He's the one I spoke to about it. I understand he takes an
+interest in the matter."
+
+"Well, have you made ready for them?"
+
+"What do you mean?" asked Dr. Underwood.
+
+"Have you searched yourself?" laughed Burton.
+
+"I don't understand you," said Dr. Underwood. His tone was stern, and
+his manner indicated plainly that he considered it a matter of
+politeness not to understand.
+
+"Mrs. Bussey, may I trouble you to bring some more hot water? This is
+getting too cold. Thank you." He closed the door behind her, and came
+back to Dr. Underwood's couch. "It seems to me my suggestion is
+perfectly simple and the reason for it perfectly obvious. Some enemy
+is urging that your house be searched. I say enemy, because it must be
+clear that no friend would urge it in that manner. Now, if it is an
+enemy, he is not doing it for your benefit. He must have an idea that
+a search would injure you. How could he have that idea unless he knew
+that it would result in discovering something that, we will say for
+the sake of argument, he had previously concealed where it would be
+found at the right time? And here you are walking right into the trap,
+by inviting a public search without taking the precaution to make a
+preliminary search yourself."
+
+Leslie had listened with breathless eagerness, never moving her eyes
+from Burton's face. Now she turned with earnest reproach to her
+father.
+
+"Now, father!" she said.
+
+Dr. Underwood shook his head impatiently. "Do you mean that you would
+have me ask them to come here to make a search, and then look the
+place over first and remove anything that they might think
+incriminating? That would be a farce. I should be ashamed of myself."
+
+Leslie turned her reproachful eyes upon Burton.
+
+"Of course," she said, with that same earnestness.
+
+Burton laughed. "Why, what nonsense! Beautiful nonsense, if you will,
+but utter nonsense, all the same. According to your own account, you
+are dealing with some unscrupulous person who is trying to turn
+suspicion upon you. Why should you help him? He certainly wouldn't be
+trying to bring about an investigation unless it would help on his
+purpose,--assuming that he has the purpose Miss Underwood attributes
+to him."
+
+Dr. Underwood moved restlessly.
+
+"I should feel mighty cheap," he said.
+
+"Do you happen to have one of those handbills you speak of about?"
+asked Burton.
+
+"There's one on the mantel. Give it to him, Leslie."
+
+Burton crossed to the mantel and picked up the paper. It was a single
+sheet, typewritten. It read: "Search Underwood's rooms. You will find
+proof."
+
+"These have been distributed generally?"
+
+"Not many at a time, but a few one place one night and another place
+the next night. Every day since that damnable hold-up, I have heard
+directly or indirectly that some one has received or seen some such
+notice."
+
+Burton's eye wandered around the room. "When they come, I suppose they
+will begin here. This is the room where you would be most likely to
+conceal the evidence of your crimes, I take it. Now, let me consider
+where you would hide it. There might be a hiding place beneath the
+bricks in front of the fireplace, or behind some of the loose tiles
+back of the mantel. I see that one book has recently been disturbed in
+that set of medical encyclopedias,--the dust on the shelf shows it.
+Did you put something behind it?"
+
+Laughingly he pulled out the volume he had indicated, and with it a
+handkerchief which had been thrust behind it. He shook it out, and
+then he laughed no more. There were two holes cut in the handkerchief
+for eyelets, and the wrinkled corners showed that it had been knotted
+hard, as a kerchief that had been tied over a man's face would have
+been.
+
+"Santa Fe!" gasped Dr. Underwood, wrinkling up his face in one of his
+peculiar grimaces. It served to conceal his emotions as effectively as
+a mask.
+
+Leslie sprang to her feet and stared hard at the rag, with a
+fascinated look. She had unconsciously clasped her hands together, and
+there was a look of fright in her eyes.
+
+"Now do you see?" she cried. "That's the sort of thing we have to
+expect all the time."
+
+Burton crushed the kerchief in his hand. "A very crude device. Your
+committee would have to be very special fools to believe that a man
+would preserve such a damning piece of evidence when there was a
+fireplace in the room, and matches were presumably within reach. Shall
+I burn it up?"
+
+"No," said Dr. Underwood suddenly. "Give it to me. I feel in honor
+bound to show it to the committee and tell them just how and where it
+was found."
+
+Burton shrugged his shoulders. "I am rather inclined to believe that
+you need a business manager, my dear Dr. Quixote."
+
+The door opened and the gray-haired woman whom Burton had seen reading
+in the garden entered the room. Her composure was so insistent that
+Burton felt suddenly convicted of foolish excitability.
+
+"Mrs. Bussey understood that you had been hurt," she said, going up to
+the couch and looking down calmly at the doctor.
+
+Dr. Underwood squirmed. "Yes, Angelica, some sin or other has found me
+out, I suppose, for I have hurt my ankle. This is Mr. Burton, who
+happened to be on hand to take the place of Providence."
+
+Mrs. Underwood acknowledged Burton's bow with a slight inclination of
+the head, but with no slightest indication of curiosity. She sat down
+beside her husband's couch and thoughtfully placed her finger on his
+pulse.
+
+"Land of the living, Angelica, my ankle hasn't gone to my heart,"
+muttered Dr. Underwood, with some impatience.
+
+Leslie spoke aside to Burton.
+
+"What can we do? It isn't this thing only; this is just an instance.
+You don't know how horrible it is to have the feeling that some enemy
+is watching you in the dark. And my father is not practical,--you see
+that. We have no friends left!"
+
+"That is not so," he said quickly.
+
+"You mean that you will help him?" she asked eagerly. "Oh, if you
+would! There is no one to whom I can turn for advice."
+
+It was not exactly what he had meant, but he recognized at once that
+it was what he should have meant. If ever there were two babes in the
+wood, needing the kind attentions of a worldly and unoccupied robin--!
+Aside from that, if this girl were going to marry into the Overman
+family, he certainly owed it to Rachel to see that she came with a
+clean family record, if any efforts that he could make would establish
+a fact that should have been beyond question from the first.
+
+"Let me be present this evening, when this committee comes," he said,
+slowly. "I will consider the matter and tell you what I think I can
+do, after I have seen and heard them."
+
+"Stay and dine with us, then," she said quickly. "That will give me a
+chance to tell you some of the other things that have happened,--the
+things that father would like to call coincidences but that I know are
+all parts of one iniquitous conspiracy."
+
+"Thank you, I shall be glad to," he answered. "If I am going to
+undertake this case, I certainly want all the facts that have any
+bearing upon it."
+
+Leslie turned quickly to her mother.
+
+"Mother, Mr. Burton will stay for dinner."
+
+Mrs. Underwood had risen and she turned her calm eyes from her husband
+to Leslie. "Will he?" she said placidly. Then she drew her shawl about
+her shoulders and walked out of the room.
+
+Leslie exchanged a look with her father.
+
+"I'll speak to Mrs. Bussey," she said, and with one of her
+characteristically swift movements, she crossed the room and threw
+open the door which led to the rear of the house.
+
+"Why, Mrs. Bussey!" she exclaimed, with surprise and annoyance. That
+faithful servant, doubtless on the theory that her further attendance
+might be required, had been crouching so close to the door that the
+sudden opening of it left her sitting like a blinking mandarin in the
+open doorway. She rose somewhat stiffly to her feet, and turned a
+reproachful look upon her young mistress. Leslie shut the door with
+some emphasis, as she went out to the housekeeper's domain.
+
+Dr. Underwood laughed softly.
+
+"Poor old soul, it's hard on one with such an appetite for news to get
+nothing but the crumbs that float through the keyhole. I'm mighty glad
+that you are going to stay, Doctor."
+
+"Thank you. But your giving me that title makes me uncomfortable. I am
+not a physician. I'm afraid I am not much of anything but a
+dilettante."
+
+"You are a good Samaritan to come to the rescue of the outcast," said
+the doctor. "Perhaps you didn't know what an outcast I am,--or did
+you?" he added keenly, warned by some subtle change in Burton's face.
+
+"On the contrary, I thought when I saw your patience to your servant
+that you were the good Samaritan," said Burton quickly. This old man
+was so sharp that it was dangerous to think before him!
+
+The doctor's manner changed. "The poor woman is a fool, but she can't
+help that," he said. "We keep her for the sake of her son. Ben is a
+cripple,--paralyzed from a spinal injury. He has no other home. Are
+you to be in High Ridge for some time?"
+
+"That will depend on circumstances. By the way, Miss Underwood has
+asked me to be present this evening when the committee comes. If you
+have any objection--"
+
+Dr. Underwood looked quietly at the young man for a moment before
+replying. When he spoke, it was with courtesy in his tone, but he made
+no apology for his hesitation.
+
+"Not in the least. You will put me under further obligations by
+staying. Anyhow, if Leslie has asked you to stay, I know my place too
+well to object. Did you meet Leslie in Washington?"
+
+"I never had the pleasure of meeting Miss Underwood before, but I have
+heard a great deal of her from my friend, Philip Overman."
+
+"Oh!" said Dr. Underwood, with a keen look. Then he threw his head
+back, closed his eyes, and murmured: "I am glad you arrived in time to
+meet the other investigating committee in active operation, Mr.
+Burton. The theatrical attractions in High Ridge are dull just now."
+
+"I am finding High Ridge anything but dull," said Burton, ignoring the
+covert thrust of that "other." "And I can see possibilities of much
+entertainment here. For instance, in investigating your investigating
+committee, while your investigating committee is investigating you."
+
+He laughed as he spoke, little guessing how far afield the pursuit of
+that entertainment was going to carry him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+THE CURIOUS EXPERIENCES OF THE
+UNDERWOOD FAMILY
+
+
+It was a curious meal, that dinner. Burton often thought afterwards
+that in all the varied experiences of his life, and he had had a good
+many, first and last, he had never met at one time, and under
+circumstances of such sudden and peculiar intimacy, four people so
+unusual. Dr. Underwood had been helped to a couch in the dining-room,
+and had his dinner from an invalid's table. His eager face, with its
+keen blue eyes and flexible mouth, was so vividly alert that no one
+could forget him for a moment, whether he spoke or was silent. When he
+laughed, which was often, he wrinkled his face into a mask. For a
+simple device, it was the most effective means imaginable for
+concealing an emotion.
+
+Mrs. Underwood presided at her own table with the detached air of a
+casual guest. "Mistress of herself, though china fall," Burton
+murmured to himself as he looked at her; and he had an intuition that
+china would quite frequently be exasperated into falling by her calm.
+Henry sat mostly silent, with downcast eyes, though occasionally he
+would look up, under half-lifted lids, with an expression of scorn or
+secret derision. If he had shown more animation or kindliness, he
+would have been a handsome man; but the heavy melancholy of his look
+had drawn bitter lines about his mouth, and his very silence seemed
+half reproachful, half sullen.
+
+As for Leslie, the only discomposing thing about her was her beauty.
+Every time that Burton looked at her, it struck him anew as
+incongruous and distracting that she should hand him the bread or have
+an eye to his needs. She should have been kept in a case or a frame.
+She belonged in a palace, where she would have due attendance and
+ceremony. Well,--Philip had not been such a fool, after all.
+
+"Now I am going to begin my story," said Leslie, "because I want Mr.
+Burton to understand what lies back of this present persecution. The
+story goes back six years."
+
+Henry gave his sister one of his slow, curious looks, but dropped his
+eyes again without putting his silent comment into words.
+
+"Six years ago we were kept in hot water all one summer by some
+malicious person who played mischievous pranks on us, and wrote
+anonymous letters to us and about us. For instance, there were letters
+warning people to be on their guard against papa, saying he had
+learned from the Indian medicine men how to put spells on people and
+make them wither away and die."
+
+"If I could have done half the wonders they credited with me with,"
+laughed Dr. Underwood, "I would have out-Hermanned Hermann and
+out-Kellered Keller. Indian fakirs and black magicians wouldn't have
+been in it with Roger Underwood, M. D. It was like accusing a man who
+is shoveling dirt for one-twenty-five a day of having money to pay the
+national debt concealed in his hatband."
+
+"Then there were a lot of letters about Henry," Leslie went on. "They
+would say, for instance: 'Henry Underwood is a liar.' 'Henry Underwood
+is a thief.' 'Henry Underwood ought to be in the penitentiary.' All
+one summer that kept up."
+
+Henry had dropped his knife and fork and sat silent, without looking
+at his sister. His face was the face of one who is nerving himself to
+endure torture.
+
+"Were there any accusations of the other members of the family?"
+
+"No. Only Henry and father.
+
+"Who received the letters? Friends of yours? Or enemies?"
+
+"They were sent to the tradesmen and the more prominent people in
+town. We heard of them here and there, but probably we didn't know
+about all that were received. I remember more clearly than anything
+else how angry I was at some of the tricks."
+
+"There was something more than these anonymous letters, then?"
+
+The doctor frowned but Leslie answered readily.
+
+"Yes. The letters continued at odd times all summer, but there were
+other things happening at the same time. For instance, one day an
+advertisement appeared in the paper saying that Dr. Underwood offered
+fifty cents apiece for all the cats and dogs that would be brought him
+for the purpose of vivisection. Now, papa does not practise
+vivisection--"
+
+"He does not now," Mrs. Underwood interrupted, with impressive
+deliberation, "but I am not at all sure that he never did. And as I
+have said before, if he was ever guilty of that abominable wickedness,
+at any time or under any circumstances, he richly deserved all the
+annoyance that advertisement brought upon him."
+
+Dr. Underwood wrinkled up his face in a grimace, but made no answer.
+
+"Well, he doesn't now, and he didn't six years ago," Leslie resumed
+pacifically, "but it was hard to convince people of that. You should
+have seen the place the next day! Farmers, street boys, tramps, all
+sorts of rough people kept coming here with cats and dogs of all
+kinds,--oh, the forlorn creatures! And when papa refused to buy them,
+the people were angry and threatened to have him arrested for not
+carrying out his agreement. And all the ministers and the women's
+societies called on him to remonstrate with him for such wickedness,
+and when he said that he had not had anything to do with the
+advertisement, they showed plainly that they thought he was trying to
+crawl out of it because he had been caught. Oh, it was awful."
+
+"Did you make any attempt to find out how the advertisement came to
+the paper, Doctor?"
+
+Dr. Underwood shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Yes, they showed me the order. It had come by mail, with stamps
+enclosed to pay for the insertion. The dunderheaded fools hadn't had
+sense enough to guess that when a physician wants 'material' he
+doesn't advertise for it in the morning paper."
+
+"Under the circumstances, Roger," said Mrs. Underwood gravely, "your
+flippancy is not becoming."
+
+"It certainly was a neat scheme, if the object was to embarrass you,
+Doctor. What else, Miss Underwood?"
+
+"One day every grocer in town appeared at the door with a big load of
+household supplies,--enough to provision a regiment for a winter. They
+had all received the same order,--a very large order, including
+expensive and unusual things that they had had to send away for. And
+of course they were angry when we wouldn't take any of the things.
+They said that after that they would accept no orders unless we paid
+for them in advance, and that was sometimes embarrassing, also!"
+
+"Were the orders received by mail, as in the other cases?"
+
+"I believe they were."
+
+"Did you get any of the original papers? And have you preserved them?"
+
+"No, I didn't preserve them," said Dr. Underwood. "You see, the
+disturbance was only a sporadic one. It stopped, and I dismissed the
+matter from my mind. I didn't realize that Leslie had stored so many
+of the details in her memory. I think she attaches too much importance
+to them."
+
+"I am not at all sure that she does," said Burton promptly. "They
+certainly constitute a curious series of incidents. Was there anything
+more, Miss Underwood?"
+
+"Oh, yes, indeed. One morning we could not get out of the house.
+During the night, every door and every window had been barred across
+from the outside. Strips of board had been fastened across all of them
+with screws so there had been no noise that would waken us. On the
+front door was a piece of paper, and written on it in big letters was
+'This is a prison.' Henry found it when he came home,--he had been
+spending the night with a friend,--and tore it down, and unscrewed the
+bars on the front door and let us out of our prison."
+
+"You could have got down all right from the second story by the big
+oak on the east side," said Henry. It was the first time he had
+contributed anything to the recital, and he spoke now in an impatient
+tone, as though the whole conversation bored him.
+
+"Has it occurred to you," asked Burton thoughtfully, "that all these
+incidents bear the same marks of freakishness and mischief rather than
+of venomous malice? They are like the tricks a schoolboy might play
+to get even with some one he had a grudge against. They are not like
+the revenge a man would take for a real injury or a deep-felt
+grievance."
+
+He glanced up at Dr. Underwood as he spoke, and caught the tail end of
+a scrutinizing look which that careless gentleman was just withdrawing
+from Henry's unconscious face. The furtive watchfulness of that look
+was wholly at variance with the offhand tone in which he answered
+Burton.
+
+"I have not the slightest doubt you are right about that. It was mere
+foolishness on the part of some ignorant person, who wanted to do
+something irritating, and probably enjoyed the feeling that he was
+keeping us all agog over his tomfoolery."
+
+"Oh, but it was more than nonsense," cried Leslie. "You forget about
+the fires. One night, Mr. Burton, Mrs. Bussey left the week's washing
+hanging on the lines in the back yard, and in the morning we found
+that it had all been gathered into a heap and burned. That was
+carrying a joke pretty far. And soon afterwards there was an attempt
+to burn the house down."
+
+"Come, Leslie, let me tell that incident," interposed her father. "We
+found, one morning, a heap of half-charred sticks of wood on the front
+doorstep. It looked sinister at first sight, of course, but when I
+examined it, I was sure that there had been no fire in the sticks when
+they were piled on the step, or afterwards. It was a menace, if you
+like, but as Mr. Burton points out about those other matters, it was
+rather a silly attempt at a scare than a serious attempt at arson.
+Don't paint that poor devil any blacker than he is, my girl. He has
+probably realized long ago that it was all a silly performance, and we
+don't want to go about harboring malice."
+
+"Of course not. Only,--those things did actually happen to us, Mr.
+Burton."
+
+"Don't say happen, Leslie," said Mrs. Underwood, with the curious
+effect she always had of suddenly coming back to consciousness at any
+word that struck her ethical mind. "Things don't happen to people
+unless they have deserved them. What seems to be accident may be
+really punishment for sin."
+
+"Well, these things befell us after that fashion," said Leslie
+patiently, picking her words to avoid pitfalls of metaphysics. "Then
+they stopped. Everything went on quietly until a few weeks ago. Then
+things began again."
+
+"Let me warn you, Burton," interposed Dr. Underwood again, "that this
+is where Leslie becomes fantastic. She has too much imagination for
+her own good. She ought to be writing fairy tales, or society
+paragraphs for the Sunday papers. Now go ahead, my dear. Do your
+worst."
+
+"Papa persists in making fun of me because I see a connection between
+what happened six years ago, and the things that have been coming up
+lately, but I leave you to judge. There have been no tricks on us, no
+disturbances about the house, but there have been stories circulated,
+perfectly outrageous stories,--"
+
+"The highwayman story?"
+
+"That is one of them."
+
+"But surely the best way to treat that is with silent contempt!"
+
+But Leslie shook her head.
+
+"That isn't papa's way. He answers back. And it certainly is annoying
+to have your neighbors repeating such tales, and humiliating to find
+that they are ready to go more than halfway in believing them."
+
+"It is not only humiliating; it is expensive," murmured Dr. Underwood,
+letting his head fall back against the cushions of the couch, and
+closing his eyes a little wearily. "You can't expect people to call in
+a doctor who is suspected of robbing the public and occasionally
+poisoning a patient. I have practically nothing left but charity
+patients now, and pretty soon they will consider that it is a charity
+to let me prescribe for them."
+
+Burton's eyes were drawn to Leslie's face. She was looking at her
+father with a passion of pity and sympathy that was more eloquently
+expressed through her silence than by any words. Mrs. Underwood broke
+the silence with her judicial speech.
+
+"I do not think," she said, "that there has ever been anything in your
+treatment of your patients that would at all justify the idea that you
+poisoned Mr. Means. Therefore, you can rest assured that the story
+will do you no harm. We really can suffer only from our own acts."
+
+Underwood opened his eyes and looked at Burton with portentous
+gravity.
+
+"We'll consider that matter settled, then. Sometime I should like to
+lay the details of that affair before you, Mr. Burton, because you
+would understand the wild absurdity of it all. As a matter of fact,
+strychnine in fatal quantities was found in the bottle of medicine
+which I made up myself, and I have not the slightest idea who could
+have tampered with it. Some one had. That is one of the mysteries
+which Leslie wants to fit in with the others of the series. But we
+haven't time for that now, for my committee is almost due, and I am
+going to ask you to help me back to the surgery. I will meet them
+there."
+
+"One moment," said Burton. "You surely must have laid these matters
+before the police. Did they make no discoveries, have no theories?"
+
+Underwood glanced at his daughter,--plainly and obviously a glance of
+warning. But he spoke in his habitually easy way.
+
+"Oh, Selby has put it before the police," he said. "As I understand
+it, he has been neglecting his business to labor with the police by
+day and by night, trying to induce them to arrest me. It strike me
+that he is becoming something of a monomaniac on the subject, but I
+may be prejudiced."
+
+"I didn't mean the recent hold-up, but those earlier affairs,"
+explained Burton. "Didn't the police investigate them?"
+
+"Our police force has fallible moments, and this proved to be one of
+them. They chased all over the place, like unbroken dogs crazy over a
+scent, ran many theories to earth, and proved nothing," said the
+doctor in an airy tone, as one dismissing a subject of no moment.
+
+But Mrs. Underwood looked down the table toward Burton and spoke with
+her disconcerting and inopportune candor.
+
+"They tried to make out that it was Henry," she said calmly. "I think
+I may say, without being accused of partiality, that I do not consider
+their charges as proven, for though Henry has much to answer for--"
+
+"So you see we are very well-known people in the town and have been
+much in the public eye," interrupted the doctor smoothly.
+
+"Not so well-known as you might be," said Burton, catching wildly at
+the first conversational straw he could think of, in his eagerness to
+second the doctor's obvious effort to put a stop to his wife's
+disconcerting admissions. "I asked a man who was talking to Mrs.
+Bussey at your back gate if this was your house, and he didn't even
+know your name."
+
+"That is as gratifying as it is surprising," the doctor responded,
+also marking time. "I wonder who the ignorant individual could be."
+
+At that moment Mrs. Bussey entered the room, with her tray, and to
+keep the ball going he turned to question her. "Who was it you were
+talking to at the back gate this afternoon, Mrs. Bussey?"
+
+"Wasn't nobody," said Mrs. Bussey, with startled promptness.
+
+"A man. Didn't know my name. Was he a stranger?"
+
+"Didn't talk to nobody," she repeated doggedly, without looking up.
+"Who says I was talking to a strange man?"
+
+"It doesn't matter," said the doctor, with a surprised glance. "He was
+evidently unknown as well as unknowing, Mr. Burton,--or at any rate we
+keep peace in the family by assuming that he was non-existent. There
+are things into which it is not wise to inquire too closely. Now I
+believe that I'll have to ask for help in getting back into the
+surgery."
+
+Burton waited just long enough to assure himself that Henry was not
+going to his father's assistance, then offered his own arm. At the
+same moment he caught a slight but imperative sign from Mrs. Underwood
+to her son. In silent response to it, Henry came forward to support
+his father upon the other side. As soon as they got Dr. Underwood
+again into the surgery, Henry withdrew without a word. Burton felt
+that there was something wistful in the look which the doctor turned
+toward his son's retreating form. But he was saved from the
+embarrassment of recognizing the situation, for immediately Mrs.
+Bussey flung open the door without the formality of tapping and burst
+into the room.
+
+"There's men a-coming," she exclaimed breathlessly.
+
+"What's that? What d'ye mean?" demanded Dr. Underwood, startled and
+impatient.
+
+"There's three men a-coming in at the gate. Shall I let loose the
+dog?"
+
+"Go and let them in, you idiot. You will make Mr. Burton think that we
+have no visitors. Don't keep them waiting outside. They didn't come to
+study the architecture of the façade. Bring them here,--here to this
+room, do you understand?"
+
+Mrs. Bussey departed, muttering something under her breath that
+evidently expressed her bewildered disapproval of this break in the
+familiar routine of life, and Dr. Underwood looked up at Burton with
+his peculiar grin, which might mean: amusement or embarrassment or any
+other emotion that he wanted to conceal.
+
+"My investigating committee," he said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+THE INVESTIGATING COMMITTEE
+
+
+If Dr. Underwood awaited his investigating committee with any special
+anxiety, his mobile face did not show it. Burton read excitement,
+interest, even satirical amusement in it, but nothing like dread. But
+surprise and disapproval came into it when the door opened abruptly
+and Leslie entered.
+
+"I'm going to hear what they have to say," she announced.
+
+"Now, see here, Leslie, it's bad enough to have a daughter bothering a
+man to death in his own home, but when she begins to tag him around in
+public affairs, so that he can't even meet a committee of his
+neighbors who want to search his study in order to arrest him for
+highway robbery without having her putting herself in evidence, it
+becomes a regular nuisance. You go back to your spinning-wheel."
+
+"You neglected to bring me up to a spinning-wheel, father."
+
+"You go back to your mother."
+
+"I am going to stay here. I'll be reasonably quiet, but that's the
+only compromise I'll agree to. Don't waste nerve force scolding me,
+father. You need to conserve your strength." And with the evident
+intention of making herself as inconspicuous as possible she took a
+low chair half hidden by the heavy curtain of the window. Burton could
+not help thinking how futile any attempt at obscurity on her part must
+always be. Her beauty lit up the shadowy corner as a jewel lights its
+case. He had to make a conscious effort to turn his eyes away.
+
+Again the door opened and Henry entered. The contrast between his
+attitude and his sister's was striking. He entered hesitatingly, one
+would have said reluctantly, and his eyes were not lifted from the
+floor.
+
+"Mother thought I ought to be present," he said in a low voice.
+
+Dr. Underwood regarded him with a baffled look, and Burton understood
+and sympathized with his perplexity. He looked curiously at Henry
+himself. His youthful escapades, so out of the ordinary, had evidently
+made him something of a family problem.
+
+"You might profitably take for an example your brother's ready
+obedience to a parent's wishes," the doctor said dryly. He spoke to
+Leslie, but it was Henry who winced at the jibe. His face darkened,
+and he shot an angry look at his father.
+
+The tramping of feet in the hall announced the approach of the
+committee.
+
+"Here they be," said Mrs. Bussey, opening the door, and herself
+entering at the head of the little procession of three men. Her lively
+interest in the affair was comically evident.
+
+Dr. Underwood saved the situation from its awkwardness with a _savoir
+faire_ which Burton could not too much admire.
+
+"Good evening, gentlemen," he cried genially. "You are very welcome.
+You will excuse my remaining seated, I hope. I have sprained my ankle.
+Let me present you to my friend, Mr. Burton,--Mr. Hadley, who is one
+of our most distinguished citizens; Mr. Ralston, who forms the
+opinions of the public of High Ridge by virtue of his position as our
+leading editor; Mr. Orton Selby, who was the unhappy victim of the
+highway robbery of which you have heard and who is justifiably anxious
+to let no guilty man escape. Be seated, gentlemen."
+
+Burton bowed, in acknowledgment of the several introductions. He was
+touched by the simple-heartedness of Dr. Underwood in presenting him
+so frankly as a "friend," and felt more bound by it to act the part of
+a friend than he could have been by any formal pledge. He took quick
+appraisal of the three committeemen. Hadley was evidently prosperous,
+pompous and much impressed with his own importance. Ralston had the
+keen eye and dispassionate smile of the experienced newspaperman, so
+accustomed to having today's stories contradicted by to-morrow's that
+he has learned to be slow about committing himself to any side. Selby
+he had already met! That Selby remembered the fact was quite evident
+from the look of surprise and suspicion which he cast upon Dr.
+Underwood's guest. A striking man he was, with a dark narrow face, and
+a nervous manner. His eye was so restless that it seemed continually
+flitting from one object to another. His lips were thin, and, in their
+spasmodic twitching, gave the same sense of nervous instability that
+his restless eyes conveyed. Burton had an impulse to pick him up and
+set him forcibly down somewhere, with an injunction to sit still.
+
+"If you have formed any plan of procedure, gentlemen, go ahead," said
+Underwood. "We stand ready, of course, to assist you in any way
+possible."
+
+"Sorry you've had an accident," said Ralston, with friendly interest,
+"I hope it's not serious."
+
+"Oh, no. It interferes with my walking for the present, but I'll be
+all right in a few days. Those pestiferous little imps, the Sprigg
+children, threw stones at my nag, and some of them took effect on me.
+Tormented little wretches! They are bound to be in the fashion if it
+takes a leg,--my leg, I mean. I told them fire would descend from
+heaven to burn up children who stoned prophets, but they didn't seem
+to realize that I was a prophet."
+
+"I hope you may not prove so, in this instance," laughed Ralston.
+
+"Yes, if fire should descend upon them, it might look as though you
+were responsible," said Hadley, with a ponderous air of perpetrating a
+light pleasantry. "They say it is dangerous to go up against you,
+Doctor. Something is apt to happen."
+
+"Oh, laws!" gasped a frightened voice. Mrs. Bussey had been an
+open-mouthed listener to the conversation.
+
+Underwood turned sharply upon her, perhaps glad of an opportunity to
+vent his irritation indirectly.
+
+"Mrs. Bussey, while I regret to interfere with the liberty of action
+which belongs to every freeborn citizen of this great republic, I
+think we shall have to dispense with your presence at the ceremonies.
+I mean, Mrs. Bussey, we shan't need you any longer. You may go."
+
+The woman muttered a grumbling dissent, but slowly withdrew. Burton
+was divided between amusement over the scene and wonder that the
+Underwoods, whatever their financial stress, should keep so untrained
+and untrainable a servant. She seemed to have all the defects and none
+of the merits of an old family retainer.
+
+"Well, we came here for business and we don't want to be wasting
+time," said Selby abruptly. "You probably know how to get even with
+the Spriggs without delaying us."
+
+"Certainly," said Underwood courteously, "but there is something I'd
+like to say first,--"
+
+"If you are ready to make a confession, of course we are ready to hear
+you. I don't think anything else is in order at this point," said
+Selby, in the same aggressively abrupt manner.
+
+Burton was suddenly conscious of an impulse to go up to the man and
+knock him down, and by that token he knew, if there had been any
+reservation in his mind before, that he had taken sides for good and
+all. He was for Dr. Underwood. He glanced swiftly around the room to
+see how the others took this wanton rudeness. Ralston was watching the
+doctor quizzically from under his eyebrows. Hadley did not know that
+anything had happened. Henry was still as impassive as a statue, but
+Leslie, from her low seat by the window, was leaning forward with a
+look of lively indignation that was more eloquent than words. Burton
+went quickly over to her and sat down beside her without speaking.
+
+"What I have to say is entirely in order at this point, even though it
+be not a confession," Dr. Underwood said quietly. "I invited you here
+in good faith to conduct any sort of an investigation that you might
+consider necessary. An hour or so ago, Mr. Burton found this
+handkerchief concealed behind the books on that shelf. As you would of
+course have discovered it, if he had not found it, I consider it only
+proper that I should place it in your hands." He picked up the
+mutilated handkerchief which had been left on the table, and after a
+moment's hesitation, said: "Henry, will you hand this to Mr. Hadley,
+as chairman of this committee?"
+
+As Henry took the handkerchief from his father's hand, it fell open
+and the staring eyelet holes glared at the company. He stopped
+suddenly and a look of dismay went like a wave over his face. He
+glanced swiftly at his father. But while he hesitated, Selby sprang
+forward and snatched it from his hand with something like the snarl of
+an animal.
+
+"Look at that! Look at that, will you?" he almost shouted. Hadley
+blinked at it and Ralston got up and took the handkerchief in his
+hand.
+
+"It seems to be the orthodox thing," he said with interest.
+
+"Seems to be! Seems to be pretty conclusive, I should say. It's
+proof!"
+
+"It's proof that Dr. Underwood has a malicious enemy and a rather
+stupid one," said Burton, thinking that it was time for him to take a
+hand in this remarkable scene. "I found that handkerchief an hour ago,
+tucked behind one of the books there, where you would certainly have
+found it if you had made any search. It is, of course, perfectly
+evident that it was placed there for the express purpose of having you
+find it."
+
+"I don't see that that is so evident," Selby interrupted. "What have
+you got to say about this, anyhow?"
+
+"Do you think that if Dr. Underwood had had such an incriminating
+piece of evidence he would have kept it instead of destroying it? If
+he were bound to keep it, do you think he would hide it where the
+first careless search would bring it to light? If he had so hidden it,
+would he have invited you here to search? You can't answer yes to
+those questions, unless you think he is a fit subject for the insane
+asylum rather than the jail."
+
+Leslie shot him an eloquent glance of thanks. Hadley coughed and
+looked at Ralston, who was attending to Burton closely.
+
+"I agree with you perfectly," the editor said, and Hadley nodded.
+
+Selby turned a face of deliberate insolence upon Burton. "I don't know
+who you are, Mr. Burton, but you are here as a friend of Dr.
+Underwood's, that's clear."
+
+"Yes," said Burton. "I love him for the enemies he has made." Ralston
+looked at him with evident enjoyment.
+
+"Well, a friend's say-so won't go very far in clearing a man when
+facts like these stand against him. We're here looking for a thief. If
+it wasn't Dr. Underwood that held me up, let him explain that
+handkerchief, found here in his own private room."
+
+And Hadley sagely nodded.
+
+"I can't explain it," said Dr. Underwood. The life had gone out of his
+voice.
+
+"It explains itself," said Burton impatiently. "Some one is trying to
+make trouble for Dr. Underwood by a very clumsy and transparent
+device. Of course," he added, suddenly realizing that he was not
+taking the politic tone, "of course such an obvious trick might impose
+on ignorant people, but to three men of more than average intelligence
+and experience, it must be perfectly clear that the very obviousness
+of the evidence destroys its value."
+
+Ralston cocked his left eye at him and laughed silently. Hadley
+nodded, but with some dubiousness. He agreed heartily with that part
+of the speaker's last sentiment which bore witness to his more than
+average intelligence, but he had a dizzy feeling that he was getting
+himself somewhat tangled up as to what he was committed to. But Selby
+was a Cerberus superior to the temptations of any sop.
+
+"Then we'll look for some other evidence," he said aggressively.
+"We're here to search, and I propose to search."
+
+"The house is yours, gentlemen," said Dr. Underwood.
+
+Selby took a truculent survey of the room, which was not a large one.
+He walked over to the bookcase and ran his hand behind the books on
+the shelves and lifted heaps of loose papers and magazines without
+disclosing anything more deadly than dust. Then he opened the door of
+a medicine cabinet on the wall and pulled out the drawers of the
+table, and ran his eye over the mantel. He suggested a terrier trying
+to unearth a rat and apparently he was perfectly willing to conduct
+the search alone.
+
+Leslie was watching him with a look of so much indignation and
+repressed scorn that Burton bent to her and said in a low voice:
+"Wouldn't it be better for you to leave?"
+
+She shook her head.
+
+"Don't waste your good hate on him," Burton urged gently. "He isn't
+worth it."
+
+"There is some one behind all this who is," she flashed.
+
+"Yes. We'll find out who it is before we are through."
+
+She gave him a grateful look, and on the instant he began wondering
+how he could win another. They seemed especially well worth
+collecting.
+
+Selby had dropped on his knees before the open fireplace and was
+examining the bricks that made the hearth.
+
+"Some of these bricks are loose," he said accusingly to Underwood.
+
+"Careless of them," murmured the doctor.
+
+But Selby was in no mood for light conversational thrusts and parries.
+He was trying to pry up the suspicious bricks with his fingers and
+breaking his nails on them.
+
+"Hand him a knife, Henry," said Dr. Underwood.
+
+Henry took a clasp-knife from his pocket in the same passive silence
+that had marked him throughout, and mechanically opened the large
+blade. It slipped in his hand and Burton saw him wince as the steel
+shut with a snap upon his finger. But he opened it again and handed it
+to Selby, who took it with an inarticulate grunt. Burton kept his eye
+upon the cut finger, but as Henry, after a hasty glance, merely
+wrapped his handkerchief hard about it, and made no motion to leave
+the room, he concluded the hurt had not been as serious as it looked.
+
+
+[Illustration: "'_Well, perhaps this can be explained away, too!_'"
+PAGE 71.]
+
+
+Selby was busy trying to pry up one of the bricks with the knife, when
+suddenly the point snapped.
+
+"You've broken it," exclaimed Henry, who was standing nearest.
+
+"If I have, I'll pay for it," said Selby, with a vicious look. "I pay
+my debts in full every time. Hello! This looks like something
+interesting! Well, perhaps this can be explained away, too!" He picked
+up from the mortar under the loose brick a glittering something and
+held it up with a triumphant air.
+
+"What is it?" asked Ralston.
+
+"It's my watch-chain and my charm, that I was robbed of; that's what
+it is." He shook it in his excitement until the links rattled. "Is
+that evidence or isn't it? Does that prove anything or doesn't it?"
+
+"Is that chain yours?" asked Underwood gravely.
+
+"Of course it's mine. My initials are on the charm and the date it was
+presented to me. I guess there isn't any one going to claim that chain
+but me."
+
+He took it to Ralston and Hadley, talking excitedly. Underwood sat
+silent, with his head a little bent and his eyes on the floor. He
+looked as though a weight had fallen upon him. Burton tried to catch
+Leslie's eye for a reassuring glance, but she was anxiously watching
+her father and was regardless of everything else.
+
+"It looks bad--bad," muttered Hadley, handing the chain back to Selby.
+
+Henry had been glowering at Selby in somber silence, and now he
+startled every one by speaking out with a slow emphasis that stung.
+
+"I've heard it said that those who hide can find," he said.
+
+Selby whirled upon him. "Meaning me?"
+
+Henry lifted his shoulders in an exasperating shrug. "You went pretty
+straight to the right brick."
+
+Selby walked up to Henry with out-thrust chin, and spoke in a manner
+that struck Burton as deliberately offensive and provocative.
+
+"That's what you have to say, is it? Now my advice to you is that you
+say just as little as possible. You're not far enough out of the woods
+yourself to holler very loud."
+
+"How so? Do you mean now that it was I who robbed you?" Henry asked
+tauntingly. "It would have been quite easy for me to wear my father's
+cloak, if I wanted to throw suspicion on him; and to hide these things
+in the room, wouldn't it? Come, now! Was it I, or wasn't it?"
+
+Selby hesitated an instant. Burton wondered whether he were
+considering the advisability of changing his line of attack to that so
+audaciously suggested by Henry. Perhaps he regretted that he had not
+accused Henry in the first place, but saw that it was impossible
+consistently to do so now.
+
+"It's the sort of thing that you might do, easy enough, we all know
+that," he said bitingly. "We haven't forgotten your tricks here six
+years ago, and you needn't think it. Just because the police didn't
+catch you, you needn't think that you fooled anybody."
+
+"Gentlemen," the doctor tried to interpose, but no one heard him.
+Henry was evidently enjoying himself. He seemed curiously determined
+to provoke Selby to the uttermost, and the insolent mockery of his
+manner was all the more strange because of its contrast to his former
+taciturnity.
+
+"You're a poor loser, Selby. What's a few dollars more or less to make
+a fuss over? Some time you may lose something that you really will
+miss. As for this robbery, if you really were held up,--I don't know
+whether you were or not, since I have only your word for it,--I'm sure
+you didn't have money enough to pay for that cheap handkerchief. And
+as for that plated chain!" He lifted his shoulders.
+
+"What's mine is mine," said Selby, with the ineffective viciousness of
+a badgered animal.
+
+"But the point is, is everything yours that you think is?"
+
+"I'm going to find out who got my money," said Selby doggedly. "And as
+for you,--I'll get you yet."
+
+"Sorry, but you can't have me. I'm already engaged," said Henry
+deliberately.
+
+The retort seemed to carry Selby entirely beyond his own control.
+
+"You're very clever at making speeches, aren't you? Almost as clever
+as you are at throwing people, and breaking their backs--"
+
+But Dr. Underwood again interposed and this time successfully.
+
+"All this is aside from the question. We are not here to study ancient
+history in any of its forms. This committee was invited here to
+consider the robbery of Mr. Selby, and anything else is beside the
+mark."
+
+"And my watch-chain? Is that beside the mark? Found concealed here
+under your hearth. Does that mean nothing?"
+
+The doctor looked so unhappy that Burton took the answer upon himself.
+
+"It means exactly as much and as little as the handkerchief," he said.
+"It means that the place has been 'salted' in expectation of your
+visit, and if you want to go into the investigating business to some
+effect, you'll set yourselves to finding out who did it."
+
+"Never mind going into that," said Underwood a little anxiously.
+"These gentlemen were invited here to investigate me, and here my
+interest in the matter ends. If they are satisfied--"
+
+"But we are not," interrupted Selby. "Satisfied! I'm satisfied that
+we've got evidence enough to hang a man on, and I shall demand the
+arrest of Dr. Underwood."
+
+"Then you will do so on your own responsibility," said Ralston, in
+decided tones. "I think Mr. Burton is right. The evidence was so
+plainly intended to be found that it amounts to nothing. I, for one,
+shall not allow myself to be made a laughing stock by taking action on
+it, and I am sure that Mr. Hadley agrees with me."
+
+"I--certainly--ah--should not wish to be made a laughing stock," said
+Mr. Hadley, with a reproachful look at Selby.
+
+Selby picked up his hat and made for the door. "You needn't think I'm
+going to drop this," he said with bitter emphasis. He addressed the
+room in general, but his look fell on Henry Underwood.
+
+Hadley and Ralston also rose.
+
+"If he acts on this evidence," said Ralston, addressing Dr. Underwood,
+"you may count on Mr. Hadley and myself to state exactly how it was
+found. We will say good night now, and I hope your foot will be all
+right in a day or two."
+
+"Thank you," said Underwood. "Henry, will you see the gentlemen to the
+door?"
+
+Henry went out with the committee. Incidentally, he did not return to
+the surgery. From his place by the window, Burton saw the men depart.
+Selby, who had left the room some minutes before the others, was the
+last to leave the house. Indeed, the others waited at the gate some
+minutes before he came hurriedly out to join them. Burton wondered if
+he had occupied the time in poking into other rooms in his absurd
+"search."
+
+Leslie had sprung up and gone to her father. She put one arm around
+his neck and lifted his face with a sort of fierce affection.
+
+"Why do you look so depressed, father?" she demanded. "How dare you
+let yourself go down like that?"
+
+He wrinkled his face in one of those queer smiles.
+
+"I know, my dear, that it is the proper and right-minded thing for a
+man with a sprained ankle to go around capering and dancing for joy,
+and I am sorry not to be living up to your just expectations. I'll try
+to improve."
+
+She turned with one of her swift transitions to Burton. "What do you
+think of it?"
+
+"Exactly what I told the committee," he said, and was glad that he
+could say it promptly.
+
+"You can understand now how I feel,--as though a net were drawing
+around me. It is so intangible and yet so horribly real. What can one
+do?"
+
+Instead of answering he asked a question in his turn.
+
+"Why does your brother hate Selby?"
+
+"Wouldn't any one hate him?"
+
+"Well, then, why does Selby hate your brother?"
+
+"I don't know that he does."
+
+"Yes, he does. They hate each other royally, and it is nothing new,
+either."
+
+Underwood groaned, and Leslie promptly patted his shoulder.
+
+"Poor papa, does it hurt?"
+
+"Yes," he sputtered.
+
+Then he pulled himself together and turned again to Burton. "Henry has
+an unfortunate way of provoking antagonism. But all this has no more
+to do with this robbery than it has to do with the spots on the sun.
+Even Selby doesn't accuse Henry of holding him up. I am the target of
+his attacks, thank Heaven."
+
+"Why this pious gratitude?"
+
+"I can stand it better than Henry. Possibly you did not understand
+Selby's slur. It has been the tragedy of Henry's life that he crippled
+Ben Bussey. It was ten years ago that it happened. They had a tussle.
+Ben was the older, but Henry was larger and stronger, and he was in a
+violent temper. He threw Ben in such a way that his spine was
+permanently injured. But the effect on Henry was almost equally
+serious. His hand has been against friend and foe alike. I don't
+consider that he was responsible for what happened here a few years
+later."
+
+"Of course not. He had nothing to do with it," said Leslie. Burton saw
+that she had missed the significance of the doctor's remark,--and he
+was glad she had. As the doctor said, that matter had nothing to do
+with the robbery, and Henry was not implicated in the present trouble.
+He turned to the doctor. "I don't want to force myself upon you in the
+character of a pushing Perseus, but if you have no objections, I
+should like to spend the night in this room."
+
+The doctor looked at him with the countenance of a chess player who is
+looking several moves ahead. "Why?" he asked.
+
+"I have an idea that the person who made such elaborate preparations
+for your committee may be curious to learn how much of his cache was
+unearthed, and, knowing that the committee has been here, may come
+before morning to take a look. I'd like to receive him properly. I
+can't at this moment imagine anything that would give me more
+unalloyed pleasure. As no one knows of my being here, I hope the
+gentleman may not yet have been put upon his guard. It is evident that
+he has been able to get into this room before, and possibly he might
+try again."
+
+"But you won't be comfortable here," protested Leslie.
+
+"I shall be more than comfortable. That couch is disgraceful luxury
+compared with what I am accustomed to when camping. May I stay,
+Doctor?"
+
+Dr. Underwood's grave face relaxed into a sardonic smile.
+
+"The house is yours!"
+
+"Thank you! I was horribly afraid you would refuse. Is this room
+locked at night?"
+
+"No."
+
+"This door opens into a back hall, I noticed. Where does that lead?"
+
+"To the kitchen and back stairs. Also, at the other end, to the side
+door of the house, opening out into the garden and to a path which
+runs down to the side street."
+
+"Is that outside door locked at night?"
+
+"Oh, yes."
+
+"Yet--some one has been able to get into this room without detection.
+That could only have been at night."
+
+"But why should any one wish to?" protested the doctor uncomfortably.
+
+"The heart is deceitful and wicked. Your faith in human nature does
+you honor, but I am afraid it has also got you into trouble. However,
+we'll hope that it may also serve to put an end to the trouble. When
+we find the man who hid these claptrap stage properties in here, we
+will find the man who knows something about the robbery. It seems to
+me a fair guess that he may come back to this room tonight to
+investigate; but in any event there isn't anything else I can do
+tonight, and it will flatter my sense of importance to feel that I am
+trying to do something. Now, if I may, I will assist you to your room,
+and then say good night."
+
+Leslie, who had been waiting beside her father, rose. "I hope you
+won't be too uncomfortable," she said.
+
+"My dear," her father interrupted, "I recognize in Mr. Burton the type
+that would rather be right than comfortable. We are in his hands, and
+we may as well accept the situation gracefully. The couch isn't a bad
+one, Burton. I have frequently spent the night here when I have come
+in late. Yonder door leads to a lavatory. And I hope you may not be
+disturbed."
+
+Burton laughed. He had all the eagerness of the amateur. "I'm hoping
+that I may be! Now if you'll lean on my shoulder and pilot the way,
+I'll take you to your room."
+
+The doctor accepted his assistance with a whimsical recognition of the
+curiousness of the situation. "That I should be putting myself and my
+affairs into your hands in this way is probably strange, but more
+strangely I can't make it seem strange," he said, when Burton left
+him.
+
+When Burton came downstairs, Leslie was waiting for him.
+
+"I want to thank you," she said impulsively.
+
+"I haven't done anything yet."
+
+"But you are going to."
+
+"I am going to try." Then the conscience of the ambassador nudged his
+memory. After all, he was here for another and a specific purpose, and
+it behooved him to remember it. "If I succeed, will you have a
+different answer to send to Philip?" he asked, with a searching look.
+
+She clasped her hands together upon her breast with the self-forgetful
+gesture he had noticed before, and her face was suddenly radiant. "Oh,
+yes, yes!" she cried.
+
+Very curiously, her eagerness made Burton conscious of a sudden
+coolness toward his mission. Of course he ought to rejoice at this
+assurance that she was really fond of Philip and that nothing kept
+them apart but her sensitive pride, and he had sense enough to
+recognize that he was going to be ashamed of his divided feeling when
+he had time to think it over. But in the meantime the divided feeling
+was certainly there, with its curious commentary on our aboriginal
+instincts. He smiled a little grimly at himself, as he answered.
+
+"Thank you! I hope that I may claim that promise from you very soon. I
+shall certainly do my best to have a right to remind you of it. Now I
+am going to say good night and walk ostentatiously away. That is a
+part of the game. You can leave the front door unlocked, and I'll let
+myself in when I think the coast is all clear. The door bolts, I see.
+And I'll find my way to the surgery all right."
+
+"There is always a light in the hall."
+
+"Then it will be plain sailing. Good night. And be sure to keep Mrs.
+Bussey out of the way while I am breaking in."
+
+She laughed, as though he jested. But as he walked back to the hotel
+to make some necessary arrangements for his night's camping, he hoped
+she would not wholly disregard that injunction.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+A MIDNIGHT WATCH
+
+
+Half an hour later Burton returned--most unostentatiously. In fact, he
+made himself think of a beginner in burglary as he hugged the shadowy
+side of the street and sought the shelter of the trees in getting
+across the garden. If one were going to do this sort of thing, one
+might as well do it in proper style. The front door yielded
+noiselessly to his touch, illustrating the advantage of having an
+accomplice within, and he was safely inside. He bolted the door and
+made his way through the dimly lit hall to the surgery. The whole
+entry had occupied less than a minute. He was breathing quickly, but
+it was from excitement. It was years since he had been in any sort of
+an adventure. He felt like a college boy again.
+
+The surgery was sufficiently lit by the diffused light of street-lamp
+and moon to enable him to see his way about. He had brought with him
+the electric pocket lamp which he carried with him when travelling,
+but he did not intend to use it unless necessary. His plan was to keep
+as quiet as possible and wait for the anticipated visitor. If the
+person who had had access to the room to "salt" it were at all curious
+about the result of the committee's visit, he ought, logically, to
+come at the earliest possible moment to investigate. Burton had
+planned to occupy the time by writing to Rachel, and he now pulled an
+armchair into such a position that he could get enough of the thin
+moonlight from the window to see his way across his writing pad, and
+settled himself to the familiar task.
+
+"My adored Rachel," he began, and then he stopped. It wasn't going to
+be the easiest letter in the world to write. He had been less than a
+day in High Ridge, yet already he had got so far away from the Putney
+atmosphere that he was conscious of a jolt in trying to present the
+situation here to Mrs. Overman. Rachel was of course the paragon of
+womankind. He had been a freshman at college when she married Overman,
+and he had accepted in perfect good faith the theory that as a
+consequence he was always to live the life of a Blighted Being. It had
+been the tacit understanding between them ever since, and he was
+hardly conscious that her new widowhood had put any new significance
+into their old relation. For years he had come and gone at her beck
+and call, lived on her smiles and survived her frowns with more or
+less equanimity, all as a bounden knight should do. It had almost
+become a secondary occupation. But as time went on, occasions had
+arisen when his account of facts had to be somewhat tempered for the
+adored Rachel. She was just as adorable as ever, of course, but--she
+didn't understand people who didn't live her kind of a life. Burton
+felt instinctively that the whole Underwood situation would strike her
+the wrong way. She would simply regard it as something that could
+never by any possibility have happened to any one in her class, and
+that would end it. If Philip were going to marry Miss Underwood--and
+Philip was mighty lucky to have the chance--it behooved him to tell
+his story warily so as not to prejudice Rachel against her future
+daughter-in-law. He started in again, with circumspection.
+
+
+"I am writing you by the light of the fair silver moon. Does that
+make you think of the luny,--I mean lunar--epistles I used to write
+you,--the almanac-man alone remembers how many years ago! I wrote by
+moonlight then for romantic reasons,--now for strategical,--but that
+is a subject which can only be continued in my next, so please keep up
+your interest.
+
+"I have seen Miss Underwood, and I wish to assure you in the first
+place that Philip has shown his usual good taste and discrimination by
+falling in love with her. She is a beautiful girl, and more. She has
+charm and sweetness and manner and dignity. I'll report any other
+qualities she may possess as I discover them. I should judge her to be
+somewhat older than Philip, but I am the last man in the world with a
+right to regard that as an obstacle.
+
+"She has as yet given me no final answer in the matter which you
+commissioned me to lay before her, for the following reason:
+
+"Her father, who is a physician, and who impresses me as a very
+original, attractive and honorable man, is at present under a curious
+shadow of popular distrust. There was a highway robbery here a short
+time ago, and the man robbed charges that Dr. Underwood was the
+robber. I am sure there is not the slightest ground for such a charge,
+but the people seem to have taken an attitude of distrust and
+suspicion toward both the doctor and his son, and you can understand
+Miss Underwood's natural feeling that until her father is vindicated
+as publicly as he has been assailed, she will not give any
+encouragement to Philip's suit. I have her word for it (and what is
+more, her radiant look for it), that this is all that keeps her from
+listening at this time. If you will tell Philip this, I am sure it
+will have the effect upon his spirits which we have both so anxiously
+desired. I have not the slightest doubt about the doctor's being
+cleared. He is a most delightful man, and his son--" Burton held his
+pen suspended. Henry did not lend himself to a phrase. There was
+something about him that ran off into the shadowy unknown. He ended
+his sentence lamely,--"is something of a character.
+
+"Of course I shall stay on at High Ridge and bend every energy to
+clearing up this matter without delay. It can hardly prove very
+difficult, though there are some curious and unusual features in the
+case.
+
+"It is unnecessary for me to say that the thought that he is carrying
+out the wishes of his adored Rachel is the chief joy in life of her
+
+"BLIGHTED BEING."
+
+
+It was the way in which he had always signed his letters to her since
+her marriage. He wrote the words now with the cheerful unconsciousness
+of habit, and folded his letter for mailing. Then after a moment he
+rose and walked softly to the window. Putting the curtain aside, he
+stood for some time looking out across the lawn. His window looked not
+toward Rowan, but toward the side street, a hundred and fifty feet
+away. The moon was clear and high, and the black and white of its
+light and shadow made a scene that would have appealed to any lover of
+the picturesque. It would delight a poet or a philosopher he thought,
+and that brought Henry Underwood again to his mind. He was a curious
+man,--a man to give one pause. There was something of the poet and
+something of the philosopher in him, as witness his speeches in the
+garden, but there was something else, also. If the moodiness which was
+so obvious had manifested itself in the tricks that had defied the
+police and scandalized the family, it went near to the line of the
+abnormal. It would seem that the accusation was neither admitted nor
+proved, but the hotel clerk had referred to it, Selby had openly
+charged him with it, and the doctor evidently did not wish the matter
+discussed. Well, it had nothing to do with the present affair,
+unless--unless--Oh, of course it had nothing to do with the present
+affair.
+
+The figure of a man moving with a sort of stealthy swiftness among the
+shadows of the garden caught his eye, and instantly he was alert. The
+man crossed an open patch of moonlight and, with a curious feeling
+that it was what he had expected, Burton recognized Henry Underwood.
+He came directly toward the side of the house where the surgery was,
+and a moment later Burton heard the outer door of the back hall open,
+and footsteps went past his closed door.
+
+Burton pressed his electric light to look at his watch. It was two
+o'clock. He turned back to the window, with a feeling of irritation.
+Henry Underwood might be a poet and a philosopher, but he was also a
+fool, or he would not be wandering at two A.M. through a town that was
+already smouldering with suspicion of the Underwood family. It was, to
+say the least, imprudent. Burton wished he had not seen him. Probably
+his errand was entirely innocent and easily to be explained, but the
+human mind is a fertile field, and a seed of suspicion flourishes like
+the scriptural grain of mustard.
+
+There was a red glow in the sky over the trees of the garden. Burton
+wondered if it could be the morning glow. It was hardly time for that.
+He was speculating upon it idly when his ear caught the sound of
+returning footsteps in the back hall,--though this time they were so
+soft that if he had not been alert for any sound he would hardly have
+noticed them. He drew aside from the window, hid himself in the shadow
+of the long curtain, and waited. Unless the person in the hall entered
+this room, he had no right to question his movements.
+
+The door was opened with noiseless swiftness, and a man stood for an
+instant in the opening. His head was bent forward and he carried a
+light in his hand,--whether small lantern or shaded candle Burton did
+not have time to see, for almost at the instant of opening the door
+the light was quenched. Burton was certain that neither sound nor
+movement had betrayed his own presence, yet after that single moment
+of reconnoitering, the light went out and the door was shut sharply.
+Burton sprang toward it, stumbled over the armchair he had himself
+placed in the way, picked himself up, and reached the door,--only to
+look into the blank blackness of the back hall. There was a faint
+quiver of sound in the air, as though the outer house door had jarred
+with a sudden closing, and he ran down the hall; the door was unlocked
+and yielded at once to his touch. For a moment everything was still;
+then he heard the clatter of feet on a board walk. It was as though
+some one, escaping, had waited to see if he would be pursued and then
+had fled on. Burton ran around to the rear of the house, thankful that
+the moonlight now made his way plain. There was a board walk running
+from the kitchen door to a high wall at the end of the lot, but the
+sound he had heard was momentary, not continuous, so, on the theory
+that the man had crossed the walk, not run down the hundred feet of it
+to the alley, he ran on to the east side of the house. There was no
+one to be seen, of course. Any one familiar with the location could
+have hidden himself in any of a hundred shadows. The lot was filled
+with trees, and one large oak almost rested against the house. It
+reminded him of Henry's remark at dinner about getting down from the
+second story by the oak on the east side, and he glanced up. It looked
+an easy climb--and two of the house windows were lit. On the impulse
+of the moment, he swung himself up into the branches. As he came level
+with the lit windows, Henry Underwood passed one of them, still fully
+dressed. He was so near that Burton was certain for a moment that he
+himself must have been discovered, and he waited a moment in suspense.
+But Henry had passed the window without looking out.
+
+What Burton had expected to discover was perhaps not clear to his own
+mind. If he had analyzed the intuition he followed, he would have said
+that he was acting on the theory that Henry had looked into his room,
+and then, fleeing out of doors to throw him off the scent--by that
+side door to which he obviously carried a key, since he had let
+himself in that way shortly before--had regained his room by this
+schoolboy stairway. The feeling had been strong upon him that he was
+close on the trail of some one fleeing. But if in fact it had been
+Henry, how could he challenge him, here in his own room? Clearly he
+was within his rights here,--a fact that was emphasized when, after a
+minute, he came to the window and pulled the curtain down.
+
+Burton dropped to the ground and retraced his steps around the rear of
+the house. Here he saw that the board walk ran down to a gate,--the
+gate in the rear by which he had seen Mrs. Bussey talking in excited
+fashion to a man, earlier in the day. The gate opened at Burton's
+touch and he looked out into an empty alley. It was so obvious that
+this would have been the natural and easy way of escape that he could
+only blame himself for folly in chasing an uncertain sound of
+footsteps past the gate around to the east of the house.
+
+He found his way back to the surgery a good deal humiliated. The
+mysterious intruder had been almost within reach of his arm, and had
+got away without leaving a trace, and all that was gained was that
+hereafter he would be more alert than ever, knowing himself watched.
+It was not a very creditable beginning. Burton threw himself down on
+the couch, and his annoyance did not prevent his dropping, after a
+time, into a sound sleep.
+
+Therefore he did not see how that red glow on the sky above the trees
+deepened and made a bright hole in the night, long before the morning
+came to banish the darkness legitimately.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+THE WORK OF THE INCENDIARY
+
+
+Burton awoke from his short and uneasy sleep with a sudden start and
+the feeling that some one had been near him. The room was, however,
+empty and gray in the early morning light. As full recollection of the
+events that had passed came back to his mind, an ugly thought pressed
+to the front. Was it Henry who was persecuting the doctor? Or, rather,
+was there a possibility that it was not Henry? It certainly was Henry
+who had been abroad at two in the night,--that was indisputable.
+Burton had seen him too clearly to be in doubt. Was it not straining
+incredulity to doubt that it was Henry who had tried to enter his room
+a few minutes later? If it had been a stranger, would Henry not have
+been aroused by the opening and shutting of the outside door? It was
+not a pleasant idea that Miss Underwood's brother was the culprit in
+the case, but it appeared that he had already laid himself open to
+suspicion in connection with the series of petty annoyances which his
+sister had narrated. The local police might not be expert detectives,
+but they must have average intelligence and experience. And that Henry
+was moved by a sort of dumb antagonism toward his father was quite
+obvious.
+
+Burton jumped up from the couch, where he had been revolving the
+situation, and a scrap of paper, dislodged from his clothing, fell to
+the floor. He picked it up and read:
+
+
+"Spy!
+
+"Go back, spy, or you'll be sorry."
+
+
+In spite of nerves that were ordinarily steady enough, Burton felt a
+thrill of something like dismay. An unfriendly presence had bent over
+him while he slept, left this message of sinister import, and vanished
+as he had vanished into the night when pursued. The thought that he
+had lain helpless under the scrutiny of this soft-footed, invisible
+enemy was more disturbing than the threat itself. It gave him a
+sensation of repulsion that made him understand Miss Underwood's
+feeling. The situation was not merely bizarre. It was intolerable.
+
+He examined the slip of paper carefully. It was long and narrow and
+soft,--such a strip as might have been torn from the margin of a
+newspaper. The writing was with a very soft, blunt pencil. A pencil
+such as he had seen carpenters use in marking boards might have made
+those heavy lines. The hand was obviously disguised and not very
+skilfully, for while occasional strokes were laboriously unsteady,
+others were rapid and firm.
+
+He folded the paper and put it carefully away in his pocketbook. If
+this were Henry's work, he undoubtedly was also the author of the
+anonymous typewritten notices which had been circulated in the town.
+Why was the message written this time instead of typewritten? A
+typewriter in the corner of the room caught his eye, as though it were
+itself the answer to his question. With a swift suspicion in his mind,
+he sat down before it and wrote a few lines. Upon comparing these with
+the typewritten slip which the doctor had shown him the evening
+before, and which still lay on the mantel, it was perfectly clear that
+they had both been produced by the same machine. Some one who had easy
+and unquestioned access to this room used the doctor's typewriter to
+tick off insinuations against its owner! It seemed like substantial
+proof of Henry's guilt. Who else could use this room without exciting
+comment? The audacity of the scheme was hardly more surprising than
+its simple-mindedness. Burton crushed his sheet in his hand and tossed
+it into the wastepaper basket with a feeling of contempt.
+
+While he made a camp toilet he wondered why he had let himself in for
+all this. He had acted on a foolish impulse. There were roily depths
+in the matter which it would probably be better not to stir up, and it
+must now be his immediate care to get out of the whole connection as
+soon as possible. He had no desire to play detective against Miss
+Underwood's brother. Thank heaven that her acceptance of his tender
+for Philip had been so conditioned! He would withdraw while the matter
+was still nebulous.
+
+There came a tap at the door and Mrs. Bussey entered.
+
+"Breakfast's ready," she announced. Then she waited a moment and added
+in a shamefaced undertone that betrayed the unfamiliarity of the
+message, "Miss Underwood's compliments!" and vanished in obvious
+embarrassment.
+
+Burton had to laugh at that, and with more cheerfulness than he would
+have thought possible he found his way to the breakfast room. Miss
+Underwood herself smiled a welcome at him from the head of the table.
+
+"You are to breakfast tête-à-tête with me," she said, answering his
+unconscious look of inquiry. "Mother always breakfasts in her room,
+and poor father will have to do the same this morning. Henry has been
+gardening for hours. So you have only myself left!"
+
+"I can imagine worse fates," said Burton. And then, with a curiosity
+about Henry which was none the less keen because he did not intend to
+make it public, he asked: "Is your brother an enthusiastic gardener?"
+
+"It is the only thing he cares about, but it would be stretching the
+word to call him enthusiastic, I'm afraid. Poor Henry!"
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I mean because of Ben Bussey."
+
+"Oh, yes."
+
+"It has made him so moody and strange. You see, he has had Ben before
+him all his life as an object lesson on the effects of temper, and
+mother has rather pointed the moral. She thinks that all troubles are
+the punishment of some wrongdoing, and she has had a good deal of
+influence with Henry always. It has made him resentful toward every
+one."
+
+"It's unfortunate. Wouldn't it be better to send Ben away?"
+
+"Father hoped to cure him, so he kept him here. Besides, he couldn't
+afford to keep him anywhere else, I'm afraid. It would be expensive to
+send him to a hospital,--and father can do everything for him that any
+one could. No one realizes as I do how father has worried over the
+whole unhappy situation. He has tried everything for Ben,--even to
+electricity. And that made trouble, too!"
+
+"Why? Did Ben object?"
+
+"No, but his mother did. I think the popular prejudice against father
+on all sides is largely the effect of Mrs. Bussey's talking. She is an
+ignorant woman, as you can see."
+
+"What is Ben's attitude? Is he resentful?"
+
+"Not at all. He is a quiet, sensible fellow, who takes things
+philosophically. He knows it was all an accident, of course. And he
+knows that father has done everything possible, besides taking on
+himself the support of both Ben and his mother for life."
+
+"That is more than mere justice."
+
+"Oh, father is like that! Besides, they would be helpless. Ben's
+father was a roving character who lived for years among the Indians.
+He hasn't been heard of for years, and no one knows whether he is dead
+or alive. He had practically deserted them years before Ben's
+accident. So father felt responsible for them, because of Henry."
+
+"I see," said Burton thoughtfully.
+
+Just then the door was thrown suddenly open, and Mrs. Bussey popped
+in, her face curiously distorted with excitement.
+
+"The Spriggs' house is burnt!" she exclaimed, with obvious enjoyment
+in chronicling great news.
+
+"How do you know?" demanded Leslie.
+
+"Milkman told me. Burnt to the ground."
+
+"Was any one hurt?"
+
+"No," she admitted regretfully. Then she cheered up, and added: "But
+the house was burnt to the ground! Started at two o'clock in the
+night, and they had ter get outer the winder to save their lives. Not
+a rag of clothes to their backs. Jest smoking ashes now."
+
+"I must go and see them immediately after breakfast," said Leslie.
+And, by way of dismissal, she added: "Please bring some hot toast
+now."
+
+As soon as Mrs. Bussey was out of the room she turned to Burton.
+
+"That is the family whose children threw stones at father yesterday.
+I'm awfully sorry this happened."
+
+"Yes?"
+
+"Because--oh, you can't imagine how people talk!--some one is sure to
+say that it happened because they stoned him."
+
+"Oh, how absurd! Who would say that?"
+
+She shook her head with a hopeless gesture. "You don't realize how
+eager people are to believe evil. It is like the stories of the wolves
+who devour their companions when they fall. They can't prove anything,
+but they are all the more ready to talk as though they thought it
+might be true. But at any rate, they can't claim that he set fire to
+the Sprigg house since he can't walk. Oh dear, I'm glad he sprained
+his ankle yesterday!"
+
+"Filial daughter!" said Burton lightly. But his mind was busy with
+what he had seen in the night. Where had Henry been when he came back
+from town at two o'clock in the night? It would be fortunate if
+popular suspicion did indeed fall upon the doctor in this case, since
+he could more easily prove an alibi than some other members of his
+family.
+
+"You will see father before you leave, will you not?" asked Leslie,
+after a moment.
+
+"Yes. And if you really think it wise to visit the scene of disaster
+this morning, will you not permit me to accompany you?"
+
+"Wise!" she said, with a look of wonder and a cheerless little laugh.
+"My family is not conspicuous for its wisdom. But I shall be very glad
+to have you go with me. I am going immediately. Will you see my father
+first?"
+
+"Yes," he said, rising.
+
+Dr. Underwood had already heard the news. He was up and nearly dressed
+when he answered Burton's knock at his door.
+
+"So you think you're all right again," the latter said.
+
+"It doesn't make any difference whether I am all right or not," the
+doctor said impetuously. "I've got to get out. You've heard about the
+fire?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I would have given my right hand to prevent it."
+
+"You weren't given the choice," said Burton coolly, "so your hand is
+saved to you and you will probably find use for it. What's more, you
+are going back to bed, and you will stay there until I give you leave
+to get up."
+
+"The devil I am! What for?"
+
+"Because you can't walk a step on account of your sprained ankle."
+
+Underwood turned to look at him in amaze.
+
+"Oh, can't I?"
+
+"Not a step."
+
+"Suppose I don't agree with you?"
+
+"If my orders are not obeyed, of course I shall throw up the case."
+
+Underwood sat down on the edge of the bed. "So you think it's as bad
+as that!" he muttered. Suddenly he lifted his head with a keen look at
+Burton, but if a question were on his lips he checked it there. "All
+right," he said wearily. "I--I'll leave the case in your hands,
+Doctor. By the way, you didn't have any reward for your vigil last
+night, did you? There was no attempt to enter the surgery?"
+
+"Oh, an amateur can't always expect to bag his game at the first
+shot," Burton said lightly.
+
+He found Miss Underwood ready and waiting when he came downstairs,
+and they set out at once for the scene of the fire. She looked so
+thoughtful and preoccupied that he could not fail to realize how
+serious this affair must seem to her. Could it be that she entertained
+any of his own uncomfortable doubts as to the accidental character of
+the fire?
+
+"I am consumed with wonder as to why you are going to visit the
+Spriggs," he said, as they went out into the shaded street. "Is it
+pure humanitarianism?"
+
+"No," she said slowly. "I am worried. Of course they can't connect
+father with it, and yet--I am worried."
+
+"And so you want to be on the field of battle?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, that's gallant, at any rate."
+
+"But not wise?" she asked seriously.
+
+"I withdraw that word. It is always wise to meet things with courage."
+
+She walked on in silence a few moments.
+
+"But they can't connect father with this, can they?" she asked
+earnestly.
+
+"Of course not," he said,--and wished they need prepare to face no
+more serious attack than one on the doctor.
+
+There was a small crowd about the smoking ruins of what had been a
+sprawling frame dwelling-house. A couple of firemen were still on the
+grounds, and uncounted boys were shouting with excitement and running
+about with superfluous activity. The nucleus of the crowd seemed to be
+an excited and crying woman, and Miss Underwood pressed toward this
+point. A large man, pompous even at this early morning hour, whose
+back was toward them as they approached, was talking.
+
+"I have no doubt you are right, ma'am. I heard him say myself that
+fire would come down and burn them because they threw stones at him.
+It is an outrage that such a man should be loose in the community. We
+are none of us safe in our beds."
+
+It was Hadley. Some exclamation made him turn at that moment and he
+saw Leslie Underwood, and suddenly fell silent. But the woman to whom
+he had been talking did not fall silent. Instead, she rushed up to
+Leslie and screamed at her, between angry sobs:
+
+"Yes, you'd better come and look at your father's work. I wonder that
+you dare show your face! Burnt in our beds we might have been and
+that's what he meant, and all because the boys threw some bits of
+stones playful-like at his old buggy. Every one of us might have been
+burnt to death, and where are our things and our clothes and our home,
+and where are we going to live? Burnt up by that wicked old man, and I
+wonder you will show your face in the street!"
+
+Miss Underwood shrank back, speechless and dismayed, before the
+furious woman, and Burton put himself before her.
+
+"Mrs. Sprigg, your misfortune will make Miss Underwood overlook your
+words, but nothing will justify or excuse them. You have suffered a
+loss and we are all sorry for you, and Miss Underwood came here for
+the express purpose of offering to help you if there is anything she
+can do. But you must not slander an innocent man. And as for the rest
+of you," he added, turning with blazing anger to the crowd as a whole,
+"you must remember that such remarks as I heard when I came up will
+make you liable to an action for defamation of character. The law does
+not permit you to charge a man with arson without any ground for doing
+so."
+
+"If Dr. Underwood didn't do it, who did? Tell me that," a man in the
+crowd called out.
+
+"I don't have to tell you. That's nonsense. Probably it caught from
+the chimney."
+
+"The chief says it's incendiary all right. Started in a bedroom on the
+second floor, in a pile of clothes near a window."
+
+"Even if it were incendiary,--though I don't believe it was--that has
+nothing to do with Dr. Underwood. He's laid up with a sprained ankle
+and can't walk a step, let alone climb up to a second story window."
+
+"Well, Henry Underwood hasn't sprained an ankle, has he?" This came
+from Selby, whom Burton had not noticed before. He thrust himself
+forward now, and there was something almost like triumph in his
+excited face.
+
+"What do you mean by bringing his name in?" Burton asked sternly.
+
+"It looks like his work all right. More than one fire has been started
+by him in High Ridge before this. There are people who haven't
+forgotten his tricks here six years ago, writing letters about his
+father, and burning clothes and keeping the whole place stirred up.
+I'm not surprised he has come to this."
+
+"He ought to be hung for this, that's what he ought," burst in Mrs.
+Sprigg. "Burning people's houses over their heads, in the dead of
+night! Hanging's too good for him."
+
+"You have not an atom of evidence to go on," cried Burton, exasperated
+into argument. "You might just as well accuse me, or Mr. Selby, or any
+one else. Henry Underwood has no ill-will against you,--"
+
+"The doctor said that fire would come and burn the children up; Mr.
+Hadley heard him."
+
+"That was nonsense. I heard what he said, too. He was just joking.
+Besides, that was the doctor, it wasn't Henry."
+
+"If the doctor had a wanted to a done it, he could," said an old man,
+judicially. "He knows too much for his own good, he does, and too much
+for the good of the people that go agin him. 'Tain't safe to go agin
+him. He can make you lay on your back all your life, like he done with
+Ben Bussey. He'd a been well long afore this if the doctor had treated
+him right."
+
+"Come away from this," said Burton in a low voice to Leslie. "You see
+you can do no good. There is no reason why you should endure this."
+
+She let him guide her through the crowd, but as they turned away,
+Selby called to Burton:
+
+"You say we haven't any evidence. I'm going to get it. There is no one
+in High Ridge but Henry Underwood who would do such a trick, and I am
+going to prove it against him. We've stood this just long enough."
+
+Burton made no answer. He was now chiefly anxious to hurry Leslie from
+an unpleasant scene. But again they were interrupted. Mr. Hadley came
+puffing after them, with every sign of anxiety in his face.
+
+"Say, Miss Leslie," he began breathlessly, "I didn't mean what I said
+about not being safe in our beds. You won't mention that to your
+father, will you? I don't want to get him set against me. I'm sure he
+wouldn't harm me for the world. I know I'm perfectly safe in my bed,
+Miss Leslie."
+
+She swept him with a withering look of scorn, and hurried on without a
+word.
+
+"You see," she said to Burton.
+
+"Yes, I see. It is simply intolerable."
+
+"How can they believe it?"
+
+"I think your father should know what is being said. May I go home
+with you, and report the affair to him?"
+
+"I shall be thankful if you will."
+
+"You really mean that, don't you? Of course I know that I am nearly a
+stranger and that I may seem to be pressing into purely family
+matters. But apart from my interest in anything that concerns Philip,
+I shall be glad on my own account if I can be of any help to you in a
+distressing situation."
+
+"Thank you," she said gravely. And after a moment she added, with a
+whimsical air that was like her father's: "It would hardly be worth
+while for us to pretend to be strangers, after turning our
+skeleton-closet into a guest-chamber for you. You know all about us!"
+
+Burton wasn't so sure of that. And he was even less assured after his
+half-hour conversation with the doctor, whom he found dressed, but
+certainly not wholly in his right mind.
+
+"I have come to report the progress of the plot," said Burton. "I am
+glad to inform you that you are not suspected of having fired the
+Sprigg house with your own hand. Your sprained ankle served you well
+in that emergency. But your son Henry had no sprained ankle to protect
+him, so they have quite concluded that it was his doing."
+
+Dr. Underwood looked at him thoughtfully, with no change of expression
+to indicate that the news was news to him.
+
+"Was the fire incendiary?" he asked after a moment.
+
+"So they assert."
+
+The doctor closed his eyes with his finger-tips and sat silent for a
+moment.
+
+"Was there any talk of--arrest?"
+
+"There was wild talk, but of course there was nothing to justify an
+arrest,--no evidence."
+
+"There never is," said the doctor. "This disturber of our peace is
+very skilful. He swoops down out of the dark, with an accompaniment of
+mystery and malice, and leaves us blinking, and that's all the
+satisfaction we get out of it. And the anonymous letters he scatters
+about are always typewritten."
+
+"Not always," said Burton, resolving swiftly to throw the game into
+the doctor's hands. He laid before him the slip of paper that had been
+served upon himself in the night. "You don't, by any chance, recognize
+that handwriting?"
+
+The doctor took the slip into his own hands and read the message
+gravely.
+
+"Where did you get this?"
+
+Burton told him the night's adventures in outline, mentioning casually
+Henry's return to the house at two, and the subsequent attempt of some
+one to enter his room, and his ineffectual pursuit.
+
+Dr. Underwood listened with a more impassive face than was altogether
+natural. At the end of the recital he picked up the slip of paper
+again and studied it.
+
+"I think one of those handwriting experts who analyze forgeries and
+that sort of thing would say that this was my handwriting, somewhat
+disguised," he said.
+
+"Yours!" Burton exclaimed, taken by surprise.
+
+"That's what struck me at first sight,--its familiarity. It is like
+seeing your own ghost. Of course it is obviously disguised, but some
+of the words look like my writing. You see how I am putting myself
+into your hands by this admission."
+
+Burton fancied he saw something else, also, and the pathetic heroism
+of it made his heart swell with sudden emotion.
+
+"A clue!" he cried gaily. "You did it in your sleep! And you wrote
+those typewritten letters and handbills on the typewriter in your
+surgery, when you were in the same somnambulic condition! I examined
+the work of that machine this morning. It corresponds so closely with
+the sheet you showed me last night that I have no doubt an expert
+would be able to work out a proof of identity."
+
+"I'll see that the room is locked hereafter at night," said the
+doctor, with an effort.
+
+"You'd be more likely to catch the villain by leaving the door
+unlocked and keeping a watch," said Burton, lightly assuming that the
+capture of the miscreant was still their joint object. "And I'll leave
+you this new manuscript to add to your collection. It is of no value
+to me."
+
+'And he presented the incriminating paper to the doctor with a smile
+and took his leave. To himself, he hoped that enough had been said to
+make the doctor realize that if the disturber of the peace of High
+Ridge was not to be caught, it would be best to--get him away.
+
+As he walked toward the hotel, he let himself face the situation
+frankly. If Henry was, as a matter of fact, the criminal, his firing
+of the Sprigg house was probably less from malice toward the Spriggs
+than from the conviction that it would be attributed to the agency of
+the doctor, whose rash speech about calling down fire on his
+persecutors had fitted so neatly into the outcome. Like the freakish
+pranks of which Miss Underwood had told, it was designed to hold the
+doctor up to public reprobation. Only this was much more serious than
+those earlier pranks. If a man would go so far as to imperil the lives
+of an entire family to feed fat his grudge against some one else, and
+that one his own father, it argued a dangerous degree of abnormality.
+Was it possible that Leslie Underwood's brother was criminally insane?
+Suddenly Rachel Overman's face rose before him. He saw just how she
+would look if such a question were raised about a member of the family
+from which Philip had chosen his wife.
+
+"Oh, good Lord!" Burton muttered to himself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+THE BABY THAT WAS TIED IN
+
+
+It was nearing noon when Burton left Dr. Underwood's. He took the
+street that ran by the Sprigg house, though it led him somewhat out of
+the most direct road to the hotel. He wanted to get the temper of the
+crowd and the gossip of the street. But the crowd had dispersed. He
+saw one man near the blackened wall of the house where the fire was
+supposed to have started. He was bending down, as though examining the
+ground. Then he rose and went away,--somewhat hurriedly and furtively,
+Burton thought. It was, indeed, this skulking quality in the man's
+hasty departure that made Burton look at him a second time. It was
+Selby. So! He was apparently hunting for the "proof" that he had
+promised. But why should he be so secretive about it?
+
+As he came around by the other side of the burned house, he saw that
+two boys were still lingering on the scene of the morning's
+excitement. They were talking vigorously, and when Burton stopped by
+the fence and looked in, one of the boys, recognizing a kindred
+interest in the drama of life, called to him:
+
+"Did yer see the bush where the kid was found?"
+
+"What kid?" asked Burton.
+
+"The Sprigg baby. He was right in here among the lilac bushes and the
+soft little shoots had been tied together around him, so's he couldn't
+get away, like Moses an' the bulrushes. Right in here. Yer can see the
+place now."
+
+Burton jumped the fence and went up to the place where the boys were.
+
+"Was the baby lost?" he asked.
+
+"Mrs. Sprigg thought it was all burned up, because she forgot it when
+she came down in a hurry, and she was carrying on just awful, and then
+the firemen found the baby in here among the bushes, and they most
+stepped on it before they saw it."
+
+"Had it crawled in by itself?"
+
+"Naw, it was tied in! See here. You can see the knots yet, only most
+of them have been pulled to pieces."
+
+"Who tied it in?" pressed Burton, bending down to examine the knots.
+They certainly were peculiar. The lithe lilac twigs had been drawn
+together by a cord that ran in and out among them till they were
+twisted and woven together as though they were part of a basket. It
+was the knot of an experienced and skilful weaver.
+
+"Mrs. Sprigg she says at Henry Underwood would be too durn mean to
+look out for the kid and she thinks it was sperrets. But if it was
+sperrets they could a took the baby clear over to some house, couldn't
+they? The branches was tied together so's they had to cut some of them
+to get the kid out. See, you can see here where they cut 'em."
+
+Burton found that the theory advanced by the boys that the incendiary
+who had fired the house had also, in dramatic fashion, saved the life
+of the youngest of the Sprigg brood, by carrying the infant down from
+the second floor, and knotting the lilac shoots about it so that it
+could not crawl into danger, was the most popular byproduct of the
+fire. The story was in every one's mouth.
+
+When he entered the dining-room at the hotel, he encountered Ralston.
+
+"Hello!" said the newspaper man. "I saw that you were registered here.
+Allow me to welcome you to the only home a bachelor like myself owns.
+Won't you sit at my table, to give the fiction some verisimilitude?"
+
+"Thank you. I shall be glad to."
+
+"You will suspect that my whole-hearted hospitality has some
+professional sub-stratum if I ask you at once how our friends the
+Underwoods are, but I'll have to risk that. I assume that you have
+seen them today."
+
+"Yes, I have seen the doctor and Miss Underwood. They have met the
+amazing charge against Henry with dignity and patience. I didn't see
+Henry, and don't know what he may have to say."
+
+"He'd better say nothing," said Ralston tersely. "It isn't a matter
+that is bettered by talk."
+
+"Do you think there will be anything more than talk? I have as yet
+heard no suggestion of the slightest evidence against him."
+
+"No, so far it is merely his bad reputation and the doctor's threat of
+yesterday. Have you happened to hear of the lively times Henry gave
+the town some six years ago? Property was burnt, things were stolen,
+people were terrorized in all sorts of ways for an entire summer. He
+must have had a glorious time."
+
+"Was it proved against him?" asked Burton.
+
+"The police never actually caught him, but they came so close upon his
+tracks several times that they warned the doctor that they had
+evidence against him. Then the disturbances stopped. That was
+significant."
+
+"I heard something about it, but I understood that the attacks were
+mostly directed against the Underwoods themselves, and that the
+anonymous letters written by the miscreant were particularly directed
+against Henry. You don't suspect him of accusing himself!"
+
+"But that's what he did. In fact, that was what first set the police
+to watching him. Perhaps you haven't happened to hear of such things,
+but there is a morbid form of egotism that makes people accuse
+themselves of crimes just for the sake of the notoriety. The
+handwriting of those letters was disguised, but the police were
+satisfied that Henry wrote them. They watched him for weeks, and
+though, as I say, they never caught him at anything really
+incriminating, they came so close on his trail several times that he
+evidently got scared and quit. Watson, the chief of police here, told
+me about it afterwards, and he is not sensational. Quite the
+contrary."
+
+"How old was Henry at that time?"
+
+"About nineteen."
+
+"No wonder that he has grown into a morose man," said Burton
+thoughtfully. "It would be hard for any one to keep sweet-tempered
+against the pressure of such a public opinion."
+
+Ralston shrugged his shoulders. "Public opinion is a brute beast, I
+admit, but still Henry has teased it more than was prudent. However,
+he has his picturesque sides. Did you hear about the rescue of the
+Sprigg baby?"
+
+"Being knotted in among the lilac bushes for safe keeping? Yes, I have
+even seen the bushes."
+
+"He probably knew that the others would be able to escape and so
+looked after the only helpless one,--which seems to have been more
+than the baby's mother did. That should count in his favor with a
+jury."
+
+"Well, they certainly can't bring him to trial unless they get more
+evidence against him than they have at present," said Burton.
+
+Ralston's reply was interrupted by a telephone call. He went to the
+office to answer it, and when he returned his face was grave.
+
+"It looks as though they really had got something like direct evidence
+at last," he said. "They have found Henry Underwood's knife under the
+window where the incendiary must have got in."
+
+"Who found it?"
+
+"A couple of schoolboys. They turned it over to the police. One of my
+men has just got the story."
+
+"Is it beyond question that it is Henry's?"
+
+"Selby has identified it as the same knife that Henry had last night
+when we were there. He was in the neighborhood, it seems, and
+recognized the knife which the boys showed him on finding it. You
+remember that Selby had Henry's knife in his hands last night, and
+broke the point of the blade."
+
+"Yes, I remember," said Burton. He was also recalling something
+else,--a skulking figure slipping away from the spot where the knife
+was found a very little later. "Doesn't it seem curious that the knife
+was only discovered now, considering how many people have been back
+and forth over the place all forenoon?"
+
+"The knife seems to have been trodden into the earth by the crowd.
+That's how it was not found sooner."
+
+"It seems to be a case of Carthage must be destroyed," said Burton,
+with some impatience. "Selby vowed this morning that he would find
+evidence against Henry. He conveniently is at hand to identify a knife
+as Henry's which he had in his own hands last night. It wouldn't
+require very much imagination to see a connection there. Selby hates
+Henry. Selby uses Henry's knife, and in the passion of the moment
+slips it forgetfully into his own pocket. Then at the right time he
+loses it at a place where its discovery will seem to implicate Henry
+in a crime--"
+
+"Sh!" warned Ralston, with a look of comic dismay.
+
+But the warning came too late. Burton, startled, looked up in some
+anxiety, and found Selby just back of him, glaring at him with a look
+that was like a blow from a bludgeon. There was nothing less than
+murder in his eye. But instead of speaking, he turned on his heel as
+Burton half rose, and walked out of the room.
+
+"I had no idea there was any one within earshot," said Burton, with
+dismay in his face.
+
+"He just came in by that door back of you. I had no time to warn you."
+
+"I'm a poor conspirator. Must I hunt Mr. Selby up, and apologize for
+the liveliness of my imagination?"
+
+Ralston looked grave. "You must do as you please, but I'd let the
+cards lie as they fell. Selby has a violent temper,--"
+
+"He certainly looked murderous."
+
+"I can't understand why he walked off without saying anything. I
+should have expected him to do something violent. I saw him beat a
+horse nearly to death once because he was in a rage,--"
+
+"That settles it. I shall not apologize. I'm glad he heard me."
+
+Ralston laughed. "I'm glad you came to High Ridge! Do stay. We may be
+able to afford you some entertainment. You should hear Hadley! He is
+terrified to death for fear something will happen to him next because
+he rashly made the remark that we are not safe in our beds so long as
+the Underwoods are loose."
+
+"What does he expect to happen?"
+
+"Goodness knows!" Then, with a mischievous look, he added: "Henry
+Underwood's methods are always original! It will probably be a
+surprise."
+
+
+Burton once more, to speak figuratively, threw his time-table into the
+waste-basket. He certainly could not leave High Ridge while things
+were in this chaotic condition. He must at least wait until something
+definite happened.
+
+He did not have long to wait.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+A POINTED WARNING
+
+
+Burton did not know exactly what he expected to happen, or what he
+would gain by staying, but something more than a sense of his
+responsibility to Rachel made him want to see the thing through. That
+suspicion should have buzzed so long about Henry Underwood and nothing
+yet be proved could only be due to a combination of luck and
+circumstances which could not be expected to continue indefinitely.
+With Selby hot on the trail, the police were likely to have some
+effective assistance. Malevolence is a great sharpener of the wits.
+
+Wouldn't it be possible to get Henry out of town? Had he gone far
+enough in his hint to the doctor? Possibly if he saw Henry alone he
+could convey a warning that would be understood. He determined to see
+Henry.
+
+But Henry was not at home. His disappointment in this information
+might have been greater if it had not been conveyed by Miss Underwood.
+He found it very easy to extend his inquiry into a call, and when he
+finally rose to take his leave he was surprised to find how time had
+flown. Philip was justified. The only thing to wonder at was Philip's
+discrimination. He must have been caught merely by her beauty, but
+even to appreciate her beauty at its right value was more than he had
+given Philip credit for. But what was the outcome to be? If the family
+were involved in a scandal, Philip was not the man to stand by her. He
+would be dominated by Rachel's prejudices, and Rachel would think the
+whole thing simply unspeakable. Yet things had gone so far that it
+would be impossible for Philip to withdraw without humiliating the
+girl,--and that, Burton now saw clearly, was the one impossible thing.
+No, the only way out was to stop the scandal from going further. Henry
+must be suppressed.
+
+He had been revolving these thoughts as he walked the streets back to
+the hotel, when all at once his eye was caught by the sign:
+
+
+ORTON SELBY
+CONTRACTOR AND BUILDER
+
+
+It swung above the door of a prosperous looking place, and he looked
+at the premises with interest. So this was where Mr. Selby did
+business! As he looked, Mrs. Bussey came out of the office door, and
+scuttled off down the street like a frightened animal finding itself
+out of bounds. Possibly she was bringing some of her crippled son's
+carving to his employer. The connection was obvious and the relation
+was well understood, but somehow he did not like the idea of an inmate
+of the Underwood house having this side relation with a man who was an
+enemy. If anything were to be done to save Henry, it must be done
+skilfully and promptly. The atmosphere of the place was not favorable.
+
+"There's a letter for you," the clerk said, as he handed Burton his
+key.
+
+Burton took it with some wonder. He was not expecting mail here. But
+this letter had never gone through the mails. It was unstamped. The
+envelope was addressed in a heavy blunt penciling that he had seen
+before.
+
+"Who left this?" he asked.
+
+"I found it on the desk. I didn't see who left it there," the clerk
+said.
+
+Burton did not open it until he reached his room. Then his premonition
+was confirmed. The scrap of paper was covered with the same
+heavy-lined writing that had been on the warning paper he had found in
+the morning. The message read:
+
+
+"You have had one warning. This is the second. The third will be the
+last. You may as well understand that your help is not wanted."
+
+
+And the clerk did not know how it came on his desk! There seemed to be
+a very conspiracy of stupidity and malice in the place. He examined it
+carefully. It was addressed to him by his full name,--and his circle
+of acquaintances in High Ridge was extremely limited! Henry had not
+been at home when he called there. The letter had been left by some
+one who could come into the hotel and go out without exciting
+comment,--then clearly a familiar figure in the town. Burton's lips
+curled cynically. And the meaning of the message was quite plain! His
+"help" was not wanted. Whom was he trying to help, except the
+Underwoods?
+
+He put the letter, envelope and all, into a large envelope which he
+sealed and directed to himself. He did not wish to destroy it just
+yet, neither did he wish to leave it where it would fall under another
+eye.
+
+He dined in the public dining-room, without seeing either Ralston or
+Selby, and, being in no mood to cultivate new acquaintances, returned
+at once to his own room. He lit a cigar and got a book from his bag
+and settled down to read himself into quietness; but his mind would
+not free itself from the curious situation in which he found himself,
+and presently he tossed the book aside and went to the table where he
+had left the sealed letter addressed to himself. _It was gone_. It had
+been abstracted from his locked room while he was down at dinner.
+
+Suddenly, as he stood there thinking, there was a sharp "ping," and a
+pane of his window crashed into splinters and fell into the room. A
+thud near his head caused him to turn, and there in the wall was a
+small hole where a bullet had buried itself in the plaster. The third
+warning!
+
+Burton went down the stairs two steps at a time and out into the
+street. The hotel was on the main street, and Burton's room on the
+second floor looked toward the front. Across the street from the hotel
+was a small park, full of trees and shadows. It was clear that the
+shot through his front window had come from the direction of this
+park, and also that it would be futile to try to discover any one who
+might have been in hiding there. There were a hundred avenues of
+unseen escape. It was already dark enough to make the streets obscure.
+
+Burton went in and reported the shooting to the clerk. Of the missing
+letter he said nothing.
+
+"Some boys must have been fooling around in the park with a gun," said
+the clerk, after viewing the scene of the disaster. "They might have
+hit you, the idiots. I'll bet they are scared stiff by now,--and serve
+them right."
+
+"I wish you'd give me another room," said Burton abruptly.
+
+"Why? You don't think they'll try to pot you again, do you?" smiled
+the clerk.
+
+"I prefer to take another room," said Burton stiffly.
+
+"Oh, very well. The adjoining room is vacant, if that will suit you."
+
+"Yes. You may have my things moved in. Or, hold on. I'll move them in
+now, with your assistance, and you needn't say anything about the
+change downstairs."
+
+The clerk took some pains to make it evident that he was suppressing a
+smile, but Burton did not particularly care what opinion the young man
+might form of his courage. He had other things in view.
+
+His new room looked toward the side of the hotel. A driveway ran below
+his windows, separating the hotel from a large private house
+adjoining. Burton took a careful survey of his location, and when he
+settled down again to read, he was careful to select a position which
+was not in range with the windows.
+
+He was beginning to take the High Ridge mystery seriously.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+MR. HADLEY PROVES A TRUE PROPHET
+
+
+Burton had reason to congratulate himself on having formed a clear
+idea of the location of his new room, for he had occasion to use that
+knowledge in a hurry.
+
+He had dropped into an early and heavy sleep, to make up for his
+wakeful adventures of the night before, when he was awakened by a
+succession of screams that seemed to fill the room with vibrating
+terror. He was on his feet and into his clothes in less time than it
+would have taken the average man to wake up. While he was dressing
+another shriek showed that the sounds came from the adjoining house
+which he had noticed across the driveway. He dropped at once from his
+window to the roof of a bay window below and thence to the ground. It
+was a woman shrieking. That was all he knew. He stumbled across the
+driveway, and found his way to the front door of the house. It was
+locked. Even while he was trying it, a man from the street dashed up
+the steps and ran along the porch to a side window, which he threw up.
+
+"Lucky you thought of that," cried Burton, running to the spot. On the
+instant he recognized Henry Underwood.
+
+"For heaven's sake, if there is trouble here, keep away," he said
+impetuously, forgetting everything except that this was Leslie's
+brother.
+
+But Henry had jumped in through the open window without answering, and
+naturally Burton followed. Together they sprang up the stairway, their
+way made plain by the low-turned light in the upper hall. At the top a
+girl stood, screaming in the mechanical, terrified way that he had
+heard. At the sight of Henry, who was ahead, she shrieked and cowered.
+
+"What is the matter?" Burton demanded. And when she did not answer
+immediately, he added impatiently: "Tell me at once what frightened
+you."
+
+She pointed to an open bedroom door, and Burton sprang toward it. It
+was a curious sight that met his eye.
+
+In a large old-fashioned four-poster a man was lying, gagged and
+bound,--and not only bound, but trussed and wound about with heavy
+cord until he looked like a cocoon, or an enlarged Indian papoose,
+ready to be swung from a drooping branch. His head fell sideways on
+the pillow in a way that would have been ludicrous, if the whole
+situation had not been so serious.
+
+Burton removed the gag first of all and tried to help the man to sit
+up, but he was so bound to the framework of the bed that nothing could
+be done until the cord was cut. While he was still struggling with the
+cord, other people began to come rushing in,--servants from the house
+and men from the street or the hotel, attracted, as Burton had been,
+by the girl's cries, and a stray policeman. Their exclamations and
+questions, rather than any recognition on his own part, told him that
+this absurdly undignified figure, almost too terrified to talk, was
+none other than his pompous friend, Mr. Hadley.
+
+Under their united efforts the cord was soon cut, and Mr. Hadley was
+lifted to a sitting position.
+
+"Are you hurt, Mr. Hadley?" some one asked.
+
+He only groaned reproachfully in reply.
+
+Burton had for the moment forgotten about Henry. Now he glanced
+anxiously about the room, which already seemed crowded. Henry was not
+to be seen, and Burton drew a breath of relief. Thank heaven he had
+cleared out!
+
+Ralston had been one of the first to arrive on the scene, and his
+practical question soon brought order into the confusion.
+
+"Now, Mr. Hadley, you must pull yourself together and give us all the
+information you can at once, so that we can take steps to discover who
+did this before he gets beyond reach. Did some one enter your
+bedroom?"
+
+"Yes. Oh, Lord, yes!"
+
+"Did you see him come in?"
+
+"I was asleep. Then I felt some one touching me and tried to sit up. I
+couldn't move. I tried to call out, but my jaw was tied up with that
+horrible cloth. I couldn't see, because the handkerchief was tied over
+my eyes."
+
+"Didn't you see him at all? Can you give no description?"
+
+"How could I see, with my eyes tied up?"
+
+"Did he say anything?"
+
+"No, but he laughed horribly under his breath, in a kind of devilish
+enjoyment. It made my blood run cold. I thought he was going to kill
+me next. Oh, Lord!"
+
+"How did he get out? By the window or the door?"
+
+"I don't know. It was quiet and I waited for what was going to happen
+next and waited, and waited, and it got to be more and more horrible
+until I thought I should die before some one came."
+
+"He came in by the window," said a man in the crowd, who had been
+examining the room. "See, here are the marks of mud on the window
+sill. He must have pulled himself up by the vine trellis. See how it
+is torn loose here. Was the window open when you went to bed, Mr.
+Hadley?"
+
+"Yes. Oh, Lord, that such things should be allowed to happen!"
+
+"Who was it gave the alarm? You, Miss Hadley? How did you discover
+what had happened to your father?"
+
+The young woman whom Burton had seen in the hall had come into the
+room. She was holding fast to the bedpost and staring at her father
+with a look of fascinated horror.
+
+"I felt the wind blowing through the hall," she said. "I came out to
+see where it came from."
+
+"Had you been asleep?"
+
+"N-no." (She was fully dressed, Burton noticed.)
+
+"Had you been in your room long?" Ralston persisted.
+
+"N-yes," she hesitated, with an involuntary glance at her father.
+"A-all evening."
+
+"And you heard no noise of any one entering the house or leaving it?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Where did the wind come from? Was there a door open?"
+
+"No, it came from father's room. It was blowing so hard that I thought
+I ought to shut his window, so I went in and then I found him all
+strapped in bed."
+
+"Yes, and she just began to scream, and never thought of cutting the
+cord," grumbled Hadley.
+
+"Was there a light in the room?" Ralston pressed his questions.
+
+"Yes, the gas was lit."
+
+"Well, it seems perfectly clear that some one has climbed up by the
+vine to the open window, entered while you were asleep, lit the gas
+after first bandaging your eyes so that you could not see, and then,
+after tying you up, made his escape in the same way. Now let's see if
+we can get any clue as to his identity. Of course it was no burglar. A
+burglar doesn't indulge in fancy work of this sort. There must have
+been personal enmity back of it. Did he leave anything in the room?"
+
+Burton had been standing by the fireplace, listening. His eye had
+already caught sight of a folded paper on the mantel which had a
+curiously familiar look. Surely he had no interest in preventing the
+truth from being known; yet he was on the point of moving nearer and
+getting quiet possession of the paper when some one else noticed it
+and picked it up.
+
+"Here's a message from him," he shouted, and then read aloud:
+
+
+"If you keep on accusing me, and slandering me in public, worse things
+will happen to you next.
+
+"Dr. Underwood."
+
+
+"I knew it was Dr. Underwood," gasped Hadley. "Oh, Lord, I knew he
+would get even with me for saying that we would not be safe in our
+beds. I didn't mean it. I always knew I was perfectly safe in my bed."
+
+Ralston came quickly over and took the paper from the hand of the man
+who had picked it up. As he did so he glanced at Burton, as though
+recognizing that he was the one man here who might be expected to
+speak for Dr. Underwood.
+
+"Where was it?"
+
+"Right here, on the mantel."
+
+Ralston handed it over to Burton, asking in an undertone: "What do you
+make of it?"
+
+Burton took the paper and examined it, but merely shook his head to
+escape answering. It did not need a glass to show him that it was
+written on the same typewriter that had produced the other documents
+he had examined.
+
+"But it is signed, isn't it?" exclaimed Hadley. "It says Dr.
+Underwood."
+
+"Of course it is perfectly clear in the first place that Dr. Underwood
+did not write it, since he would not leave a public confession behind
+him, and he would not sign his name in that fashion. It is written by
+some one who wanted to throw suspicion on Dr. Underwood, and who was
+ignorant enough to think it could be done in this very clumsy way,"
+said Burton.
+
+Some one in the room gave an unpleasant laugh. Selby, who had been
+standing in the background near Miss Hadley, now spoke up.
+
+"If it wasn't Dr. Underwood himself, I guess it was some one not so
+very far from him."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Henry Underwood was in the hall there when I came in. He kept out of
+sight, but he was there. He stayed until Proctor read that paper
+aloud. He isn't here now, is he?"
+
+There was a sensation in the room. No one else had seen him, but no
+one but Selby had stood where he could look into the dimly-lit hall.
+
+"Well, what of it?" said Burton impatiently, though he had wondered
+himself what had become of Henry. "It seems to me that the name of
+Underwood sets you all off. If Henry Underwood chose to go home when
+he found his assistance was not needed, that surely is not in itself a
+suspicious circumstance. He probably knew his presence, if noticed,
+would be made the subject of vilification in some way."
+
+Selby sneered, but he exercised the unusual self-control of saying
+nothing. But the man who had picked up the note on the mantel had been
+examining the cord with which Hadley had been bound and which Burton
+had cut. He now stood up and faced the little company with a
+seriousness of aspect that was more impressive than any voluble
+excitement could have been.
+
+"I sold Henry Underwood that cord, yesterday," he said. His tone and
+look made it seem like an affidavit.
+
+"You are sure of it, Mr. Proctor?" asked Ralston.
+
+"Quite sure. It is a peculiar cord. I got it in a general invoice
+about two years ago, and it has been lying in a drawer in the store
+ever since,--there has never been any call for anything of that sort.
+Yesterday Henry Underwood was in and asked for some light rope that
+would be strong enough to bear a man's weight, and I remembered this
+ball and brought it out. I have never seen another piece of cord like
+it. It isn't likely that there is another piece in town of that same
+unusual make."
+
+The men pressed about the bed to examine the cut cord,--all except
+Selby, who crossed the room to where Miss Hadley had sunk into a
+chair. She still had a dazed look, and though Selby talked to her for
+some time in an earnest undertone, Burton could not see that she made
+any response. Selby caught Burton's eye upon them and scowled, but
+went on with his murmured speech.
+
+"If you will make the charge against Henry Underwood, I will take him
+into custody," at last said the police officer who was in the room.
+
+"Oh, Lord, what will happen to me if I do?" gasped Hadley.
+
+"Well, if he is in jail, I guess nothing more will happen to you,"
+said the officer dryly.
+
+"But Dr. Underwood--"
+
+"If Henry Underwood is at the bottom of all these tricks, then Dr.
+Underwood isn't," said Ralston quickly. "We all know that the doctor
+and Henry are not on very good terms. Just what the trouble is between
+them, or how deep it goes, we don't know, but it may be that Henry is
+bitter enough against his father to try to turn suspicion against him
+in this way, and if he did this, he did the other things. They all
+hang together. What do you think, Mr. Burton?"
+
+"I agree with you that they all seem to hang together."
+
+"But not that Henry would seem to be the responsible person?"
+
+"As to that, I am hardly in a position to express an opinion," he said
+quietly. He had been examining the curiously knotted cord that had
+been wound about the unfortunate Mr. Hadley.
+
+The knots rather than the cord itself were what attracted his
+attention. They were peculiarly intricate,--the knots of a practiced
+weaver. What was more, they had the same peculiar twist that the woven
+withes of lilac had had. Probably it was a knot familiar to sailors
+and weavers, but certainly not one man in a thousand could make it so
+neatly, so deftly, so exactly. The police was certainly incredibly
+stupid not to take note of so peculiar and distinguishing a mark, but
+at this moment it was not his role to offer any suggestions.
+
+"Do you wish me to arrest Henry Underwood?" asked the policeman. "It's
+up to you to say, Mr. Hadley."
+
+"You won't tell him that I accused him?"
+
+"I won't tell him anything! I only want to know if you think that
+there is a reasonable guess that he did this night's work. If you will
+say that, I'll arrest him on suspicion. I don't want to get myself
+into trouble by arresting a man if you are going to back down
+afterwards and say you have no charge to bring against him."
+
+"I'll bring the charge, if Mr. Hadley won't," said Selby sharply. "I
+demand his arrest."
+
+"That's enough," said the policeman, slipping quietly from the room.
+
+Burton was at his heels. "If you don't mind, I'll go out with you."
+
+"And if I do mind?"
+
+"I'll go anyhow," said Burton.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+HENRY UNDERWOOD IS ARRESTED
+
+
+Burton's policeman picked up two other men on the way, and, thus
+reënforced, they made their way to Rowan street. It was away past
+midnight and as they went through the silent streets, Burton had a
+queer feeling that he was taking a part in some strange melodrama in
+an alien world. Never before had he come into direct personal contact
+with the world where policemen were important people, and where the
+primitive affairs he had supposed represented the dregs of human
+nature were matters of every-day occurrence. Why hadn't Henry
+Underwood had sense enough to be satisfied with his narrow escape of
+the night before?
+
+There was a light burning in the surgery as they approached the
+house,--a fact to which Higgins, the first policeman, called
+attention.
+
+"That light sometimes burns all night," he said, pursing up his lips.
+
+"Any city ordinance against it?" asked Burton.
+
+Higgins looked up with a slow question in his eyes.
+
+"You will stay with me, Mr. Burton," he said quietly. "O'Meara and
+Hanna, you go to the rear of the house and see that he doesn't make a
+get-away."
+
+He rang the bell at the front door, and stepped instantly back, so
+that he could keep an eye on the whole front of the house. In a minute
+the door was opened wide and Dr. Underwood, in a dressing-gown, stood
+there peering out into the dark.
+
+"Who wants me?" he asked.
+
+Higgins stepped quickly inside, and as soon as Burton, who followed in
+his wake, had entered, he closed the front door, turned the key and
+slipped it into his pocket.
+
+"Excuse me," he said, in a brisk undertone. "No one wants you, Doctor.
+I want Mr. Henry Underwood."
+
+"_You_ want him, Higgins? What for?"
+
+"Assault."
+
+"Assault? Henry? You're crazy. Henry hasn't spirit enough to assault
+any one. I'd bail him out with the greatest joy in the world, if he
+did. Whom did he assault, in the name of Goshen?"
+
+"Mr. Hadley."
+
+"Hadley! Well, there may be something to the boy, after all. When did
+this happen?"
+
+"Just now, tonight. I don't want any trouble, but I don't want any
+foolishness, either. I've got to arrest him, you know, Doctor. It
+ain't what I may choose to do about it. So will you take me up to his
+room at once, before he hears me or takes an alarm?"
+
+"You always were an unfortunate man, Higgins, but it is mighty hard
+luck that you should have to show the whole community what an idiot
+you are. It is kind of hard to be made a fool of in such a public way.
+Henry is abed and asleep and has been for hours."
+
+"Then I'll have to wake him and if you'll excuse me, Doctor, I can't
+let you give him any more time by this palaver. Will you take me to
+his room, or shall I hunt for it myself?"
+
+Underwood glanced at Burton and wrinkled his face into an unbetraying
+mask, but as he led the way upstairs he walked more slowly and
+draggingly than he had done in the afternoon, and Burton's heart ached
+for him.
+
+"That's his room," he said, pointing to a closed door. The gleam of
+light along the lower edge showed plainly that the occupant was still
+up.
+
+Higgins went to the door with a catlike silence and swiftness and laid
+his hand on the knob. It turned without resistance and he burst in
+upon Henry Underwood, half undressed. The bed had not been disturbed.
+The scattered clothing on the chairs showed that he had just come in
+from outdoors.
+
+"What does this mean?" Henry demanded, with a look of amazement.
+
+"You are under arrest," said Higgins. "Don't try any tricks. My men
+are about the house."
+
+"What am I arrested for?"
+
+"For assault on Mr. Hadley. And I warn you that anything you may say
+will be used against you."
+
+"This is all foolishness, you know," Henry said, but his voice was
+spiritless and unconvincing, and Dr. Underwood groaned involuntarily.
+
+"I haven't anything to do with that. All I have to do is to carry out
+orders. And I'll have to ask you to change your shoes. No, you don't!"
+He sprang forward and caught Henry roughly as the latter, at the word,
+rubbed his muddy shoe upon the rug on which he was standing. "We want
+your shoes, fresh mud and all. Just take them off, will you?"
+
+"Take them off yourself," growled Henry, with a black look.
+
+Higgins whistled and the two other men answered, one by
+melodramatically dropping in through the open window, and the other by
+appearing at the door. "Take off his shoes,--carefully, mind you. We
+want that mud on them. And get another pair for him, if you can find
+them."
+
+He motioned Henry to sit down, but instead of dropping obligingly into
+the nearest chair, Henry stalked indignantly across the room and threw
+himself down on an upholstered lounge. Then he thrust out both feet
+before him with an arrogant air, and the two policemen, who had
+followed him closely, dropped on their knees and unfastened and
+removed his shoes. Higgins, who was proud of himself for thinking of a
+detail which might prove important, watched the process so closely
+that he paid no attention to anything else. Underwood, who leaned
+heavily against the door-casing, watched his son's face with a look
+that was something like despair. But Burton, who stood silently at one
+side, watched Henry, and so saw an apparently casual motion that took
+his right hand from the vicinity of his breast pocket to the inner
+edge of the upholstered seat of the lounge.
+
+"Well, what next?" Henry asked brusquely, when the men had shod him.
+
+"You will come with us," said Higgins.
+
+He rose without a word, and reached for his hat and coat.
+
+"Henry!" The word broke from Dr. Underwood like a cry. "Have you
+anything to say to me?"
+
+Henry gave him one look, and then dropped his eyelids.
+
+"I think not," he said, with a curious air of deliberation.
+
+"I'll come and see you to-morrow, my boy."
+
+Henry nodded carelessly, and turned to Higgins.
+
+"I'm ready," he said briefly.
+
+"One moment," said Burton. "How is your cut finger? I think I'd better
+look at it before you go." And without waiting for permission, he
+picked up Henry's hand and examined the forefinger which had been
+cut the evening before. Henry had dressed it carelessly with
+court-plaster, but it was evident that the finger was both stiff and
+sore.
+
+But Henry was far from being a model patient. He pulled his hand away
+with a look of surprise and resentment at Burton's touch. "That's
+nothing," he said impatiently. "What are you waiting for, Higgins?"
+
+"You," replied Higgins succinctly, slipping his hand under Henry's
+elbow.
+
+Dr. Underwood followed the little procession downstairs and did not
+notice that Burton lingered for a moment in the room. He lingered
+without moving until Henry was out of eyeshot, and then jumped to the
+sofa and ran his long fingers between the upholstered back and seat.
+It did not take more than a minute to satisfy his curiosity. Then he
+hurried downstairs, where he found a forlorn group.
+
+Mrs. Underwood, tragically calm, sat like a classic statue of despair
+in a large armchair, while the doctor, who had evidently been
+explaining the situation to his family, limped painfully and
+restlessly about the room. Leslie, erect, and with hands clenched and
+head thrown back, followed him with her eyes.
+
+"I think Henry is insane," she said deliberately.
+
+Dr. Underwood glanced apprehensively at Burton, who just then appeared
+in the doorway. Then he dropped into a chair with a groan.
+
+"I forgot my confounded ankle," he said, in lame explanation.
+
+Mrs. Underwood turned her gaze slowly upon him. "Don't prevaricate,
+Roger," she said coldly. "You did not groan because of your ankle, but
+because Henry's sin has found him out. I should think that you would
+at least see the importance of keeping clear of future sin."
+
+"May I come in?" asked Burton. There was something strange in his
+voice,--a quality that made every one turn toward him expectantly, as
+though he brought a message. "May I venture a word? Of course you know
+that I know what has happened. I came here with the officer because I
+felt that my interest in everything touching the honor of your family
+warranted me in seeing this unfortunate affair through as far as
+possible. I say unfortunate, because of course it must add to your
+annoyance temporarily. But I do not think it will do more than that.
+In fact, I think it may be the means of really getting at the truth
+that lies under this mass of misunderstanding. I do not think that
+Henry Underwood is insane,--or that he had anything to do with Mr.
+Hadley's plight. I believe him innocent and honorable, and I am going
+to bend every energy I possess to proving him so."
+
+He had spoken to all, but his eyes rested eagerly on Leslie, and at
+his last words she sprang impulsively forward and caught his hand in
+both her own.
+
+"Oh, thank you, thank you!" she cried.
+
+"Leslie, control yourself," said Mrs. Underwood, in calm reproof.
+
+Dr. Underwood got upon his feet, with entire disregard of his ankle,
+and crossed the room to Burton.
+
+"Have you any ground for that opinion, beyond an optimistic
+disposition and a natural desire to spare the family of your patient?"
+he demanded. "God knows I want to believe you,--but--" He broke off
+and shook his head.
+
+Burton hastily realized that he was hardly justified, at this point,
+in making his own grounds for assurance public.
+
+"Well,--his cut finger is sufficient. He couldn't tie all the knots
+that bound Hadley with that stiff finger," he said, with a would-be
+astute air.
+
+Underwood could not conceal his disappointment. "You have nothing
+definite, then, to go upon?"
+
+"Perhaps my evidence, in the present stage, would not be conclusive in
+court. But that is what I hope to make it. That is what I am
+definitely undertaking to do. And I believe I shall succeed." He
+smiled at Leslie, and though she did not repeat her impulsive
+demonstration of gratitude, he was satisfied with the look in her
+eyes.
+
+On his way back to the hotel, he suddenly stopped under the trees and
+spoke to himself impatiently. What difference did it make to him what
+sort of a look there was in the eyes of Philip's betrothed? He would
+be better employed in considering the situation of the Underwoods in
+the light of this new revelation about the silent Henry. If Henry was
+in love with Miss Hadley--and why else should he carry a locket with
+her portrait in his breast pocket and think first of all of concealing
+this trinket when threatened with arrest and fearing a search?--then
+there was a reasonable explanation of his prowling in the neighborhood
+of the Hadley house. Burton had thrust the locket back into its
+hiding-place in the upholstered lounge, but he could not be mistaken.
+It was the same face that he had seen looking up at Selby,--Hello! No
+need to hunt further for an explanation of the antagonism between the
+two men! The look on Selby's face when he talked so earnestly to Miss
+Hadley was one of the few human expressions that can neither be
+concealed nor counterfeited. And since nothing could be more reckless,
+hopeless and bitter, than love between the daughter of the pompous
+banker and the scapegoat of the town, why, of course, that was the
+mine that Cupid would fire.
+
+But if Henry was innocent, who was the man who was so bent on making
+him appear guilty? Who really was behind the High Ridge mystery? The
+problem was not solved. It was merely made more complicated. And
+Burton had to acknowledge that his guess was not evidence that would
+convince the public. Indeed, now that he was half an hour away from
+it, he began to wonder at his own confidence. It had come to him like
+a revelation, but it needed verification.
+
+Very well, he said doggedly, he would verify a part of it at once. He
+would call on Miss Hadley to-morrow.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+AN UNSTABLE SWEETHEART
+
+
+Burton awoke the next morning in a new frame of mind. His half
+reluctant interest in the Underwood situation had suddenly been
+touched with enthusiasm. If Henry was innocent, then the whole thing
+was a hideous conspiracy that cried to heaven to be exposed. The fact
+that it was not taking place in past historic times or in distant
+lands, but here in a commonplace town of the middle west in the light
+of newspapers, police regulations and prevalent respectability,--all
+this made it more interesting to him, instead of more prosaic. It was
+a real and vital situation, not an imaginable possibility. If Henry
+was in truth innocent, if the doctor was the guileless child of light
+that he seemed, if Miss Leslie had been involved in all this tangle by
+a cruel trick of Fate's, then certainly here was work waiting for him.
+He was no detective, but neither was this the ordinary melodrama of
+crime. It was rather a psychological problem, and it was just possible
+that he was better fitted to get at the truth of the matter than a
+professional who would have less human interest in the persons
+involved.
+
+First of all, he would see Miss Hadley. He wanted to verify his guess
+that Henry's presence in the neighborhood last night was something
+that she could very well explain if she wanted to. And if that proved
+true, then Henry's wanderings on the night of the fire might easily
+have been in the same direction. Burton could not deny that it would
+ease his mind to have that point settled!
+
+Miss Hadley came into the reception room with a nervous flutter in her
+manner and a startled look in her soft eyes. She was a pretty girl, of
+an excessively feminine type,--all soft coloring and timid grace.
+Certainly she was a pleasant thing to look upon, yet Burton's heart
+rather sank as he stood up to meet her. "She hasn't the backbone to
+stand by a man," he thought to himself, with a swift recognition of
+what Henry was going to need. But aloud he said: "I took the liberty
+of calling to inquire about your father. I hope that his trying
+experiences last night have not had any serious effects."
+
+"He has gone down to the bank," she answered. "He felt that he ought
+to take the risk."
+
+"Risk? What is he afraid of?"
+
+"Why, anything might happen, after last night," she said, opening her
+eyes wide upon him.
+
+"I'm glad to hear you say that," said Burton quickly, "because it
+indicates that you--and I hope your father--do not share the foolish
+idea that Henry Underwood was in any way responsible for that
+outrage."
+
+Her eyes filled with quick tears at the name. "They say he did it,"
+she murmured.
+
+"But you don't believe that," he said reassuringly. "You know that he
+has been arrested and put in jail, yet you say that your father fears
+other possible attacks. Of course if Mr. Underwood were the one, there
+would be no further danger, now that he is locked up! So I infer that
+your father is satisfied that it was some one else."
+
+But anything so logical as this bit of reasoning found no response in
+Miss Hadley's mind. She looked at him from brimming violet eyes that,
+Burton confessed to himself with some cynicism, would have made
+anything like common sense seem an impertinence to him if he had been
+fifteen years younger.
+
+"Papa says that he must have done it," she persisted. "He never did
+like Hen-- Mr. Underwood."
+
+"But I am sure that any personal dislike will not prevent his being
+fair to him in a case like this. You can help, you know. You can tell
+your father quite frankly why Mr. Underwood was found loitering in the
+garden. That will clear him of the most serious part of the evidence
+against him."
+
+"What--what do you mean?" she gasped, looking at him in a kind of
+terror and half rising, as though she would flee from the room.
+
+"Mr. Underwood came here last night to see you, didn't he?" he asked,
+in a matter-of-course tone.
+
+The ready tears overflowed the brimming violets, and though she dabbed
+them away with a trifle that she called a handkerchief, they continued
+to well up and overflow, while she kept her eyes fixed upon him.
+
+"I--I was going away. Papa said that I had to go to my aunt in
+Williamston, so--that Hen-- Mr. Underwood c--could not come and see
+me. And he c--couldn't even come to say goodbye, so he came to the
+garden, and--and--I was afraid some one might see him if he kept
+hanging around,--it wasn't my fault,--he wouldn't pay attention to me
+when I told him never to come again,--"
+
+"So you went down to the garden to say goodbye to him," said Burton,
+cheerfully. "Well, that was kind of you, and I don't think for my part
+that you could have done any less. He loves you and you love him and
+you had a right to say goodbye to him before you went away. Of course
+you would stand up for him, just as he would stand up for you. _I_
+understand!"
+
+Miss Hadley was so surprised by this mode of attack that she could
+only stare at him in silence.
+
+"Now the point that I want you to tell me," Burton continued, "is just
+when you left Mr. Underwood in the garden and returned to the house."
+
+She continued to stare in fascinated terror.
+
+"You came in through the window in the drawing-room, didn't you?"
+
+She made the slightest possible sign of assent.
+
+"And you went directly up to your room?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And then when the wind came up you remembered that you had left the
+window open and you went back to close it. Is that it?"
+
+"Y--yes."
+
+"And then when you got into the hall, what was it that called your
+attention to your father's room? Was his door open?"
+
+She nodded. "There was a light. I was afraid that he was up and would
+hear me in the hall, so I peeked through the crack--" She stopped, but
+she was not weeping now. She evidently saved her tears for her own
+troubles.
+
+"And then you saw him tied up in bed and you began to scream,--which
+was the very best thing you could have done, my dear Miss Hadley. How
+long were you in your room before you remembered about the window?"
+
+"I--don't know."
+
+"You had not begun to undress."
+
+She gave him a startled look.
+
+"I noticed that you were fully dressed. Did you read anything after
+you went to your room?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Or write anything?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Or sew, or-- I don't know what girls do do when they go to their
+room! But did you do anything, and how long did it take you? You see I
+want to get an idea how long it was between the time you left Mr.
+Underwood after saying goodbye to him, and the time that you looked
+into your father's room."
+
+"I don't know," she wailed, and Burton ground his teeth.
+
+"But it may be very important! You must try to remember. It would have
+taken quite a while for any one to tie all those knots. Of course if
+he was with you in the garden he was not up in your father's room, and
+if we can prove that there was not time enough--"
+
+But she had sprung to her feet with a little scream. "You don't think
+he will ever tell that I met him in the garden?"
+
+"Aren't you going to tell, yourself?" asked Burton dryly.
+
+She began to sob again, more with terror, it seemed, than anything
+else. "Papa would be--so angry."
+
+"But you wouldn't let that frighten you into silence, when your word
+would mean so much to him?" Burton forced himself to speak gently and
+coaxingly, for he saw that this frightened girl held the key to much
+of the mystery,--and he doubted her generosity!
+
+"I wish I had--never seen him. I wish he had never come to--the
+garden. I never wanted him to come!"
+
+"That wasn't the first time he had come, though, was it? You met him
+in the garden the evening before, you know," Burton said. He took a
+positive tone because he did not dare risk it as a question. But she
+met his assertion with a look so startled that it was all the
+confirmation he needed. Thank goodness! Henry had been here, then,
+when he came home in the small hours, and there was no further need to
+wonder about his whereabouts when the Sprigg fire started! Burton drew
+a breath of relief.
+
+"I didn't think he would tell," wailed Miss Hadley.
+
+"He didn't," said Burton quickly. "I happened to see him both times;
+that's how I knew."
+
+"And I never thought he would be so wicked as to tie my father up in
+knots!"
+
+"But he didn't, my dear Miss Hadley; you surely knew he didn't. He
+wouldn't have had time, even if there were nothing else. That's what
+we can prove, you and I. I want you to tell--"
+
+"Oh, I can't! I can't! I'll say I don't know anything about it, if you
+try to make me tell. I think you are horrid!"
+
+Burton beat his mind in despair. How was he to pin this irresponsible
+child down to the facts of the situation? Suddenly she looked up from
+her handkerchief.
+
+"Mr. Selby says it was Henry, and now I can see what sort of a man he
+really is."
+
+"When did he say that?"
+
+"Last night. And today."
+
+Burton reflected that Selby certainly knew the advantage of striking
+when the iron was hot. But he only asked: "Is Mr. Selby a friend of
+Mr. Underwood's?"
+
+A self-conscious look came into her face, and she dropped her eyes. It
+was quite evident that her vanity took the jealousy of the two men as
+a tribute to her powers.
+
+"Does Mr. Selby know that you are engaged to Mr. Underwood?" he asked
+abruptly.
+
+"N--no!" she stammered.
+
+"Did you tell him that you had just left Mr. Underwood in the garden
+last night?"
+
+"No," she gasped. "You--you don't think Mr. Underwood would tell?"
+
+"No, I don't think he would," said Burton. "In fact, I feel quite sure
+he would keep silence on that point, at any cost. But I am going to
+tell, if it becomes necessary."
+
+"I will never speak to him again," she cried desperately. "I will
+never see him or speak to him again."
+
+Burton held himself from retorting: "It will be better for him if you
+don't," and merely answered, with as much kindliness as he could put
+into his voice:
+
+"I shall not speak of it unless necessary. If we can clear him without
+that, all right; I know he would rather have it that way. But if it
+becomes necessary to prove where he was that evening, in order to
+prove that he could not have been in your father's room at the same
+time, I am going to tell the facts. There won't be any harm to you in
+them. And there isn't anything else to do, if that question comes up."
+
+But Miss Hadley would not answer. She gave him one look of indignant
+and tearful reproach, and then fled from the room, leaving him to find
+his way out of the house as best he could.
+
+Burton found himself in a somewhat embarrassing quandary as he
+considered the matter. While he felt morally satisfied that he had
+found the true explanation of Henry's presence in the neighborhood,
+and the proof of his innocence of all complicity in the assault upon
+the banker, he realized that it would not be easy to convince either a
+prejudiced public or a jury. Miss Hadley was obviously not to be
+counted upon. She might deny the whole thing, or she might be
+terrified into admitting anything as to time and place that the
+prosecution might wish to draw from her. Undoubtedly the opposition of
+her father would seem to the multitude merely another reason for
+suspecting Henry, instead of its being, as Burton saw it, a fairly
+conclusive proof that he would have been more than ordinarily
+scrupulous in his dealings with the man whom he hoped to call his
+father-in-law. And of course Henry would neither tell himself, nor
+thank Burton for telling, a piece of news that would be gossip and
+cause for laughter in a small town like High Ridge. It was unfortunate
+that Henry should have fixed his affections upon so unstable a
+creature as the pretty Miss Hadley, anyhow. Why couldn't he have had
+the judgment to choose some one like--well, like his sister Leslie,
+who would have walked by the side of the man she loved down into the
+valley of the shadow of death if need be?
+
+But then, he reflected cynically, people never did show any judgment
+when it came to falling in love, for the matter of that. There was
+Miss Underwood, herself. Of course Philip was a charming boy, and all
+that, but--He shook his head impatiently, and went on to interview
+Henry.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+HENRY IS HARD TO HANDLE
+
+
+Burton found Henry Underwood in prison quite as calm and saturnine as
+he had been in the garden.
+
+"Have you made any arrangement for counsel?" he asked, after shaking
+hands.
+
+"Counsel? You mean a lawyer? No."
+
+"Is there some one you would prefer?"
+
+"Do I have to have one?"
+
+"Oh, yes! That's one of the rules of the game."
+
+"Suppose I just don't play?" suggested Henry.
+
+Burton laughed in spite of himself.
+
+"Then the court will appoint some young lawyer to practise on you.
+You'd better make your own selection. For one thing you want a lawyer
+to arrange to bail you out. This is a bailable offence, you
+understand, and you don't want to stay in this hole any longer than is
+necessary."
+
+"Nevertheless, I shall stay for the present," said Henry coolly. "I do
+not want to be bailed out."
+
+"Why not?" demanded Burton. "In the name of wonder, why not?"
+
+"For one thing, I will ask no favors of any one. I will not be put in
+the attitude of suppliant."
+
+"If you will pardon my frankness," said Burton, "that is pig-headed
+nonsense. But aside from that point, you won't need to do anything
+about it. Your lawyer will attend to it. And I herewith offer to put
+up any bond that may be required, so your pride is saved. It is I who
+am the suppliant!"
+
+Henry looked neither surprised nor grateful. "I told you that I was
+not going to let myself be bailed out," he said with some impatience.
+"Now that they have shut me up in here, they at least can't accuse me
+of the next thing that happens."
+
+"Oh, I see! Well, if you have the nerve for it, I am not sure that
+isn't a good plan," said Burton thoughtfully. "It will certainly
+eliminate you as a factor, if anything more does happen. Of course if
+the person who seems bent on implicating you should be shrewd enough
+to keep quiet for a while, it would not have the effect you wish for.
+Have you thought of that possibility?"
+
+"I'm out of it," said Henry shortly. "That's all I care about. And
+here I am going to stay until they get tired and let me out to get rid
+of me."
+
+"I am really very glad you can take that attitude," said Burton. He
+spoke sincerely, for the young man's manner contained no personal
+offence in spite of his brusqueness, and Burton was the least vain of
+men. "It leaves us free to work on the outside,--and of course you
+understand that I am going to work for you. Now, I want your help so
+far as you can give it to me. I want to know if you have any idea who
+is at the bottom of these occurrences,--any knowledge or any
+suspicion."
+
+"No."
+
+"Of course you must have given a good deal of thought to it, in the
+course of all these years. You have never had a glimmering of an idea
+as to who it is that is persecuting you?"
+
+Henry smiled sardonically. "My mother says it is no
+persecution,--merely the punishment for my evil temper. I suppose you
+have heard that I have an evil temper?"
+
+"Yes. It gave me a fellow-feeling for you. I have an evil temper
+myself, at bottom. But as for punishment, what I want to get at is the
+human agency. It seems incredible that you should have never, in your
+own mind, had a suspicion of the guilty party."
+
+"What I may have thought in my own mind is neither here nor there,"
+said Henry, knitting his black brows together.
+
+"Have you an enemy, then?"
+
+Henry shrugged his shoulders. "I have no friends."
+
+"Then you absolutely refuse to give me any help?"
+
+"I absolutely refuse to give you what I don't possess," said Henry
+impatiently.
+
+Burton waited a moment, then he asked suddenly: "Did Selby give you
+back your knife, before he left the surgery the other night?"
+
+The look that had flashed instantaneously into Henry's eyes at the
+mention of that name gave Burton all the information he needed as to
+Henry's power of hating one man at least. But the answer to his
+question was abrupt and positive.
+
+"No."
+
+"Did you notice what he did with it,--whether he gave it to your
+father, or left it on the mantel, or anywhere else?"
+
+"I didn't notice."
+
+"But you are positive that he didn't give it to you and that you
+didn't unconsciously drop it into your own pocket?"
+
+"Of course I am positive. I wouldn't be unconscious in connection with
+anything that Selby was concerned in. If he came near enough to me to
+hand me anything, I would be conscious of the fact, you may be sure.
+Why?"
+
+"That knife has been found near the Sprigg house."
+
+Henry frowned.
+
+"The last I saw of that knife, it was in Selby's hands," Burton
+continued. "Well, what of it?"
+
+"How did it come to be under the Sprigg ruins? You must help me to
+work that out. You are suspected of firing the house,--you know that,
+don't you?"
+
+Henry's eyes fell. "Who says so?" he asked doggedly, but without
+spirit. "Selby does."
+
+But this time he drew nothing. Henry merely shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"The knife is the only direct link with you," Burton went on.
+"Therefore we must explain the knife. How did it get there?"
+
+"What do I know about it? Or about anything?" Henry asked impatiently.
+
+But Burton was persistent. "There are two possible theories," he said,
+watching Henry as he spoke. "The knife may have been left in the
+surgery when the committee departed, and the incendiary may have found
+it there and carried it off. I have reasons for believing that some
+one tried to enter--or rather, _did_ enter--that room in the night.
+Or, as an alternative theory, Selby may have carried it away with him,
+either intentionally or unconsciously, and then dropped it near the
+Sprigg house,--either intentionally or unconsciously."
+
+Henry listened with little softening of the bitterness in his face.
+"There is another possible theory," he said, with something like a
+sneer. "I may be lying when I say he didn't give the knife back to
+me."
+
+"That is of course possible," said Burton calmly, "but I don't believe
+it. At any rate I'll try out the other theories first. Now, here's
+another point. Did you buy a ball of stout twine at Proctor's the
+other day?"
+
+Henry stared. "Why do you ask that?"
+
+"Because Proctor said that he had sold you the cord that Hadley was
+tied up with. He claimed to identify it. Did you buy it of him?"
+
+"I bought a ball of cord,--yes."
+
+"What did you do with it?"
+
+"I used it to tie up some heavy vines in the back yard."
+
+"Did you use all of it?"
+
+"No."
+
+"What did you do with the rest,--the ball?"
+
+Henry considered. "I don't remember. I may have left it on the ground
+where I was working."
+
+"You can't be sure about it?"
+
+"No." Henry spoke with an exasperating indifference. It might have
+been Burton whose honor was involved, and Henry merely an uninterested
+bystander. Burton looked at him in great perplexity. His desire to
+help the man out was not lessened, but he felt baffled by the mask of
+reserve which Henry refused to lay aside. He so greatly disliked being
+placed in the attitude of forcing his proffers of assistance upon an
+unwilling recipient that only the thought of Leslie Underwood kept him
+from wishing to drop the matter then and there. But he did remember,
+and he put his pride in his pocket.
+
+"All these matters are for your attorney," he said at last. "If there
+is any one whom you would rather have or would rather not have, I wish
+you'd tell me. I do not want to involve your feelings unnecessarily,
+and I shall certainly have to confer with your father on the subject."
+
+Henry frowned, but after a moment's hesitation he took a pencil from
+his pocket and wrote a name and address on a leaf which he tore from a
+memorandum book.
+
+"I think they would be as good as anybody, if I have to have some
+one," he said.
+
+Burton took the paper, but he hardly glanced at the name, so
+interested was he in the pencil with which Henry wrote. It was a short
+flat pencil, such as carpenters use, and it made the broad black mark
+that Burton already knew from the mysterious missives of warning.
+
+"Do you always use that sort of a pencil?" he asked.
+
+Henry bent his black brows in a look of resentful inquiry.
+
+"What if I do?"
+
+"Because it is unusual, and leaves a peculiar mark, easily identified,
+and because I am assuming that you would rather be cleared than
+convicted," said Burton, exasperated into impatience. "When it is
+common report that you are the author of the anonymous messages which
+appear either in the typewriting of the machine in your house or in
+that broad black pencil, there certainly is every reason for finding
+out who is sufficiently familiar with your ways to imitate them so
+skilfully. Or is it common knowledge that you use a carpenter's
+pencil?"
+
+"It is not uncommon for people to use it for things that are to stand
+weathering," said Henry, reluctantly. "I use it in my work in the
+garden."
+
+"Is your custom in the matter generally known?"
+
+"How can I tell?"
+
+"Just for instance,--does Selby know?"
+
+But Henry was guarding his expression now. He shook his head with
+rather an elaborate affectation of lack of interest. "I'm sure I
+couldn't say."
+
+"Selby might carry a carpenter's pencil," mused Burton, "but he would
+be too shrewd to use it. Who would know your ways? Who comes
+frequently and familiarly to your house? Does Selby--again, just for
+instance,--have access to your house?"
+
+"No," said Henry coldly. "He never comes there. That is, he never
+comes to our part of the house. He comes now and then to see Ben
+Bussey about work, but he goes to the back door."
+
+"The back hall that runs by the door of the surgery?"
+
+"Yes," said Henry. He turned away, as though to mark the end of the
+conversation, and Burton refrained from pressing him further.
+
+
+Burton left the jail a good deal perplexed as to what he really did
+think of things by this time. He had jumped so enthusiastically to the
+conclusion the night before that Henry was innocent that he could not
+easily relinquish that hope, and yet certainly Henry had not cared at
+all to help him to establish it as a fact. He seemed more than
+unwilling to make any admission that would throw suspicion on Selby,
+and yet, if there were anything in expression, he hated Selby. Was it
+possible that just because he hated Selby he was so scrupulous not to
+implicate him? The idea struck Burton at first merely as a paradox,
+but the more he thought about it, the more he began to believe he had
+hit upon the truth. It was exactly the sort of Quixotism of which the
+doctor would have been guilty. Perhaps Henry was not so unlike his
+father as he appeared. If he knew or guessed, for instance, that Miss
+Hadley was wavering between himself and Selby, it was not difficult to
+understand that he would have considered it anything but "sporting" to
+involve his rival in the obloquy which had fallen upon himself. Well,
+if Miss Hadley were the key that would unlock Henry's heart,--or his
+lips,--he must try Miss Hadley again. Perhaps she could be moved to
+pity. He swerved out of his way to call again upon the banker's
+daughter.
+
+Miss Hadley was in the drawing-room, and she received him this time
+with an evident embarrassment and hesitation which he attributed to
+her lingering resentment at his former urgency. But he had already
+taken her measure. She was one of the people who must never be allowed
+to exercise free will. She needed a master to keep her from making a
+fool of herself. He determined at once to assume what he wanted her to
+believe.
+
+"I have just been to see Mr. Underwood," he said. "He is a fine
+fellow,--but you found that out before the rest of the town did!
+However, everybody will know it one of these days. We are going to
+have all this misunderstanding and mystery cleared up, and you will
+have a chance to be proud of him publicly. But just now, while he is
+so unhappy, you must help to cheer him up. Don't you think you might
+go and see him and tell him that you believe in him? It would mean a
+great deal to him. You would seem like an angel of mercy to him."
+
+He had talked rapidly, pressing his plan with a sort of urgency that
+he would never have dared to use, for instance, with Leslie Underwood.
+Almost he assumed that she would have no opinion to offer if only he
+didn't give her time to consider! But she drew away from him with a
+look of absolute dismay that was not in the character he had outlined
+for her.
+
+"I couldn't think of it,--not at all," she stammered.
+
+"But you know you are engaged--"
+
+"Oh, no!" she gasped.
+
+"Well, practically you are," he persisted calmly.
+
+"And you know that it would mean more to him--"
+
+"I don't know what you mean at all," she exclaimed desperately, and
+unconsciously she glanced at the drawn curtains that separated the
+drawing-room from a room in the rear.
+
+Burton bit his lip. He certainly had been rashly foolish to assume
+that he was speaking tête-à-tête with Miss Hadley. Who was in the back
+room? Her father? If he understood Mr. Hadley's temperament, he would
+have burst into the room to demand an explanation by this time. Could
+it possibly be Selby who was eavesdropping? If it were, he would give
+him something for his pains!
+
+"Mr. Underwood has enemies," he said calmly. "Mr. Selby, for instance,
+is not friendly to him. Of course you know that, and you will
+understand that anything he may say to you about his rival ought to be
+discounted. I don't need to suggest to you which is the more worthy of
+faith and credit. One is a gentleman, the other isn't. Of course there
+could never for a moment be a question of counting the two men equal."
+And then, fearful from the terrified dismay on her face that if he
+kept on she would say something that would give the situation away, he
+switched the conversation off upon tracks of glittering generality,
+and spun it out as long as he dared. If it really were Selby in the
+back room waiting for him to go, he was going to give him his money's
+worth! He even ventured on a form of open flattery which he guessed
+would make Selby furious and which certainly made Miss Hadley stare at
+him in innocent amazement. When the lengthening shadows forced him at
+last to take his leave, he took it with a lingering deliberation that
+measured out exasperation to his hidden enemy drop by drop.
+
+He went immediately to his own room in the hotel, which, it will be
+remembered, overlooked the Hadley house, and sat down by the open
+window to read the evening papers. There was no reason, surely, why he
+should not sit by his own window! He had to wait nearly half an hour,
+but he was rewarded. At the end of that time Selby came out of the
+house and, with a dark glance toward the hotel, hurried up the street.
+
+Burton laughed softly, but after a while he began to wonder just what
+he had gained by his absurd punishment of the eavesdropper. Nothing,
+probably, except a malicious satisfaction which was not particularly
+creditable to him. He instinctively disliked Selby; but unless Selby
+could be shown to have an active hand in the mysterious disturbances
+which had been laid at Henry's door, he had no quarrel with him. It
+was questionable wisdom to antagonize Selby unnecessarily at this
+stage of the proceedings. However, the first thing to do now was to
+see Dr. Underwood and consult with him as to the steps to be taken for
+securing legal counsel.
+
+It was noticeable that the necessity of calling at the Red House
+immediately lightened the burden of the day's affairs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+BURTON'S TURN
+
+
+The surgery, whatever claim it may originally have had to the title,
+appeared now to be the doctor's den and smoking-room. Mrs. Bussey
+indicated that he would find the doctor there, and Burton did not
+attempt to conceal from himself the pleasure with which he discovered
+that Leslie was with her father, and that she gave no sign of any
+intention to beat an immediate retreat.
+
+"How is my patient?" he asked, with an elaborate assumption of the
+popular physician's "bedside manner."
+
+"Mighty glad to see you," said Dr. Underwood, with a look that made
+the words go home. "Leslie and I have been sitting here cultivating a
+magnificent crop of the blues. There was trouble enough before, but
+this affair--"
+
+"Is the best possible thing that could have happened, because it will
+bring matters to a crisis," answered Burton. "I told you that I am
+firmly convinced that your son is innocent, and I hold to that belief
+in spite of the unnatural conduct of his father in feeling
+discouraged. I have been talking with Mr. Underwood in the jail."
+
+"Did you get any satisfaction out of your conversation?" asked the
+doctor dryly. "If you did, I'll engage you as my official
+interpreter."
+
+"Not very much concrete satisfaction, perhaps, but a good deal of
+subjective reassurance. I am firmly convinced that he is the victim,
+first, of his own pride and bitterness, and, second, of some
+unscrupulous enemy, who is taking advantage of the state of the public
+mind to throw unmerited discredit upon him."
+
+"That's what Leslie says. But how are we going to make it clear to the
+world at large? And things have now reached a point where the world at
+large will have to be taken into the family confidence to a
+disconcerting extent. Leslie, I wish you were married and overseas."
+
+Leslie looked as though it might be a relief to her to allow her
+spirits to droop, but at this challenge she lifted her head gallantly.
+
+"Then you would put me to all the trouble and expense of a trip back
+overseas to come to you," she said promptly. "Counsel to run away from
+trouble doesn't come with a good grace from you, father. You have
+never set me the example."
+
+"You see what influence I have over my children," said the doctor,
+appealing to Burton.
+
+"I'm beginning to see. My sympathies go out to you. Let us talk of
+some less distressing matter. For instance,--Miss Hadley." He glanced
+from one to the other as he spoke the name, but in neither face could
+he read the slightest consciousness. A curious impulse of masculine
+loyalty to Henry made him hesitate to divulge the secret which Henry
+had evidently guarded so carefully that it was unsuspected by his
+family. "I have just been calling on Miss Hadley," he added, in lame
+explanation. "I wanted to get some further particulars. But that
+really should be the work of your son's lawyer, Doctor, and that's
+what I specially wanted to consult with you about. I want your
+permission to send for a real lawyer,--a big man who will bring the
+very best skill and experience to the case. You won't object?"
+
+The doctor hesitated a moment before he answered.
+
+"Is a big man necessary if the case is to turn on facts? Frankly, I
+can't afford a big lawyer, you know. I'd rather take a local man with
+a sickly family, so that I could work it out in bills! I know it
+sounds sordid, but that is the mercenary, habit of the world, and I
+can't hope to change it out of hand. I should be perfectly willing to
+ignore matters of that sort, but--the big lawyer wouldn't."
+
+"I see," said Burton, recognizing that one of the impossibilities in
+the case was any offer of financial assistance on his own part.
+"Perhaps you are right. If we can simply establish the facts, we
+shan't need any hired eloquence to present them. They will speak for
+themselves. Well, we will establish the facts."
+
+"But how? How?" demanded Leslie eagerly.
+
+"I have one or two fragmentary theories in my mind. In the first
+place--"
+
+But he got no farther, for there was suddenly an alarming clash and
+clatter in the back hall. Both Burton and Leslie sprang for the door
+But the sight that met their eyes was not nearly so alarming as the
+noise. It was merely Mrs. Bussey, gathering up the broken pieces of a
+starch box which lay in curious proximity to a kitchen chair which
+stood in curious proximity to the transom of the door to the surgery.
+
+"I was jest a-trying to get down them cobwebs," she gasped, and
+retreated hastily to the safe precincts of the kitchen with the
+unreliable box.
+
+Burton took up his theme as though he had not been interrupted,
+deeming it wisest to take no further notice of this curious domestic
+situation.
+
+"Your son does not wish to take advantage of his unquestionable
+privilege of bail," he said to the doctor. "He goes on the theory that
+things will continue to happen and that he will therefore be cleared
+by implication. I can't say I feel sure of it. This unknown enemy
+seems to be quite astute enough to suspend operations while Mr.
+Underwood is under lock and key, merely to avoid giving him the
+vindication which he would like to secure in that way. But perhaps it
+might be as well to let him carry out his plan for a time. It will
+probably give you a temporary respite from further disturbances."
+
+"Even that will be gratefully received," said the doctor wearily.
+
+"It will at least give us time," said Burton.
+
+And then, feeling that his friends needed to be taken away from the
+thought of the burden which they were carrying, he turned the
+conversation upon impersonal matters. He deliberately laid himself out
+to be entertaining,--and the effort was more of a compliment than they
+were apt to realize. When finally he said good night, he had to admit
+that he had enjoyed the evening very much. Of course it wouldn't do to
+ask Miss Underwood if she had had as good a time as he had,--but at
+any rate she had not looked bored. But then, she could hardly have
+told a man to his face that she found him dull!
+
+His thoughts were running along after this idiotic fashion when he
+became aware that a man was following him in the street. He noticed it
+at first merely because the street was otherwise so entirely deserted,
+and it did not occur to him that the man was actually dogging him
+until he had turned a corner or two, and found that the man did the
+same. Then he slackened his pace and the man fell back. By this time
+he began to be curious. He took a couple of unnecessary turns, and
+satisfied himself that the pursuit was no accident. Then he turned
+sharply on his heel and made a jump toward his pursuer. But the man
+dodged, jumped from the sidewalk, and ran off between two buildings.
+
+The incident puzzled Burton, and made him somewhat uncomfortable. High
+Ridge was a place of mysteries. Also, he reflected, it was a place of
+very few policemen. Was his pursuer a common street bandit, with
+designs on his purse, or was he connected with the Underwood mystery
+and the warning that had been sent him at the hotel? The thought made
+him square his jaw. Did they think to frighten him off? He would let
+them see!
+
+He had turned aside from his most direct route to the hotel in this
+experiment, and he now found himself in a street with which he was not
+familiar, though he knew the general location. He turned in the
+direction where his hotel must be, and was glad to hear no longer the
+sound of feet behind him. Suddenly from the shadow of a large business
+block, a man sprang out from a driveway and jumped at him. The attack
+was so sudden and so fierce and Burton was so unprepared that for a
+moment he was borne backward and almost carried to the ground. How he
+recovered himself he could not have told. The primitive instinct of
+the fighting animal awoke within him, and perhaps some of the acquired
+skill of his college days came back. He knew that he was fighting for
+his life, for the hand that he had clutched held a knife, and there
+was no mistaking the vicious energy that his assailant was exerting.
+Burton answered with a strength that he had not known he possessed. He
+felt the man's body yielding inch by inch under his clutch, and then
+suddenly it slipped away from his hands, and the man darted off and
+disappeared into the night, leaving Burton panting and dishevelled and
+very much amazed. He had never before had occasion to defend his
+life,--he had always taken for granted that civilization would take
+that burden off the hands of any decent man. And yet here, in a quiet
+little village, where he was practically unknown, he had been assailed
+by some one who really wanted to kill him. He was quite sure that the
+man's object had not been merely thievish. His attack was personally
+vicious.
+
+Suddenly he remembered how he had kept Selby cooling his heels in Miss
+Hadley's back parlor while he amused himself with Miss Hadley, and the
+satisfaction he had taken in the situation faded into a rather serious
+inquiry. Selby was a man of violent temper who had no occasion to love
+him. But did he have occasion to hate him to the death? If so, there
+could be but one reason. He feared his investigations.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+AN ODD KNOT
+
+
+Burton awoke the next morning with a consuming desire to go at once
+and look at Selby. If it really had been he who had been guilty of
+that midnight attack, was it in human power for him to conceal all
+trace of his consciousness? Burton recalled the note of warning which
+had been left for him at the clerk's desk, and afterwards abstracted
+from his room. Selby lodged in the hotel, and had therefore the
+advantage of position. He could have come and gone without attracting
+attention. A stranger could not. Certainly he must take a look at
+Selby.
+
+He found him at his desk in the rear of a large and crowded room which
+appeared to be a combined office and workroom. He looked up as Burton
+entered, but scowled instead of nodding, and went on talking to a
+workman who was receiving instructions. Burton merely nodded and took
+a chair to wait. Selby gave him plenty of time for it. Burton could
+not help feeling, after awhile, that he was being ignored for the
+express purpose of insult, and to remove the sting of the enforced
+waiting he got up and sauntered across the room to look at a
+collection of Indian baskets, moccasins, and pipes, fastened against
+the wall. The specimens were of little intrinsic beauty and less
+commercial value, but Burton knew something about Indian basketry, and
+these examples of the common work of the mid-continent tribes
+interested him. More, they stirred some pulse of thought deep down in
+his mind. There was some connection,--something,--of which those
+baskets were trying to remind him. He stared at them so intently that
+he did not notice that the workman had finally departed, until Selby
+pushed back his chair, rose, and grudgingly came over to where he
+stood.
+
+"Looking at my Indian things?" he asked, with an uneasy assumption of
+civility.
+
+"Yes, they interest me. Where did you get hold of them?"
+
+"Oh, just picked them up. I've been about among the Indians a good
+deal."
+
+"I've made a collection myself of the work of the Aleutians," said
+Burton, glad to find some abstract topic which would serve as a
+springboard for the intercourse which he meant to establish with Mr.
+Selby. "So naturally these things catch my eye. From the artistic
+standpoint they don't compare, of course, with the work of the Alaskan
+Indians, but they are good indications of the tribal development." As
+he talked he remembered suddenly the old Indian woman at the station,
+and Selby's rudeness. How he and Selby had clashed at every meeting!
+
+"Where did you know the Indians?"
+
+"Hereabouts. In the early days."
+
+"Right here? In High Ridge?"
+
+"High Ridge wasn't on the map then. The Indians lived all over this
+part of the country before the settlers came."
+
+"And you really remember back to those days? It sounds very far back."
+
+"Twenty-five years will cover a good deal of history in this part of
+the country. High Ridge has grown up inside of that time, and most of
+the people here don't know any more about Indians than you do." The
+words were innocent enough, but there was an insolence in the tone
+that made Burton feel that the ice of courtesy between them was thin
+as well as cool. He turned from the baskets and said abruptly:
+
+"I suppose you heard that Henry Underwood's knife was found near the
+Sprigg house."
+
+"Yes," said Selby, looking at Burton defensively under his eyebrows.
+
+"It was the same knife you used to pry up the hearthstone with, the
+evening that your comrades(??) called on the doctor. You broke the
+point off you know. Do you remember whether you gave the knife to
+Henry or to the doctor when you left?" He tried to make his question
+sound casual.
+
+"I gave it to Henry," said Selby deliberately.
+
+"Did something fix that fact in your memory?"
+
+"Do you mean that I am lying?" demanded Selby aggressively.
+
+"Let us limit our discussion to what I am actually saying," said
+Burton, with the access of politeness he was apt to assume when
+ruffled. "I merely wanted to know what your position would be in case
+any question is raised in regard to that knife. But probably it never
+will be."
+
+"Not just at present," said Selby, with white lips. "The fool has his
+hands full enough for the present with the Hadley outrage. When we are
+through with that, we will take up the Sprigg matter. I rather think
+we can keep Mr. Underwood busy for some time to come."
+
+"You have done pretty well in that direction up to this time," said
+Burton, with a congratulatory smile. "I hope you will console yourself
+with that reflection when luck turns. We must all learn to bear
+reverses patiently." He smiled and bowed elaborately and left the
+office.
+
+Once outside, he reflected on his folly. "I am a blessed fool as a
+diplomat," he said to himself. "I seem unable to deny myself the
+pleasure of making him angry."
+
+The sight of Selby's curios had set his mind off on the thought of
+Indians, and since he had nothing else to do he turned his steps to
+the railway station where he had seen the Indian woman with her wares
+the day he arrived.
+
+She was there again, and when Burton stopped before her she looked up
+with a broad smile which might have meant recognition and gratitude,
+or might have meant simply commercial hopes.
+
+"How!" she said, and Burton responded "How!" Then suddenly his eye
+caught something that made him bend over her wares in very real
+interest. The burden-basket in which her goods were stowed was a
+net-like bag, made of flexible thongs of hide, tied together with a
+peculiar knotting. It made him think of the uncommon knot that he had
+noticed in the cords that bound Mr. Hadley and in the cord that had
+fastened the lilac branches together about the baby. He was
+sufficiently expert in Indian basketry to feel certain that it was the
+same knot, and that it was a peculiar and individual knot,--an
+adaptation of an old knot, undoubtedly, but none the less distinctly
+and recognizably original.
+
+"Did you make that basket?" he asked.
+
+"Nice," she said cheerfully, holding up a beaded basket of birch-bark.
+
+"No, this big basket. How much?"
+
+She giggled and tried to take it from him. Evidently it had not been
+invoiced for sale. But Burton wanted that and no other. He took a bill
+from his pocketbook, and, recovering forcible possession of the
+basket, laid the bill on her capacious knee.
+
+"All right," he said authoritatively, and waited to see if she would
+confirm him. She took up the bill and put it away in her pocket. She
+might not understand the methods of the paleface, but she undoubtedly
+understood the language that his money spoke.
+
+"Who make this basket?" he asked, but this went into linguistic
+difficulties. She pattered something unintelligible, and hastily tied
+up her remaining wares in her shawl. Burton tried in various ways to
+explain his meaning, but finally gave it up because she departed from
+his neighborhood with a haste that suggested fear on her part that he
+might repent him of his spendthriftiness and try to recover his money.
+
+Burton was left alone with his basket, and as he examined it his
+excitement grew. At last he had something positive,--something to work
+with. There was a definite clue in that Indian basket. _Who in High
+Ridge knew how to tie that peculiar knot?_ He must consult Dr.
+Underwood at once.
+
+(Incidentally, it was curious how all roads led inevitably to the Red
+House.)
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+THE TRAIL TO YESTERYEAR
+
+
+That afternoon, following a hint from Ralston, Burton made a point of
+interviewing Watson, the chief of police, on the subject of the old
+High Ridge disturbances which had been laid at Henry Underwood's door.
+He found it a sore subject. Watson was a decent fellow and disposed to
+be fair-minded, but Henry Underwood was a red rag to him. The way in
+which the police force had been defied and outwitted in the former
+outbreak was not likely to soften their attitude toward the culprit in
+the present case. The hope of proving Henry guilty was evidently dear
+to the official heart, and Burton departed, feeling that there was no
+help to be looked for in that direction. The rigor of the law was all
+that the Underwood family could expect. It was evening before he found
+the time and opportunity to take his basket to the Red House. Mrs.
+Bussey did not appear. Instead, it was Leslie herself who admitted
+him, and conducted him to the surgery.
+
+"See what a bargain I have found," said Burton, displaying his
+purchase.
+
+The doctor gave it a casual glance. "An Indian basket, isn't it? And
+not a very good one."
+
+"A very good--for my purpose. I wish I had another. Do you know any
+one in town who could weave one for me?"
+
+"No, I'm afraid not." The doctor made an obvious effort to respond to
+his guest's trivial interests.
+
+"Are there any Indians living in or near town?"
+
+"No. They were all corralled on the Reservation years ago. There is a
+squaw who comes down from the Reservation to sell beadwork and things
+like that on the streets, but she is the only one I ever see
+nowadays."
+
+"Yes, I got this basket from her today. But I want a mate to it. Is
+there any one in town who can weave in the Indian fashion?"
+
+"I don't know of any one."
+
+"Would you know if there were any one? Excuse the persistence of a
+tourist and a faddist!"
+
+Underwood aroused himself to a more genuine interest. "Why, if it is a
+matter that you have your heart set upon, I certainly should be glad
+to give you any information possible. But I don't believe there is any
+one in town who makes any attempt at that sort of work, or takes any
+interest in it. I should certainly know if any one made a profession
+of it, or even had a well-developed fad for it, to use your own word.
+Why? Is the basket rare?"
+
+"I have never seen that particular knot before. What's more, I didn't
+know that the mid-continent Indians did that sort of weaving at all. I
+should guess that it is the work of some one individual weaver and
+possibly those who have learned from her. Do you know any one in town
+who has a personal acquaintance with the Indians?"
+
+The doctor smiled whimsically. "Our dear and cherished friend Selby
+has a first-hand acquaintance with them. When I first came to High
+Ridge, it was just a frontier settlement. The Indians were the free
+lances of the State. They still hunted in the northern woods with much
+of their original freedom, and they came to town to do their trading
+and to get what they wanted by a sort of proud and independent begging
+that came near to having the ethical weight of natural law. How could
+you refuse a fellow mortal a paper of tobacco when he came and took it
+out of your pocket? To take it back with a dignity matching his own
+was something that required more ancestral training in dignity than
+most of us had. All the men that had a love for hunting came sooner or
+later to pick out some Indian who would act as scout and show him the
+best trails. There's an attraction about that sort of life."
+
+"And Selby was one of them?"
+
+"More than any of us. Selby and old man Bussey antedate my time. They
+were here when there was only a beginning of a town, and it was mostly
+wild country. Bussey was a born Bohemian who lived among the Indians
+for years like one of themselves. Even after he was married, he would
+go off for the whole summer, leaving his wife and the kid to shift for
+themselves. Sometimes he took Ben along, and Mrs. Bussey would come
+around and work for Mrs. Underwood."
+
+"You linked Selby and Bussey together. Did he go among them also?"
+
+"He often went off with Bussey, but he went for the trades he could
+make, rather than for any innocent purpose like hunting. He was a mere
+boy when he began selling them calicoes warranted to fade in the first
+wash in exchange for muskrat and beaver skins. And he cheated them
+when he could, at that."
+
+"Did he take any interest in Indian basketmaking?"
+
+"I'm sure I don't know. Old man Bussey could probably have woven your
+basket for you and put in some extra kinks of his own in addition, but
+I never paid much attention to that sort of thing,--old squaw's work!"
+
+"I hope to convince you of its value and importance. If I went up to
+the Reservation, should I find any of those old neighbors of yours?"
+
+"You might, and you might not. The Indians do not live to be old under
+the conditions of life that the white man provides for them. But it is
+more than probable that some of them are still alive."
+
+"What does Selby pay Ben Bussey for that woodcarving he buys?" Burton
+asked abruptly.
+
+"I don't know," said the doctor, with a look of helpless surprise.
+
+"You think my questions irrelevant," smiled Burton. "I was wondering
+if Selby cheated Ben as he used to cheat the Indians."
+
+"Oh, I guess not. If he didn't take Ben's work, I don't know who
+would, in High Ridge. There isn't much demand for that sort of thing.
+I have always felt that Selby made a market for Ben out of old
+friendship."
+
+"That's an amiable trait which I should hate to discover in Mr. Selby.
+It would be so lonesome. I wonder if it is friendship."
+
+"Well, say merely old acquaintance, then. Selby as a boy was out and
+about with Bussey, and they naturally would have come to have a
+feeling of comradeship. Then Ben grew up, and Selby took him about as
+Ben's father had taken him before. Especially after Bussey
+disappeared. Ben was a sort of a waif, and Selby took him along in his
+trips into the back country. I have no doubt he made him work for his
+keep, all right."
+
+"Then Ben would be likely to know whether Selby learned weaving from
+the Indians, wouldn't he?" exclaimed Burton. "That's the way to find
+out! Can I talk to Ben Bussey?"
+
+"Certainly. He sees people whenever he likes. That back part of the
+house, over the kitchen, is given over to them, and they are as
+independent there as if they lived in their own house. But why are you
+so curious about Selby's Indian experiences? If one is to believe
+gossip, he had more experiences than he would care to have remembered
+against him nowadays. But you are not inquiring into his morals?"
+
+"No, merely his skill." He hesitated a moment, and then explained. "I
+don't want to raise any false hopes, but I have an idea that the
+person who tied Mr. Hadley in his bed and who braided the lilac
+branches together over the Sprigg baby had learned weaving from the
+same squaw who wove this basket I bought today. It's a peculiar
+knot,--not at all a common one in such weaving, so far as I am
+acquainted with it."
+
+The doctor looked serious. "I wonder! Unquestionably Selby might have
+learned Indian weaving. But--"
+
+"That wouldn't prove very much. No, but it would be something. Suppose
+you ask Mrs. Bussey to take me up to see Ben. His woodcarving will
+supply a reason for my visit. And incidentally I'll find out what
+Selby pays him."
+
+Mrs. Bussey was obviously both surprised and flattered at the request
+that she conduct this important visitor to her son's room. She had
+evidently taken Dr. Underwood's chaffing use of the title "Doctor" in
+good earnest, and insisted upon regarding Burton as a famous
+physician.
+
+"You can't do nothing for Ben, Doctor," she said, pursing up her lips
+and shaking her head. "He's that bad nobody can do anything for him.
+Henry Underwood done for him all right."
+
+He found Ben Bussey in a wheeled chair near a window which in the
+daytime must command a pleasant view of the garden. He was a
+heavy-featured young man, somewhat gaunt and hollow-eyed from his
+confinement, but nowise repulsive. His lower limbs were wrapped in an
+afghan, but his hands, which held a piece of wood and his knife, were
+strong and capable looking. A table with the material for his work was
+drawn up beside his chair.
+
+
+[Illustration: "_He found Ben Bussey in a wheeled chair near a
+window_." Page 200]
+
+
+"Dr. Underwood happened to mention that you did woodcarving," Burton
+said, drawing up a chair for himself, "and I asked if I might come up
+and see it. I'm interested in things of that sort. That's good work
+you are doing. How did you come to learn carving?"
+
+"Just picked it up," Ben answered. He was looking at his visitor with
+an air of quiet indifference, as though the comings and goings of
+other people could have nothing vital to do with his isolated life.
+
+"Ben's real smart with his hands," said Mrs. Bussey proudly.
+
+"Do you find any market for your carving?"
+
+"Selby takes it."
+
+"Selby the contractor," explained Mrs. Bussey. "Sometimes people want
+hand-carved mantels and cornishes, and things like that. He makes
+quite a bit that way, Ben does."
+
+"I won't unless I want to," drawled Ben.
+
+"Does Selby come here with his orders?"
+
+Ben looked at him with a slow, peculiar smile. "I can't very well go
+to him."
+
+"I asked, because I had an impression that he was not on very friendly
+terms with the Underwood family, and I wondered if he would come to
+their house to see you."
+
+"He don't see none of them," said Mrs. Bussey, with a lofty air. "He
+can come in by the side door and right off here to Ben's room. The
+doctor says as Ben and I shall have this part of the house for our
+own, and little enough, too, seeing what Henry done to Ben."
+
+"Is Selby an old friend of yours?"
+
+"Guess we've known him as long as anybody. When my old man was alive,
+he used to take Ort Selby out into the woods hunting and trapping with
+the Indians. He was great for that, my man was."
+
+Ben looked at his mother with a satirical smile. "He wasn't great for
+much of anything else, was he?"
+
+"That's not for you to say," she retorted sharply. "Here you lay, and
+have everything done for you. You needn't say anything agin your dad."
+
+Ben picked up his tool and board in contemptuous silence.
+
+"That was before the Indians were put on a Reservation, wasn't it?"
+asked Burton.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How did they live? By hunting and fishing?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Anything else? Did they do any kind of work like carving?"
+
+"Redstone pipes, and things like that."
+
+"And baskets?"
+
+"Birch-bark baskets. To sell."
+
+"Other baskets, too, didn't they? I have a lot of Indian baskets at
+home."
+
+"Not from here," said Ben.
+
+"No, you are right about that. But today I saw some baskets an Indian
+woman was selling at the station. They are made at the Reservation,
+aren't they?"
+
+Ben looked up with the first sign of real interest he had shown. "That
+was Pahrunta. She comes down sometimes to sell the baskets that her
+mother makes. Her mother is Ehimmeshunka. She came from another
+tribe,--many moons away, they said. She was stolen, I guess. She makes
+baskets like the western Indians, not like the Indians here."
+
+"You have seen her working, then?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Was that when you were with Selby?"
+
+"Yes. My dad was chummy with Washitonka,--brothers, they called each
+other. Ehimmeshunka was Washitonka's squaw."
+
+"Did Selby learn how to make baskets like Ehimmeshunka?" asked Burton.
+Immediately he regretted that he had put the question so bluntly, for
+a surprised question came into Ben's face. He fixed his somber eyes on
+Burton for a moment before he answered curtly: "No."
+
+And Burton knew at once that the answer was merely prompted by a
+desire to shut off questioning! He tried to turn the conversation into
+another channel.
+
+"Is that work you are doing an order?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What is it for?"
+
+"Bookcase."
+
+"What does Selby pay you for a piece of work like that?"
+
+Ben did not open his lips to reply. He merely looked at Burton with a
+gaze like a blank wall.
+
+"Unless he pays you a fair price," Burton continued, "I might be able
+to do something for you in some place where there is more demand for
+that sort of work."
+
+An unmistakable gleam of interest came into Ben's eyes, though he did
+not answer. But Mrs. Bussey answered for him.
+
+"Do you hear that, Ben? He'll get you better prices. I told you all
+along that Selby wasn't paying you enough."
+
+"What does he pay for a piece of work like this?"
+
+"Whatever he likes," said Ben morosely. Burton saw that he had touched
+a sensitive spot.
+
+"One dollar,--two dollars, maybe. If he feels 'good.'"
+
+"And then he doesn't pay what he says he will," added Mrs. Bussey.
+"It's always come next week, and wait a little."
+
+"Why, that's absurd! I'm sure I can get you ten to twenty times that
+for it. May I see it?"
+
+Ben dropped the piece of wood he held, and Burton picked it up. It was
+intended for a panel in the side of a bookcase, and the design was cut
+out in low relief. It was a spirited sketch of an Indian with a bent
+bow drawn up to his shoulder.
+
+"That's good," said Burton, in frank admiration. "Awfully good. Did
+you copy it or design it yourself?"
+
+"Just made it up."
+
+"What is he shooting at?"
+
+The answer was startling, in view of Burton's theory of the situation.
+Ben glanced at him with a smile that held some hidden meaning. "Selby
+says he is shooting at the brave that has stolen his squaw." Then he
+lapsed back into his former attitude of somber indifference. "I think
+he is just shooting for fun," he added carelessly.
+
+"Can Selby shoot?" asked Burton, trying to draw the conversation
+around again to the subject of Selby's Indian schooling.
+
+Ben lifted himself on his elbow and looked up into Burton's face with
+a grin of malicious amusement. "Not very well," he said, and opened
+his mouth in a silent laugh that struck Burton as somehow horrible.
+Was it possible that he connected the shot through Burton's window,
+which had been talked of merely as an accident, with Selby?
+
+"What makes you laugh?" he asked abruptly.
+
+But Ben would not talk. He turned his head away with a gesture of
+weariness that aroused Burton's conscience.
+
+"I mustn't tire you now, but I'll see you again before I leave. I
+think I can help you to get a better market for your work. Is there
+anything you want now?"
+
+"No. Only to be let alone," said Ben, without looking at him. He spoke
+so indifferently that it was impossible to charge him with intentional
+rudeness. The natural man was expressing himself naturally. Burton
+suppressed an apology as he took his leave.
+
+The door of the surgery was open when he came down the stairs to the
+back hall, and Dr. Underwood, keen-eyed and eager, with a crutch under
+his arm, stood in the doorway.
+
+"Well," he asked. "What have you discovered?"
+
+Burton pushed him gently inside the room and shut the door.
+
+"For one thing, I have discovered that it isn't safe to talk secrets
+in this house unless you know where Mrs. Bussey is," he laughed.
+
+"Yes, she's an inveterate eavesdropper, I know. But we have no secrets
+to discuss, so I haven't minded. She has the mother-instinct to purvey
+for her helpless young,--gossip or food or anything else she may think
+will be acceptable. She wants to keep Ben interested, that's all."
+
+"Perhaps that's all. But she has so much to do with Selby that it
+makes me uncomfortable for her to hear my casual remarks about him. I
+couldn't get what I wanted from Ben. He shied off at once when I asked
+if Selby had learned Indian weaving. I have decided to go up to the
+Reservation to find out."
+
+"Really?" exclaimed the doctor, in obvious surprise. "You attach so
+much importance to this--idea of yours?"
+
+"It is the only definite and positive clue I have found yet, and I am
+going to follow it out. I am satisfied that Selby hates your son. So
+does the mysterious unknown. The Unknown unconsciously ties his knots
+in a very peculiar manner which he must have learned among the
+Indians. Selby has had the opportunity to learn from the Indians.
+There are two steps taken."
+
+"Yes," mused the doctor thoughtfully.
+
+"Is there any one else more likely?" asked Burton. "Have you any
+enemies? Discharged servants, for instance?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Professional rivals?"
+
+"If there is any poor devil of a doctor so unfortunate as to envy my
+degree of success, let him go ahead with his revenge. He needs all the
+barren consolation he can get."
+
+"Then you really have no suspicion to better my own?"
+
+The doctor shook his head. "I have believed it to be Henry," he said
+simply.
+
+"Not the hold-up?"
+
+"Even that might have been,--though I confess that was the first event
+that gave me hope, because it gave me a doubt."
+
+"Then I hold to my theory. Did Selby hold himself up, and afterwards,
+with Mrs. Bussey's connivance, get access to your surgery and hide his
+chain here under the hearth and his handkerchief behind your books?
+Does he write those typewritten accusations on your machine while Mrs.
+Bussey plays sentry? In that case, instead of being a short-sighted
+proceeding, as I at first thought, it is rather deep. The first
+intelligent investigation would throw suspicion upon Henry, who of
+course would have access to your room. In short, does Selby supply the
+venom, and Mrs. Bussey the easy, ignorant and vindictive tool? That's
+what is occupying my mind at present."
+
+"Jumping Jerusalem!" gasped Dr. Underwood. "Aren't there some more
+tenable hypotheses that you have overlooked? Have you given due
+consideration to the possibility that Ben may be the son of an earl,
+stolen in childhood, with a strawberry mark on his arm, and Henry my
+first wife in disguise, and that I--Oh, I can't think of anything that
+would not be an anticlimax to your imaginative effort. What do you do
+for mental exercise when you are at home?"
+
+But Burton refused to be diverted.
+
+"I am willing to accept any other theory, but I am determined that
+the mystery shall be named and known. The police don't seem equal
+to it. I never had any experience in this direction, and I am not
+over-confident of my own abilities, but I am better than nothing, and
+I am going to do something,--something absurd, or futile, quite
+possibly, but at any rate something."
+
+"If you succeed," said Dr. Underwood quietly, "you will have lifted
+the curse from my life and such a load from my heart as I pray you may
+never have to carry for an hour. If I were a king of the old style,
+I'd say: 'Ask what you will, even to the half of my kingdom.'"
+
+Burton was about to make some light reply, when the sound of music
+from the old piano in the drawing-room came in between them. Leslie
+was playing. It was to the doctor's offer of half his kingdom what a
+spark is to a train of powder. The flashing thought it conjured
+up--though it was less a thought than a dazzling recognition--made him
+dizzy. He dropped his eyes, dismayingly conscious that it was a
+thought which he did not care to expose to the keen eyes of the old
+doctor. He stood silent for a moment, ostensibly listening to the
+music. Then he lifted his eyes, and put out his hand in farewell.
+
+"Good night, Doctor. I shall go up to the Reservation to-morrow, and
+may not be back for a few days, but I'll leave my address at the
+hotel, in the event of your possibly wanting me. I'll say good night
+to Miss Underwood as I go out. I assume I'll find her if I follow the
+music."
+
+"Yes, that's the way it seems, sometimes," said the doctor. The remark
+was so unintelligible that Burton wondered whether he had dropped his
+eyes soon enough.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+A TEMPORARY ABERRATION
+
+
+For a moment, as he stood in the doorway, watching her, he had a
+vision. He saw her in the music-room at Oversite, her head outlined
+against the stained-glass window that he had helped Rachel choose,
+while Philip, restless, radiant, pervasive Philip, hung over the
+piano, turning her music, or looking at her with those adoring eyes of
+his. He shook his head impatiently, the picture vanished, and he went
+forward to the piano.
+
+Leslie looked up with a smile, and though her fingers kept on playing,
+that appeared to offer no bar to their owner's conversing.
+
+"It was very wise and kind of you to get father to talking about the
+Indians," she said, looking at him with grateful eyes. "It took his
+mind from these worrying affairs. He has a lot of enthusiasm for the
+Indians and the old times in the woods."
+
+"That's the way we get credit we don't deserve, and miss praise that
+belongs to us," said Burton. "As De Bergerac said, 'I have done better
+since.' But I drew your father out for purely selfish reasons. I
+wanted information. I am going up to the Reservation myself to-morrow
+to make a few inquiries."
+
+"What if something happens while you are away?" she said, in evident
+alarm.
+
+"It isn't likely to, while your brother is in jail."
+
+She looked so dismayed and reproachful that he hastened to make his
+meaning clearer. "Oh, merely because this evil genius of his will be
+too shrewd to try anything on while your brother is so evidently and
+publicly out of the reckoning. I think you are quite safe for the
+immediate present. But at the same time I hope you will be very
+watchful, and if anything happens that is out of the ordinary, be sure
+to make a note of it, and let me know when I come back."
+
+"What sort of things?" she asked, with wide eyes.
+
+"If you see any one hanging about the house, or talking to Mrs.
+Bussey,--"
+
+"Goodness! She talks to everybody!"
+
+"Go on playing," said Burton softly. As she took up the thread of the
+melody with obedient fingers, though wondering eyes, he sauntered
+across the room and then suddenly turned into the hall as he passed
+the open doorway.
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Bussey! Is that you?" he asked. "Did you want something?"
+
+There was a sound of pattering feet, as the housekeeper hurried
+nervously away.
+
+"She lacks invention," said Burton, as he came back to the piano. "It
+would have been so easy for her to pretend that she came to see if you
+wanted another lamp, or something of that sort."
+
+"She is stupid past belief," said Leslie, in manifest annoyance.
+
+"Does her habit of eavesdropping suggest nothing to you but idle
+curiosity?" Burton could not refrain from asking.
+
+She looked startled. "No. You don't mean--"
+
+"Oh, I am of an uncharitable nature, and I am ready to see something
+sinister in anything and everything. I don't want to sow seeds of
+distrust in your mind, but I'm rather anxious to overlook no possible
+agency."
+
+"I can't believe it is anything more than vulgar curiosity," said
+Leslie, after a thoughtful pause. "You know people of that sort have
+so little to occupy their minds that they become inordinately curious
+about the personal doings and sayings of the people they live among. I
+don't suppose a delivery wagon goes by in the street that Mrs. Bussey
+does not know about it, and speculate as to where it is going and what
+it is going to deliver at whose house. If she were not so curious
+about everything, I might feel that this was a more serious matter.
+But--she is so inefficient! I can't imagine her a mysterious
+conspirator!"
+
+"Well, let's forget her. Won't you play some more for me?"
+
+"I'd rather talk," she said. "There are some things I want to ask
+you."
+
+"That pleases me still better."
+
+"I want you to tell me about Philip's mother."
+
+"Very well," he said, but the eagerness had faded out of his voice.
+"What in particular?"
+
+"You are a great friend of hers, are you not?"
+
+"Yes,--an old friend."
+
+"It was to please her, rather than Philip, that you came here?"
+
+"Yes," he said. He knew that something more than this tame
+acquiescence was really due from him, but he felt suddenly as barren
+of invention as ever Mrs. Bussey could have been.
+
+Leslie touched the keys of the piano softly and absent-mindedly as she
+asked her next question. "What does she look like? Is she very
+beautiful?"
+
+"I have always thought so," said Burton. "She is a little woman,
+compared with you,--tiny, but very imperious and queenly. When she
+tells me to do a thing, I go and do it, without any objection."
+
+"What would happen if you didn't?"
+
+Burton laughed. "Goodness knows! I never tried it."
+
+"Is she dark?"
+
+"No, very fair."
+
+"Then she probably looks younger than she is. How young does she
+look?"
+
+"Oh,--as though she had been caught in an eddy somewhere between
+twenty-five and thirty!"
+
+"And would stay there. I see. And she dresses exquisitely, doesn't
+she?"
+
+"That is exactly the word for it."
+
+"Is she contemptuous of those who do not dress exquisitely? Or merely
+tolerant?"
+
+Burton felt rather uncomfortable under these probing questions, but he
+understood something of the girl's mood, and he could not resent the
+trace of defiance that he caught under rather than in her words. He
+therefore answered gently:
+
+"I think that if she likes a person, she likes him whole-heartedly,
+and without regard to the accidental attributes. She will like you.
+She will love you."
+
+"What makes you think so?" she asked, with her searching eyes steadily
+upon him.
+
+"Why,--because Philip does, for one thing."
+
+"But if it were not for that,--am I the sort of girl that she would be
+apt to like?"
+
+"What sort of a girl are you?" he asked, with a smile. He knew that
+her last question held dangerous depths into which he did not care to
+look at that instant. Rachel was so--well, narrow in her social
+sympathies!
+
+"Never mind that," said the girl, and he wondered uneasily whether she
+thought her last question had been sufficiently answered. "Tell me
+something about their place,--Oversite. That is the name of their
+estate at Putney?"
+
+"Yes, and it is quite as important a place as the town that honors
+itself by existing alongside the estate. It goes back to the colonial
+days. The Overmans were Tories during the Revolution, but they managed
+somehow to hold or to recover their estate, and though the family has
+consented to live under a republic, it has always been conscious of
+the graciousness of its attitude. Of course Rachel--Mrs. Overman--is
+an Overman by marriage only. She comes from a Southern family,
+herself, and she has the Southern woman's beautiful voice and sweet
+graciousness. And Philip you know. There is nothing priggish about
+him."
+
+She was silent a moment, considering.
+
+"Is he fond of the place,--Oversite? Would he wish to live there?"
+
+"Oh, unquestionably. It would be difficult to imagine an Overman in
+any other setting."
+
+"Does Mrs. Overman have the same feeling about it?"
+
+"She is devoted to it. She is more of a Royalist than the king."
+
+The broken music that was dropping unconsciously from Leslie's fingers
+crashed into a sudden stormy volume of sound that made Burton feel as
+nervous as though a peal of thunder had suddenly shot across the
+summer night. It filled the room with inharmonious noise for a few
+minutes. Then Leslie stopped abruptly and whirled about on her piano
+stool. There was a threatening storm in her cloudy eyes.
+
+"You understood clearly, didn't you, that my--my agreement to consider
+Philip's proposal further was conditioned upon the absolute, complete
+and unequivocal clearing of my family's name from the reflections that
+have been cast upon it? Under no other conditions would I for a moment
+consider the possibility of entering such a family."
+
+"I understood perfectly," said Burton gravely. "Believe me, I shall
+guard your dignity quite as jealously as you would yourself."
+
+She dropped her eyes swiftly, but not soon enough to hide the rush of
+tears that suddenly brimmed them at his words. But she was staunch,
+and after a moment she said gaily, though without lifting her eyelids:
+
+"You asked a while ago what sort of a girl I am. I fancy I am a sort
+that Mrs. Overman has never met,--a girl who has known humiliation,
+poverty, struggle, and yet who is unreasonably and uncomfortably
+proud. What have I to commend me to her? My accomplishments are
+commonplace,--perhaps not even passable in her eyes. And I have
+nothing else, except a knowledge of life which she would deprecate as
+something most undesirable,--a knowledge that has never come near her.
+I am just one of the great average!"
+
+She had begun gaily, but she ended bitterly. Burton could not help
+realizing, as he watched her eyes, misty with deep feeling, and her
+flushed face, what an exceptional woman she would be in any assembly
+by the one gift of beauty, and yet he felt that she was one of the few
+women who would regard a reference to her beauty as a slur rather than
+a compliment. So he only answered, as lightly as possible:
+
+"You are--yourself! And that is not an average, by any means. And as
+for the knowledge of life that you are inclined to treat so
+slightingly, any real knowledge is one of the precious things of
+earth, and what is more to be desired than true understanding of
+the most important thing the planet holds,--life? You surely know in
+your heart that you would not give up what you know for the most
+graceful ignorance that ever bloomed in some sheltered corner of a
+drawing-room! When your epitaph comes to be written, would you rather
+have it read. 'Here lies Leslie, beloved wife, et cetera, et cetera,
+whose horizon was bounded by the painted windows of her husband's
+colonial mansion, and who could make the most exquisite courtesy of
+any in her set'; or, 'She knew the real things of real life. She faced
+the troubles and the humiliations that come to the men and women who
+are building up the world of to-morrow out of today, and she helped to
+build courage and loyalty and love and good cheer into the work!'"
+
+Leslie listened with held breath, then suddenly she dropped her folded
+arms upon the jangled keys and hid her face upon them. A tremor ran
+all through her slender body. Burton bit his lip as he looked at her.
+He wanted to put his hand out and touch her bowed head, to tell her
+how wonderful he thought her, to comfort her in some way. The impulse
+was an amazing one. It set every pulse in his body tingling. It
+astonished him so that he walked slowly away toward the window,
+wondering what had come over him, and how he was going to keep her
+from guessing that he was liable to attacks of losing his senses. But
+in a moment she lifted her head, with a long breath.
+
+"Don't think me silly. I--believe I am too tired to be quite myself."
+
+"We are all a little overwrought," said Burton, with great relief.
+That was probably what the trouble was!
+
+"You have been so much more than kind that there is nothing for me to
+say about it," she added, rising. "I can't really imagine what I
+should have done if all this trouble had developed before you came.
+You have somehow made it seem possible to go through with it."
+
+"Of course we will go through with it," he answered cheerily. "A year
+from now, you and Philip will be laughing at it." He said the words
+deliberately, to see how they sounded. They seemed to sound quite
+simple and natural.
+
+"A year is a long way to guess," she said lightly. "You are going away
+to-morrow? Then I will say goodbye now."
+
+"Let it be good night only," he said, and held out his hand steadily.
+
+She touched it so carelessly with her own that the act seemed almost
+unconscious.
+
+"Good night," she repeated. And then, as he was turning away, she
+added quickly, "How long has Mrs. Overman been a widow?"
+
+"Nearly a year," he answered.
+
+"Good night," she said again, as though forgetful that she had already
+said it twice. "I think I am a little tired. But--I'll be all right
+to-morrow." She lifted her head with that gallant air of hers, and he
+turned away. It required something of a conscious effort.
+
+He got away quickly, but he did not return at once to his hotel. He
+wanted to be by himself,--though there was nothing that he wanted to
+say to himself. He simply wanted to walk and walk under the spreading
+trees that lined the avenues of the town and--avoid all thinking. The
+moonlight flickered down through the branches very beautifully. He did
+not remember that he had ever noticed before how very beautiful that
+effect was. And yet there was something sad in it. He had not noticed
+that before, either. At least, not since he was in college, and spent
+good time that should have been otherwise occupied in writing bad
+poetry to Rachel. Yes, decidedly there was something saddening about
+the effect of the moonlight.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+BURTON THINKS HE IS MENDING MATTERS
+
+
+"My adored Rachel," wrote Burton that night. "I am having a very
+curious experience. I have dropped into a regular melodrama. I suppose
+there is a plot to it, but so far I have chiefly been kept guessing.
+You will be interested in it, though I know melodrama is not your
+favorite style of literature, because it nearly involves the Underwood
+family. In fact, they are supposed to be the whole head and front of
+the offending.
+
+"I told you that there was some vague accusation of Dr. Underwood in
+the town, which I felt under obligations, as your ambassador, to
+investigate, in carrying out the mission with which I was charged.
+That matter has almost been lost sight of, in the popular excitement
+over subsequent events. A house burned down the next night, and the
+police said the fire was of incendiary origin. Thereupon the public
+jumped to the conclusion that it was set either by Dr. Underwood or
+his son Henry, though as to the doctor I can personally testify that
+he was laid up with a sprained ankle that night, and could hardly
+hobble about his room. But a trifle like that would cut no figure with
+an excited public, eager only to hear some new thing that would make
+its hair stand on end. Then the following night a man was assaulted in
+his own house,--tied to his bed, and warned not to talk about people
+as recklessly as he had been doing. This time suspicion was directed
+to Henry Underwood, and he has been arrested. The young man refuses
+bail, on the ground that he wants to be locked up so as to leave no
+room for charging him with the next eccentric thing that may happen in
+High Ridge. I hope you agree with me that this shows a good deal of
+spirit and pluck, especially as the town jail is a place that no one
+who was looking for downy beds of ease would choose for a summer
+resort. I must tell you that this young man interests me extremely.
+There is no vanity in this, for I cannot say that the interest is
+reciprocated. He treats me with a haughty tolerance that would wound
+my self-esteem, if I did not see that it is merely his manner to
+everybody. He seems to go on the theory that all men are in a
+conspiracy against him, and he will neither ask nor give quarter. You
+will gather from this that I do not believe he assaulted the old
+gentleman in his bed. I don't. Use your judgment as to how much of all
+this you should tell Philip. And speaking of that, I am not sure that
+I fully expressed, in my last letter, my great enthusiasm for Philip's
+sagacity. My admiration for the young lady in question has grown with
+my more extended acquaintance. She is not only beautiful,--as I told
+you in my first report,--but she has a lot of personality. That is an
+attribute which it is hard to more specifically designate, but you
+know what I mean. She has character, so that you feel you could rely
+upon her absolutely in need, and fascination, so that you would never
+be dull in her company, and simplicity, so that you would never weary
+of her. I think it is the artificial element in people that tires us,
+just as it is the artificial in life. The large, simple things are
+always restful. The longer we live with them,--as shown in the sea and
+the mountain and the desert,--the more we come to depend upon them and
+love them. Some people are like that,--large-natured and simple and so
+true that you never have any disturbing perplexity as to what they may
+stand for. She is like that, I think. And I feel that Philip has
+chosen a really wonderful woman for his wife,--a woman who will be the
+making of him.
+
+"You may not hear from me again very soon, for I am going out of town
+on a mission,--a secret mission which may be big with importance if I
+do not miss my guess. Does that make you curious? In short, I, even I,
+am going to try my hand at some detective work on my own account. I
+shall not tell you the details in advance, because if I fail utterly,
+it will be less humiliating to reflect that I have not confessed my
+wild-goose chasing. But if your wishes have any influence with the
+powers that be, do wish me success. I want terribly to pull this thing
+off. Just think what it will mean to that poor, brave girl! Oh,
+Rachel, you will be so proud and fond of her! To have helped in any
+degree to have brought you so rare a daughter is a matter to cheer the
+solitary moments of
+
+ "Your Blighted Being."
+
+
+"My Adored Rachel: This is not a postscript, nor yet is it a mere
+subterfuge to give me a chance to call you 'adored' again. It is
+another letter under the same cover, because I just happened to think
+of something else I wanted to say. Miss Underwood is very proud, very
+sensitive, and, I suspect, more than a little in awe of the paragon of
+perfection who will receive this epistle. I think it would be a very
+'nice' thing, as you would say, for you to write her a little letter,
+telling her how you will love her and all that. Who knows better how
+beautifully you can write when you want to than your own
+
+ "Blighted Being."
+
+
+Burton mailed the letter without reading it over. It is possible that
+if he had applied his mind to the matter, he might have realized that
+it was not exactly the sort of an introduction that would make Miss
+Underwood persona grata to her future mother-in-law, for he had
+intervals of common sense; but his mind was otherwise engaged. So he
+sent the letter on its way with innocent cheerfulness.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+BURTON GOES TO THE RESERVATION
+
+
+It was a barren prospect that greeted Burton when he stepped from the
+train at the station,--the only passenger to alight. A bare windswept
+prairie; at a little distance, a colony of teepees, with fluttering
+rags and blankets blowing about, and a bunch of ponies nibbling at the
+coarse grass; and nothing to mark the hand of the white man but the
+rails which ran in gleaming and significant silence away. A man whose
+clothes were of the indistinguishable color of the sunburnt grass was
+sitting on the edge of the platform which made the whole of the
+station. He was dangling his feet over the edge and whittling, and it
+was this occupation quite as much as his looks that made Burton guess
+him to be a white man. He went up to him.
+
+"Can you tell me where to find the Agent?" he asked.
+
+The man had been staring at him intently as he approached, and now,
+after a pause that made Burton wonder whether he had been understood,
+the man cocked his thumb in the direction of a long frame building on
+the other side of the track. A man was standing in the doorway,
+watching the daily pageant of civilization represented by the passing
+train, and Burton approached him. Immediately the man to whom he had
+spoken slipped from the platform and ran, with a long lope, toward the
+teepees on the right.
+
+Burton presented himself to the Indian Agent, introducing himself as
+an amateur on the subject of Indian basketry, who wished to add to his
+knowledge by studying the art among the Indians on the Reservation.
+
+The Agent, whose name was Welch, evidently found some difficulty in
+adjusting his own point of view to that of his visitor, but Burton
+finally succeeded in convincing him that he was at least sane enough
+to receive the benefit of the doubt, and that there really were people
+who cared to know about what the Indians made for their own use.
+
+"I especially want to see the older squaws who remember how things
+were done in the old days, before they were put on Reservations," said
+Burton.
+
+"Old Ehimmeshunka would about fill that bill, I guess," said Welch.
+"She's old, all right. She's Washitonka's squaw. Their daughter is
+Pahrunta, and she takes baskets and fancy things like that on the
+railroad train to sell."
+
+"I should like to see them," said Burton eagerly. They certainly were
+the very people he wanted to see. Those were the names Ben Bussey had
+mentioned.
+
+"All right; come along."
+
+"Can they speak English?"
+
+"Washitonka speaks fairly well. Ehimmeshunka doesn't need to, of
+course. Pahrunta knows a few words, enough to enable her to get about
+by herself. She probably understands a good deal more than she shows.
+They are that way."
+
+"I shall be greatly obliged if you will act as interpreter."
+
+"Certainly. Hello, here's Washitonka now!"
+
+An old Indian had entered the room so noiselessly that neither of the
+white men had heard him. He was a striking figure, erect in spite of
+the years he carried, and wrapped in a blanket which looked as
+dignified as any Roman toga. In spite of the stolidity of his
+expression, there was unmistakable curiosity in the look he bent upon
+Burton.
+
+"What you want, Washitonka?" asked Welch, in a tone of indulgent
+jocularity.
+
+The Indian continued to look at Burton with a frank interest that did
+not approach rudeness or lessen his dignity. It was hard to say
+whether his curiosity was friendly or not. He seemed a mixture of the
+child and the Sphinx.
+
+"How!" said Burton, with friendly intent.
+
+"How!" responded Washitonka. Then he turned to Welch and made some
+observations in a very guttural voice.
+
+"He says he has come to see the man who has a charmed life," said
+Welch with a laugh.
+
+"Ask how he knows that I have a charmed life."
+
+After some colloquy, which Burton wished vainly that he could
+understand, Welch explained.
+
+"He says he knew, when he saw the smoke rise this morning, that a man
+who bore a charmed life would come to his teepee today."
+
+"Oh, did he!" exclaimed Burton. "Well, tell him that when I lit my
+cigar this morning I knew by the way the smoke rose that I should meet
+today a wise old man with a silver tongue, who would tell me many
+wonderful tales of the old days when the Indian and the paleface
+hunted the buffalo together and were brothers."
+
+Welch laughed, and after a moment's stony impassivity Washitonka
+relaxed into a grin which betrayed his understanding of the white
+man's tongue.
+
+"Good talk," he said briefly.
+
+"Will you explain to him that I want to find out about
+basket-weaving?" said Burton.
+
+Welch evidently found it expedient to use Washitonka's own language
+for elaborate disquisitions of this sort. At the end of his
+exposition, Washitonka approached a step toward Burton and spoke with
+grave dignity.
+
+"Bacco," was what he said.
+
+Burton had come prepared for this emergency, and he produced a package
+of tobacco, artfully allowing it to be seen that there were other
+packages still in reserve.
+
+"Come," said Washitonka, and stalked off toward the sunburnt teepees
+toward which the stray lounger at the station had gone.
+
+By this time the little village was very much alive. Curiosity had
+brought the women and the children to the doors, where they stood
+shyly staring at the stranger. The men scorned to show open curiosity,
+but they all seemed to have business out of doors at that moment.
+
+Washitonka's teepee was somewhat larger than the others, but there was
+nothing else about it to suggest the dignity of the chief. A pile of
+folded blankets and garments filled one corner, and cooking utensils
+were piled in another. But Burton had neither eyes nor thoughts for
+the accessories of the place. His attention was wholly given to the
+little old woman, broad-faced, brown-skinned, who sat by the doorway
+stringing beads. Her face was wrinkled like a piece of leather, and
+her coarse black hair was drawn down behind her ears and tied with gay
+cord. Her small black eyes followed Burton's motions as an animal's
+might. She was so complete and so unusual a picture that Burton would
+very gladly have made the trip just to see her.
+
+Back of her in the teepee a woman was moving about her work,--the
+daughter, Pahrunta. Burton smiled at her and she smiled back in
+recognition.
+
+Welch said something in their own tongue, and the younger woman
+waddled across the place and brought out a large basket holding the
+wares that she took to the town to sell. They were mostly trumpery
+things,--impossible birch-bark baskets and bead-worked match-holders
+and collar-boxes supposed to appeal to the taste of the tourist. But
+Burton saw, with thankfulness, that the large basket which held the
+things was woven with the same strong, peculiar twist that he had
+studied so carefully in the example he already owned.
+
+"Ask them who made the large basket," he said, while he handled the
+gay trivialities with careless hand.
+
+Welch duly translated the inquiry, and said: "She did,--Ehimmeshunka
+here. Made it long ago, she says."
+
+"Ask her if she will teach me to make one like it."
+
+This, translated, provoked only laughter from Pahrunta and a grunt
+from Washitonka. The old, old woman looked on without expression.
+
+"Tell her I will pay her," said Burton, showing money.
+
+It took a good deal of explaining to get the idea really understood,
+and then Ehimmeshunka shook her head.
+
+"She says the winter has come into her fingers and they are like twigs
+when the frost is on them," he explained, with some difficulty. "Now
+she can only put beads on a string like a child."
+
+"Ask if she ever taught any one else when her fingers were young."
+
+Before Welch could translate this question, Washitonka spoke a curt
+word to the woman. His intonation and look needed no translation.
+Burton guessed quickly enough that it was an injunction of silence,
+and this was confirmed when Ehimmeshunka's grin faded into stolidity
+and she took up her work again.
+
+"Old Wash says she never taught anybody," said Welch.
+
+This response and the look he had intercepted gave Burton pause. Was
+he being purposely blocked in his investigation? He did not wish to
+prejudice his case by too much urgency, so he deemed it best to drop
+the matter for the time. He gave Ehimmeshunka a coin, and turned away
+with Welch.
+
+"What do you know yourself about these people?" he asked the Agent.
+
+"Well, not much. You see, I've just come."
+
+"You know their language."
+
+"Oh, yes. I've been in the service for some time, but I was assigned
+here only about a month ago, when the other Agent died. I haven't seen
+all the Indians that belong to me yet. They're away somewhere, hunting
+or loafing, or riding their wild ponies over the prairies just for
+fun. No head for business."
+
+"Then you know nothing of the personal history of Washitonka or who
+his friends are?"
+
+"Not a scrap."
+
+"I'm sorry," said Burton. "I wanted to learn something about the early
+days when they saw more or less of the early settlers."
+
+"Writing a book?"
+
+"You might call it so," said Burton non-committally. (Certainly he
+might, if he wanted to.)
+
+"That old chap, Washitonka, ought to have stories to tell," said
+Welch, with interest, "but he seems as close as a clam. That's an
+Indian trait. They won't talk personalities."
+
+"What did he mean by saying I had a charmed life?" asked Burton,
+returning to a point that had puzzled him.
+
+"Don't know. Said that you cheated death. They have a way of giving
+names like that. Have you had any narrow escapes?"
+
+"How would Washitonka know it, if I had?"
+
+"Oh, there you get me! Perhaps Pahrunta heard talk of it."
+
+But the suggestion did not satisfy Burton. He had the feeling that
+Washitonka knew more than he should--unless posted. Yet how could he
+have been posted? It made him feel that he must go warily.
+
+In the afternoon he visited other teepees under Welch's chaperonage,
+and tried to establish a wide-spread reputation as a collector of
+curios and of stories. He did not go near Washitonka's teepee. He
+followed the same plan of procedure the next day,--and it took more
+self-control than he often had occasion to call upon. He gained one
+point by this method, however: he definitely satisfied himself that if
+he did not get the information he wanted in Washitonka's teepee, he
+might as well abandon the idea of getting it anywhere on the
+Reservation. There was no one else, in this little colony at any rate,
+who dated back to the time he wanted to probe. When he asked why there
+were no old people, the Agent answered tersely: "Smallpox."
+
+That curse of the winter had swept the nomadic tribes again and again
+in their days of wandering, and only the younger and stronger had
+survived to find the comparative protection of the Reservation life.
+And to this younger generation the past had either no value or too
+emotional a value. They had forgotten its traditions, or else they
+refused to tell them to the stranger of today. Burton's inquiry was
+specific and definite: Had any white men been among them and learned
+how to weave baskets? To them it was a foolish question,--so foolish
+that they could with difficulty be persuaded to make a definite
+answer. Why should any white man wish to weave baskets? Could he not
+buy better baskets in the stores, not to mention buckets of beautiful
+tin? Nobody made baskets but old Ehimmeshunka.
+
+On the third day he returned, with as casual an air as was possible,
+to Washitonka's teepee. Ehimmeshunka was sitting in the sunshine by
+the door. Washitonka was smoking some of Burton's tobacco, with an air
+of obliviousness, but when Burton placed himself beside Ehimmeshunka
+and began talking in a low voice to his interpreter, Welch, the old
+Indian promptly laid aside his dignity and came over to the little
+group by the door. Clearly he was not going to allow any conversation
+in his teepee without his knowledge.
+
+There was little opportunity, however, for any asides, since Burton
+was under the necessity of talking through an interpreter. It was so
+cumbersome a method that he resolved to abandon his small attempt at
+diplomacy and strike boldly for what he wanted.
+
+"Ask Washitonka if he knows Dr. Underwood. I am a friend of his,"
+Burton said to Welch. He watched the faces of the Indians as this was
+translated, but he could see no glimmer of responsiveness in any face.
+Possibly it was merely because he did not understand the language of
+their unfamiliar faces any more than he did their unfamiliar tongue.
+
+"Tell them I know Selby," he continued, while he watched Pahrunta. At
+the sound of the name she looked toward him with blank directness and
+Burton rejoiced. He had established communication! But when Welch
+repeated the question in Indian, it brought no response from any one.
+Washitonka merely grunted. Pahrunta turned away and spat upon the
+ground, but that might have had no significance.
+
+"They don't seem to know him, either," said Welch.
+
+"Ask the woman what she calls the man who struck her arm in the
+station when she spoke to him, and spilled her baskets."
+
+But Pahrunta would not answer. She listened as though she heard
+nothing and turned away as though they had not spoken.
+
+"Is it possible that she is still friendly to Selby?" he wondered. "Is
+she so much the savage that she admires him the more for striking
+her?"
+
+Welch yawned, as though the game were losing its interest. "The train
+is about due," he said, rising. "I guess I'd better go and meet it, in
+case there is any mail."
+
+He wandered off, leaving Burton to his own resources. Washitonka,
+apparently satisfied that he was not dangerous without an interpreter,
+lapsed back into dignified unconcern and tobacco smoke. He looked the
+Sphinx more than ever.
+
+Burton was, indeed, helpless. Should he confess himself beaten and
+take the afternoon train back to High Ridge? He was still debating the
+question when Welch returned,--the train from the south having come in
+while he was tossing his mental penny.
+
+"A letter for you!" Welch called, while still at a distance, as though
+the arrival of a letter were a great event.
+
+It was from Ralston, and Burton read it with interest.
+
+
+"Everything is so quiet along this Potomac," Ralston wrote, "that
+Watson is getting more pessimistic about Henry Underwood than ever. He
+has long felt that to lock Henry up would be the quickest means of
+giving High Ridge a long-needed rest, and now he feels confirmed in
+his faith--or in his unfaith, if you take that point of view. I have
+been tempted to stir up a little local ruction myself, just to give
+your side some moral support,--but I am not sure it would be moral
+support under those circumstances. How is that?"
+
+
+"I'd better go back," mused Burton, as he folded the letter. "I'm
+accomplishing nothing here, and I'm wasting time." To Welch he said
+aloud: "Tell them I am going back to High Ridge this afternoon."
+
+Welch made the announcement. After an undemonstrative silence of some
+moments, Washitonka put a question which Welch translated.
+
+"He asks if you will see the man who lies on his back all the time."
+
+"Ben Bussey?"
+
+Washitonka caught the name and nodded.
+
+"Yes, I shall see Ben Bussey," said Burton. "What then?"
+
+Washitonka went to a side of the teepee and from a pile of folded
+blankets he drew out a red-stone pipe, beautifully carved. With an air
+of dignity that would have done credit to a Spanish grandee, he
+carried it to Burton and placed it in his hands with a guttural
+injunction which Welch translated.
+
+"He wants you to give it to the cripple. He says he taught the boy to
+carve pipes many moons ago, and Ben's father ate of his corn and slept
+under his buffalo robe like a brother."
+
+"Thank him for the pipe," dictated Burton. "Tell him I will carry it
+safely to Ben Bussey, the man who cannot walk, and it will speak to
+him of old friends. Ask him if he knows when Ben's father died."
+
+But instantly the mask of reserve dropped over the bronze features
+that for a moment had looked human.
+
+"He doesn't remember," said Welch.
+
+There was no use in waiting for a lapse into memory when ignorance was
+so persistently fostered. Burton rose.
+
+"Ask Washitonka to accept from me this tobacco," he said. "It is in
+farewell. And for the women in his teepee I have brought presents." He
+took from his pocket two small hand-mirrors, and presented one to
+Ehimmeshunka and one to Pahrunta. Old Ehimmeshunka received hers with
+the delight of a child. She looked in it and laughed, and laughed and
+laughed, wrinkling up her queer old face in a manner wonderful to see.
+Pahrunta received hers in silence. She indeed hid it at once in her
+dress with an eagerness that showed its ownership was prized, but she
+did not show the excitability of Ehimmeshunka. Instead, she looked
+steadily at Burton. While he was making his final and formal adieux to
+Washitonka, he several times caught Pahrunta's serious eyes fixed upon
+him. But when he left the teepee she was busy over her work and gave
+no heed to him.
+
+The train went out at four. Half an hour before it was due, Burton
+carried his bag over to the station platform. Then, merely from the
+habit of motion, he began pacing up and down the length of the board
+walk, waiting for the train. He was not in a cheerful mood, for his
+expedition had been a failure, and he was going back to a situation no
+more promising than he had left. As he turned on his heel at the
+extreme end of the walk, a blinding flash of light struck his eyes and
+made him wince. Where in the world did it come from? As he looked
+about, it again flashed dazzlingly into his eyes. A recollection of
+the way in which, as a youngster, he had indulged in the pleasing
+diversion of bewildering the passers in the street with a properly
+manipulated bit of looking-glass, helped him now to form a theory as
+to the present phenomena. Some urchin was having fun with the
+paleface! He looked carefully about, but there was no one in sight,
+nor was there seemingly any place on the bare prairie for a
+mischievous child to hide,--unless it was behind that leaning fence
+which served the railroad for a snow break in winter but which was now
+overgrown with the rank weeds of the summer. As he turned a suspicious
+eye upon it, he caught a momentary flash, instantly hidden. With a
+smile on his lips he sauntered down to the place, expecting to pull
+out from among the weeds some lithe, wriggling, brown-skinned boy, but
+to his utter amaze he found, crouching among the tall weeds, the
+heavy-featured Pahrunta, in her hand the mirror he had given her an
+hour before, and which she had used to attract his attention. Her
+attitude and actions showed plainly that she was anxious not to be
+seen from the teepees, and with a quick understanding of her desire
+for concealment Burton walked on a few steps, lit a cigar, and then
+slowly sauntered back as far as the fence and stopped near the place
+where she crouched.
+
+"Did you want to tell me something?" he asked, speaking distinctly and
+hoping she might be more of a linguist than had yet appeared.
+
+Such seemed, indeed, to be the case.
+
+"You--friend," she said in a throaty guttural, helping her halting
+speech by pointing her finger at him.
+
+"I am your friend,--yes," said Burton.
+
+But she shook her head.
+
+"You--friend--man--" In a rapid pantomime she struck her own arm,
+shrank from the blow, and threw a handful of leaves before her which
+she followed with her eye as they blew away. It was so vivid a sketch
+of the scene at the station at High Ridge when Selby struck down her
+outstretched hand and sent her baskets flying down the steps before
+her that Burton was thrilled by the skill of it. She wished to know if
+he were a friend of Selby's! For a moment he hesitated as to the
+policy of his answer; then, hoping the truth might prevail, he shook
+his head.
+
+"No. Enemy. I follow on his trail. Some day scalp him." He felt that
+it was the proper place for pantomime on his part, but feared his
+ability. But she seemed to catch his meaning, and to his great relief
+she smiled in satisfaction.
+
+"Washitonka friend," she said, pointing to the teepee. "Me no friend."
+She spat upon the ground. "Washitonka hide. Me show." And from the
+folds of her garment she suddenly brought out a small black object. It
+was an old-fashioned daguerreotype case. She opened it and held it
+toward Burton, but when he would have taken it into his own hand she
+drew back.
+
+"See, no take," she said. Evidently she would not trust it out of her
+own possession.
+
+He bent down to look. The case held, on one side, one of those curious
+early portraits which can only be seen when the light is right, and
+then come out with the startling distinctness of ghost-pictures. He
+turned her hand, which clutched the case tightly, until he caught the
+picture. Two young men--rather, a boy and a young man--looked out from
+behind the glass with the odd effect of an older fashion in hair and
+dress. The older of the two had the close-set eyes and narrow face
+that characterized Selby. It was Selby as he might have been twenty
+odd years ago,--a young man under twenty. The other might, he thought,
+be Ben Bussey. Of that he could not be sure, but he felt eagerly sure
+of Selby. He put his finger on the face and looked at Pahrunta.
+
+"Selby?" he said. "The man that struck you?"
+
+She shut the case, hastily hid it in her dress, and drew back among
+her concealing weeds. With the skill and noiselessness of an animal,
+she slunk in among them so that Burton himself was hardly able to
+locate her with his eye. There was no use in following her. If he had
+learned nothing else, he had learned that it is not possible to get
+from an Indian any information except what he wishes to give.
+
+At that moment the whistle announced the approach of the train.
+Pahrunta had timed her confession so that he could not press her
+farther if he wanted to. He walked back to the platform, picked up
+his bag, and swung himself on. As they puffed past the weed-grown
+snow-break a moment later, he looked out, but no sign could he catch
+of the skulking figure he knew to be hidden there. But on the chance
+he tossed a gleaming coin backward toward it.
+
+He found a quiet seat and gave himself up to analyzing the situation.
+Just what had he gained? A few disconnected facts. He pieced them
+together.
+
+1. Old Ehimmeshunka did use in her basket work the peculiar knot he
+had identified in the woven lilac withes and in the knotted cord that
+bound Hadley.
+
+2. Washitonka was either naturally very secretive or he had been
+warned not to talk. The latter theory was strengthened by the fact
+that he had seemed to know something about the two attacks on Burton,
+and by Pahrunta's fear of discovery.
+
+3. Pahrunta had broken the imposed silence, under the spur of
+resentment toward Selby, and revealed the fact that there was the link
+of an ancient friendship between Selby and the red man. The
+presentation of the portrait as a souvenir could mean nothing else.
+
+4. Washitonka had most carefully refrained from mentioning Selby,
+although he had avowed his friendship for Bussey, Ben's father.
+
+5. Yet Dr. Underwood had spoken of Bussey and young Selby as
+companions in the wild early days. They had hunted together and
+together had roamed among the Indians. As civilization caught up with
+them, Selby had dropped the ways of the Indian, while Bussey, more of
+a Bohemian by nature, had gone with them when they went. But in the
+beginning they had all been intimate, and the fact that Ben (if it
+were Ben, as seemed likely) had been taken in the same picture with
+Selby, showed that the intimacy had extended over a number of years.
+Dr. Underwood, too, had formed acquaintances among the Indians, but
+his day, apparently, was later.
+
+Had old Ehimmeshunka, who wove baskets like no one else in the tribe,
+taught her skill to young Selby when he went about among them in the
+garb of that old portrait, trading calicoes "warranted to fade in the
+first wash," as the doctor said, for their mink and muskrat skins?
+That was the prime question, and he could hardly claim that it was
+certainly answered. The opportunity had existed,--that much he _had_
+learned. Had it been used?
+
+"By Jove!" said Burton, suddenly struck by an idea. He leaned forward,
+seeing nothing, for a long time. Then he repeated, in an awestruck
+way, "By Jove!"
+
+The idea had struck him hard.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+GROUND BAIT
+
+
+When Burton reached High Ridge, it was already late in the evening. If
+he had followed his inclinations, he would have gone like a shot to
+Rowan Street, but something that he called common sense interfered. He
+lost no time, however, in hunting up Watson, the chief of police. The
+chief was at home, and was thinking of going to bed when Burton
+called. He didn't think of it again for quite a while.
+
+"I feel as though I was rehearsing for private theatricals," he said,
+with a somewhat embarrassed laugh, after Burton had gone over his
+plans with him in minute detail.
+
+"That's all right. If we get what we want, it will be worth it. If we
+don't, we won't be any worse off than we are now. You understand. You
+will see that Underwood is taken home--not before eleven o'clock--and
+that your plainclothes man stays with him from that minute until
+further orders. And no one must know that he is out of jail except
+the man with him. I'll see the family in the morning and explain, and
+I'll see Selby in the course of the morning and see that he knows the
+news. Then just an hour after he is in the house,--neither more nor
+less,--there is to be an alarm of fire. You will see about that. Then
+I'll see you afterwards and we'll decide whether to go on with it."
+
+"I guess I've got it straight," said Watson. "You are responsible for
+this, you know, and if anything goes wrong--"
+
+"I'll take the responsibility, all right. It will be a busy day, but I
+rather hope something may come of it, Mr. Watson."
+
+Watson cleared his throat discreetly. Of course if anything did come
+of it, he wouldn't mind taking the credit for the result, but since he
+was already committed to a theory on the subject of the High Ridge
+mystery, he didn't care to welcome any other suggestion too
+enthusiastically.
+
+Burton went to his hotel, his thoughts in an excited whirl of
+possibilities. There was a telegram waiting for him. He tore it open,
+and read it twice over before he could focus his mind on it
+sufficiently to understand it.
+
+
+"Arrive at two to-morrow private car. Be ready to go on west with me.
+
+ "RACHEL OVERMAN."
+
+
+"To-morrow!" Burton said, trying to pull his thoughts together. "What
+in the world is the matter? Go west? Well, hardly! Is Phil worse, I
+wonder. Thank heaven she doesn't arrive in the morning. But go west
+to-morrow! Why, what nonsense!"
+
+He did not stop to consider that it was exactly the sort of nonsense
+that he had given Rachel reason to expect of him for the last twenty
+years.
+
+Burton made an early call the next day at the house on Rowan Street.
+Leslie Underwood was in the garden when he came up, and he stopped for
+a moment at the gate to enjoy the picture she made. It would be
+impossible for any one with sensibilities not to enjoy a painted
+picture of a beautiful girl bending before a bed of pansies, her
+summer gown of blue lawn making an effective contrast to the green
+grass upon which its folds rippled, and her hair bare to the sun. It
+would therefore have merely argued brutish insensibility on Burton's
+part if he had not felt the charm of the real thing. Perhaps, however,
+it would not have been necessary for him to feel it so keenly that it
+seemed like a hand laid hushingly upon his heart. He stood staring in
+a forgetfulness of himself that would have been a valued tribute to
+any work of art. Some instinct warned the girl; she turned her head
+abruptly and then, when she saw him, she rose and came toward him,
+strewing the gathered pansies like many-colored jewels along the sod.
+
+
+[Illustration: "_He stopped for a moment at the gate to enjoy the
+picture she made_." Page 250.]
+
+
+"Oh, you're back!" she exclaimed.
+
+It was so indisputable a statement of fact that he did not attempt an
+answer. But perhaps she did not notice the omission, for as she
+withdrew her hand from his she asked gayly: "Well, what luck?"
+
+"I'll tell you, to-morrow."
+
+"Then you have found something?"
+
+"This is the time, Miss Underwood, when I can properly assume the air
+of inscrutable mystery which belongs by all tradition to the astute
+detective. If I had really been up in my part I should have assumed it
+long ago, instead of revealing my actual ignorance so recklessly. It's
+rather late in the day to begin to be mysterious, I admit, but I am
+disposed to claim the privilege for the next twenty-four hours."
+
+She watched him eagerly. "Something is brewing!"
+
+"Hum,--possibly. But please observe that I don't say there is."
+
+"I shall watch you."
+
+"I am flattered by your notice. I begin to perceive that I have been
+even more improvident than I guessed in letting the opportunity to be
+mysteriously interesting slip until now."
+
+She laughed, and stooped to gather her forgotten pansies.
+
+"I believe it's good news! I know you are hopeful, because you are
+gay."
+
+"Perhaps I am gay merely to hide a perturbed heart."
+
+She looked up quickly, questioningly.
+
+"Have you heard from Philip lately? Or his mother?" she asked. The
+question may have been suggested by his words or it may not.
+
+"I received a telegram from Mrs. Overman last night. She says she is
+to be here to-morrow on her way west."
+
+"Here? Oh!" The girl looked startled. "Must I see her?"
+
+"Would you rather not?"
+
+"Oh, I could not bear to see her--yet."
+
+"Then you need not," said Burton promptly, reckless of Rachel's
+feelings on the subject. "She is only going through the town, and very
+likely may not leave her car."
+
+"You are not going on with her?" she asked, with sudden alarm.
+
+"Oh, no, indeed!"
+
+Then, as an afterthought, she asked: "Is Philip with her?"
+
+"She didn't say. She doesn't tell me more than she thinks is good for
+me to know. But I have a bit of news for you. Henry is coming home
+this morning."
+
+"Oh! How is that?"
+
+"He is under guard, of course. But even so it will be a pleasant
+change for him. But it is not to be spoken of outside of the house."
+
+She looked puzzled. "That's all I am to know?"
+
+"At present."
+
+"Very well," she said, with a sweet meekness that made him laugh, but
+with a curious catch at his heart. It is dangerous for a woman to play
+at meekness! She recovered herself quickly, and struck gayly into
+another theme. "Guess who's engaged!"
+
+They had been walking up the path to the house, but at this he stopped
+short. "Engaged? Here? Some one I know?"
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"Not your brother?"
+
+"Henry? Why, no. What made you think of him? It's Mr. Selby!"
+
+"And Miss Hadley?" he asked, in dismay.
+
+"Yes! How clever of you! How did you guess?"
+
+"Wait a minute. Don't go in just yet," said Burton, stopping at the
+door. He led her aside to a garden bench which stood against the wall.
+"I want to consider this. Tell me all you know about it."
+
+"There is nothing more to tell. Mr. Selby hasn't called for our
+congratulations. But the report is abroad."
+
+"Does your brother know it?"
+
+"I don't know." She looked up with obvious surprise. "Why? Why do you
+speak of him?"
+
+"Did it never occur to you that Henry and Selby hated each other so
+bitterly because they both cared for Miss Hadley?"
+
+"Henry? Oh, impossible!"
+
+"Not impossible at all, I assure you."
+
+"Why, he hardly knows her."
+
+"How long is it necessary to know a person before falling in love?"
+
+"I have no statistics on the subject."
+
+"Well, my word for it, it doesn't take very long sometimes. And my
+word for it, Henry was in love with Miss Hadley. I wish we might keep
+him from hearing this news for a while."
+
+"Why, you don't think Henry will shoot Selby at sight for carrying off
+his girl, do you?" she laughed.
+
+"You are a heartless girl to laugh about it. Having some one else
+carry off the girl you love is a much more serious matter than you
+seem to realize. But I am not worrying about Selby. To be sure, It
+would look pretty bad for Henry if Selby were assassinated the first
+day he was out of jail, but Mr. Selby is under the special protection
+of the powers of mischief who are running things here, and I have no
+anxiety on his behalf."
+
+"Mrs. Bussey says that the milkman says that the Hadleys' housemaid
+says that Minnie was up in her room crying all day yesterday," said
+Leslie mischievously.
+
+"For goodness' sake, don't let Henry hear that," exclaimed Burton. But
+the name reminded him of Mrs. Bussey's specialty, and he glanced
+rather anxiously at the open drawing-room windows under which they had
+been sitting. Was it his fancy, or did the curtain stir with something
+more palpable than the wind? What a situation for this girl to live
+in! It was intolerable.
+
+He was looking at her so intently that she looked up as though he had
+spoken.
+
+"What is it?" she asked swiftly. "You are hiding something from me!"
+
+"I am trying to," he said, recovering himself. "I think my only chance
+of succeeding is in keeping away from you. Where is your father?"
+
+"In the surgery, I think."
+
+"I'm going in to speak to him." He left her a little abruptly and went
+to the front door where Mrs. Bussey admitted him with her old air of
+curiosity struggling with timid resentment. Burton returned her look
+with keen interest. Had she been listening at the window?
+
+"How do you do, Mrs. Bussey? And how's Ben? I'm coming up to see him
+in a minute. I have a little present from an old Indian who used to
+know him."
+
+Mrs. Bussey relaxed into a smile, and hurried away, and Burton went on
+to the surgery to find the doctor.
+
+"I don't dare say that my soul is my own in this house without first
+making sure that Mrs. Bussey won't overhear me and betray the damaging
+secret to my dearest enemy," he said, as he shook hands. "She is
+always at hand when I am indiscreet. I wanted to tell you privately
+and with the utmost secrecy that Henry is coming home this
+morning,--very soon. It is a part of a little scheme I am working out.
+He is really to be kept under the strictest surveillance. I wanted to
+explain this so that you would understand the presence of the stranger
+who will accompany him more or less inconspicuously, and not make any
+remarks in regard to him,--say in the hearing of Mrs. Bussey!"
+
+"You are very mysterious."
+
+"I am engaged in the services of a very mysterious family. The point
+is simply that Henry is to seem free, and yet is really to be under
+close guard, and that nobody is to say anything about anything, but
+simply lie low and wait! You understand?"
+
+"I don't understand a thing."
+
+"That will do just as well, provided you are content to remain in that
+state."
+
+"Does Henry understand that he is to be watched?"
+
+"Oh, of course." Burton glanced at his watch, and rose. But the doctor
+detained him.
+
+"What about that basket? Did anything come of that?" he asked eagerly.
+
+"I found the old squaw who made it."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Well!"
+
+"What of it?"
+
+Burton shook his head. "I don't know--yet."
+
+"You still think--?"
+
+"I have postponed thinking till to-morrow. Now I must go up and see
+Ben for a minute; I told Mrs. Bussey I was coming up. I found that his
+father is not forgotten up there."
+
+"You must come back and tell me all about it," insisted the doctor.
+"Stay for luncheon and entertain me. Do!"
+
+Burton shook his head, standing impatiently with his hand on the
+door-knob. "Thanks, but I can't. I have a full afternoon before me. I
+am hatching a conspiracy of my own."
+
+"And you won't take me into your confidence?"
+
+"No! You look out for Henry. He's due to arrive any minute." He let
+himself out, glanced at his watch, and ran up the broad back stairs to
+Ben's room.
+
+Mrs. Bussey opened the door to admit him with an air of embarrassment
+which he did not understand until he entered and found that Selby also
+was in the room. While Burton was surprised, he was glad it had so
+fallen out. It would save him the necessity of thinking up some excuse
+for an interview later.
+
+"How are you, Bussey? Good day, Mr. Selby," he said, taking a chair
+without waiting for further invitation. The men returned his greeting
+rather ungraciously, and Burton guessed at once that he had
+interrupted something in the nature of a discussion which had left
+them at cross-purposes. Selby's face was twitching with nervous anger,
+and Ben looked as morose as a badgered animal.
+
+"I have just been up to the Reservation for a few days, trying to find
+some Indian baskets," Burton went on, feeling his way conversationally
+into the murky atmosphere. "You see your collection inspired me, Mr.
+Selby. And I learn that important things have been happening in High
+Ridge 'while I was away." He smiled significantly at Selby, who
+scowled in embarrassment, and then escaped from personalities by his
+customary way of anger.
+
+"At any rate, there haven't been any houses set afire lately."
+
+"No, nor any hold-ups in the streets, nor any shots fired through
+people's windows," Burton said lightly. "All seems to have been
+beautifully quiet. But I hear that Henry goes free today."
+
+"Goes free?" repeated Selby nervously. "So I hear. Probably they came
+to the conclusion that they didn't have sufficient reason for holding
+him."
+
+Selby jumped from his chair and fidgetted across the room. Ben watched
+him with the hint of a malicious smile chasing the shadows from his
+face. It was Mrs. Bussey who spoke.
+
+"Then like as not some one will be held up or some house will be set
+afire tonight."
+
+"Oh, I hope not," said Burton, with a good show of concern. "That
+would make it look pretty black for Henry. But I hear that Watson
+didn't want to let him out just on that account. Henry and Watson are
+not very good friends, it seems."
+
+"Watson knows the tricks that Henry was up to six years ago," said
+Mrs. Bussey.
+
+"Well, I may be able to get Henry out of town by to-morrow," said
+Burton. "If he isn't in High Ridge, nobody can blame him if Watson's
+house burns after that. I guess it's safe to risk it for one night."
+
+Ben had turned his head away indifferently. He still seemed to be
+brooding over something, and heedless of Burton's talk. But Selby
+turned abruptly from the window where he had been standing, and flared
+out at Burton.
+
+"You seem to be meddling a good deal in matters that don't concern
+you. Did you tell Ben that I didn't pay him enough for his work?"
+
+So that was what they had been quarrelling about! "I told him I
+thought I could get better prices for it," he said. "I think I can.
+Don't you consider it probable?"
+
+"What business is it of yours?"
+
+"None. I am simply meddling, as you correctly say."
+
+"Then meddle and be damned to you. As for Ben's carving, I'll never
+take another stick of it. You can look out for him after this." And he
+flung out of the room.
+
+Mrs. Bussey began to whimper. "Now what'll we do? Selby was mean, but
+he did pay something. And there ain't anybody else that Ben can work
+for."
+
+"Yes, there is," said Burton promptly. "I'll see that he has a chance
+to sell anything he does."
+
+Mrs. Bussey sniffed, but perhaps she did not mean to sniff cynically.
+However, Burton felt that the tide of sympathy was setting against
+him, and he hastened to talk of more cheerful matters.
+
+"I met an old friend of yours on the Reservation,--Washitonka, his
+name is. Remember him?"
+
+"Yes," said Ben impassively.
+
+"He sent you this red-stone pipe."
+
+Ben took the pipe in his fingers and turned it over and over, with
+careless curiosity. "I can carve better than that," he said calmly,
+and laid it down.
+
+"Yes, you carve very well. You have strong and skilful fingers. But I
+think Washitonka sent you the pipe in token of friendship rather than
+to show his skill. He says he taught you to carve pipes long ago. Is
+that so?"
+
+"Maybe so. I have forgotten."
+
+"He hasn't forgotten you. And I saw Ehimmeshunka, who made the big
+basket I bought of Pahrunta. She is old." Burton glanced again at his
+watch, and as he replaced it in his pocket he took out a little wooden
+box. "Here is something else I brought you," he said, crossing over to
+Ben. "It's a box of red pigment. Did you ever try to color your
+carvings? I have seen Indian carvings that were colored, and I thought
+you might like to experiment with something of that sort. It would
+make your work look more Indian. This is a powder, you see, but it
+dissolves readily in water, and it makes a fast color. It's some kind
+of earth, I suppose,--"
+
+"Fire! Fire!"
+
+The cry came so sharply and shrilly across the quiet that Burton
+started, spilling the powder. He hastily snapped the cover on the box
+and sprang to the door. A puff of smoke, acrid and yellow, rushed into
+the room from the hall.
+
+"Your kitchen is afire, Mrs. Bussey," he exclaimed, and ran down the
+stairs. Mrs. Bussey followed in a clattering hurry. The kitchen door,
+opening into the back hall at the foot of the stairs, was wide open,
+and the smoke was rushing out in great volumes. Burton heroically
+dashed into the midst of things, and then in a minute he laughed
+reassuringly.
+
+"No great harm. It's only your dish towels, Mrs. Bussey."
+
+The noise and the smoke had penetrated to the rest of the house, and
+almost at the same moment Leslie, Henry, and a stranger came rushing
+to the spot, followed by Mrs. Underwood and the doctor. Even in that
+moment of general confusion, Mrs. Underwood was calm enough to still
+the turmoil of the elements. Burton could not but admire her perfectly
+consistent poise. Turning her still eyes upon Mrs. Bussey, who was
+exclaiming hysterically over the pile of smouldering towels, she
+dropped her cool words like snowflakes on the fire.
+
+"What matter about a few towels, Mrs. Bussey? There are more important
+things in the world."
+
+"Important, indeed! It's important enough that we might all have been
+burnt in our beds!"
+
+"Not at midday, Mrs. Bussey," interposed the doctor. "We do many
+things in this house that we ought not to do and we leave undone many
+things that we ought to do, but we haven't yet achieved the
+distinction of staying in bed till twelve of the clock."
+
+"How would we have got Ben down from that second floor where he lies
+like a log, if the house had gone?" cried Mrs. Bussey, with a sudden
+access of fury, as the thought struck her. Then she saw Henry
+Underwood leaning against the door-post, a sardonic smile on his white
+face. "You villain, that's what you were trying to do," she screamed.
+"You were going to burn the house down to catch Ben!"
+
+"If your dish towels weren't so dirty, they wouldn't catch fire all by
+themselves," he said insolently.
+
+"All by themselves!" the indignant woman exclaimed. "They were set
+fire to, and that any one can see. It's incenerary, that's what it is,
+and--"
+
+"Come, scatter," said Leslie quickly. "Mrs. Bussey and I want to clean
+up this kitchen. You can discuss the philosophy of events elsewhere."
+
+Henry laughed and turned on his heel. The strange man who had stood
+just behind him and had said nothing through it all, went out with
+him.
+
+"I wish you'd come into the surgery, Burton," said the doctor. He had
+been staring steadily at the smouldering pile of towels, still smoking
+whitely on the floor where Burton had flung them. One might almost
+have guessed that he wished to avoid the eyes of the little group in
+the room.
+
+"In a moment. I'll just run up and reassure Ben." And, suiting the
+action to the word, he ran up the stairs two steps at a time, and put
+his head in at the half-open door.
+
+"A false alarm, Bussey," he said. "No danger. Just a lot of smoke from
+some towels in the kitchen. Were you frightened?"
+
+"No," said Ben stolidly.
+
+"Here's your box of pigment that I carried off. I'll leave it on your
+table," said Burton, crossing the room. His voice shook in his throat
+when he spoke. He came back and stood by the couch for a moment,
+looking down curiously at Ben's impassive face.
+
+"Suppose it had been a real fire, Ben! Wouldn't you have been
+frightened then? What would you have done?"
+
+Ben's face twitched for a moment with a passing emotion.
+
+"I guess that would have been Henry Underwood's affair," he said
+indifferently, and turned his face away.
+
+"Henry is downstairs now."
+
+But Ben made no answer to this, and Burton left him. He ran down the
+stairs and looked into the surgery, the door of which was standing
+open.
+
+"Come inside," the doctor said, pulling him in and shutting the door
+behind him. "What am I to think of this?"
+
+"Of what?"
+
+"You know perfectly well. You are as white as--as I would be if I
+showed what I felt. Where was Henry when that fire started?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"He came into the house not ten minutes ago,--"
+
+"Watson is a man of his word."
+
+"--and went up to his room. Do you believe in evil spirits that carry
+out the secret wishes of men who are--criminally insane?"
+
+"I should hate to say I didn't, because the idea offers so interesting
+a field for speculation that it strikes me it would be amusing to
+entertain it. But what suggests the question?"
+
+The doctor looked at him with miserable eyes. "Who started that fire?"
+he asked, almost inaudibly.
+
+Burton answered in the same undertone. "I did. But don't mention it.
+I'm afraid my reputation might suffer."
+
+The doctor stared at him with such obvious dismay that Burton laughed
+aloud.
+
+"By deputy, of course! I'm not crazy, Doctor, but I confess I am
+somewhat excited. I can't stop to explain further, because I have an
+engagement."
+
+"Engagement be hanged. You are inventing that. Explain what you mean."
+
+"If I hadn't an engagement, I should invent one, to get away from you.
+I don't want to talk to you. And I shall have a continuous engagement
+for the rest of the day. Good day to you."
+
+"Pooh-pooh to you," responded the doctor, derisively. But the
+miserable look had been taken from his face.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+RACHEL APPEARS ON THE SCENE
+
+
+Burton used his room telephone at the hotel to call up Watson, and
+even so he did not give his name.
+
+"It's all right so far. We'll go ahead as planned," he said.
+
+Next he went to the station to meet Rachel. The west-bound train to
+which her car, "Oversee," was attached, came puffing in with the air
+of importance which every one and everything that ministered to Rachel
+came sooner or later to assume. He walked down to the end of the long
+platform, and there was the familiar car, and, what was not so to be
+taken for granted, there was Rachel herself on the steps, waving an
+impatient hand to him.
+
+"How jolly of you to come and see me," he said impudently, as he took
+her hand. For some queer reason, he did not carry it to his lips, as
+had been his old custom. "I was greatly surprised to receive your
+telegram yesterday."
+
+"Were you?" she murmured in a tone that might mean nothing or might
+mean everything. "Didn't you think it was time?"
+
+"Time for what?"
+
+"Oh,--just time!"
+
+"It is always time for you to telegraph me or write me or to come
+halfway across the continent to see me," he said promptly. "Is Philip
+with you?"
+
+"Come inside," she said, and led the way into the tiny drawing-room of
+the coach. "Your things are coming soon, I hope. We have only half an
+hour here. Is there anything worth getting off for, or shall we just
+sit and talk?"
+
+"We'll talk first. Please remember that I don't know yet what has
+brought you here. Where is Philip?"
+
+"Oh, he didn't come with me," she said, motioning him to a seat as she
+took a chair herself. It was a part of her general harmoniousness that
+she always took a chair which was in the right light to show up her
+hair. He used to smile at the trait. It struck him now for the first
+time as somewhat trivial. And as he looked at her, it struck him for
+the first time that she was somewhat trivial as a whole. Rachel
+trivial? It gave him a shock that made his answer almost incoherent.
+
+"Poor fellow!" he said mechanically. "Still unable to bear moving?"
+
+"Philip is greatly improved," she said. She was sliding a jewelled
+bracelet up and down on her arm, and did not look at him. "In fact, he
+is so much better that he has run over to France, with the
+Armstrongs."
+
+Burton looked at her in grave inquiry. "I am glad that he is better,
+but why didn't he come with you, instead of going across the water?"
+
+"Oh, I didn't need him. And he knew that I should pick you up here."
+
+"But surely it was due to Miss Underwood that he should come to her,
+if he were able to go anywhere. Nothing but his inability to travel
+justified my coming between them in this matter in the first place."
+
+"My dear Hugh, I hope you haven't committed Philip in any way to that
+impossible girl!"
+
+He stared at her in silence, absolutely speechless.
+
+"Of course I know you were sent as envoy extraordinary and
+plenipotentiary," she said, with one of the sudden smiles which had so
+often disarmed his protests, "but that was because I was so sure I
+could trust everything to your discretion. And I know you haven't
+failed me! When you discovered that the Underwoods were the principals
+in a _cause celèbre_, surely that was enough!"
+
+He choked down the white wrath that surged upward. The very
+ghastliness of the situation made it necessary that he should be very
+careful. He spoke, after a moment, in almost his natural voice.
+
+"I should not be surprised at your attitude, because I remember
+now--though I had forgotten it until you spoke--that I had the same
+feeling about the matter before I had met the Underwoods themselves.
+After knowing them, my feeling changed. I hoped I had made my
+impressions of Miss Underwood clear in my letters to you."
+
+"You made it sufficiently clear that you had been bewitched," she
+said, with a smile that was not wholly friendly. "Miss Underwood must
+be very pretty."
+
+"Yes, she is. And she is 'nice' in every other way, too. She is a
+brave, staunch, noble woman,--and Philip ought to go down on his knees
+in thankfulness for winning her."
+
+"You are somewhat extravagant in speech," she said coldly. "Philip
+Overman would hardly need to express in that fashion his gratitude for
+winning the daughter of a country doctor of very tarnished reputation,
+whose brother has also figured in the police court!"
+
+"Did you gather that from my letters?"
+
+"No, from the newspapers. The situation has been written up for the
+Sunday supplements. The whole thing is cheap,--oh, horribly cheap, my
+dear Hugh!"
+
+"But, Rachel,--for heaven's sake, what do you mean? Philip is in love
+with the girl,--"
+
+"Fancies of that sort soon pass, Hugh."
+
+"You thought it serious enough when you sent me to see her."
+
+"I was frantic for the moment over Philip, and I would have sent you
+to get the moon for him, if he had cried for it. But it doesn't follow
+that I would let him have it when he got well."
+
+"Has Philip nothing to say on the subject himself?" he asked coldly.
+
+She smiled enigmatically, and instead of answering at once she asked
+in turn: "Exactly what did you say to Miss Underwood? How far did
+you--exercise diplomacy?"
+
+"I didn't exercise any. I told her Philip was dying because she had
+refused him, and I took advantage of every feeling I could play upon
+to win the conditional promise from her that I sent on to you."
+
+"What was her condition?"
+
+"That the mystery hanging over the family be cleared, so that she
+could come to him on equal terms."
+
+"That is,--if their name were cleared? I think you so expressed it in
+one of your interesting letters."
+
+"That was her phrase."
+
+"Then that lets us out," she smiled. "It hasn't been cleared."
+
+"But it will be! Very soon! I am on the track now. By to-morrow I hope
+to show you the Underwood name as spotless as Overman."
+
+She looked at him with unmistakable astonishment. "That you can make
+such a comparison makes sufficiently clear your amazing point of view.
+I hardly think we need discuss the matter further."
+
+"I shall discuss it with Philip," he said abruptly.
+
+"I told you Philip had gone abroad."
+
+"I shall follow him. I must talk with the boy himself. He must have
+some spark of manliness."
+
+"Why are you so provoking, Hugh?" she exclaimed. "What difference does
+it make about these people? Who are they that you should care?"
+
+"I care for Philip's honor," he said obstinately. "That is involved.
+And the girl's happiness is involved."
+
+"I'm sorry," said Mrs. Overman, with a smile that did not look sorry.
+"I'm afraid the matter is out of our hands, though, Hugh. Janet
+Armstrong is in the party. I rather think that you would find it too
+late to interfere."
+
+He looked at her steadily and in silence.
+
+"Janet is a charming girl," she went on lightly. "She will be a better
+match even than Ellice Avery. A year ago it might have been Ellice,
+but it has turned out for the best all around. Janet and Philip were
+engaged the day they sailed. And you must see, Hugh, that there is
+nothing further to be said about it."
+
+Perhaps he did, for he said nothing. He rose and walked to the window
+and stood looking out so long that the lady frowned and smiled and
+frowned again, and finally spoke.
+
+"Where are your things, Hugh? It is getting late."
+
+"My things? Oh, they are not coming."
+
+"But you are going on with me, aren't you?"
+
+"No," he said. "I'm sorry."
+
+"But I counted on you," she cried.
+
+"I'm sorry," he said again, very gently. He could afford to be gentle
+now. "I have important work to do tonight."
+
+"You are going to see that girl?"
+
+"I did not mean that. I have a different engagement. But of course I
+shall see her as soon as possible."
+
+Mrs. Overman bit her lip. "You are very punctilious! Well, I will wait
+a day for you. It need not take you longer."
+
+He shook his head. "It may take me much longer. I shall be in High
+Ridge for some time, probably."
+
+"Then--I'd better not wait for you."
+
+"No. Don't wait for me," he said slowly.
+
+She was very pale, but she smiled. "Then this is goodbye?"
+
+"Yes, for the present."
+
+She did not see his extended hand. She was untangling an invisible
+knot in the chain she wore, so her fingers were occupied.
+
+"I don't know when I may see you again, then, for my plans are
+almost as indefinite as your own," she said airily. "I'm going
+somewhere,--and then somewhere else. When I'm ready to see you, I'll
+let you know."
+
+"Good-bye,--and with the deepest meaning of the word," he said
+gravely. There was no use in ignoring what lay under the scene.
+
+"Perhaps you'd better get off now, Hugh. You might be carried away in
+spite of your resolution,--and I should hate to see you carried away
+against your judgment," she mocked.
+
+"Good-bye," he repeated. Something whirled in his brain.
+
+As Burton watched the train pull out, its jaunty plume of smoke
+flaunting its scorn of High Ridge, it might have been hard to say
+whether he was more angry or more miserable. Perhaps each emotion
+helped to keep the other within bounds. How was he going to break to
+Miss Underwood the news that Philip had jilted her? That was the plain
+fact; and with her sensitive pride, her defenseless humility,--oh, it
+was an outrage. If he ever got a chance at Philip! To woo her for
+Philip had been irksome enough in the first place. To refuse her for
+Philip was something he had not undertaken to do.
+
+But that must wait for to-morrow. He had another matter on his hands
+for tonight; the trap he had set must be sprung.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+HENRY TAKES TO HIS HEELS
+
+
+It was nearing midnight when Burton left his room and strolled out
+with a cigar. His objective point was Watson's house, and it was by no
+means necessary to go by Rowan Street to get there. Indeed, it was
+distinctly out of his way. Nevertheless, that was the way he took. He
+stopped at the farthest corner of the grounds for a moment, and looked
+up at the great house hidden among the trees. If he were foolishly
+indulging in mere dreams, his fancies were suddenly and unexpectedly
+scattered, for while he looked, one of the windows on the second floor
+was pushed softly up and a man's form appeared in it for a moment. It
+was the window to Henry's room. Burton was instantly alert. Henry was
+to be kept under strict guard. Was it possible that he was trying to
+make an escape? A moment resolved the doubt, for Henry came again to
+the window, let himself out with obvious precautions to go softly, and
+then swung himself into the branches of the oak from which Burton
+himself had once looked into that room. With a vivid realization of
+what Henry's escape on this night of all nights might mean, Burton
+vaulted the fence and ran to the tree. He reached it just as Henry
+touched the ground.
+
+"See here, this won't do," he began argumentatively.
+
+But Henry was in no mood for argument. With an exclamation of surprise
+and impatience, he started for the street. But Burton sprang after him
+and caught his arm.
+
+"I say, Underwood!" he panted.
+
+"Confound your meddling, I wish you would let me alone," Henry
+answered between his teeth, and with a sudden effort he wrenched
+himself free and darted off. Burton was staggered for a moment, then
+he set out in pursuit. Whatever happened, Henry's alibi must be clear!
+Henry vaulted the fence, and Burton went over a minute later. He was
+congratulating himself, with some surprise over it, that he was able
+to keep so nearly up with a young fellow who must be about ten years
+his junior, when Henry disappeared. When Burton came up to the spot he
+saw that Henry must have gone between two close-set buildings; but
+there was little use in trying to follow. Henry probably knew his way
+through the town as well as through his own garden. If he wanted to
+elude Burton, it was a very easy feat. And it was quite clear to the
+dullest understanding that this was what he wanted to do. Certainly
+the gods must have set their seal upon the man for early destruction.
+Burton shrugged his shoulders, put his hat back at the customary
+angle, and set off for Watson's.
+
+He had not wished to arrive at Watson's too early, but now he suddenly
+had a panic fear that he might be too late. He hurried on, trying to
+guess his way through an unfamiliar part of the town, and wondering
+what Henry had done with the watchman who was supposed to keep him in
+sight. Had he drugged him or tied him up as Hadley had been tied, or
+merely and effectively killed him? Nothing less would excuse the man's
+failure to keep the watch set. If he had any influence with Watson,
+that man would have justice measured out to him.
+
+Presently he realized that he was in so unfamiliar a part of the town
+that he had practically lost his bearings. He knew the general
+direction he wished to take, but what with turnings and twistings he
+had no idea of the most direct way to get there. There seemed to be no
+street names on the corners here, and the streets were entirely
+deserted. He knew he wanted to go to his right, but he had got upon a
+winding street that ran along the edge of a bluff and seemed to have
+no opening to the right. In order to get out of the pocket into which
+he had dropped, he decided to cut through the yard of the house by
+which he had stopped to reconnoiter. It would, at any rate, enable him
+to get on another street, and perhaps then he would see his way clear.
+Accordingly he jumped the low garden fence and picked his way among
+the vegetable beds and across the debris of a disorderly back yard.
+Apparently the owner of the house was having some repairs done, for he
+stumbled over an empty paint bucket in the yard, and a painter's
+ladder was resting against the house. There was only a narrow walk
+between the house and the fence, but Burton slipped past quietly, and
+thankfully saw that the way on the front was perfectly open and clear.
+
+As he stepped out into the street, he thought he heard a cry.
+He stopped on the instant and listened intently, but it was not
+repeated. There had been some quality of terror in the cry that
+startled him,--or it might simply have been the effect of any sudden
+cry on the still night. He could not be sure whether it came from the
+house he had passed or elsewhere. If any one were in trouble, surely
+he would call again. Burton felt that it would prove exceedingly
+embarrassing if he rang up the owner of the house only to find that he
+bad been waking himself up from a wholly personal and private
+nightmare.
+
+After waiting a minute to make sure that there was no further call or
+sound of any kind, he hurried on. He knew that he was late for his
+appointment, and he might spoil the whole scheme by coming upon the
+scene at the wrong moment. At the next lamppost he found the name of
+the street,--Larch. He knew now where he was. Also, he suddenly
+remembered that Selby lived on Larch Street.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+THE TRAP IS SPRUNG
+
+
+Watson lived in a modest frame house set well back in its grounds and
+shaded by some fine old trees. Burton was thankful to find that he
+had, after all, come with reasonable directness to the place. There
+was no light in the windows to show that any one was up, but he went
+to the front door and tapped softly in a preconcerted fashion. The
+door was opened at once by Watson himself, who drew him into the hall,
+and then guided him through the darkness into an inner room. Here he
+removed the hood from a small lamp, and revealed the fact that there
+was another man in the room. It proved to be Ralston. He looked at
+Burton with a quizzical smile.
+
+"Watson thought it would be best to let me in on this," he said, in a
+low voice. "He knew that I would never have forgiven him if he
+hadn't."
+
+"That's all right. I'm glad you are here," said Burton. He guessed
+that Watson, at the last moment, had needed some confirmation of this
+irregular project, and he was glad that he had been inspired to appeal
+to Ralston rather than to any one else. Ralston had imagination, and
+therefore was better equipped for seeing a truth that is not yet
+revealed.
+
+"I was afraid I might be late," he added. And then he told of his
+explorations in unknown territory and of the outcry he had heard from
+the house on Larch Street.
+
+Watson listened with professional attention. "Did it sound like a cry
+for help?" he asked.
+
+"It sounded like the cry of some one in terror. It might have been
+some one in a nightmare. There was no other sound and no disturbance."
+
+"You don't know the house?"
+
+"No. It was a two-story frame house, narrow and high, with a porch in
+front. It was on the west side of Larch, and the next cross-street
+this way from it is James. I noticed that as I came along."
+
+"Why, that's Selby's house!" exclaimed Ralston. "The plot thickens. I
+don't know why Selby shouldn't have a nightmare if he wants to, as
+well as any other man, but it looks rather significant that he should
+have a nightmare on this particular night, doesn't it, now?"
+
+Watson was looking at Burton with a puzzled air.
+
+"If anything has happened to Selby, we might as well know it," said
+Burton, answering his look.
+
+"I'll telephone to the station," said Watson, and stepped out of the
+room.
+
+"What made you say _to_ Selby, instead of of, by, for, or from Selby?"
+asked Ralston curiously. "What makes you think anything could have
+happened to Selby?"
+
+"I hope nothing has," said Burton abruptly, "--but--"
+
+"But what?"
+
+"Don't tell Watson yet. He'll feel that he ought to investigate, and I
+want to keep him still for an hour or two. But the truth is, I'm
+uncomfortable over that cry, now that I come to think of it, because
+Henry Underwood is loose somewhere in town tonight."
+
+"I thought Watson said he was under special guard."
+
+"He was. He got away--through the window. I was passing the house and
+was just in time to see him escaping, but could not stop him. Of
+course it doesn't necessarily follow--"
+
+"No, of course it doesn't," said Ralston, though he looked serious.
+"Henry wasn't in love with Selby, but it doesn't follow that he
+would--use violence in any way."
+
+"Of course not," echoed Burton. In his own mind he was pushing away
+the thought of Selby's newly announced engagement as though he would
+force himself to ignore its significance. It was like the final bit in
+a puzzle which so obviously solves the whole mystery that no argument
+about its fitness is needed.
+
+Watson returned softly. "I've sent a man out to look Selby's place
+over," he said quietly. "He won't let himself be seen unless he is
+satisfied something is wrong. Now, if you please, I'll take you
+upstairs. You'll have to follow me without a light."
+
+He guided them to a rear room on the second floor with an open window
+looking out into the darkness of the night.
+
+"The woodshed roof is just below this window," said Watson, "and
+there's a ladder against the shed. If any one really wanted to break
+into this house, he would have an easy job of it tonight."
+
+"Houses burgled while you wait," laughed Ralston, excitedly.
+
+"It looks all right," said Burton. "Now, if anything is to happen,
+we'd better keep quiet."
+
+They settled into convenient chairs to wait.
+
+To set a trap is one thing. To catch the quarry is quite another. It
+does not always follow the setting of the trap, even when there are
+tracks enough on the ground to warrant some confidence. Burton
+realized keenly that there were a thousand chances for his failure to
+one for success. And yet something that was more like the intuition of
+the hunter than plain reason kept him quietly hopeful through the
+draggingly slow minutes. He had set the day as the limit of their
+vigil, and though he could not read the face of his watch he knew that
+they must have been sitting quiet for something like an hour when
+there was the sudden tinkle of the telephone bell downstairs.
+
+"Don't answer it," he murmured, as Watson rose softly.
+
+"I must," Watson answered, in the same undertone. "No one outside can
+either see or hear me. It may be something important."
+
+He went softly down the stairs and they heard him close the door of
+the room below before he answered the call.
+
+"I'll bet you something _has_ happened to Selby," said Ralston, a
+quiver of excitement in his guarded voice. "Take me up? Come, now,
+before Watson gets back! I'll make it two to one! In anything you
+like. Three to one! Five to one!"
+
+"Cut that out," said Burton impatiently. "Keep still." He fancied he
+had heard a sound outside, and every nerve was strained to make sure
+of it.
+
+But at that moment the door below opened abruptly, and Watson came up
+the stairs in a hurry.
+
+"You may as well drop this tomfoolery," he said, at the door, speaking
+without precaution or care. "Selby is dead,--stabbed through the
+heart. My men have found Henry Underwood's cuff-button beside the bed,
+and they'll soon have him. That's what comes of your theatrical plans,
+Mr. Burton, and of my cursed foolishness in letting Henry out of jail.
+This is a pretty night's work."
+
+"Oh, why didn't you take me up?" exclaimed Ralston, in a rapture of
+excitement.
+
+"Hush!" said Burton suddenly. He thought again that he heard that
+faint sound outside. Unconsciously he caught each of the other men by
+the arm, and drew them back against the wall.
+
+Was it a shadow that darkened against the sky,--a shadow in the shape
+of a man that swung up over the window-ledge in light swift silence,
+and was poised for an instant against the patch of light that marked
+the place of the window? Something had dropped into the room as softly
+as a cat. There was a moment of absolute stillness. Burton held his
+breath and tried to hush the noisy beating of his heart. Then there
+came the soft scratch of a safety match, and a point of light marked a
+spot in the darkness. Then a candle wick caught the point and nursed
+it into a light, and a man's face was revealed.
+
+Watson's muscles had been tense under Burton's detaining hand. Now he
+whistled shrilly and at the same instant leaped forward and closed
+with the intruder. There was a moment's struggle, and then the room
+was suddenly lit as two men who had been stationed outside rushed in
+with lights. The chief was down on the floor with the man he had
+assailed. For a moment they all fought in a furious mêlée, but the
+policemen met brute strength with brute strength, and the click of the
+handcuffs told the end. Then they lifted the man to his feet, and
+Watson held the lamp close to his sullen face. After a long look he
+turned to Burton.
+
+"You were right," he said, and set the lamp upon the table. His hand
+was not quite steady.
+
+"You don't mean it!" exclaimed Ralston, staring hard at the unknown
+face of the man. "Is it possible that it really is--Ben Bussey?"
+
+"No one else," said Watson, stooping to pick up a bundle that had
+fallen on the floor. It was a loosely tied package of rags, soaked in
+kerosene.
+
+"That's the way the Sprigg house was fired," he said.
+
+Ben parted his lips, but it was not to speak. His teeth were locked
+tight behind his snarling lips. His eyes were set on Burton.
+
+"How long have you been doing this sort of thing?" persisted Ralston,
+studying Ben with a curiosity that could not be satisfied. "Those old
+tricks that we all laid up against Henry,--did you do that, too?"
+
+Ben turned his head at that and looked at his questioner. The look of
+triumph that flashed into his eyes was as plain as any words could
+have been, but he did not answer otherwise.
+
+"Take him to the station," Watson said to his men.
+
+But Burton interposed. He had been watching Ben, and he saw that if
+they were to get anything from him in the way of an admission, he must
+be goaded into speech before he had time to fully realize the
+advantages of standing persistently mute.
+
+"No hurry about that," he said, with a slight sign to the chief. "I
+want to tell you something about how I got on this trail, and Ben may
+as well hear it."
+
+"There are important matters waiting," Watson reminded him, in a
+significant aside.
+
+"Nothing more important than this--now," said Burton. Watson
+hesitated, but drew back, leaving Ben, with a policeman on either side
+of him, where the light fell on his somber face.
+
+"I was first positively convinced that Henry Underwood was not the man
+on the night of the Hadley assault," Burton began, with deliberation.
+"That knotting of the rope was too neat for a man with a forefinger as
+stiff as a wooden peg. You made a mistake that time, Ben. Didn't your
+mother tell you that Henry had cut his finger?"
+
+But Ben refused to be drawn. He lifted his upper lip over his closed
+teeth, but gave no other sign of attending.
+
+"Of course it was clear from the first that the person who was making
+the trouble had easy access to the Underwood house and very up-to-date
+information about everything that went on in the house. At first I,
+too, thought it must be Henry. Then, when I satisfied myself that it
+wasn't, I began to keep a watch on Selby."
+
+"Poor old Selby," said Ralston, with sudden recollection.
+
+"Poor old Henry," said Burton sternly. "He has been goaded past
+endurance. Selby's slate was by no means clear, though I acquit him of
+many of my suspicions. But I am telling you now why I suspected him.
+He hated Henry and was jealous of him. He was a party to the discovery
+of Henry's knife near the Sprigg house, and I thought I had reason to
+believe he had himself dropped it there. He had access to the Red
+House through his business relations with Ben, and Mrs. Bussey was an
+eavesdropper and spy who could easily have given him the inside
+information required. Finally he had in his possession a number of
+Indian baskets and was known to have been much among the Indians as a
+boy. I was certain that the strong and supple fingers that had twisted
+the lilac bushes into a net to hold the Sprigg baby and that had
+knotted the cords into a snare about Mr. Hadley had learned the trick
+of Indian weaving when they were young."
+
+Ben's chest heaved. He was looking at Burton with a look that made
+Watson glance warningly at the officers who stood beside him. Burton
+went on with his nerve-trying deliberation.
+
+"I went up to the Reservation with the hope of finding some one who
+would remember teaching young Selby how to tie the peculiar and
+unusual knot I had noticed. I found Ehimmeshunka, who makes the
+baskets, and the old chief Washitonka, who knew Ben's father, but I
+could not get them to talk about the old times. How did you get word
+to them to hold their tongue, Ben?"
+
+Ben affected not to hear. Watson looked up in quick surprise as though
+he would have spoken, and then checked himself. The others, who
+understood by this time Burton's plan of exasperating Ben into speech,
+said nothing.
+
+"Finally, just as I was leaving, Pahrunta, who sells the baskets to
+travellers at the station, gave me a clue. By the way," he added,
+turning to Ralston, "there was a bit of poetic justice in that. The
+first day I was in High Ridge, I saw Selby rudely strike away her arm,
+when she tried to stop him to speak to him. It was in revenge for that
+blow that she gave me the information I wanted and which I could not
+get from the others. She showed me an old daguerreotype with Selby's
+portrait in it. It must have been an old keepsake given by him in the
+early days when they were friends. There was another portrait in it
+also,--Ben's. Then it occurred to me that Ben was more likely to have
+learned basket making than Selby, because he had an aptitude for
+handicrafts. He had all the opportunities Selby had,--provided he
+could walk. In order to find out whether his paralysis was a sham, I
+arranged with Watson to have an alarm of fire given at such a time
+that I should have an opportunity of observing Ben immediately before
+and immediately after. I spilled a red powder over his clothing just
+as the alarm sounded. I left him alone in the room, and when I went
+back, five minutes later, I saw by the marks of the powder that he had
+left his chair, walked to the head of the stairs to look and listen,
+and gone back to his chair. That was all I needed to know."
+
+Ben broke silence at last. "I should have killed you first," he said
+simply.
+
+"All that was necessary after that was to catch him in the act,"
+continued Burton. "Of course that was now merely a question of time
+and watchfulness, since we knew his secret, but he walked into the
+first trap we set. I told him Henry was to be free for one day only,
+and hinted that it would be bad for his reputation if anything
+happened to Watson, who was opposed to letting him out,--which was a
+fact! It was the old situation; an opportunity to throw suspicion on
+Henry. He took the bait."
+
+"And all these years he has been able to walk!" exclaimed Ralston.
+"The cunning of it! And the patience! How did you always know so
+surely how to strike, Ben?"
+
+Still Ben did not speak. It was Burton who answered for him.
+
+"Mrs. Bussey kept him informed of the gossip of the town. If you will
+recall the several instances, I think you will find there was no
+single case where her prying and spying and his activity will not
+sufficiently supply the answer."
+
+"But the Hadley case! There were so many things that pointed to
+Henry,--the cord he had bought,--"
+
+"And which of course Mrs. Bussey could get hold of. It was well
+thought out."
+
+"And Selby's watch-chain! Did you rob Selby, Ben?"
+
+"Whether he robbed Selby or not, he certainly concealed his
+watch-chain and the other things in the surgery," said Burton.
+
+"And did you tamper with my medicines, Ben?" a grave voice asked from
+the door,--a voice full of infinite sadness and pity. Dr. Underwood
+had entered from the unlit hall and now stood fronting Ben with
+searching eyes. "Did you touch the bottle I had prepared for old man
+Means?"
+
+If those in the room were startled by the doctor's unexpected
+appearance, they were still less prepared for the effect on Ben. The
+determined silence which had been proof against Burton's taunts was
+dropped. His eyes glittered with excitement.
+
+"You thought I didn't know where the strychnine was," he said, with an
+air of careless triumph. "I tried it on old Means just for a joke. It
+was a good thing to know where it was, because sometime, when I was
+tired of playing with you, I meant to kill you,--all,--all,--all! You
+thought Ben was lying there like a log,--tied up--and you didn't know
+that he could get out when you were asleep and tie things up in a
+hard, tight knot,--like string,--tie you all up till you couldn't get
+free!--not kill you at first,--have fun with you first,--" His voice
+sank into a monotonous monotone, and all at once he seemed to have
+forgotten his audience. He lifted his hands and looked curiously at
+the handcuffs that fastened his wrists.
+
+"He's put my hands to sleep," he said, with a childish laugh. Then his
+laugh turned into a snarl, malevolent and sinister.
+
+"I'm tired of playing with you. Now I'm going to kill you and be done
+with it," he cried, lunging toward the doctor. The two policemen held
+him, and he turned upon them furiously, trying to strike them with his
+manacled hands. His face had grown suddenly malignant.
+
+"Let me go. I will kill you all. Let me go. You can't keep me tied up.
+I will get away in the night,--I can fool you all,--"
+
+Watson nodded to his men and they took Ben from the room, still
+shouting his curious mechanical curses at them, like a violent talking
+machine that is running down. When the door closed behind him, every
+man in the room realized that he had been unconsciously holding his
+breath. Burton went up to the doctor and put his hand on his shoulder.
+
+"How much did you hear?"
+
+"I heard your story," he said wearily. "I--wanted to speak to Watson.
+The door was open, and I heard voices, so I came in and saw the light
+up here. I heard what you said from the hall there."
+
+"I can quite understand that this has been a shock to you," said
+Burton, "but it completely clears Henry." He suddenly bit his lip as
+he realized that Henry was more deeply involved than ever before, and
+hurried on. "It is quite obvious that Ben must be insane. He is
+dangerous, and would not long have been content with the minor crimes
+that have amused him so far. The taint must have been long latent.
+Probably hereditary."
+
+"That reminds me," said Watson quickly. "You were wondering why the
+Indians wouldn't talk to you. I believe it was old Bussey. I saw him
+here one evening in that little park opposite the hotel. I haven't
+seen him for years and years, but I knew him at once. I told my men
+to look out for him, but he hasn't been seen since. He's a slim old
+man,--lively as a youngster. Runs like an Indian, with his knees up
+and his head down."
+
+"Then I believe I have seen him, myself," said Burton. "Twice. Once
+the first day I was here, talking to Mrs. Bussey back of your house,
+Doctor, and again up at the Reservation. That explains. He had been
+hanging around High Ridge long enough to know me by sight, and he
+guessed that I was of the other party, and so he warned his friends
+simply to tell me nothing that I wanted to know. I wonder how far he
+was in with Ben's schemes."
+
+"He hasn't been hanging around High Ridge very much since I've been in
+office, I'll swear to that," said Watson. "I know old Bussey pretty
+well, and he knows me. He never would come into a town if he could
+help it. You never saw him hanging about your house, did you, Doctor?"
+
+"No, I thought he was dead," said Underwood. He spoke absently as
+though he were keeping his mind on their talk with something of an
+effort. Now he turned to Watson with the simple directness that had
+endeared him to Burton from the first.
+
+"What's this about Henry's escape?" he asked.
+
+"Why,--Henry _has_ got away, hasn't he?" Watson answered evasively.
+
+"It seems so. One of your men woke me up an hour ago to see if Henry
+were in the house, and when we went to his room we found Mason
+sleeping across the door, but Henry's window was open and he was gone.
+How did you happen to send to inquire?"
+
+"Selby has been killed," said Watson.
+
+The doctor drew a quick breath, but said nothing. The silence in the
+room was so keen that the scratching of Ralston's pencil (he was
+scribbling like mad at the edge of the table) was like an affront.
+Burton moved restlessly over to the open window and looked down the
+way by which Ben had climbed up.
+
+Watson cleared his throat.
+
+"Of course he'll have a chance to explain things," he said, with
+laborious carelessness.
+
+A sharp exclamation came from Burton, who was leaning out of the
+window.
+
+"Watson! Look here!"
+
+Watson was getting nervous. He jumped to Burton's side as though he
+expected an attack from the open window.
+
+"Look here, on the window-sill,--it's fresh paint," said Burton
+quickly. "I put my hand on it. Get a better light. See there,--and
+below there. Those marks must have been made by Ben when he climbed
+in. There must have been paint on his clothes somewhere."
+
+"Perhaps," said Watson, looking carefully at the faint traces on the
+window-sill. "What of it?"
+
+"When I was stumbling through Selby's back yard this evening, I
+noticed a painter's ladder there and an empty paint bucket on the
+ground. There must have been fresh paint on Selby's house tonight."
+
+"My God!" said Ralston, and his tone was not irreverent. "Ben came
+here from Selby's! It was he who stabbed Selby. And he left Henry's
+cuff-button in the room to throw suspicion, as usual, on Henry. It was
+his last coup."
+
+"Perhaps," Watson repeated slowly. "But--where is Henry?"
+
+Like an answer, there was a sharp ring at the door-bell, and before
+any one could move, the house door was flung open and Henry himself
+stood in the hall below.
+
+"I say, Watson!" he called aloud.
+
+"Oh, yes, I'm coming," said Watson, in patient amaze, as he hurried
+down the stairs. The others were at his heels, and all four men faced
+Henry,--if this were Henry who awaited them. There was a sparkle of
+laughter in his eye and a flush of energy and happiness on his face
+that transformed him almost past recognition.
+
+"Hope I don't disturb a secret midnight meeting of any sort," he said,
+glancing around at the group with obvious surprise. "I only wanted
+Watson. Mason let me get lost, and I was afraid Watson would be
+worried about me, so I came around to let him know that I am safe. Do
+you want me to go back home, or would you rather send some one to show
+me the way to jail?"
+
+While Watson hunted for an answer, the doctor pushed in front of him.
+
+"Henry, where have you been tonight? What have you been doing?"
+
+There was an appeal in his voice that no one could have heard with
+indifference, and Burton was thankful that Henry answered at once and
+with none of his old cynical mockery.
+
+"I have been getting married," he said.
+
+"Oh, joy!" murmured Ralston, in the background.
+
+Henry turned to Watson as he explained.
+
+"I heard today, or yesterday, I suppose it is now, that Selby was
+engaged,--that is, that he said he was engaged,--to Minnie Hadley. I
+wanted to speak to her about it, and I didn't see any chance of doing
+it without the whole town knowing it unless I gave Mason the slip. So
+I waited till he was asleep and then I shinned down the tree. Burton
+here tried to stop me, but I didn't have time to explain. I got
+Minnie down by throwing pebbles on her window, and when we had talked
+things over we decided that the best way to make things safe for the
+future was to be married right away. So we went over to Mr. Domat's
+house,--he's Minnie's minister,--and he married us, and I guess it's
+legal all right, even if I am in the custody of the law. Then I took
+her home,--I took her back to Mr. Hadley's house. I was on my way back
+home when I ran across old Higgins, who said the whole force was out
+looking for me. I preferred to come by myself rather than to be
+brought like a runaway schoolboy, so I gave him the slip, and I came
+here instead of going to the station, because I thought this was your
+personal affair, Watson. You put me on my word, and you might have
+known that I was going to keep it. What made you stir up such a
+hullaballoo about my merely temporary absence?"
+
+"Because," said Watson dryly, "during your merely temporary absence
+Selby was killed. Your cuff-button was found in his room. It seemed
+advisable to find the rest of you as soon as possible."
+
+Henry looked so startled and so guilty that Burton interposed. He
+could not bear to see for even a moment the old look of sullen
+defiance on Henry's face.
+
+"Go on, Watson. Tell him the rest."
+
+"Ben Bussey is under arrest. We caught him in an attempt to fire this
+house, but from certain indications, it looks as though the charge
+against him now would be for the murder of Selby rather than arson.
+But if your alibi isn't good--!"
+
+"Ben, you say? Ben Bussey?" Henry repeated, in a bewildered manner.
+
+The doctor went up to Henry and threw his arm across his shoulders.
+
+"Ben has been able to walk for years, my boy. He concealed the fact
+and pretended to be helpless, but it seems clear that it is he who has
+been working all this mischief in High Ridge, and that he has now
+ended by killing Selby. Whether he had any grudge against Selby, or
+whether it was merely another attempt to involve you circumstantially,
+I don't know."
+
+Henry did not speak. His face was hard set to hide the emotions that
+must have surged within.
+
+"You go home with your father, Henry," said Watson gruffly. "You are
+still on parole,--that's all the guard I'll ask for. You will hear
+from me when I want anything more. Now it's so near daylight that if
+you don't mind, I am going to say good morning to you. I have a lot of
+work to do."
+
+The four men shook hands with him and went out. The cool breeze of the
+early dawn was blowing freshly through the streets of the village and
+it struck their faces with a pleasant little tang.
+
+"A great night," said the doctor thoughtfully, looking about.
+
+"And a new day," said Burton, with a smile. "Good night, Mr.
+Underwood, and my congratulations. Good night, Doctor. I shall see you
+to-morrow,--or later in the day, I should say, rather."
+
+"Good night," said Henry.
+
+"Come early," said the doctor. They turned away together, and Burton
+saw with keen satisfaction that they had not gone half a dozen steps
+before they were arm in arm.
+
+"It's good to see that," he said to Ralston, nodding toward the two
+departing.
+
+"Yes," said Ralston. Then he laughed a little. "I wonder if there
+isn't one fly in Henry's ointment tonight,--Selby didn't hear of his
+elopement!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+BURTON'S LAST APPEARANCE AS AN AMBASSADOR
+
+
+When Burton parted from Ralston at the latter's office, the day was
+beginning to break. He went to his hotel, where only a surprised and
+solitary watchman saw him enter. He walked up to the second floor
+instead of taking the elevator, and went at once to his room. To his
+surprise, the door was slightly ajar. He pushed it open,--and faced
+Mrs. Bussey.
+
+"How did you get into my room?" he demanded in his first surprise.
+
+She did not answer that,--but no other answer than the ring of
+chambermaid's keys in her hand was necessary. She cowered away from
+him in the blinking timidity that she had always shown, and then she
+suddenly bristled up like a wrathful squirrel.
+
+"What have you done with Ben?"
+
+"Did you come here to look for him?"
+
+"He should be home before this! Have they found him out? Have they
+found him out?"
+
+"Yes, they have found him out. They have taken him to the police
+station." He spoke as gently as possible. Nothing could make the facts
+less than tragic to her, poor thing.
+
+She wrung her hands. "I wish you had never come here! It would have
+been all right if you had never come!"
+
+Burton could not blame her for her point of view, since wiser
+philosophers than she had held before this that right and wrong are
+merely a way of looking at things. Instead, he asked abruptly:
+
+"What made you take that letter out of my room?"
+
+She stopped her whimpering cry, and with a look of terror darted
+suddenly past Burton, who did not try to check her, and so out of the
+room.
+
+So that matter was also explained. She it was who had brought him that
+note of threat, and afterwards had abstracted it from his room. She
+probably helped the maids at times, and so had the pass-keys to the
+rooms, and she was a sufficiently familiar figure to excite no comment
+by her comings and goings. The whole thing had been a combination of
+cunning and chance, and Mrs. Bussey's low mentality and Ben's insane
+shrewdness might have kept the whole town in hot water for years
+longer if Burton had not come upon the scene. The police had been too
+committed to the Henry Underwood theory to see anything else, until it
+was actually forced upon them.
+
+A soldier forgets his personal wound in the heat of battle, but when
+the excitement is past, the smart comes again to his consciousness. As
+Burton's mind calmed from the excitement of the night, he grew more
+and more vividly conscious of the exceedingly disagreeable task yet
+before him,--to give Miss Underwood an account of Mrs. Overman's visit
+yesterday. It was so inexpressibly irksome a commission that he was
+almost tempted to repeat Mrs. Bussey's wail. Why had he ever come? Now
+that the condition which she had set had been fulfilled, she would of
+course expect a certain urgency on his part for her promise. To tell
+her that his principal had reconsidered the matter and would not ask
+anything further at her hands was so near an insult, under all the
+circumstances, that in his perplexity as to how he was to manage the
+matter he almost forgot to be angry.
+
+As he stood by the window waiting and trying to collect his thoughts,
+he saw Mr. Hadley walking down the street, producing, quite by
+himself, all the effect of a procession. The man was funny, but he
+wasn't half a bad sort! Burton hated to think he should never see him
+again. He glanced over at the Hadley house, and had a glimpse of Miss
+Hadley--no, of Mrs. Henry Underwood, to be sure!--running down the
+stairs and past a window. The haste was explained when he saw Henry
+himself crossing the street diagonally toward the house. She had seen
+him from an upper window! Burton turned from his own window, with a
+throb of interest so keen that it surprised him. He wanted
+tremendously to know how that experiment was going to work out. Henry
+was a babe in the wood,--and the featherheaded Minnie! It would be
+mighty interesting to see how they "found" themselves. And the
+doctor--and Leslie-- He whistled softly and picked up his hat. One
+might as well have the thing over.
+
+The doctor was waiting at the door to receive him, and leaned on his
+arm as they walked to the surgery with a weight that Burton felt was
+more affection than need of support.
+
+"I should have to read up in Oriental literature to get a vocabulary
+to properly express my feelings," he said. "You are the roof-tree of
+my house and the door-sill of my granary, the protector of the poor
+and the defender of the right. All of which means, in plain English,
+that I don't know how to say what I want to."
+
+"I am only too glad that I had a chance to have a hand in the matter,"
+said Burton, "but the chances are that the mystery would soon have
+been solved, in any event. Ben was getting too confident, and
+therefore reckless."
+
+"It was the check you gave him that made him reckless. Of course he is
+insane. Such a long, brooding course of revenge for a boyish quarrel
+is clear proof of insanity. But the insanity might have remained
+latent for years if he had not been crossed. No, you can't get out of
+it. You will have to reconcile yourself to being regarded as a
+benefactor."
+
+"Well, perhaps I can stand it, mixed in with some other memories I
+shall have to take away with me," said Burton grimly. Leslie had not
+appeared, and he knew what was yet before him. "I had a bad time
+getting away from you yesterday when you wanted to make me stay and
+tell you what I was doing. I wasn't sure I was doing anything! I felt
+like a boy who is speculating whether the Fourth-of-July mud can which
+he is watching is really dead or only sleeping. If my mud can should
+go off, I could see that the effect would be wholly satisfying. On the
+other hand, it might be a mud can, only that and nothing more, and
+nothing could be more humiliating than to be sedulously watching a mud
+can which might safely be given to children who cry for it."
+
+The doctor laughed. "The explosion was fully up to the claims of the
+prospectus."
+
+"There's another matter that I am still somewhat in doubt about," said
+Burton seriously. "That's Selby's death. I said to Miss Underwood
+yesterday that I hoped Henry wouldn't shoot Selby when he heard of his
+engagement to Miss Hadley. I am fairly certain that Mrs. Bussey heard
+me and repeated the remark to Ben. Also, it seems that I precipitated
+a quarrel between Ben and Selby about the price of his work. Taking
+these things together, how far am I responsible for Selby's death?"
+
+The doctor turned to look at him questioningly. "Don't blame yourself
+for things you only touch at that distance," he said abruptly. "If the
+little gods use us as instruments to carry out their plans, we have to
+take that lot with the rest. Perhaps there is justice in their
+schemes. We all have to take our chances in this skirmishing that we
+call life,--and death isn't the worst that might happen."
+
+"No," said Burton, with a sigh.
+
+The doctor continued to observe him scrutinizingly, but he spoke
+lightly. "Henry gave me a bad quarter of an hour last night," he said,
+wrinkling his face in his old, funny grimace. "When I found he had
+disappeared I thought for a while that my worst nightmares of these
+past years had come true. That brilliant watch of Watson's didn't even
+know he was gone. The boy may be--well, a problem, but no one ever
+suggested he didn't have spirit enough to climb a tree."
+
+"He will be all right after this. He has been worried by the
+surrounding atmosphere of suspicion into appearing as a problem,
+that's all. If that little fool--I beg a thousand pardons. That isn't
+what I was going to talk about. I intended to say that if your new
+daughter-in-law, who is a very beautiful girl with a sweet nature,
+will only praise him enough,--and I think that is likely to be her
+role,--he will probably be not only happy but good. The poor boy needs
+coddling."
+
+The doctor listened with the glimmer of a smile under his seriousness.
+
+"We all do. It is the great human need." He twisted his face up
+inscrutably as he added: "I hope you will get your share."
+
+"Thank you," said Burton. His heart sank suddenly. He hadn't wanted to
+be reminded of his own needs. "Am I to see Miss Underwood this
+morning?" he asked, facing the inevitable.
+
+"She wishes to see you," said the doctor, somewhat hesitatingly, and a
+troubled look crossed his face. "She asked me to keep you; I'll tell
+her you are here." He rose, polishing his glasses painstakingly. He
+adjusted them carefully on his nose, and then looked over them at
+Burton. "You saw--I understand that Mrs. Overman was in town
+yesterday," he said.
+
+"Yes," said Burton uncomfortably. "She was here between trains only.
+There was no time--"
+
+The doctor raised his hand deprecatingly. "You can tell Leslie about
+it," he said. At the door he paused. "When the little gods take a hand
+in any game, there is no use for any of us to borrow responsibility,"
+he said enigmatically, and hastily departed, leaving Burton feeling
+far from at ease.
+
+He looked about the familiar room with a silent farewell. Here it was
+that he had seen Leslie fired with generous anger at the attack on her
+father. By this curtain she had hidden herself away on the evening
+when that absurd committee came to "investigate," and he had thought
+of her as a jewel whose beauty could never be concealed. Here he had
+stood when the sound of her music came to him--
+
+There was a faint sound behind him, and he turned swiftly to face her.
+She had entered so softly that he had not heard her, and she stood by
+the door looking at him with a shrinking dread that gave him a pang.
+She was very pale, and if the dark circles about her eyes did not mean
+tears, he was at a loss to interpret them.
+
+"What is it? What troubles you?" he asked quickly.
+
+"I am not--" she began. Then she interrupted herself. "Yes, I am
+troubled and unhappy and wretched and ashamed,--oh, so ashamed! You
+will despise me!"
+
+"You are wrong there, at least. Can you tell me--?"
+
+"Yes. I told father I wanted to see you alone. Oh, you mustn't think I
+am not grateful for what you have done, and thankful beyond words to
+have Henry cleared and all the truth of things made known. I am. I am
+so thankful that I shall go softly all my days to remember it. That
+only makes it worse!"
+
+"Makes what worse?"
+
+"My--defaulting! You did it all because of--of a promise I made you.
+And I can't keep that promise. I can't. I thought while it was far off
+that I could, and I didn't let myself think much about it, because I
+was so anxious to have your help, and nothing, _nothing_, would be too
+much to pay for it,--and it wouldn't be, only--I simply can't!"
+
+"Do you mean your promise to Philip?" asked Burton, a light that made
+him giddy coming over him.
+
+"Yes. I--can't!"
+
+"Why can't you?" he asked.
+
+She caught her breath, and something flashed into her face that went
+to his head. It was gone in an instant, but in that instant all the
+wavering lights and shadows and uncertainties through which he had
+been groping were crystallized into white light.
+
+"Then you don't love Philip?" he said tyrannously.
+
+"_No!_"
+
+"Didn't you ever love him?"
+
+"No."
+
+"In that case, of course you can't marry him," he smiled.
+
+"I--don't--want--to marry him!"
+
+"Then how about me? Do you love _me?_"
+
+The crimson tide flooded her face, and she flashed on him a look of
+surprised reproach, but she did not leave the room with the haughty
+air that would have been the proper sequel to such a look, for the
+simple but sufficient reason that by this time he was holding both her
+hands.
+
+"Is there any least possibility of your caring for me? I have been
+fathoms deep in love with you for--for ages! I don't know when it
+began! It has always been! Oh, if you have hated the idea of marrying
+Philip half as much as I have hated the idea that you would!
+_Leslie!_" The way in which he spoke her name really left nothing more
+to be said.
+
+Somewhat later they came back into the story. She drew a little away
+to look into Burton's face with dismay on her own.
+
+"But poor Philip! How _can_ we ever tell him?"
+
+"Leave that to me," said Burton, with a queer laugh.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Red House on Rowan Street, by Roman Doubleday
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 56961 ***