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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-03-04 06:21:14 -0800 |
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diff --git a/75523-h/75523-h.htm b/75523-h/75523-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9f9fe05 --- /dev/null +++ b/75523-h/75523-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13796 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> +<meta charset="utf-8"> +<title>The Achievements of Luther Trant</title> +<link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> +<style> +body { + margin: 1em auto; + max-width: 40em; +} +p { + margin: 0; + text-indent: 1.5em; + text-align: justify; +} +hr { + width: 40%; + margin: 1em 30%; +} +h1 { + margin: 1em auto; + text-align: center; + text-transform: uppercase; +} +h2 { + margin: 2em auto; + text-align: center; +} +h2 + p { text-indent: 0 } +hr + p { text-indent: 0 } +blockquote { margin: 1em; } +figure { text-align: center; } +img { max-width: 95%; } +figcaption { + font-size: small; + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; +} +#titlepage { padding: 10% 0; } +.authorprefix { + font-style: italic; + margin: 2em auto 1em auto; + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; +} +.authorinfix { + font-style: italic; + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; +} +.author { + font-size: x-large; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; + text-transform: uppercase; +} +.illustratorprefix { + font-style: italic; + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; + margin: 2em auto 1em auto; +} +.illustrator { + font-size: large; + font-weight: bold; + margin-bottom: 2em; + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; + text-transform: uppercase; +} +.publisher1 { + font-size: large; + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; + text-transform: uppercase; +} +.publisher2 { + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; + text-transform: uppercase; +} +.copyright { + font-size: small; + font-style: italic; + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; +} +.toc { margin: 0 auto; } +.toc .n { + padding-right: 0.5em; + text-align: right; + vertical-align: top; +} +.toc .t { font-variant: small-caps; } +.toc li { + padding: 0 0 0.3em 2em; + text-indent: -2em; +} +.label { + font-style: italic; + margin-bottom: 1em; +} +.signature { + font-variant: small-caps; + padding-right: 1em; + text-align: right; +} +.article p { text-indent: 0; } +.telegram { font-style: italic; } +.letter { + font-size: 90%; + margin: 1em 0; +} +.notes { + display: table; + margin: 1em auto; +} +.stencil p { + font-variant: small-caps; + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; + text-transform: lowercase; +} +.words { margin: 1em auto; } +.words td { padding: 0; } +.words .n { text-align: right; } +.finis { + font-size: small; + margin-top: 3em; + text-align: center; + text-transform: uppercase; +} +div.chapter { page-break-before: always; } +div.section { page-break-before: always; } +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75523 ***</div> + +<figure> + <img id="coverpage" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Book cover"> +</figure> + +<div class="section" id="titlepage"> + +<h1>The Achievements of Luther Trant</h1> +<p class="authorprefix">by</p> +<p class="author">Edwin Balmer</p> +<p class="authorinfix">&</p> +<p class="author">William MacHarg</p> +<p class="authorprefix">illustrated by</p> +<p class="illustrator">William Oberhardt</p> + +<p class="publisher2">Boston</p> +<p class="publisher1">Small, Maynard & Company</p> +<p class="copyright">Copyright, 1909–1910 by Benj. B. Hampton</p> +<p class="copyright">Copyright, 1910 by Small, Maynard & Company</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="section" id="frontispiece"> + +<figure id="illus8"> + <img src="images/illus8.jpg" alt="A gentleman seated in an armchair + looks on in consternation at a man standing before him with a + placid expression. Surrounding them are three other gentlemen + and a lady, all studying the seated gentleman carefully."> + <figcaption>“I do not know him,” Axton’s eyes glanced furtively + about. “I have never seen him before. This is not + Lawler.” (<i>See “<a href="#front-src">The Axton + Letters</a>”</i>)</figcaption> +</figure> + +</div> + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="section" id="contents"> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table class="toc"> +<tr> + <td class="n"></td> + <td class="t"><a href="#ch00">Foreword</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="n">I</td> + <td class="t"><a href="#ch01">The Man in the Room</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="n">II</td> + <td class="t"><a href="#ch02">The Fast Watch</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="n">III</td> + <td class="t"><a href="#ch03">The Red Dress</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="n">IV</td> + <td class="t"><a href="#ch04">The Private Bank Puzzle</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="n">V</td> + <td class="t"><a href="#ch05">The Man Higher Up</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="n">VI</td> + <td class="t"><a href="#ch06">The Chalchihuitl Stone</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="n">VII</td> + <td class="t"><a href="#ch07">The Empty Cartridges</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="n">VIII</td> + <td class="t"><a href="#ch08">The Axton Letters</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="n">IX</td> + <td class="t"><a href="#ch09">The Eleventh Hour</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +</div> + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="section" id="illustrations"> + +<h2>Illustrations</h2> + +<ul class="toc"> + <li><a href="#illus8">“I do not know him,” Axton’s eyes glanced + furtively about. “I have never seen him before. This is not + Lawler.”</a></li> + <li><a href="#illus1">“Dress!” he enunciated clearly. “Skirt!” Miss + Lawrie answered feebly</a></li> + <li><a href="#illus2">“Oh, try it, Mr. Trant!” she cried. “Try—try + anything”</a></li> + <li><a href="#illus3">After glancing at her hand to see that it was + held in position, he set out a third lot</a></li> + <li><a href="#illus4">“What do you want to see that machine for? + You shall not see it, if I can help it!”</a></li> + <li><a href="#illus5">Welter’s face did not alter; the watchers + stared with astonishment</a></li> + <li><a href="#illus6">“Oh, speak not—speak not again!” he shrieked. + “I will tell all. I lied”</a></li> + <li><a href="#illus7">“What’s all this tomfoolery with steins got + to do with who shot Neal Sheppard?” Chapin blurted out + contemptuously</a></li> + <li><a href="#illus9">The Chinaman saw it and knew that it was + betraying him, but it leaped and leaped again</a></li> +</ul> + +</div> + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter" id="ch00"> + +<h2>Foreword</h2> + +<p>Except for its characters and plot, this book is not +a work of the imagination.</p> + +<p>The methods which the fictitious <i>Trant</i>—one time +assistant in a psychological laboratory, now turned +detective—here uses to solve the mysteries which present +themselves to him, are real methods; the tests he +employs are real tests.</p> + +<p>Though little known to the general public, they are +precisely such as are being used daily in the +psychological laboratories of the great universities—both +in America and Europe—by means of which modern +men of science are at last disclosing and defining the +workings of that oldest of world-mysteries—the +human mind.</p> + +<p>The facts which <i>Trant</i> uses are in no way debatable +facts; nor do they rest on evidence of untrained, +imaginative observers. Innumerable experiments in our +university laboratories have established beyond +question that, for instance, the resistance of the human +body to a weak electric current varies when the +subject is frightened or undergoes emotion; and the +consequent variation in the strength of the current, +depending directly upon the amount of emotional +disturbance, can be registered by the galvanometer for +all to see. The hand resting upon an automatograph +<em>will</em> travel toward an object which excites emotion, +however capable its possessor may be of restraining all +other evidence of what he feels.</p> + +<p>If these facts are not used as yet except in the +academic experiments of the psychological laboratories +and the very real and useful purpose to which they +have been put in the diagnosis of insanities, it is not +because they are incapable of wider use. The results +of the “new psychology” are coming every day closer +to an exact interpretation. The hour is close at hand +when they will be used not merely in the determination +of guilt and innocence, but to establish in the courts +the credibility of witnesses and the impartiality of +jurors, and by employers to ascertain the fitness and +particular abilities of their employees.</p> + +<p><i>Luther Trant</i>, therefore, nowhere in this book needs +to invent or devise an experiment or an instrument +for any of the results he here attains; he has merely +to adapt a part of the tried and accepted experiments +of modern, scientific psychology. He himself is a +character of fiction; but his methods are matters of +fact.</p> + +<p class="signature">The Authors.</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter" id="ch01"> + +<h2>I. <br> The Man in the Room</h2> + +<p>“Amazing, Trant.”</p> + +<p>“More than merely amazing! Face the fact, Dr. +Reiland, and it is astounding, incredible, disgraceful, +that after five thousand years of civilization, our police +and court procedures recognize no higher knowledge +of men than the first Pharaoh put into practice in +Egypt before the pyramids!”</p> + +<p>Young Luther Trant ground his heel impatiently +into the hoar frost on the campus walk. His queerly +mismated eyes—one more gray than blue, the other +more blue than gray—flashed at his older companion +earnestly. Then, with the same rebellious +impatience, he caught step once more with Reiland, as +he went on in his intentness:</p> + +<p>“You saw the paper this morning, Dr. Reiland? +‘A man’s body found in Jackson Park’; six suspects +seen near the spot have been arrested. ‘The +Schlaack’s abduction or murder’; three men under +arrest for that since last Wednesday. ‘The Lawton +trial progressing’; with the likelihood that young +Lawton will be declared innocent; eighteen months +he has been in confinement—eighteen months of +indelible association with criminals! And then the big +one: ‘Sixteen men held as suspected of complicity +in the murder of Bronson, the prosecuting attorney.’ +Did you ever hear of such a carnival of arrest? +And put beside that the fact that for ninety-three out +of every one hundred homicides no one is ever +punished!”</p> + +<p>The old professor turned his ruddy face, glowing +with the frosty, early-morning air, patiently and +questioningly toward his young companion. For some +time Dr. Reiland had noted uneasily the growing +restlessness of his brilliant but hotheaded young aid, +without being able to tell what it portended.</p> + +<p>“Well, Trant,” he asked now, “what is it?”</p> + +<p>“Just that, professor! Five thousand years of being +civilized,” Trant burst on, “and we still have the +‘third degree’! We still confront a suspect with his +crime, hoping he will ‘flush’ or ‘lose color,’ ‘gasp’ +or ‘stammer.’ And if in the face of this crude test +we find him prepared or hardened so that he can prevent +the blood from suffusing his face, or too noticeably +leaving it; if he inflates his lungs properly and +controls his tongue when he speaks, we are ready to +call him innocent. Is it not so, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” the old man nodded, patiently. “It is so, +I fear. What then, Trant?”</p> + +<p>“What, Dr. Reiland? Why, you and I and every +psychologist in every psychological laboratory in this +country and abroad have been playing with the +answer for years! For years we have been measuring +the effect of every thought, impulse and act in the +human being. Daily I have been proving, as mere +laboratory experiments to astonish a row of staring +sophomores, that which—applied in courts and +jails—would conclusively prove a man innocent in five +minutes, or condemn him as a criminal on the evidence +of his own uncontrollable reactions. And more than +that, Dr. Reiland! Teach any detective what you have +taught to me, and if he has half the persistence in +looking for the marks of crime on <em>men</em> that he had in +tracing its marks on <em>things</em>, he can clear up half the +cases that fill the jail in three days.”</p> + +<p>“And the other half within the week, I suppose, +Trant?”</p> + +<p>The older man smiled at the other’s enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>For five years Reiland had seen his young companion +almost daily; first as a freshman in the elementary +psychology class—a red-haired, energetic country-boy, +ill at ease among even the slight restrictions of +this fresh-water university. The boy’s eager, active +mind had attracted his attention in the beginning; as +he watched him change into a man, Trant’s almost +startling powers of analysis and comprehension had +aroused the old professor’s admiration. The compact, +muscular body, which endured without fatigue the +great demands Trant made upon it and brought him +fresh to recitations from two hours sleep after a +night of work; and the tireless eagerness which drove +him at a gallop through courses where others plodded, +had led Reiland to appoint Trant his assistant +just before his graduation. But this energy told +Reiland, too, that he could not hope to hold Trant long +to the narrow activities of a university; and it was +with marked uneasiness that the old professor glanced +sideways now while he waited for the younger man +to finish what he was saying.</p> + +<p>“Dr. Reiland,” Trant went on more soberly, “you +have taught me the use of the cardiograph, by which +the effect upon the heart of every act and passion can +be read as a physician reads the pulse chart of his +patient, the pneumograph, which traces the minutest +meaning of the breathing; the galvanometer, that +wonderful instrument which, though a man hold every +feature and muscle passionless as death, will betray +him through the sweat glands in the palms of his +hands. You have taught me—as a scientific +experiment—how a man not seen to stammer or hesitate, +in perfect control of his speech and faculties, must +surely show through his thought associations, which +he cannot know he is betraying, the marks that any +important act and every crime must make indelibly +upon his mind—”</p> + +<p>“Associations?” Dr. Reiland interrupted him less +patiently. “That is merely the method of the +German doctors—Freud’s method—used by Jung in +Zurich to diagnose the causes of adolescent insanity.”</p> + +<p>“Precisely.” Trant’s eyes flashed, as he faced the +old professor. “Merely the method of the German +doctors! The method of Freud and Jung! Do you +think that I, with that method, would not have known +eighteen months ago that Lawton was innocent? Do +you suppose that I could not pick out among those +sixteen men the Bronson murderer? If ever such +a problem comes to me I shall not take eighteen +months to solve it. I will not take a week.”</p> + +<p>In spite of himself Dr. Reiland’s lips curled at this +arrogant assertion. “It may be so,” he said. “I +have seen, Trant, how the work of the German, Swiss +and American investigators, and the delicate experiments +in the psychological laboratory which make visible +and record the secrets of men’s minds, have fired +your imagination. It may be that the murderer would +be as little, or even less, able to conceal his guilt than +the sophomores we test are to hide their knowledge +of the sentences we have had previously read to them. +But I myself am too old a man to try such new things; +and you will not meet here any such problems,” he +motioned to the quiet campus with its skeleton trees +and white-frosted grass plots. “But why,” he +demanded suddenly in a startled tone, “is a delicate +girl like Margaret Lawrie running across the campus +at seven o’clock on this chilly morning without either +hat or jacket?”</p> + +<p>The girl who was speeding toward them along an +intersecting walk, had plainly caught up as she left her +home the first thing handy—a shawl—which she +clutched about her shoulders. On her forehead, very +white under the mass of her dark hair, in her wide +gray eyes and in the tense lines of her straight mouth +and rounded chin, Trant read at once the nervous +anxiety of a highly-strung woman.</p> + +<p>“Professor Reiland,” she demanded, in a quick +voice, “do you know where my father is?”</p> + +<p>“My dear Margaret,” the old man took her hand, +which trembled violently, “you must not excite +yourself this way.”</p> + +<p>“You do not know!” the girl cried excitedly. “I +see it in your face. Dr. Reiland, father did not come +home last night! He sent no word.”</p> + +<p>Reiland’s face went blank. No one knew better than +he how great was the break in Dr. Lawrie’s habits that +this fact implied, for the man was his dearest friend. +Dr. Lawrie had been treasurer of the university twenty +years, and in that time only three events—his marriage, +the birth of his daughter, and his wife’s death—had +been allowed to interfere with the stern and +rigorous routine into which he had welded his lonely +life. So Reiland paled, and drew the trembling girl +toward him.</p> + +<p>“When did you see him last, Miss Lawrie?” Trant +asked gently.</p> + +<p>“Dr. Reiland, last night he went to his university +office to work,” she replied, as though the older man +had spoken. “Sunday night. It was very unusual. +All day he had acted so strangely. He looked so +tired, and he has not come back. I am on my way +there now to see—if—I can find him.”</p> + +<p>“We will go with you,” Trant said quickly, as the +girl helplessly broke off. “Harrison, if he is there so +early, can tell us what has called your father away. +There is not one chance in a thousand, Miss Lawrie, +that anything has happened to him.”</p> + +<p>“Trant is right, my dear.” Reiland had recovered +himself, and looked up at University Hall in front of +them with its fifty windows on the east glimmering +like great eyes in the early morning sun. Only, on +three of these eyes the lids were closed—the shutters +of the treasurer’s office, all saw plainly, were fastened. +Trant could not remember that ever before he had +seen shutters closed on University Hall. They had +stood open until, on many, the hinges had rusted solid. +He glanced at Dr. Reiland, who shuddered, but +straightened again, stiffly.</p> + +<p>“There must be a gas leak,” Trant commented, +sniffing, as they entered the empty building. But the +white-faced man and girl beside him paid no heed, +as they sped down the corridor.</p> + +<p>At the door of Dr. Lawrie’s office—the third of +the doors with high, ground-glass transoms which +opened on both sides into the corridor—the smell of +gas grew stronger. Trant stooped to the keyhole and +found it plugged with paper. He caught the transom +bar, set his foot upon the knob and, drawing himself +up, pushed against the transom. It resisted; but +he pounded it in, and, as its glass panes fell tinkling, +the fumes of illuminating gas burst out and choked +him.</p> + +<p>“A foot,” he called down to his trembling companions, +as he peered into the darkened room. “Some +one on the lounge!”</p> + +<p>Dropping down, he hurried to a recitation room +across the corridor and dragged out a heavy table. +Together they drove a corner of this against the +lock; it broke, and as the door whirled back on its +hinges the fumes of gas poured forth, stifling them +and driving them back. Trant rushed in, threw up +the three windows, one after the other, and beat open +the shutters. As the gray autumn light flooded the +room, a shriek from the girl and a choking exclamation +from Reiland greeted the figure stretched motionless +upon the couch. Trant leaped upon the flat-topped +desk under the gas fixtures in the center of +the room and turned off the four jets from which the +gas was pouring. Darting across the hall, he opened +the windows of the room opposite.</p> + +<p>As the strong morning breeze eddied through the +building, clearing the gas before it, while Reiland with +tears streaming from his eyes knelt by the body of his +lifelong friend, it lifted from a metal tray upon the +desk scores of fragments of charred paper which +scattered over the room, over the floor and furniture, +over even the couch where the still figure lay, with its +white face drawn and contorted.</p> + +<p>Reiland arose and touched his old friend’s hand, +his voice breaking. “He has been dead for hours. +Oh, Lawrie!”</p> + +<p>He caught to him the trembling, horrified girl, and +she burst into sobs against his shoulder. Then, while +the two men stood beside the dead body of him in +whose charge had been all finances of this great +institution, their eyes met, and in those of Trant was a +silent question. Reddening and paling by turns, +Reiland answered it, “No, Trant, nothing lies behind +this death. Whether it was of purpose or by accident, +no secret, no disgrace, drove him to it. That I +know.”</p> + +<p>The young man’s oddly mismated eyes glowed into +his, questioningly. “We must get President Joslyn,” +Reiland said. “And Margaret,” he lifted the girl’s +head from his shoulder, while she shuddered and clung +to him, “you must go home. Do you feel able to go +home alone, dearie? Everything that is necessary +here shall be done.”</p> + +<p>She gathered herself together, choked and nodded. +Reiland led her to the door, and she hurried away, +sobbing.</p> + +<p>While Trant was at the telephone Dr. Reiland swept +the fragments of glass across the sill, and closed the +door and windows.</p> + +<p>Already feet were sounding in the corridors; and +the rooms about were fast filling before Trant made +out the president’s thin figure bending against the +wind as he hurried across the campus.</p> + +<p>Dr. Joslyn’s swift glance as Trant opened the door +to him—a glance which, in spite of the student pallor +of his high-boned face, marked the man of +action—considered and comprehended all.</p> + +<p>“So it has come to this,” he said, sadly. “But—who +laid Lawrie there?” he asked sharply after an +instant.</p> + +<p>“He laid himself there,” Reiland softly replied. +“It was there we found him.”</p> + +<p>Trant put his finger on a scratch on the wall paper +made by the sharp corner of the davenport lounge; +the corner was still white with plaster. Plainly, the +lounge had been violently pushed out of its position, +scratching the paper.</p> + +<p>Dr. Joslyn’s eyes passed on about the room, passed +by Reiland’s appeal, met Trant’s direct look and followed +it to the smaller desk beside the dead treasurer’s. +He opened the door to his own office.</p> + +<p>“When Mr. Harrison comes,” he commanded, +speaking of Dr. Lawrie’s secretary and assistant, “tell +him I wish to see him. The treasurer’s office will not +be opened this morning.”</p> + +<p>“Harrison is late,” he commented, as he returned +to the others. “He usually is here by seven-thirty. +We must notify Branower also.” He picked up the +telephone and called Branower, the president of the +board of trustees, asking him merely to come to the +treasurer’s office at once.</p> + +<p>“Now give me the particulars,” the president said, +turning to Trant.</p> + +<p>“They are all before you,” Trant replied briefly. +“The room was filled with gas. These four outlets +of the fixture were turned full on. And besides,” he +touched now with his fingers four tips with composition +ends to regulate the flow, which lay upon the table, +“these tips had been removed, probably with these +pincers that lie beside them. Where the nippers came +from I do not know.”</p> + +<p>“They belong here,” Joslyn answered, absently. +“Lawrie had the tinkering habit.” He opened a +lower desk drawer, filled with tools and nails and +screws, and dropped the nippers into it.</p> + +<p>“The door was locked inside?” inquired the +president.</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is a spring lock,” Trant answered.</p> + +<p>“And he had been burning papers.” The +president pointed quietly to the metal tray.</p> + +<p>Dr. Reiland winced.</p> + +<p>“Some one had been burning papers,” Trant softly +interpolated.</p> + +<p>“Some one?” The president looked up sharply.</p> + +<p>“These ashes were all in the tray, I think,” Trant +contented himself with answering. “They scattered +when I opened the windows.”</p> + +<p>Joslyn lifted a stiletto letter-opener from the desk +and tried to separate, so as to read, the carbonized +ashes left in the tray. They fell into a thousand +pieces; and as he gave up the hopeless attempt to +decipher the writing on them, suddenly the young +assistant bent before the couch, slipped his hand under +the body, and drew out a crumpled paper. It was a +recently canceled note for twenty thousand dollars +drawn on the University regularly and signed by Dr. +Lawrie, as treasurer. But as the young psychologist +started to study it more closely, President Joslyn’s hand +closed over it and took it from Trant’s grasp. The +president himself merely glanced at it; then, with +whitening face, folded it carefully and put it in his +pocket.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter, Joslyn?” Dr. Reiland started +up.</p> + +<p>“A note,” the president answered shortly. He +took a turn or two nervously up and down the room, +paused and stared down at the face of the man upon +the couch; then turned almost pityingly to the old +professor.</p> + +<p>“Reiland,” he said compassionately, “I must tell +you that this shocking affair is not the surprise to me +that it seems to have been to you. I have known for +two weeks, and Branower has known for nearly as +long—for I took him into my confidence—that there +were irregularities in the treasurer’s office. I +questioned Lawrie about it when I first stumbled upon the +evidence. To my surprise, Lawrie—one of my oldest +personal friends and certainly the man of all men +in whose perfect honesty I trusted most implicitly—refused +to reply to my questions. He would neither +admit nor deny the truth of my accusations; and he +begged me almost tearfully to say nothing about the +matter until the meeting of the trustees to-morrow +night. I understood from him that at, or before, the +trustees’ meeting he would have an explanation to +make to me; I did not dream, Reiland, that he would +make instead this”—he motioned to the figure on the +couch, “this confession! This note,” he nervously +unfolded the paper again, “is drawn for twenty thousand +dollars. I recall the circumstances of it clearly, +Reiland; and I remember that it was authorized by +the trustees for two thousand dollars, not twenty.”</p> + +<p>“But it has been canceled. See, he paid it! And +these,” the old professor pointed in protest to the ashes +in the tray, “if these, too, were notes—raised, as you +clearly accuse—he must have paid them. They were +returned.”</p> + +<p>“Paid? Yes!” Dr. Joslyn’s voice rang accusingly. +“Paid from the university funds! The examination +which I made personally of his books, unknown to +Lawrie—for I could not confess at first to my old +friend the suspicions I held against him—showed that +he had methodically entered the notes at the amounts +we authorized, and later entered them again at their +face amounts as he paid them. The total discrepancy +exceeds one hundred thousand dollars!”</p> + +<p>“Hush!” Reiland was upon him. “Hush.”</p> + +<p>The morning was advancing. The halls resounded +with the tread of students passing to recitation rooms.</p> + +<p>Trant’s eyes had registered all the room, and now +measured Joslyn and Dr. Reiland. They had ceased +to be trusted men and friends of his as, with the +quick analysis that the old professor had so admired +in his young assistant, he incorporated them in his +problem.</p> + +<p>“Who filled this out?” Trant had taken the paper +from the hand of the president and asked this +question suddenly.</p> + +<p>“Harrison. It was the custom. The signature is +Lawrie’s, and the note is regular. Oh, there can be +no doubt, Reiland!”</p> + +<p>“No, no!” the old man objected. “James Lawrie +was not a thief!”</p> + +<p>“How else can it be? The tips taken from the +fixture, the keyhole plugged with paper, the +shutters—never closed before for ten years—fastened within, +the door locked! Burned notes, the single one left +signed in his own hand! And all this on the very +day before his books must have been presented to the +trustees! You must face it, Reiland—you, who have +been closer to Lawrie than any other man—face it as +I do! Lawrie is a suicide—a hundred thousand +dollars short in his accounts!”</p> + +<p>“I have been close to him,” the old man answered +bravely. “You and I, Joslyn, were almost his only +friends. Lawrie’s life has been open as the day; and +we at least should know that there can have been no +disgraceful reason for his death.</p> + +<p>“Luther,” the old professor turned, stretching out +his hands pleadingly to his young assistant, as he saw +that the face of the president did not soften, “Do you, +too, believe this? It is not so! Oh, my boy, just +before this terrible thing, you were telling me of the +new training which could be used to clear the innocent +and prove the guilty. I thought it braggadocio. I +scoffed at your ideas. But if your words were truth, +now prove them. Take this shame from this +innocent man.”</p> + +<p>The young man sprang to his friend as he tottered. +“Dr. Reiland, I <em>shall</em> clear him!” he promised wildly. +“I shall prove, I swear, not only that Dr. Lawrie was +not a thief, but—he was not even a suicide!”</p> + +<p>“What madness is this, Trant,” the president demanded +impatiently, “when the facts are so plain +before us?”</p> + +<p>“So plain, Dr. Joslyn? Yes,” the young man rejoined, +“very plain indeed—the fact that <em>before</em> the +papers were burned, <em>before</em> the gas was turned on or +the tips taken from the fixture, <em>before</em> that door was +slammed and the spring lock fastened it from the +outside—Dr. Lawrie was dead and was laid upon that +lounge!”</p> + +<p>“What? What—what, Trant?” Reiland and the +president exclaimed together. But the young man +addressed himself only to the president.</p> + +<p>“You yourself, sir, before we told you how we +found him, saw that Dr. Lawrie had not himself lain +down, but had been laid upon the lounge. He is not +light; some one almost dropped him there, since the +edge of the lounge cut the plaster on the wall. The +single note not burned lay under his body, where it could +scarcely have escaped if the notes were burned first; +where it would most surely have been overlooked if +the body already lay there. Gas would not be pouring +out during the burning, so the tips were probably +taken off later. It must have struck you how theatric +all this is, that some one has thought of its effect, that +some one has arranged this room, and, leaving Lawrie +dead, has gone away, closing the spring lock—”</p> + +<p>“Luther!” Dr. Reiland had risen, his hands +stretched out before him. “You are charging +murder!”</p> + +<p>“Wait!” Dr. Joslyn was standing by the window, +and his eyes had caught the swift approach of a +limousine automobile which, with its plate glass +shimmering in the sun, was taking the broad sweep into +the driveway. As it slowed before the entrance, the +president swung back to those in the room.</p> + +<p>“We two,” he said, “were Lawrie’s nearest +friends—he had but one other. Branower is coming now. +Go down and prepare him, Trant. His wife is with +him. She must not come up.”</p> + +<p>Trant hurried down without comment. Through +the window of the car he could see the profile of a +woman, and beyond it the broad, powerful face of a +man, with sandy beard parted and brushed after a +foreign fashion. Branower had succeeded his father as +president of the board of trustees of the university. +At least half a dozen of the surrounding buildings had +been erected by the elder Branower, and practically +his entire fortune had been bequeathed to the +university.</p> + +<p>“Well, Trant, what is it?” the trustee asked. He +had opened the door of the limousine and was +preparing to descend.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Branower,” Trant replied, “Dr. Lawrie was +found this morning dead in his office.”</p> + +<p>“Dead? This morning?” A muddy grayness appeared +under the flush of Branower’s cheeks. “Why! +I was coming to see him—even before I heard from +Joslyn. What was the cause?”</p> + +<p>“The room was filled with gas.”</p> + +<p>“Asphyxiation!”</p> + +<p>“An accident?” the woman asked, leaning forward. +Even as she whitened with the horror of this news, +Trant found himself wondering at her beauty. Every +feature was so perfect, so flawless, and her manner +so sweet and full of charm that, at this first close sight +of her, Trant found himself excusing and approving +Branower’s marriage. She was an unknown American +girl, whom Branower had met in Paris and had +brought back to reign socially over this proud university +suburb where his father’s friends and associates had +had to accept her and—criticise.</p> + +<p>“Dr. Lawrie asphyxiated,” she repeated, +“accidentally, Mr. Trant?”</p> + +<p>“We—hope so, Mrs. Branower.”</p> + +<p>“There is no clew to the perpetrator?”</p> + +<p>“Why, if it was an accident, Mrs. Branower, there +was no perpetrator.”</p> + +<p>“Cora!” Branower ejaculated.</p> + +<p>“How silly of me!” She flushed prettily. “But +Dr. Lawrie’s lovely daughter; what a shock to her!”</p> + +<p>Branower touched Trant upon the arm. After his +first personal shock, he had become at once a trustee—the +trustee of the university whose treasurer lay dead +in his office just as his accounts were to be submitted +to the board. He dismissed his wife hurriedly. +“Now, Trant, let us go up.”</p> + +<p>President Joslyn met Branower’s grasp mechanically +and acquainted the president of the trustees, almost +curtly, with the facts as he had found them.</p> + +<p>Then the eyes of the two men met significantly.</p> + +<p>“It seems, Joslyn,” Branower used almost the same +words that Joslyn had used just before his arrival, +“like a—confession! It is suicide?” the president +of the trustees was revolting at the charge.</p> + +<p>“I can see no other solution,” the president +replied, “though Mr. Trant—”</p> + +<p>“And I might have saved this, at least!” The +trustee’s face had grown white as he looked down at the +man on the couch. “Oh, Lawrie, why did I put you +off to the last moment?”</p> + +<p>He turned, fumbling in his pocket for a letter. “He +sent this Saturday,” he confessed, pitifully. “I +should have come to him at once, but I could not +suspect this.”</p> + +<p>Joslyn read the letter through with a look of +increased conviction. It was in the clear hand of the +dead treasurer. “This settles all,” he said, decidedly, +and he re-read it aloud:</p> + +<blockquote class="missive"> + + <p>Dear Branower: I pray you, as you have pity for a + man with sixty years of probity behind him facing dishonor + and disgrace, to come to me at the earliest possible hour. + Do not, I pray, delay later than Monday, I implore you.</p> + + <p class="signature">James Lawrie.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>Dr. Reiland buried his face in his hands, and +Joslyn turned to Trant. On the young man’s face was +a look of deep perplexity.</p> + +<p>“When did you get that, Mr. Branower?” Trant +asked, finally.</p> + +<p>“He wrote it Saturday morning. It was delivered +to my house Saturday afternoon. But I was motoring +with my wife. I did not get it until I returned +late Sunday afternoon.”</p> + +<p>“Then you could not have come much sooner.”</p> + +<p>“No; yet I might have done something if I had suspected +that behind this letter was hidden his +determination to commit suicide.”</p> + +<p>“Not suicide, Mr. Branower!” Trant interrupted +curtly.</p> + +<p>“What?”</p> + +<p>“Look at his face. It is white and drawn. If +asphyxiated, it would be blue, swollen. Before the gas +was turned on he was dead—struck dead—”</p> + +<p>“Struck dead? By whom?”</p> + +<p>“By the man in this room last night! By the man +who burned those notes, plugged the keyhole, turned +on the gas, arranged the rest of these theatricals, and +went away to leave Dr. Lawrie a thief and a suicide +to—protect himself! Two men had access to the +university funds, handled these notes! One lies before +us; and the man in this room last night, I should +say, was the other—” he glanced at the clock—“the +man who at the hour of nine has not yet appeared at +his office!”</p> + +<p>“Harrison?” cried Joslyn and Reiland together.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Harrison,” Trant answered, stoutly. “I certainly +prefer him for the man in the room last night.”</p> + +<p>“Harrison?” Branower repeated, contemptuously. +“Impossible.”</p> + +<p>“How impossible?” Trant asked, defiantly.</p> + +<p>“Because Harrison, Mr. Trant,” the president of +the trustees rejoined, “was struck senseless at Elgin +in an automobile accident Saturday noon. He has +been in the Elgin hospital, scarcely conscious, ever +since.”</p> + +<p>“How did you learn that, Mr. Branower?”</p> + +<p>“I have helped many young men to positions here. +Harrison was one. Because of that, I suppose, he +filled in my name on the ‘whom to notify’ line of a +personal identification card he carried. The hospital +doctors notified me just as I was leaving home in my +car. I saw him at the Elgin hospital that +afternoon.”</p> + +<p>Young Trant stared into the steady eyes of the president +of the trustees. “Then Harrison could not have +been the man in the room last night. Do you +realize what that implies?” he asked, whitening. “I +preferred, I said, to fix him as Harrison. That would +keep both Dr. Lawrie from being the thief and any +close personal intimate of his from being the man who +struck him dead here last night. But with Harrison not +here, the treasurer himself must have known all the +particulars of this crime,” he struck the canceled note +in his hand, “and been concealing it for—that close +friend of his who came here with him. You see how +very terribly it simplifies our problem? It was some +one close enough to Lawrie to cause him to conceal the +thing as long as he could, and some one intimate +enough to know of the treasurer’s tinkering habits, so +that, even in great haste, he could think at once of +the gas nippers in Lawrie’s private tool drawer. +Gentlemen,” the young assistant tensely added, “I must +ask you which of you three was the one in this room +with Dr. Lawrie last night?”</p> + +<p>“What!” The word in three different cadences +burst from their lips—amazement, anger, threat.</p> + +<p>He lifted a shaking hand to stop them.</p> + +<p>“I realize,” he went on more quickly, “that, after +having suggested one charge and having it shown +false, I am now making a far more serious one, which, +if I cannot prove it, must cost me my position here. +But I make it now again, directly. One of you three +was in this room with Dr. Lawrie last night. Which +one? I could tell within the hour if I could take you +successively to the psychological laboratory and +submit you to a test. But, perhaps I need not. Even +without that, I hope soon to be able to tell the other +two, for which of you Dr. Lawrie concerned himself +with this crime, and who it was that in return struck +him dead Sunday night and left him to bear a double +disgrace as a suicide.”</p> + +<p>The young psychologist stood an instant gazing into +their startled faces, half frightened at his own +temerity in charging thus the three most respected men +in the university; then, as President Joslyn eyed him +sternly, he caught again the enthusiasm of his +reasoning, and flushed and paled.</p> + +<p>“One of you, at least, knows that I speak the +truth,” he said, determinedly; and without a backward +look he burst from the room and, running down +the steps, left the campus.</p> + +<p>It was five o’clock that afternoon, when Trant +rang the bell at Dr. Joslyn’s door. He saw that Mr. +Branower and Dr. Reiland had been taken into the +president’s private study before him; and that the +manner of all three was less stern toward him than he had +expected.</p> + +<p>“Dr. Reiland and Mr. Branower have come to hear +the coroner’s report to me,” Joslyn explained. “The +physicians say Lawrie did not die from asphyxiation. +An autopsy to-morrow will show the cause of his +death. But, at least, Trant—you made accusations +this morning which can have no foundation in truth, +but in part of what you said you must have been +correct; for obviously some other person was in the +room.”</p> + +<p>“But not Harrison,” Trant replied. “I have just +come from Elgin, where, though I was not allowed to +speak with him, I saw him in the hospital.”</p> + +<p>“You doubted he was there?” Branower asked.</p> + +<p>“I wanted to make sure, Mr. Branower. And I +have traced the notes, too,” the young man continued. +“All were made out as usual, signed regularly by Dr. +Lawrie and paid by him personally, upon maturity, +from the university reserve. So I have made only +more certain that the man in the room must have +been one of Dr. Lawrie’s closest friends. I came back +and saw Margaret Lawrie.”</p> + +<p>Reiland’s eyes filled with tears. “This terrible +thing, with her unfortunate presence with us at the +finding of her father’s body, has prostrated poor +Margaret,” he said.</p> + +<p>“I found it so,” Trant rejoined. “Her memory is +temporarily destroyed. I could make her comprehend +little. Yet she knows only of her father’s death; nothing +at all has been said to her of the suspicions against +him. Does his death alone seem cause enough for her +prostration? More likely, I think, it points to some +guilty knowledge of her father’s trouble and whom he +was protecting. If so, her very condition makes it +impossible for her to conceal those guilty associations +under examination.”</p> + +<p>“Guilty associations?” Dr. Reiland rose nervously. +“Do you mean, Trant, that you think Margaret +knows anything of the loss of this money? Oh, +no, no; it is impossible!”</p> + +<p>“It would at any rate account for her prostration,” +the assistant repeated quietly, “and I have determined +to make a test of her for association with her father’s +guilt. I will use in this case, Dr. Reiland, only the +simple association of words—Freud’s method.”</p> + +<p>“How? What do you mean?” Branower and +Joslyn exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“It is a method for getting at the concealed causes +of mental disturbance. It is especially useful in +diagnosing cases of insanity or mental breakdown from +insufficiently known causes.</p> + +<p>“We have a machine, the chronoscope,” Trant continued, +as the others waited, interrogatively, “which +registers the time to a thousandth part of a second, if +necessary. The German physicians merely speak a +series of words which may arouse in the patient ideas +that are at the bottom of his insanity. Those words +which are connected with the trouble cause deeper +feeling in the subject and are marked by longer intervals +of time before the word in reply can be spoken. The +nature of the word spoken by the patient often clears +the causes for his mental agitation or prostration.</p> + +<p>“In this case, if Margaret Lawrie had reason to +believe that any one of you were closely associated with +her father’s trouble, the speaking of that one’s name +or the mentioning of anything connected with that +one, must betray an easily registered and decidedly +measurable disturbance.”</p> + +<p>“I have heard of this,” Joslyn commented.</p> + +<p>“Excellent,” the president of the trustees agreed, +“if Margaret’s physician does not object.”</p> + +<p>“I have already spoken with him,” Trant replied. +“Can I expect you all at Dr. Lawrie’s to-morrow +morning when I test Margaret to discover the identity +of the intimate friend who caused the crime charged to +her father?”</p> + +<p>Dr. Lawrie’s three dearest friends nodded in turn.</p> + +<hr> + +<p>Trant came early the next morning to the dead treasurer’s +house to set up the chronoscope in the spare +bedroom next to Margaret Lawrie’s.</p> + +<p>The instrument he had decided to use was the +pendulum chronoscope, as adapted by Professor Fitz of +Harvard University. It somewhat resembled a brass +dumb-bell very delicately poised upon an axle so that +the lower part, which was heavier, could swing slowly +back and forth like a pendulum. A light, sharp +pointer paralleled this pendulum. The weight, when +started, swung to and fro in the arc of a circle; the +pointer swung beside it. But the pointer, after starting +to swing, could be instantaneously stopped by an +electro-magnet. This magnet was connected with a +battery and wires led from it to the two instruments +used in the test. The first pair of wires connected +with two bits of steel which Trant, in conducting the +test, would hold between his lips. The least motion of +his lips to enunciate a word would break the electric +circuit and start swinging the pendulum and the pointer +beside it. The second pair of wires led to a sort of +telephone receiver. When Margaret would reply into +this, it would close the circuit and instantaneously the +electro-magnet clamped and held the pointer. A +scale along which the pointer traveled gave, down to +thousandths of a second, the time between the speaking +of the suggesting word and the first associated +word replied.</p> + +<p>Trant had this instrument set up and tested before +he had to turn and admit Dr. Reiland. Mr. Branower +and President Joslyn soon joined them, and a moment +after a nurse entered supporting Margaret Lawrie. +Dr. Reiland himself scarcely recognized her as +the same girl who had come running across the campus +to them only the morning before. Her whole life +had been centered on the father so suddenly taken +away.</p> + +<p>Trant nodded to the nurse, who withdrew. He +looked to Dr. Reiland.</p> + +<p>“Please be sure that she understands,” he said, +softly. The older man bent over the girl, who had +been placed upon the bed.</p> + +<p>“Margaret,” he said tenderly, “we know you cannot +speak well this morning, my dear, and that you +cannot think very clearly. We shall not ask you to +do much. Mr. Trant is merely going to say some +words to you slowly, one word at a time; and we want +you to answer—you need only speak very gently—anything +at all, any word at all, my dear, which you +think of first. I will hold this little horn over you to +speak into. Do you understand, my dear?”</p> + +<p>The big eyes closed in assent. The others drew +nervously nearer. Reiland took the receiving drum +at the end of the second set of wires and held it +before the girl’s lips. Trant picked up the mouth metals +attached to the starting wires.</p> + +<p>“We may as well begin at once,” Trant said, as he +seated himself beside the table which held the +chronoscope and took a pencil to write upon a pad of paper +the words he suggested, the words associated and the +time elapsing. Then he put his mouthpiece between +his lips.</p> + +<p>“Dress!” he enunciated clearly. The pendulum, +released by the magnet, started to swing. The pointer +swung beside it in an arc along the scale. “Skirt!” +Miss Lawrie answered, feebly, into the drum at her +lips. The current caught the pointer instantaneously, +and Trant noted the result thus:</p> + +<blockquote class="notes"> + + <p>Dress—2.7 seconds—skirt.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>“Dog!” Trant spoke, and started the pointer again. +“Cat!” the girl answered and stopped it. Trant +wrote:</p> + +<blockquote class="notes"> + + <p>Dog—2.6 seconds—cat.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>A faint smile appeared on the faces of Mr. Branower +and Dr. Joslyn, but Reiland knew that his young +assistant was merely establishing the normal time of +Margaret’s associations through words without +probable connection with any disturbance in her mind.</p> + +<figure id="illus1"> + <img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt="A man and a woman are seated, + several feet apart, with speaking horns held up to them. The man + sits before an instrument with a curved scale. Three older + gentlemen stand around, watching the proceedings carefully."> + <figcaption>“Dress!” he enunciated clearly. “Skirt!” Miss + Lawrie answered feebly</figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>“Home,” Trant said; and it was five and two-tenths +seconds before he could write “father.” Reiland +moved, sympathetically, but the other men still watched +without seeing any significance in the time extension. +Trant waited a moment. “Money!” he said, +suddenly. Dr. Reiland watched the swinging pointer +tremblingly. But “purse” from Margaret stopped it +before it had registered more than her established +normal time for innocent associations.</p> + +<blockquote class="notes"> + + <p>Money—2.7 seconds—purse.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>“Note!” Trant said, suddenly; and “letter” he +wrote again in two and six-tenths seconds.</p> + +<p>Dr. Joslyn moved impatiently; and Trant brusquely +pulled his chair nearer the table. The chair legs +rasped on the hard-wood floor. Margaret shivered +and, when Trant tried her with the next words, she +merely repeated them. President Joslyn moved again.</p> + +<p>“Cannot you proceed, Trant?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Not unless we can make her understand again, +sir,” the young man answered. “But I think, Dr. +Joslyn, if you would show her what we mean—not +merely try to explain again—we might go on. I +mean, when I say the next word, will you take the +mouthpiece from Dr. Reiland and speak into it some +different one?”</p> + +<p>“Very well,” the president agreed, impatiently, “if +you think it will do any good.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you!” Trant replaced his mouthpieces. +“October!” He named the month just ended. The +pointer started. “Recitations!” the president of the +university answered in one and nine-tenths seconds.</p> + +<p>“Thank you. Now for Miss Lawrie, Dr. +Reiland!”</p> + +<p>“Steal!” he tried; and the girl associated “iron” +in two and seven-tenths seconds.</p> + +<p>“Good!” Trant exclaimed. “If you will show her +again, I think we can go ahead. Fourteenth!” he +said to the president. Joslyn replied “fifteenth” in +precisely two seconds and passed the drum back. All +watched Miss Lawrie. But again Trant rasped carelessly +his chair upon the floor and the girl merely +repeated the next words. Reiland was unable to make +her understand. Joslyn tried to help. Branower +shook his head skeptically. But Trant turned to him.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Branower, you can help me, I believe, if you +will take Dr. Joslyn’s place. I beg your pardon, Dr. +Joslyn, but I am sure your nervousness prevents you +from helping now.”</p> + +<p>Branower hesitated a moment, skeptically; then, +smiling, acquiesced and took up the drum. Trant +replaced his mouthpieces.</p> + +<p>“Blow!” he said. “Wind!” Branower answered, +quietly. Trant mechanically noted the time, two seconds, +for all were intent upon the next trial with the +girl.</p> + +<p>“Books!” Trant said. “Library!” said the girl, +now able to associate the different words and in her +minimum time of two and a half seconds.</p> + +<p>“I think we are going again,” said Trant. “If +you will keep on, Mr. Branower. Strike!” he +exclaimed, to start the pointer. “Labor trouble,” +Branower returned in just under two seconds; and +again he guided the girl. For “conceal” she +answered “hide” at once. Then Trant tested rapidly +this series:</p> + +<blockquote class="notes"> + + <p>Margaret, conceal—2.6—hide.</p> + <p>Branower, figure—2.1—shape.</p> + <p>Margaret, thief—2.8—silver.</p> + <p>Branower, twenty-fifth—4.5—twenty-sixth.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>“Joslyn!” Trant tried an intelligible test word +suddenly. He had just suggested “thief” to the +girl; now he named her father’s friend, the president +of the university. But “friend” she was able to +associate in two and six-tenths seconds. Trant sank +back and wrote this series without comment:</p> + +<blockquote class="notes"> + + <p>Margaret, Joslyn—2.6—friend.</p> + <p>Branower, wife—4.4—Cora.</p> + <p>Margaret, secret—2.7—Alice.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>Trant glanced up, surprised, considered a moment, +but then bowed to Mr. Branower to guide the girl +again, saying “wound,” to which he wrote the reply +“no,” after four and six-tenths seconds. Immediately +Trant made the second direct and intelligible +test.</p> + +<p>“Branower!” he shot, suggestively, to the girl; but +“friend” she was again able to associate at once. +As the moment before the president of the trustees had +glanced at Joslyn, now the president of the University +nodded to Branower. Trant continued his list +rapidly:</p> + +<blockquote class="notes"> + + <p>Margaret, Branower—2.7—friend.</p> + <p>Branower, letter-opener—4.9—desk.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>“Father!” Trant tried next. But from this there +came no association, as the emotion was too deep. +Trant, recognizing this, nodded to Mr. Branower to +start the next test, and wrote:</p> + +<blockquote class="notes"> + + <p>Margaret, father—no association.</p> + <p>Branower, Harrison—5.3—Cleveland.</p> + <p>Margaret, university—2.5—study.</p> + <p>Branower, married—2.1—wife.</p> + <p>Margaret, expose—2.6—camera.</p> + <p>Branower, brother—4.9—sister.</p> + <p>Margaret, sink—2.7—kitchen.</p> + <p>Branower, collapse—4.8—balloon.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>“Reiland!” Trant said to the girl at last. It was +as if he had put off the trial for his own old friend as +long as he could. Yet if anyone had been watching +him, they would have noted now the quick flash of his +mismated eyes. But all eyes were upon the swinging +pointer of the chronoscope which, at the mention of +her father’s best and oldest friend in that way, +Margaret was unable to stop. One full second it swung, +two, three, four, five, six—</p> + +<p>The young assistant in psychology picked up his +papers and arose. He went to the door and called in +the nurse from the next room. “That is all, +gentlemen,” he said. “Shall we go down to the study?”</p> + +<p>“Well, Trant?” President Joslyn demanded impatiently, +as the four filed into the room below, which +had been Dr. Lawrie’s. “You act as if you had +discovered some clew. What is it?”</p> + +<p>Trant was closing the door carefully, when a +surprised exclamation made him turn.</p> + +<p>“Cora!” Mr. Branower exclaimed; “you here? +Oh! You came to see poor Margaret!”</p> + +<p>“I couldn’t stay home thinking of you torturing her +so this morning!” The beautiful woman swept their +faces with a glance of anxious inquiry.</p> + +<p>“I told Cora last night something about our test, +Joslyn,” Branower explained, leading his wife toward +the door. “You can go up to Margaret now, my +dear.”</p> + +<p>She seemed to resist. Trant fixed his eyes upon +her, speculatively.</p> + +<p>“I see no reason for sending Mrs. Branower away +if she wishes to stay and hear with us the results of +our test which Dr. Reiland is about to give us.” Trant +turned to the old professor and handed him the sheets +upon which he had written his record.</p> + +<p>“Now, Dr. Reiland, please! Will you explain to +us what these tell you?”</p> + +<p>Dr. Joslyn’s hands clenched and Branower drew +toward his wife as Reiland took the papers and +examined them earnestly. But the old professor raised a +puzzled face.</p> + +<p>“Luther,” he appealed, “to me these show nothing! +Margaret’s normal association-time for innocent +words, as you established at the start, is about two +and one-half seconds. She did not exceed that in +any of the words with guilty associations which you +put to her. From these results, I should say, it is +scientifically impossible that she even knows her father is +accused. Her replies indicate nothing unless—unless,” +he paused, painfully, “because she could associate +nothing with my name you consider that +implies—”</p> + +<p>“That you are so close to her that at your name, +as at the name of her father, the emotion was very +deep, Dr. Reiland,” the young man interrupted. “But +do not look only at Margaret’s associations! Tell us, +instead, what Dr. Joslyn’s and Mr. Branower’s show!”</p> + +<p>“Dr. Joslyn’s and Mr. Branower’s?”</p> + +<p>“Yes! For they show, do they not—unconsciously, +but scientifically and quite irrefutably—that +Dr. Joslyn could not possibly have been concerned in +any way with those notes, part of which were due and +paid upon the fourteenth of October; but that Mr. +Branower has a far from innocent association with +them, and with the twenty-fifth of the month, on which +the rest were paid!”</p> + +<p>He swung toward the trustee. “So, Mr. Branower, +you were the man in the room Sunday night! +<em>You</em>, to save the rascal Harrison, your wife’s brother +and the real thief, struck Dr. Lawrie dead in his office, +burned the raised notes, turned on the gas and left him +to seem a suicide and a thief!”</p> + +<p>For the second time within twenty-four hours, Trant +held Dr. Reiland and the president of the university +astounded before him. But Branower gave an ugly +laugh.</p> + +<p>“If you could not spare me, you might at least +have spared my wife this last raving accusation! +Come, Cora!” he commanded.</p> + +<p>“I thought you might control yourself, Mr. +Branower,” Trant returned. “And when I saw your wife +wished to stay I thought I might keep her to convince +even President Joslyn. You see?” he quietly indicated +Mrs. Branower as she fell, white and shaking, +into a chair. “Do not think that I would have told +it in this way if these facts were new to her. I was +sure the only surprise to her would be that we knew +them.”</p> + +<p>Branower bent to his wife; but she straightened +and recovered.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Branower,” Trant continued then, “if you +will excuse chance errors, I will make a fuller +statement.</p> + +<p>“I should say, first, that since you kept his relationship +a secret, this Harrison, your wife’s brother, was +a rascal before he came here. Still you procured him +his position in the treasurer’s office, where he soon +began to steal. It was very easy. Dr. Lawrie merely +signed notes; Harrison made them out. He could +make them out in erasable ink and raise them after +they were signed, or in any other simple way. Suffice +it that he did raise them and stole one hundred +thousand dollars. When the notes were presented for +payment, the matter was laid before you. You must +have promised Dr. Lawrie to make up the loss, for he +paid the notes and entered the payment in his books. +Then the time came when the books must be presented +for audit. Lawrie wrote that last appeal to you to +put off the settlement no longer. But before the letter +was delivered you and Mrs. Branower had hurried off +to Elgin to see this Harrison, who was hurt. You +got back Sunday evening and read Dr. Lawrie’s note. +You went to him; and, unable to make payment, there +in his office you struck him dead—”</p> + +<p>But Branower was upon him with a harsh cry.</p> + +<p>“You devil! You—devil! But you lie! I did +not kill him!”</p> + +<p>“With a blow? Oh, no! You raised no hand +against him. But his heart was weak. At your refusal +to carry out your promise, which meant his ruin, +he collapsed before you—dead. Do you wish to +continue the statement now yourself?”</p> + +<p>The wife gathered herself. “It is not so! No!” +she forbade, “no!” But Branower turned on +President Joslyn a haggard face.</p> + +<p>“Is this true?” the president demanded sternly. +Branower buried his face in his hands.</p> + +<p>“I will tell you all,” he said thickly. “Harrison, +as this fellow found out somehow, is my wife’s brother. +He has always been reckless, wild; but she—Cora, do +not stop me now—loved him and clung to him as—as +a sister sometimes clings to such a brother. They +were alone in the world, Joslyn. She married me only +on condition that I save and protect him. He +demanded a position here. I hesitated. His life had +been one long scandal; but never before had he been +dishonest with money. Finally I made it a condition +to keep his relationship secret, and sent for him. I +myself first discovered he had raised the notes, weeks +before you came to me with the evidence you had +discovered that something was wrong in the treasurer’s +office. As soon as I found it out, I went to Lawrie. +He agreed to keep Harrison about the office until I +could remove him quietly. He paid the notes from +the university reserve, just raised, upon my promise +to make it up. David had lost all speculating in stocks. +I could not pay this tremendous amount in cash at +once; but the books were to be audited. Lawrie, who +had expected immediate repayment from me, would +not even once present a false statement. In our +argument his heart gave out—I did not know it was +weak—and he collapsed in his chair—dead.”</p> + +<p>Dr. Reiland groaned, wringing his hands.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Professor Reiland!” Mrs. Branower cried +now. “He has not told everything. I—I had +followed him!”</p> + +<p>“You followed him?” Trant cried. “Ah, of +course!”</p> + +<p>“I thought—I told him,” the wife burst on, “this +had happened by Providence to save David!”</p> + +<p>“Then it was you who suggested to him to leave +the stiletto letter opener in Lawrie’s hand as an +evidence of suicide!”</p> + +<p>Branower and his wife both stared at Trant in fresh +terror.</p> + +<p>“But you, Mr. Branower,” Trant went on, “not +being a woman with a precious brother to save, could +not think of making a wound. You thought of the +gas. Of course! But it was inexcusable in me not to +test for Mrs. Branower’s presence. It was her odd +mental association of a perpetrator with the news of +the suspected suicide that first aroused my suspicions.”</p> + +<p>He turned as though the matter were finished; but +met Dr. Joslyn’s perplexed eyes. The end attained +was plain; but to the president of the university the +road by which they had come was dark as ever. +Branower had taken his wife into another room. He +returned.</p> + +<p>“Dr. Joslyn,” said Trant, “it is scientifically +impossible—as any psychologist will tell you—for a +person who associates the first suggested idea in two +and one-half seconds, like Margaret, to substitute +another without almost doubling the time interval.</p> + +<p>“Observe Margaret’s replies. ‘Iron’ followed +‘steal’ as quickly as ‘cat’ followed ‘dog.’ ‘Silver,’ +the thing a woman first thinks of in connection with +burglary, was the first association she had with ‘thief.’ +No possible guilty thought there. No guilty secret +connected with her father prevented her from associating, +in her regular time, some girl’s secret with Alice +Seaton next door. I saw her innocence at once and +continued questioning her merely to avoid a more +formal examination of the others. I rasped my chair +over the floor to disturb her nerves, therefore, and got +you into the test.</p> + +<p>“The first two tests of you, Dr. Joslyn, showed that +you had no association with the notes. The date half +of them came due meant nothing to you. ‘October’ +suggested only recitations and ‘fourteenth’ permitted +you to associate simply the succeeding day in an +entirely unsuspicious time. I substituted Mr. Branower. +I had explained this system as getting results from +persons with poor mental resistance. I had not +mentioned it as even surer of results when the person +tested is in full control of his faculties, even suspicious +and trying to prevent betraying himself. Mr. Branower +clearly thought he could guard himself from +giving me anything. Now notice his replies.</p> + +<p>“The twenty-fifth, the day most of the notes were +due, meant so much that it took double the time, before +he could drive out his first suspicious association, +merely to say ‘twenty-sixth.’ I told you I suspected +his wife was at least cognizant of something wrong. +It took him twice the necessary time to say ‘Cora’ +after ‘wife’ was mentioned. He gave the first association, +but the chronoscope registered mercilessly that +he had to think it over. ‘Wound’ then brought the +remarkable association ‘no’ at the end of four and +six-tenths seconds. There was no wound; but something +had made it so that he had to think it over to see if it +was suspicious. When I first saw that dagger letter +opener on Dr. Lawrie’s desk, I thought that if a +man were trying to make it seem suicide, he must at +least have thought of using the dagger before the gas. +Now note the next test, ‘Harrison.’ Any innocent +man, not overdoing it, would have answered at once +the name of the Harrison immediately in all our minds. +Mr. Branower thought of him first, of course, and +could have answered in two seconds. To drive out +that and think of President Harrison so as to give a +seemingly ‘innocent’ association, ‘Cleveland,’ took +him over five seconds. I then went for the hold of this +Harrison, probably, upon Mrs. Branower. I tried for +it twice. The second trial, ‘brother,’ made him think +again for five seconds, practically, before he could +decide that sister was not a guilty word to give. As +the first words ‘blow’ only brought ‘wind’ in two +seconds and ‘strike’ suggested ‘labor’ at once, I knew +he could not have struck Dr. Lawrie a blow; and my +last words showed, indeed, that Lawrie probably +collapsed before him. And I was done.”</p> + +<p>Dr. Joslyn was pacing the room with rapid steps. +“It is plain. Branower, you offer nothing in your +defense?”</p> + +<p>“There is nothing.”</p> + +<p>“There is much. The university owes a great debt +to your father. The autopsy will show conclusively +that Dr. Lawrie died of heart failure. The other facts +are private with ourselves. You can restore this +money. Its absence I will reveal only to the trustees. +I shall present to them at the same time your +resignation from the board.”</p> + +<p>He turned to Trant. “But this secrecy, young man, +will deprive you of the reputation you might have +gained through the really remarkable method you used +through this investigation.”</p> + +<p>“It makes no difference,” Trant answered, “if you +will give me a short leave from the university. As I +mentioned to Dr. Reiland yesterday, the prosecuting +attorney of Chicago was murdered two weeks ago. +Sixteen men—one of them surely guilty—are held; but +the criminal cannot be picked among them. I wish +to try the scientific psychology again. If I succeed, I +shall resign and keep after crime—in the new way!”</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter" id="ch02"> + +<h2>II. <br> The Fast Watch</h2> + +<p>Police Captain Crowley—red-headed, alert, brave—stamped +into the North Side police station an hour +later than usual and in a very bad temper. He glared +defiantly at the row of patrolmen, reporters, and +busybodies, elbowed aside his desk sergeant without a word, +and slammed into his private office. The customary +pile of morning papers, flaying him in stinging +front-page columns, covered his desk. He glanced them +over, grunting; then swept them to the floor and let +himself drop heavily into his chair.</p> + +<p>“He’s <em>got</em> to be guilty!” The big fist struck the +table top desperately. “It’s got to be,” the hoarse +voice iterated determinedly—“<em>him!</em>” He had +checked the last word as the door swung open, only +to utter it more forcibly as he recognized the desk +sergeant.</p> + +<p>“Kanlan, eh, Ed?” the desk sergeant ventured. +“You have him at Harrison Street station again the +boys tell me.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, we have him.”</p> + +<p>“You got nothing out of him yet?”</p> + +<p>“No, nothing—yet!”</p> + +<p>“But you think it’s him?”</p> + +<p>“Who said anything about thinking?” Crowley +glanced to see that the door was shut. “I said it’s +<em>got</em> to be him! And—it’s got to, whether or no, +ain’t it?”</p> + +<p>A month before, Randolph Bronson—the city prosecuting +attorney for whose unpunished murder Crowley +was under fire—had dared to try to break up +and send to the penitentiary the sixteen men who +formed the most notorious and dangerous gambling +“ring” in the city. It grew certain that some of the +sixteen would stick at nothing to put the prosecutor +out of the way. The chief of police particularly +charged Crowley, therefore, to see to Bronson’s safety +in the North Side precinct, where the young +attorney boarded. But Crowley had failed; for within +twelve days of the warning, early one morning, +Bronson had been found dead a block from his boarding +house—murdered. Crowley had been unable to fix +a clew upon a single one of the sixteen. He had confidently +arrested them all at once, but after his stiffest +“third degree” had to release them. Now, in +desperation, he had rearrested Kanlan.</p> + +<p>“Sure,” said the desk sergeant, “Kanlan or some +one’s got to be guilty soon—whether or no. But if +you ain’t got the goods on Kanlan yet, maybe you’d +want to talk to a lad that’s waiting in front.”</p> + +<p>“Who is he? What does he know?”</p> + +<p>“Trant’s his name—from the university, he says. +And he says he can pick our man.”</p> + +<p>“What is he—student?”</p> + +<p>“He says some sort of perfesser.”</p> + +<p>“Professor!” Crowley half turned away.</p> + +<p>“Not that kind, Ed.” The desk sergeant bent one +arm and tapped his biceps. “He’s got plenty of this; +and he’s got hair, too”—the sergeant glanced at +Crowley’s red head—“as red as any, Cap.”</p> + +<p>“Send him in.”</p> + +<p>Crowley looked up quickly at Trant when he +entered. He saw a young man with hair indeed as +thick and red as his own; and with a figure, for his +more medium height, quite as muscular as any police +officer’s. He saw that the young man’s blue-gray +eyes were not exact mates—that the right was quite +noticeably more blue than the other, and under it was +a small, pink scar which reddened conspicuously with +the slightest flush of the face.</p> + +<p>“Luther Trant, Captain Crowley,” Trant introduced +himself. “For two years I have been conducting +experiments in the psychological laboratory of the +university—”</p> + +<p>“Psycho—Lord! Another clairvoyant!”</p> + +<p>“If the man who killed Bronson is one of the +sixteen men you suspect, and you will let me +examine them, properly, I can pick the murderer at +once.”</p> + +<p>“Examine them properly! Saints in Heaven, son! +Say! that gang needed a stiff drink all round when we +were through examining them; and never a word or a +move gave a man away!”</p> + +<p>“Those men—of course not!” Trant returned +hotly. “For they can hold their tongues and their +faces, and you looked at nothing else! But while you +were examining them, if I, or any other trained +psychologist, had had a galvanometer contact against the +palms of their hands, or—”</p> + +<p>“A palmist, Lord preserve us!” Crowley cried. +“Say! don’t ever think we needed you. We got our +man yesterday—Kanlan—and we’ll have a confession +out of him by night. Sergeant!” he called, as the +door opened to admit a man, “do you know what you +let in—a palmist!” But it was not the sergeant who +entered. “A‑ah! Inspector Walker!”</p> + +<p>“Morning, Crowley,” Trant heard the quiet response +behind him as he turned. A giant in the uniform +of an inspector of police almost filled the +doorway.</p> + +<p>“Come with me, young man,” he said. “Miss Allison +was passing with me outside here and we heard +some of what you’ve been saying. We’d like to hear +more.”</p> + +<p>Trant looked up at the intelligent face and followed. +A young woman was waiting outside the door. As the +inspector pointed Trant toward a quiet room in the +rear of the building, she followed. Inspector Walker +fastened the door behind them. The girl had seated +herself beside the table in the center, and as she turned +to Trant she raised her veil above her brown, curling +hair, and pinned it over her hat. He recognized her at +once as the girl to whom Bronson had become engaged +barely a week before he had been killed. On her had +fallen all the horrors as well as the grief of Bronson’s +murder, and Trant did not wonder that the shadow +of that event was visible in her sweet face. But he +read there also another look—a look of apprehension +and defiance.</p> + +<p>“I was coming in with Inspector Walker to see +Captain Crowley,” the girl explained to Trant, “when +I overheard you telling him that you think +this—Kanlan—couldn’t have killed Mr. Bronson. I hope this +is so.”</p> + +<p>Trant looked to Walker. “Miss Allison’s father +was Judge Allison, the truest man who ever sat on the +bench in this city,” Walker responded. “His daughter +knows she must not try to prevent us from punishing +a man who murders; but neither of us wants +to believe Kanlan is the man—for good reasons. +Now, what was that you were telling Crowley?”</p> + +<p>“I was trying to tell Captain Crowley of a simple +test which must prove Kanlan’s guilt or innocence at +once, and, if necessary, then find the guilty man. I +have been conducting experiments to register and +measure the effects and reactions of emotions. A person +under the influence of fear or the stress of guilt must +always betray signs. A hardened man can control all +the signs for which the police ordinarily look; he can +control his features, prevent his face flushing +noticeably. But no man, however hardened or trained to +control himself, can prevent many minute changes +which by scientific means are measurable and betray +him hopelessly. No man, however on his guard—to +take the simplest test—can control the sweat glands +in the palms of his hands, which always moisten under +emotion.”</p> + +<p>“A scared man sweats; that’s so,” Walker +assented.</p> + +<p>“So psychologists have devised a simple way of +registering the emotions shown through the glands in +the palms of the hand,” Trant continued, “by means +of the galvanometer. I have one in the box I left with +the desk sergeant. It is merely a device for measuring +the varying strength of an ordinary electric +current. The man tested holds in each hand a contact +metal wired to the battery. When he grasps them a +weak and imperceptible current passes through his body +or—if his hands are very dry—perhaps no current +at all. He is then examined and confronted with +circumstances or objects connected with the crime. +If he is innocent, the objects have no significance in +his mind, and cause no emotion. His face betrays +none; neither can his hands. But if he is guilty, +though he still manages to control his face, he +cannot prevent the moisture from flowing from the +glands in his palms. Understand me; I do not mean +an amount of moisture noticeable to the eye, but it is +<em>enough to make an electric contact through the metals +which he holds—enough to register very plainly upon +the galvanometer, whose moving needle, traveling in +the scale, betrays him pitilessly</em>!”</p> + +<p>The inspector shook his head skeptically.</p> + +<p>“I recognize that this is new to you,” said Trant. +“But I am telling you no theory. Using the +galvanometer properly, we can this morning +determine—scientifically and irrefutably—whether or not Kanlan +killed Mr. Bronson, and later, if it is not he, which of +the others is the assassin. May I try it?”</p> + +<p>Miss Allison, more white than before, had risen, +and laid her hand upon Trant’s sleeve.</p> + +<p>“Oh, try it, Mr. Trant!” she cried. “Try—try +anything which can stop them from showing through +this gambler, Kanlan, and Mrs. Hawtin that Mr. +Bronson—” She broke off, and turned to the inspector. +Walker was looking Trant over again. The psychologist +faced the police officer eagerly. “I can’t believe +it’s Kanlan,” said Walker.</p> + +<figure id="illus2"> + <img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt="A gentleman, a man in a police + uniform, and a gentlewoman are speaking at a table. The woman is + dressed in black, with an elaborate hat and veil, and is + standing up from her chair, placing one hand on the arm of the + police officer as she speaks."> + <figcaption>“Oh, try it, Mr. Trant!” she cried. “Try—try + anything”</figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>Until now Trant had been impressed chiefly by the +huge bulk of the inspector, but as Walker spoke of +the gambler whom Crowley, to save his own face, was +trying to “railroad” to execution, Trant saw in the +inspector something approaching sentimentality. For +he was that common anomaly of the police department, +an officer born and bred among the criminals he +is set to watch.</p> + +<p>“I’ll take you to Kanlan,” the inspector granted at +last. “As things are going with him, you can’t hurt, +and maybe you can help. Everyone knows Kanlan +would have put out Bronson; but not—I am +certain—that way. I was born in the basement opposite +Kanlan’s. If Mr. Bronson had been attacked in +broad day, with a detective on each side of him and all +of them had been beaten up or killed, I’d have been +the first to step over to Kanlan and say, ‘Jake, you’re +wanted.’ But Bronson was not caught that way. The +man that killed him waited till the house was quiet, +until Crowley’s guards were asleep, and then somehow +or other—how is a bigger mystery than the murder +itself—got him out alone in the street at two o’clock +in the morning, and struck him dead from a dark +doorway.</p> + +<p>“But I’m not taking you to Kanlan only to help +save him from Crowley.” Walker straightened suddenly +as his eyes met the girl’s. “It’s to help Miss +Allison, too. For the only clew Crowley or anyone +else has to the man who murdered Bronson is in +connection with the means of getting Bronson out of the +house that way. Crowley has discovered that a Mrs. +Hawtin, whom Kanlan can control through her gambling +debts to him, is living a few doors beyond the +place where Bronson’s body was found. Crowley +claims he can show Mrs. Hawtin was a friend of +Bronson’s, and—” The inspector hesitated, glancing at +the girl.</p> + +<p>“Captain Crowley’s case,” said Miss Allison, +finishing, “is based on the charge that after +Randolph—Mr. Bronson—had returned to his rooms from seeing +me that evening, he went out again two hours later to +answer a summons from this—this Mrs. Hawtin. So +long as Captain Crowley can convict some one for this +crime, they seem to care nothing how they slander +and blacken the name of the man who is killed—as +little as they care for those left who—love him.”</p> + +<p>“I see,” said Trant. His eyes rested a moment +upon the inspector, then again upon the girl. It +surprised him to feel, as his eyes met hers that short +moment, how suddenly this problem, which he had set +himself to solve, had changed from a scientific +examination and selection of a guilty man to the +saving—though through the same science—of the reputation +of a man no longer able to defend himself, and the +honor of a woman devoted to that man’s memory.</p> + +<p>“But before I can examine Kanlan, or help you +in any other way, Miss Allison,” he explained gently, +“I must be sure of my facts. It is not too much to +ask you to go over them with me? No, Inspector +Walker,” he anticipated the big police officer’s objection +as Walker started to speak, “if I am to help Miss +Allison, I cannot spare her now.”</p> + +<p>“Please do not, Mr. Trant,” the girl begged bravely.</p> + +<p>“Thank you. Mr. Bronson, I believe, was still +boarding on Superior Street at a bachelor’s boarding +house?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” the girl replied. “It is kept by Mrs. +Mitchell, a very respectable widow with a little boy. +Randolph had boarded with her for six years. She +had once been in great trouble and he was kind to her. +He often spoke of how she gave him motherly care.”</p> + +<p>“Motherly?” Trant asked. “How old is she?”</p> + +<p>“Twenty-seven or eight, I should think.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you. How long had you known Mr. +Bronson, Miss Allison?”</p> + +<p>“A little over two years.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; and intimately, how long?”</p> + +<p>“Almost from the first.”</p> + +<p>“But you were not engaged to him until just the +week before his death?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; our engagement was not made known till +just two days before his—death.”</p> + +<p>“Inspector Walker, how long before Mr. Bronson +was killed was any of the ‘ring’ likely to put him out +of their way?”</p> + +<p>“For two weeks at least.”</p> + +<p>“It fits Crowley’s case, of course, as well as—any +other,” said Trant, thoughtfully, “that two days after +the announcement of his engagement was the first time +anyone could actually catch him alone. But it is worth +noting, inspector. Mr. Bronson called upon you that +evening, Miss Allison? Everything was as usual +between you?”</p> + +<p>“Entirely, Mr. Trant. Of course we both recognized +the constant danger he was in. I knew how and +why he had to be guarded. His regular man, from the +city detail, had been with him all day downtown; and +Captain Crowley’s man came with him to our house. +Mr. Bronson went back to his boarding house with +him precisely at half past ten.”</p> + +<p>“He reached the boarding house,” Inspector Walker +took up the account, “a little before eleven and went +at once to his room. At twelve-thirty the last boarder +came in. Crowley’s man immediately chained the +front door and made all fast. He went to the kitchen +to get something to eat, he says, and may have fallen +asleep, though he denies it. However, until after +Bronson’s body was found, we have made certain, there +was no alarm inside or out.”</p> + +<p>“There is no doubt that Mr. Bronson was in the +house when it was locked up?”</p> + +<p>“None. The last boarder, as he went to his room, +saw Bronson sitting at his table going over some +papers. He was still dressed but said he was going to +bed immediately. An hour and a half later—with +no clew as to how he went out, with no discoverable +reason for his going out except that given by Crowley—a +patrolman found Bronson’s body on the sidewalk +a block east of his boarding house. He had +been struck in the forehead and killed instantly by a +man who must have waited for him in the vestibule +of a little electro-plating shop.”</p> + +<p>“<em>Must</em> have, inspector?” Trant questioned.</p> + +<p>“Yes; he chose this shop doorway because it was +the darkest place in the block.”</p> + +<p>“At what time was that—exactly?” Trant interrupted. +“The papers say the attack was made ten +minutes after two o’clock—that the watch in his +pocket was broken and stopped by his fall at exactly +ten minutes after two. Is that correct?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” the inspector replied. “The watch stopped +at 2.10; but, in spite of that, the exact time of the +murder must have been nearer two than ten minutes +later, for Mr. Bronson’s watch was fast.”</p> + +<p>“What?” Trant cried. “You say his watch was +fast? I had not heard of that!”</p> + +<p>“It was noticed two days ago,” the inspector +explained, “that the record shows that the patrolman +who found Bronson’s body rang up from the nearest +patrol box at five minutes after two. If the attack +was made just before, the watch must have been at +least ten minutes fast, so we have the time, after all, +only approximately.”</p> + +<p>“I see.” Trant turned to the girl. “It is strange, +Miss Allison, that a man like Mr. Bronson carried an +incorrect watch.”</p> + +<p>“He did not. It was always right.”</p> + +<p>“Was it right that evening?”</p> + +<p>“Why, yes. I remember that he compared his +time with our clock before leaving.”</p> + +<p>Trant leaped up, excitedly. “What? What? +But still,” he calmed himself, “whether at two or ten +minutes after two, the main question is the same. +You, too, Miss Allison, can you give no possible +reason why Mr. Bronson might have gone out?”</p> + +<p>“I have tried a thousand times in these terrible +two weeks to think of some reason, but I cannot. Our +house is in a different direction than that he took. +The car line to the city is another way. He knew no +one in that direction—except Mrs. Hawtin.”</p> + +<p>“You knew that he knew her?”</p> + +<p>“Of course, Mr. Trant! He had convicted her +once for shoplifting, but, like everyone whom his +place had made him punish, he watched her afterwards, +and, when she tried to be honest, he helped her as he +had helped a hundred like her—men and women—though +his enemies tried to discredit and disgrace him +by accusing him of untrue motives. Oh, Mr. Trant, +you do not know—you cannot understand—what +shadows and pitfalls surround a man in the position +Mr. Bronson held. That is why, though for two years +we had known and loved each other, he waited so +long before asking me to marry him. I am thankful +that he spoke in time to give me the right to defend +him now before the world! They took his life; they +shall not take his good name! No! No! They shall +not! Help me, Mr. Trant, if you can—help me!”</p> + +<p>“Inspector Walker!” said Trant tensely, “I understand +that all of the sixteen men of the ring claimed +alibis. Was Kanlan’s one of the best or the worst?”</p> + +<p>The inspector hesitated. “One of the worst,” he +replied, unwillingly. “I am sorry to say, the very +worst.”</p> + +<p>To his surprise, Trant’s eyes blazed triumphantly. +“Miss Allison,” said he, quietly and decidedly, “I had +not expected till I had tested Kanlan to be able to +assure you that he is not guilty. But now I think I am +safe in promising it—provided you are sure that Mr. +Bronson’s watch was right when he left you that night. +And, Inspector Walker, if you are also certain that +the murderer waited in the vestibule of that electro-plating +shop, it will be soon, indeed, that we can give +Crowley a better—or rather a worse—man to send +to trial in Kanlan’s place.”</p> + +<p>Again Trant was conscious that the giant inspector +was estimating not the incomprehensible statement he +had made, but Trant himself. And again Walker +seemed satisfied.</p> + +<p>“When can I go with you to Harrison Street to +prove this, inspector?”</p> + +<p>“I shall see Miss Allison home, and meet you at +Harrison Street in an hour.”</p> + +<p>“You will let me know the result of the test at +once, Mr. Trant?”</p> + +<p>“At once, Miss Allison.” Trant took his hat and +dashed from the station.</p> + +<hr> + +<p>Harrison Street police station, Chicago, is headquarters +of the first police division in the third city of the +world. But neither London nor New York, the two +larger cities, nor Paris, whose population of two +million and a half Chicago is now passing, possesses a +police division more complex, diverse, and puzzling in +the cosmopolitan diversity of the persons arrested than +this first of Chicago.</p> + +<p>But from all the dozen diversities brought to the +Harrison Street station daily, for two weeks none had +challenged in interest the case against Jake Kanlan, +the racing man and gambler, rearrested and held for +the murder of Bronson. Trant appreciated this as, +with his galvanometer and batteries in a suit case, he +pushed his way among patrolmen, detectives, reporters, +and the curious into the station. But at once he +caught sight of the giant inspector, Walker.</p> + +<p>“You’re late.” Walker led him into a side room. +“I’ve been putting in the time telling Sweeny here,” +Walker introduced him to one of the two men within, +“and Captain Crowley, how you mean to work your +scheme. We’ve been waiting for you an hour!”</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry,” Trant apologized. “I have been going +over the files of the papers just before and after +the murder. And I must admit, Captain Crowley,” +Trant conceded, “that Kanlan had as strong a reason +as any for wanting Bronson out of the way. But I +found one remarkably significant thing. You have +seen it?” He pulled a folded newspaper from his +pocket and handed it to them. “I mean this +paragraph at the bottom of the front page.”</p> + +<p>The captain read it eagerly, then leaned back and +laughed. “Sure, I saw it,” he derided. “It’s that +old Johanson fake, Sweeny—and he thought it was +a clew!” The inspector took the paper.</p> + +<p>“Threatener of Bronson Breaks Jail” was the +heading, and under it was this short paragraph:</p> + +<blockquote class="article"> + + <p>James Johanson, the notorious Stockyards murderer, + whom City Attorney Bronson sent up for life three years + ago, escaped from the penitentiary early this morning and + is thought by the officials to be making his way to this city. + His trial will be remembered for the dramatic and + spectacular denunciation of the Prosecuting Attorney by the + convicted man upon his condemnation, and his threat to free + himself and “do for” Bronson.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>“You see the date of the paper?” said Trant. “It +is the five o’clock edition of the evening before +Bronson was murdered! Johanson is reported escaped and +at once Bronson is killed.”</p> + +<p>Crowley snickered patronizingly. “So you thought, +before your palmistry, you could string us with that?” +he jeered. “You might better have kept us waiting a +little longer, young man, and you’d have found out +that Johanson couldn’t have done it, for he never +escaped. It was a slip of a sneak thief, Johnson, that +escaped, and he was on his way back to Joliet before +night. The <i>News</i> got the name wrong, that’s all, +son.”</p> + +<p>“I was quite able to find that out, too, before coming +here, Captain Crowley,” Trant said quietly, “both +that Johanson never escaped and that all evening +papers except the <i>News</i> had the name correctly. Even +the <i>News</i> corrected its account in its later edition. +And I did not say that Johanson himself had anything +to do with it. But either you must claim it a strange +coincidence that, within eight hours after a report was +current in the city that Johanson had broken out and +was coming to murder Bronson, Bronson was actually +murdered, or else you must admit the practical +certainty that the man waiting to murder Bronson saw +this account, and, not knowing it was incorrect, chose +that night to kill the attorney, so as to lay it to +Johanson.” He picked up his suit case. “But come, let +us test Kanlan.”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t told Jake what you’re going to do to +him,” Walker volunteered, as he led the three to the +cells below. Sweeny, at Crowley’s nod, had brought +with him a satchel from the upper office.</p> + +<p>Trant had trained himself to avoid definite expectation; +yet as he faced the man within he felt a momentary +surprise. For at first he could see in Kanlan only +a portly, quiet man, carelessly dressed in clothes a +knowing tailor had cut. But as his eyes saw clearer +he perceived that the portliness was not of flesh but of +huge muscles, thinly coated with fat, that the plump, +olive-skinned cheeks concealed a square, fighting jaw, +and that his quiet was the loll of the successful, +city-bred animal, bound by no laws but his own—but an +animal powerful enough to prefer to fight fair. His +heavy lids lifted to watch listlessly as Trant opened +his suit case and took out the instruments for the +test.</p> + +<p>The galvanometer consisted merely of a little dial +with a needle arranged to register on a scale an electric +current down to hundredths of a milliampère. Trant +attached two wires to the binding posts of the instrument, +the circuit including a single cell battery. Each +wire connected with a simple steel cylinder electrode. +With one held in each hand, and the palms of the hands +slightly dampened to perfect the contact, a light +current passed through the body and swung the delicate +needle over the scale to register the change in the +current. Walker, and even Captain Crowley, saw more +clearly now how, if it was a fact that moisture must +come from the glands in the palm of the hand under +emotion, the changes in the amount of the current passing +through the person holding the electrodes must register +upon the dial, and the subject be unable to conceal +his emotional change when confronted with guilty +objects. Kanlan, comprehending nothing, but assured +by Walker’s nod that the test was fair, put out his +hands for the electrodes.</p> + +<p>“You’re wrong, friend,” he said, quietly. “I don’t +know your game. But I ain’t afraid, if it’s on the +square. Of course, I ain’t sorry he’s dead, but—I +didn’t do it!”</p> + +<p>Trant glanced quickly at the dial. A current, so +very slight that he knew it must be entirely imperceptible +to Kanlan, registered upon the scale; and having +registered it, the needle remained steady.</p> + +<p>“Watch it!” he commanded; then checked himself. +“No; wait.” He felt in his pocket. Removing the +newspaper which he had there, still folded at the +account of the escape of the convict Johanson, he looked +about for some place to put it, and then laid it upon +Kanlan’s knee. He took a little phial from his pocket, +uncorked it as if to oil the mechanism about the +galvanometer, but spilled it on the floor. The stifling, +sickening odor of banana oil pervaded the cell; and as +Kanlan smiled at his clumsiness, Trant took his watch +from his pocket and—with the gamester still watching +him curiously—slowly set it forward an hour. +The needle of the galvanometer dial, in plain view of +all, waited steady in its place. The young psychologist +glanced at it satisfiedly.</p> + +<p>“Well, what’s the matter with the show?” +Crowley jeered, impatiently. “Commence.”</p> + +<p>“Commence, Captain Crowley?” Trant raised himself +triumphantly. “I have finished it.” They stared +at him as though distrusting his sanity. “You have +seen for yourself the needle stand steady in place,” +Trant continued. “Inspector Walker”—he turned to +the friendly superior officer as he recognized the +hopelessness of explaining to Crowley—“I understood, of +course, when I asked you to bring me here that, even +if my test should prove conclusive to me, yet I could +scarcely hope to have the police yet accept it. I shall +let Miss Allison know that Kanlan can have had no +possible connection with the crime against Mr. Bronson; +but I understand that I can clear Kanlan in the +eyes of the police only by giving Captain Crowley,” +Trant bowed to that astounded officer, “the real +murderer in his place.”</p> + +<p>“You say you have made the test, Trant?” Walker +challenged, in stupefaction. But before Trant could +answer, Crowley pushed him aside, roughly, and +stooped to the satchel which Sweeny had brought.</p> + +<p>“Of course he hasn’t, Walker!” he answered, +disgustedly. “He don’t dare to, and is throwing a +bluff. But I’ll show him, with his own machine, too, +if there’s anything to it at all!” The captain stooped +and, pulling from the opened valise a photograph of +the spot where the murder was committed, he dashed +it before Kanlan’s face. Instantly, as both the +captain and inspector turned to Trant’s galvanometer +needle, the little instrument showed a reaction. Up it +crept, higher and higher, over the scale of the dial, as +the sweat, surprised by the guilty picture from the +gambler’s hands, made the contact with the electrodes +in his palms and the current flowed through his body.</p> + +<p>“See! So it wasn’t all a lie!” Crowley pointed +triumphantly to the instrument. He stooped again +to the satchel and put a photograph of the body of the +murdered attorney before the suspect’s eyes. The +stolid Kanlan still held the muscles of his face firm +and no flush betrayed him; but again, as Crowley, +Sweeny, and Walker excitedly stared at the galvanometer +needle it jumped and registered the stronger +current. Crowley, with a victorious grunt, lifted the +blood-stained coat of the murdered attorney and +rubbed the sleeve against Kanlan’s cheek. At this, +and again and again with each presentation of objects +connected with the crime, the merciless little +galvanometer showed an ever-increasing reaction. Trant +shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“Jake, we got the goods on you now!” Crowley +took the gambler’s chin roughly between his tough +fists and pushed back his head until the uneasy eyes +met his own. “You’d best confess. You killed +him!”</p> + +<p>“I did not!” Kanlan choked.</p> + +<p>“You’re a liar! You killed him. I knew it, anyway. +If you were a nigger you’d have been lynched +before this!”</p> + +<p>For the first time since Crowley took the test into +his own hands, Trant, watching the galvanometer +needle, started in surprise. He gazed suddenly at +Kanlan’s olive face, surmounted by his curly black +hair, and smiled. The needle had jumped up higher +again, completing Crowley’s triumph. They filed out +of the cell, and back to the little office.</p> + +<p>“So I proved him on your own machine,” Crowley +rejoiced openly, “you four-flushing patent palmist!”</p> + +<p>“You’ve proved, Captain Crowley,” Trant returned +quietly, “what I already knew, that in your previous +examinations with Kanlan, and probably with the rest +also, you have ruined the value of those things you +have there for any proper test, by exhibiting them +with threats again and again. That was why I had to +make the test I did. I tell you once more that Kanlan +is not the murderer of Bronson. And I am glad to +be able to tell Miss Allison the same thing, as I +promised her, at the very earliest moment.” He picked up +the telephone receiver and gave the Allisons’ number. +But suddenly the receiver was wrenched from his +hand.</p> + +<p>“Not yet,” Inspector Walker commanded. “You’ll +tell Miss Allison nothing until we know more about +this case.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t ask you to release Kanlan yet, inspector,” +Trant said quietly. Crowley laughed offensively. +“That is, not until I have proved for you the proper +man in his place.” He drew a paper from his pocket. +“I cannot surely name him yet; but picking the most +likely of them from what I read, I advise you to +rearrest Caylis.”</p> + +<p>Crowley, throwing himself into a chair, burst into +loud laughter. “He chose Caylis, Sweeny, did you hear +that?” Crowley gasped. “That’s in the same class +as the rest of your performance, young fellow. Say, +I’m sorry not to be able to oblige you,” he went on, +derisively, “but, you see, Caylis was the only one of +the whole sixteen who <em>couldn’t</em> have killed Bronson; +for he was with me—talking to me—in the station, +from half past one that morning, half an hour before +the murder, till half past two, a half hour after!”</p> + +<p>Trant sprang to his feet excitedly. “He was?” +he cried. “Why didn’t you tell me that before? +Inspector Walker, I said a moment ago that I could not +be sure which of the other fifteen killed Bronson; but +now I say arrest Caylis—Caylis is the murderer!”</p> + +<p>Captain Crowley and Sweeny stared at him again, +as if believing him demented.</p> + +<p>“I would try to explain, Inspector Walker,” said +Trant, “but believe me, I mean no offense when I +say that I think it would be absolutely useless now. +But—” he hesitated, as the inspector turned coldly +away. “Inspector Walker, you said this morning you +knew Kanlan from his birth. How much negro blood +is there in him?”</p> + +<p>“How did you know that?” cried Walker, staring +at Trant in amazement. “He’s always passed for +white. He’s one eighth nigger. But not three people +know it. Who told you?”</p> + +<p>“The galvanometer,” Trant replied, quietly, “the +same way it told me that he was innocent and Crowley’s +test useless. Now, will you rearrest Caylis at +once and hold him till I can get the galvanometer on +him?”</p> + +<p>“I will, young fellow!” Walker promised, still +staring at him. “If only for that nigger blood.”</p> + +<p>But Crowley had one more shot to make. “Say, +you,” he interrupted, “you threw a bluff about an +hour back that the man who killed Bronson got the +idea from the <i>News</i>. Sweeny, here, has been having +these fellows shadowed since weeks before the +murder. Sweeny knows what papers they read.” He +turned to the detective. “Sweeny, what paper did +Kanlan always read?”</p> + +<p>“The <i>News</i>.”</p> + +<p>“And Caylis—what did he <em>never</em> read?”</p> + +<p>“The <i>News</i>,” the detective answered.</p> + +<p>“Well, what have you for that now, son?” Crowley +swung back.</p> + +<p>“Only thanks, Captain Crowley, for that additional +help. Inspector Walker, I am willing to rest my case +against Caylis upon the fact that he was with Crowley +at two o’clock. That alone is enough to hang him, +and not as an accessory, but as the principal who +himself struck the blow. But as there obviously was an +accessory—and what Crowley has just said makes +it more certain—perhaps I had better make as sure +of that accessory, and also get a better answer for the +real mystery, which is why and how Bronson left his +house and went in that direction at that time in the +morning, before I give Miss Allison the news for +which she is waiting.”</p> + +<p>He took his hat and left them staring after him.</p> + +<hr> + +<p>An hour later Trant jumped from a North Side +car and hurried down Superior Street. Two blocks +east of the car line he recognized from the familiar +pictures in the newspapers the frescoed and once +fashionable front of the Mitchell boarding house, where +Bronson had lived. He was seeing it for the first +time, but with barely more than a curious glance, he +went on toward the place, a block east, where the +attorney’s body had been found. He noted carefully +the character of the buildings on both sides of the +street.</p> + +<p>There was a grocery, between two old mansions; +beyond the next house a cigar store; then another +boarding house, and the electroplater’s shop before +which the body was found. The little shop, smelling +strongly of the oils and acids used in the electroplater’s +trade, was of one story. Trant noted the convenient +vestibule flush with the walk, and the position of the +street lamp which would throw its light on anyone +approaching, while concealing with a dark shadow one +waiting in the vestibule.</p> + +<p>The physical arrangement was all as he had seen +it a score of times in the newspapers; but as he stared +about, the true key to the mystery of Bronson’s death +came to him magnified a hundred times in its intensity. +Who waited there in that vestibule and struck +the blow which slew Bronson, he had felt from the +first would be at once answerable under scientific +investigation. But the other question, how could the +murderer wait so confidently there, knowing that +Bronson would come out of his house alone at that +time of the night and pass that way, was less simple +of solution.</p> + +<p>He glanced beyond the shop to the house where, +Inspector Walker had told him, the questionable Mrs. +Hawtin lived. Beyond that he saw a sign—that +of a Dr. O’Connor. He swung about and returned +to the house where Bronson had boarded.</p> + +<p>“Tell Mrs. Mitchell that Mr. Trant, who is working +with Inspector Walker, wishes to speak with her,” +he said to the maid, and he had a moment to estimate +the parlor before the mistress of the house entered.</p> + +<p>A white-faced, brown-eyed little boy of seven, with +pallid cheeks and golden hair, had fled between the +portières as Trant entered. The room was not at all +typical of the boarding house. Its ornament and its +arrangement showed the imprint of a decided, if not +cultivated, feminine personality. The walls lacked the +usual faded family portraits, and there was an entire +absence of ancient knickknacks to give evidence of a +past gentility. So he was not surprised when the mistress +of this house entered, pretty after a spectacular +fashion, impressing him with a quiet reserve of +passion and power.</p> + +<p>“I am always ready to see anyone who comes to +help poor Mr. Bronson,” she said.</p> + +<p>The little boy, who had fled at Trant’s approach, +ran to her. But even as she sat with her arms about +the child, Trant tried in vain to cloak her with that +atmosphere of motherliness of which Miss Allison had +spoken.</p> + +<p>“I heard so, Mrs. Mitchell,” said Trant. “But as +you have had to tell the painful details so many times +to the police and the reporters, I shall not ask you for +them again.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean,” she looked up quickly, “that you +bring me news instead of coming to ask it?”</p> + +<p>“No, I want your help, but only in one particular. +You must have known Mr. Bronson’s habits and needs +more intimately than any other person. Recently you +may have thought of some possible reason for his +going out in that manner and at that time, other than +that held by the police.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I wish I could, Mr. Trant!” the woman cried. +“But I cannot!”</p> + +<p>“I saw the sign of a doctor—Doctor O’Connor—just +beyond the place where he was killed. Do you +think it possible that he was going to Doctor +O’Connor’s, or have you never thought of that?”</p> + +<p>“I thought of that, Mr. Trant,” the woman returned, +a little defiantly. “I tried to hope, at first, +that that might be the reason for his going out. But, +as I had to tell the detectives who asked me of that +some time ago, I know that Mr. Bronson so intensely +disliked Doctor O’Connor that he could not have been +going to him, no matter how urgent the need. +Besides, Doctor Carmeachal, who always attended him, +lives around this corner, the other way.” She +indicated the direction of the car line.</p> + +<p>“I see,” Trant acknowledged, thoughtfully. “Yet, +if Mr. Bronson disliked Doctor O’Connor, he must +have met him. Was it here?” He leaned over and +took the hand of the pallid little boy. “Perhaps +Doctor O’Connor comes to see your son?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, Mr. Trant!” the child put in eagerly. +“Doctor O’Connor always comes to see me. I like +Doctor O’Connor.”</p> + +<p>“Still, I agree with you, Mrs. Mitchell,” Trant +raised his eyes calmly to meet the woman’s suddenly +agitated ones, “that Mr. Bronson could scarcely have +been going to consult Doctor O’Connor for himself in +such a fashion and at—half past one.”</p> + +<p>“At two, Mr. Trant,” the woman corrected.</p> + +<p>“Ten minutes after, to be exact, if you mean when +the watch was stopped!” The woman arose suddenly, +with a motion sinuous as that of a startled tiger. +It was as though in the quiet parlor a note of passion +and alarm had been struck. Trant bowed quietly as +she rang for the maid to show him out. But when +he was alone with the maid in the hall his eyes flashed +suddenly.</p> + +<p>“Tell me,” he demanded, swiftly, “the night Mr. +Bronson was killed, was there anything the matter +with the telephone?”</p> + +<p>The girl hesitated and stared at him queerly. +“Why, yes, sir,” she said. “A man had to come +next day to fix it.”</p> + +<p>“The break was on the inside—I mean, the man +worked in the house?”</p> + +<p>“Why—yes, sir.” The maid had opened the +door. Trant stopped with a smothered exclamation +and picked up a newspaper just delivered. He spread +it open and saw that it was the five o’clock edition of +the <i>News</i>.</p> + +<p>“This is Mrs. Mitchell’s paper,” he demanded, “the +one she always reads?”</p> + +<p>“Why, yes, sir,” the girl answered again.</p> + +<p>Trant paused to consider. “Tell Mrs. Mitchell +everything I asked you,” he decided finally, and +hurried down the steps and back to the police station.</p> + +<p>In the room where the desk sergeant told him +Inspector Walker was awaiting him Trant found both +Crowley and Sweeny with the big officer, and a fourth +man, a stranger to him. The stranger was slight and +dark. He had a weak, vain face, but one of startling +beauty, with great, lazy brown eyes, filled with +childlike innocence. He twisted his mustache and +measured Trant curiously, as the blunt, red-headed young +man entered.</p> + +<p>“So this is the fellow,” he asked Crowley, derisively, +“that made you think I sent a double to talk +with you while I went out to do Bronson?”</p> + +<p>“Will you have Caylis taken out of the room for +a few moments, inspector?” Trant requested, in reply. +The inspector motioned to Sweeny, who led out the +prisoner.</p> + +<p>“Where’s your accessory?” asked Crowley, +grinning.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you presently,” Trant put him off. “I +want to test Caylis without his knowing anything +unusual is being tried. Captain Crowley, can we have +the brass-knobbed chair from your office?”</p> + +<p>“What for?” Crowley demanded.</p> + +<p>“I will show you when I have it.”</p> + +<p>At Walker’s nod Crowley brought in the chair. It +was a deep, high-backed, wooden chair, with high +arms; and on each arm was a brass knob, so placed +that a person sitting in the chair would almost inevitably +place his palms over them. As the captain brought +in the chair, Trant opened his suit case and took out +his galvanometer, batteries and wires. Cutting off the +cylinder electrodes which Kanlan had held in his hands +during the test of that morning, Trant ran the wires +under each arm of the chair and made a contact with +each brass knob. He connected them with the battery, +which he hid under the chair, and with the galvanometer +dial, which he placed behind the chair upon +a table, concealing it behind his hat.</p> + +<p>He seated himself in the chair and grasped the +knobs in his palms. With his hands dry no perceptible +current passed through his body from knob to +knob to register upon the dial.</p> + +<p>“Scare me!” he suddenly commanded the +inspector.</p> + +<p>“What?” Walker bent his brows.</p> + +<p>“Scare me, and watch the needle.”</p> + +<p>Walker, half comprehending, fumbled in the +drawer of a desk, straightened suddenly, a cocked +revolver in his hand, and snapped it at Trant’s head. At +once the needle of the galvanometer leaped across the +scale, and Crowley and Walker both stared.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, inspector,” said Trant as he rose from +the chair. “It works very well; you see, my palms +couldn’t help sweating when you snapped the gun at +me before I appreciated that it wasn’t loaded. Now, +we’ll test Caylis as we did Kanlan.”</p> + +<p>The inspector went to the door, took Caylis from +Sweeny, and led him to the chair.</p> + +<p>“Sit down,” he said. “Mr. Trant wants to talk to +you.”</p> + +<p>The childlike, brown eyes, covertly alert and watchful, +followed Trant, and Caylis nervously grasped the +two inviting knobs on the arms of his chair. Walker +and Crowley, standing where they could watch both +Trant and the galvanometer dial, saw that the needle +stood where it had stood for Trant before Walker +put the revolver to his head.</p> + +<p>Trant quietly took from his pocket the newspaper +containing the false account of Johanson’s escape, and, +looking about as though for a place to put it—as he +had done in his trial of Kanlan—laid it, with the +Johanson paragraph uppermost, in Caylis’s lap. +Walker smothered an exclamation; Crowley looked +up startled. The needle—which had remained so +still when the paper was laid upon Kanlan’s +knee—had jumped across the scale.</p> + +<p>Caylis gave no sign; his hands still grasped the brass +knobs nervously; his face was quiet and calm. Trant +took from his pocket the little phial refilled with +banana oil and emptied its contents on the floor as he +had done that morning. Again Walker and Crowley, +with startled eyes, watched the needle move. Trant +took his watch from his pocket, and, as in the morning, +before Caylis’s face he set it an hour ahead.</p> + +<p>“What are all these tricks?” said Caylis, +contemptuously.</p> + +<p>But Walker and Crowley, with flushed faces bent +above the moving needle, paid no heed. Trant posted +himself between Caylis and the door.</p> + +<p>“You see now,” Trant cried, triumphantly, to the +police officers, “the difference between showing the +false account of the escape of Johanson to an innocent +man, and showing it to the man whom it sent out to +do murder. You see the difference between loosing +the stench of banana oil before a man who associates +nothing with it, and before the criminal who waited in +the vestibule of the electro-plater’s shop and can never +in his life smell banana oil again without its bringing +upon him the fear of the murderer. You see the +difference, too, Captain Crowley, between setting a watch +forward in front of a man to whom it can suggest nothing +criminal, and setting it an hour ahead in front of +the man who, after he had murdered Bronson—not +at two, but a little after one—stooped to the body +and set the watch at least an hour fast, then rushed in +to talk coolly with you, in order to establish an +incontestable alibi for the time he had so fixed for the +murder!”</p> + +<p>Police Captain Crowley, livid with the first flash +of fear that the murderer had made of him a tool, +swung threateningly toward Caylis. For a moment, +as though stiffened by the strain of following the +accusation, Caylis had sat apparently paralyzed. Now +in the sudden change from his absolute security to +complete despair, he faced Crowley, white as paper; +then, as his heart began to pound again, his skin +turned to purple. His handsome, vain face changed +to the face of a demon; his childlike eyes flared; he +sprang toward Trant. But when he had drawn the +two police officers together to stop his rush, he turned +and leaped for a window. Before he could dash it +open, Walker’s powerful hand clutched him back.</p> + +<p>“This, I think,” Trant gasped, and controlled himself, +as he surveyed the now weak and nerveless prisoner, +“should convince even Captain Crowley. But +it was not needed, Caylis. From the time Mrs. Mitchell +showed you the report of Johanson’s escape in the +<i>News</i> and you thought you could kill Bronson safely, +and you got her to send him out to you, until you had +struck him down, set his watch forward and rushed to +Crowley for your alibi, my case was complete.”</p> + +<p>“She—she”—Caylis’s hands clenched—“peached +on me—but you—got her?” he shouted +vengefully.</p> + +<p>Walker and Crowley turned to Trant in +amazement.</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Mitchell?” they demanded.</p> + +<p>“Yes—your wife, Caylis?” Trant pressed.</p> + +<p>“Yes, my wife, and <em>mine</em>,” the man hissed defiantly, +“eight years ago back in St. Louis till, till this +cursed Bronson broke up the gang and sent me over +the road for three years, and she got to thinking he +must be stuck on her and might marry her, because +he helped her, until—until she found out!”</p> + +<p>“Ah; I thought she had been your wife when I saw +you, after the boy; but, of course—” Trant checked +himself as he heard a knock on the door.</p> + +<p>“Miss Allison is in her carriage outside sir,” the +officer who had knocked saluted Inspector Walker. +“She has come to see you, sir. She says you sent no +word.” Walker looked from the cringing Caylis to +Trant.</p> + +<p>“We do not need Caylis any longer, inspector,” said +Trant. “I can tell Miss Allison all the facts now, +if you wish to have her hear them.”</p> + +<p>The door, which shut behind Crowley and his prisoner, +reopened almost immediately to admit the inspector, +and Miss Allison. With her fair, sweet face +flushed with the hope which had taken the place of the +white fear and defiance of the morning, Trant barely +knew her.</p> + +<p>“The inspector tells me, Mr. Trant,” she stretched +out both her hands to him, “that you have good news +for me—that Kanlan was not guilty—and so +Randolph was not going out as—as they said he was +when they killed him.”</p> + +<p>“No; he was not!” Trant returned, triumphantly. +“He was going instead on an errand of mercy, Miss +Allison, to summon a doctor for a little child whom +he had been told was suddenly and dangerously ill. +The telephone in the house had been broken, so at +the sudden summons he dashed out, without remembering +his danger. I am glad to be able to tell you of +that fine, brave thing when I must tell you, also, the +terrible truth that the woman whom he had helped +and protected was the one who, in a fit of jealousy, +when she found he had merely meant to be kind to +her, sent him out to his death.”</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Mitchell?” the girl cried in horror. “Oh, +not Mrs. Mitchell!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mrs. Mitchell, for whom he had done so +much and whose past he protected, in the noblest way, +even from you. But as she was the wife of the criminal +we have just caught, I am glad to believe this +man played upon her old passions, so that for a while +he held his old sway over her and she did his bidding +without counting the consequences.</p> + +<p>“I told you this morning, Inspector Walker, that +I could not explain to you my conclusions in the test of +Kanlan. But I owe you now a full explanation. You +will recall that I commented upon the fact that the +crime which was puzzling you was committed within +so short a time after the knowledge of Mr. Bronson’s +engagement became known, that I divined a possible +connection. But that, at best, was only indirect. The +first direct thing which struck me was the circumstance +that the man waited in the vestibule of the +electro-plater’s shop. I was certain that the very +pungent fruit-ether odor of banana oil—the thinning +material used by electro-platers in preparing their +lacquers—must be forever intimately connected with +the crime in the mind of the man who waited in that +vestibule. To no one else could that odor connect +itself with crime. So I knew that if I could +test all sixteen men it would be child’s play to pick the +murderer. But such a test was cumbersome. And +the next circumstance you gave me made it unnecessary. +I mean the fact of the ‘fast watch’ which, +Miss Allison was able to tell me, could not have +been fast at all. I saw that the watch must therefore +have been set forward at least ten minutes, probably +much longer. Who, between half past ten and two, +could have done this, and for what reason? The one +convincing possibility was that the assassin had set +it forward, trusting it would not be found till morning, +and his only object could have been to establish +for himself an alibi—for two o’clock.</p> + +<p>“I surprised you, therefore, by assuring you, even +before I saw Kanlan, that he was innocent, because +Kanlan had no alibi whatever. I proved his innocence +to my own satisfaction by exhibiting before him +without exciting any emotional reaction at all, the +report in the <i>News</i> which, I felt fairly sure, must have +had something to do with the crime; by loosing the +smell of banana oil, and setting forward a watch in +his presence. The objects which Crowley used had +been so thoroughly connected with the crime in +Kanlan’s mind that—though he is innocent—they caused +reactions to which I paid no attention, except the one +reaction which, at Crowley’s threat, told me of +Kanlan’s negro blood. As for the rest, they merely +scared Kanlan as your pistol scared me, and as they +would have scared any innocent man under the same +conditions. My own tests could cause reactions only +in the guilty man.</p> + +<p>“That man, I think you understand now,” Trant +continued rapidly, “I was practically sure of when +Crowley told me of Caylis’s alibi. You have just +seen the effect upon him of the same tests I tried on +Kanlan, and the conclusive evidence the galvanometer +gave. The fact that Caylis himself never read the +<i>News</i> only contributed to my certainty that another +person was concerned, a person who could have either +decoyed or sent Mr. Bronson out. So I went to +the place, found the doctor’s sign just beyond, +discovered that that doctor treated, not Bronson, but the +little Mitchell boy, that the telephone had been broken +inside the house that evening to furnish an excuse for +sending Bronson out, and that Mrs. Mitchell reads +the <i>News</i>.”</p> + +<p>“The Mitchell woman sent him out, of course,” +Walker checked him almost irritably. “Six blocks +away—Crowley ought to have her by now.”</p> + +<p>Miss Allison gathered herself together and arose. +She clutched the inspector’s sleeve. “Inspector +Walker, must you—” she faltered.</p> + +<p>“None of us is called upon to say how she shall be +punished, Miss Allison,” Trant said, compassionately. +“We must trust all to the twelve men who shall try +these two.” But to her eyes, searching his, Trant +seemed to be awaiting something. Suddenly the +telephone rang. Walker took up the receiver. “It’s +Crowley,” he cried. “He says Mrs. Mitchell +skipped—cleared. You could have taken her,” he accused +Trant, “but you let her go!”</p> + +<p>Trant stood watching the face of Miss Allison, +unmoved. The desk sergeant burst in upon them.</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Mitchell’s outside, inspector! She said +she’s come to give herself up!”</p> + +<p>“You counted upon that, I suppose,” Walker turned +again upon Trant. “But don’t do it again,” he +warned, “for the sake of what’s before you!”</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter" id="ch03"> + +<h2>III. <br> The Red Dress</h2> + +<p>“Another morning; and nothing! Three days gone +and no word, no sign from her; or any mark of +weakening!”</p> + +<p>The powerful man at the window clenched his hands. +Then he swung about to face his confidential secretary +and stared at her uncertainly. It was the tenth +time that morning, and the fiftieth time in the three +days just gone, that Walter Eldredge, the young +president of the great Chicago drygoods house of +Eldredge and Company, had paused, incapable of +continuing business.</p> + +<p>“Never mind that letter, Miss Webster,” he +commanded. “But tell me again—are you sure that no +one has come to see me, and there has been no +message, about my wife—I mean about Edward—about +Edward?”</p> + +<p>“No; no one, I am sure, Mr. Eldredge!”</p> + +<p>“Send Mr. Murray to me!” he said.</p> + +<p>“Raymond, something more effective must be +done!” he cried, as his brother-in-law appeared in the +doorway. “It is impossible for matters to remain +longer in this condition!” His face grew gray. “I +am going to put it into the hands of the police!”</p> + +<p>“The police!” cried Murray. “After the way the +papers treated you and Isabel when you married? +You and Isabel in the papers again, and the police +making it a public scandal! Surely there’s still some +private way! Why not this fellow Trant. You must +have followed in the papers the way he got immediate +action in the Bronson murder mystery, after the police +force was at fault for two weeks. He’s our man for +this sort of thing, Walter! Where can we get his +address?”</p> + +<p>“Try the University Club,” said Eldredge.</p> + +<p>Murray lifted the desk phone. “He’s a member; +he’s there. What shall I tell him,” Eldredge +himself took up the conversation.</p> + +<p>“Yes! Mr. Trant? Mr. Trant, this is Walter +Eldredge, of Eldredge and Company. Yes; there is a +private matter—something has happened in my family; +I cannot tell you over the phone. If you could +come to me here. . . . Yes! It is criminal.” +His voice broke. “For God’s sake come and help +me!”</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later a boy showed Trant into the +young president’s private room. If the psychologist +had never seen Walter Eldredge’s portrait in the +papers he could have seen at a glance that he was a man +trained to concentrate his attention on large matters; +and he as quickly recognized that the pale, high-bred, +but weak features of Eldredge’s companion belonged +to a dependent, subordinate to the other.</p> + +<p>Eldredge had sprung nervously to his feet and +Trant was conscious that he was estimating him with +the acuteness of one accustomed to judge another +quickly and to act upon his judgment. Yet it was +Murray who spoke first.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Eldredge wished to apply to the police this +morning, Mr. Trant,” he explained, patronizingly, “in +a matter of the most delicate nature; but I—I am +Raymond Murray, Mr. Eldredge’s brother-in-law—persuaded +him to send for you. I did this, trusting +quite as much to your delicacy in guarding Mr. Eldredge +from public scandal as to your ability to help us +directly. We understand that you are not a regular +private detective.”</p> + +<p>“I am a psychologist, Mr. Eldredge,” Trant replied +to the older man, stifling his irritation at +Murray’s manner. “I have merely made some practical +applications of simple psychological experiments, which +should have been put into police procedure years ago. +Whether I am able to assist you or not, you may be +sure that I will keep your confidence.”</p> + +<p>“Then this is the case, Trant.” Murray came to +the point quickly. “My nephew, Edward Eldredge, +Walter’s older son, was kidnaped three days ago.”</p> + +<p>“What?” Trant turned from one to the other in +evident astonishment.</p> + +<p>“Since the Whitman case in Ohio,” continued +Murray, “and the Bradley kidnaping in St. Louis last +week—where they got the description of the woman +but have caught no one yet—the papers predicted an +epidemic of child stealing. And it has begun in +Chicago with the stealing of Walter’s son!”</p> + +<p>“That didn’t surprise me—that the boy may be +missing,” Trant rejoined. “But it surprised me, Mr. +Eldredge, that no one has heard of it! Why did you +not at once give it the greatest publicity? Why have +you not called in the police? What made you wait +three days before calling in even me?”</p> + +<p>“Because the family,” Murray replied, “have +known from the first that it was Mrs. Eldredge who +had the child abducted.”</p> + +<p>“<em>Mrs. Eldredge?</em>” Trant cried incredulously. +“Your wife, sir?” he appealed to the older man.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mr. Trant,” Eldredge answered, miserably.</p> + +<p>“Then why have you sent for me at all?”</p> + +<p>“Because in three days we have gained nothing +from her,” the brother-in-law replied before Eldredge +could answer. “And, from the accounts of your ability, +we thought you could, in some way, learn from her +where the child is concealed.”</p> + +<p>The young president of Eldredge and Company was +twisting under the torture of these preliminaries. But +Trant turned curiously to Murray. “Mrs. Eldredge +is not your sister?”</p> + +<p>“No; not the present Mrs. Eldredge. My sister, +Walter’s first wife, died six years ago, when +Edward was born. She gave her life for the boy whom +the second Mrs. Eldredge—” he remembered himself +as Eldredge moved quickly.</p> + +<p>“Isabel, my second wife, Mr. Trant,” Eldredge +burst out in the bitterness of having to explain to a +stranger his most intimate emotion, “as I thought all +the world knew, was my private secretary—my +stenographer—in this office. We were married a little +over two years ago. If you remember the way the +papers treated her then, you will understand what it +would mean if this matter became public! The +boy—” he hesitated. “I suppose I must make the +circumstances plain to you. Seven years ago I +married Edith Murray, Raymond’s sister. A year later +she died. About the same time my father died, and +I had to take up the business. Mrs. Murray, who was +in the house at the time of Edith’s death, was good +enough to stay and take charge of my child and my +household.”</p> + +<p>“And Mr. Murray? He stayed too?”</p> + +<p>“Raymond was in college. Afterwards he came +to my house, naturally. Two years ago I married my +second wife. At Mrs. Eldredge’s wish, as much as +my own, the Murrays remained with us. My wife +appreciated even better than I that her training had +scarcely fitted her to take up at once her social duties: +the newspapers had prejudiced society against her, so +Mrs. Murray remained to introduce her socially.”</p> + +<p>“I see—for over two years. But meanwhile Mrs. +Eldredge had taken charge of the child?”</p> + +<p>“My wife was—not at ease with the boy.” Eldredge +winced at the direct question. “Edward liked +her, but—I found her a hundred times crying over +her incompetence with children, and she was contented +to let Mrs. Murray continue to look after him. But +after her own son was born—”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” said Trant, expectantly.</p> + +<p>“I shall conceal nothing. After her own son was +born, I am obliged to admit that Mrs. Eldredge’s +attitude changed. She became insistent to have charge +of Edward, and his grandmother, Mrs. Murray, still +hesitated to trust Isabel. But finally I agreed to give +my wife charge of everything and complete control +over Edward. If all went well, Mrs. Murray was to +reopen her old home and leave us, when—it was +Tuesday afternoon, three days ago, Mr. Trant—my +wife took Edward, with her maid, out in the motor. +It was the boy’s sixth birthday. It was almost the +first time in his life he had left the house to go any +distance without his grandmother. My wife did not +bring him back.</p> + +<p>“Why she never brought him back—what happened +to the boy, Mr. Trant,” Eldredge stooped to a +private drawer for papers, “I wish you to determine +for yourself from the evidence here. As soon as I +saw how personal a matter it was, I had my secretary, +Miss Webster, take down the evidence of the four +people who saw the child taken away: my chauffeur, Mrs. +Eldredge’s maid, Miss Hendricks and Mrs. Eldredge. +The chauffeur, Morris, has been in my employ for +five years. I am confident that he is truthful. +Moreover, he distinctly prefers Mrs. Eldredge over +everyone else. The maid, Lucy Carew, has been also +singularly devoted to my wife. She, too, is truthful.</p> + +<p>“The testimony of the third person—Miss +Hendricks—is far the most damaging against my wife. +Miss Hendricks makes a direct and inevasive charge; +it is practical proof. For I must tell you truthfully, +Mr. Trant, that Miss Hendricks is far the best +educated and capable witness of all. She saw the whole +affair much nearer than any of the others. She is a +person of irreproachable character, a rich old maid, +living with her married sister on the street corner +where the kidnaping occurred. Moreover, her testimony, +though more elaborate, is substantiated in every +important particular by both Morris and Lucy Carew.”</p> + +<p>Eldredge handed over the first pages.</p> + +<p>“Against these, Mr. Trant, is this statement of—my +wife’s. My home faces the park, and is the second +house from the street corner. There is, however, no +driveway entrance into the park at this intersecting +street. There are entrances a long block and a half +away in one direction and more than two blocks in +the other. But the winding drive inside the park +approaches the front of the house within four hundred +feet, and is separated from it by the park +greensward.”</p> + +<p>“I understand.” Trant took the pages of evidence +eagerly. Eldredge went to the window and stood +knotting the curtain cord in suspense. But Murray +crossed his legs, and, lighting a cigarette, watched +Trant attentively. Trant read the testimony of the +chauffeur, which was dated by Eldredge as taken +Tuesday afternoon at five o’clock. It read thus:</p> + +<blockquote class="letter"> + + <p>Mrs. Eldredge herself called to me about one o’clock to + have the motor ready at half-past two. Mrs. Eldredge + and her maid and Master Edward came down and got in. + We went through the park, then down the Lake Shore + Drive almost to the river and turned back. Mrs. Eldredge + told me to return more slowly; we were almost forty + minutes returning where we had been less than twenty coming + down. Reaching the park, she wanted to go slower yet. + She was very nervous and undecided. She stopped the machine + three or four times while she pointed out things to + Master Edward. She kept me winding in and out the different + roads. Suddenly she asked me the time, and I told her it + was just four; and she told me to go home at once. But + on the curved park road in front of the house and about + four hundred feet away from it, I “killed” my engine. + I was some minutes starting it. Mrs. Eldredge kept + asking how soon we could go on; but I could not tell her. + After she had asked me three or four times, she opened the + door and let Master Edward down. I thought he was + coming around to watch me—a number of other boys had been + standing about me just before. But she sent him across the + park lawn toward the house. I was busy with my engine. + Half a minute later the maid screamed. She jumped down + and grabbed me. A woman was making off with Master + Edward, running with him up the cross street toward the + car line. Master Edward was crying and fighting. Just + then my engines started. The maid and I jumped into the + machine and went around by the park driveway as fast as + we could to the place where the woman had picked up + Master Edward. This did not take more than two minutes, but + the woman and Master Edward had disappeared. Mrs. + Eldredge pointed out a boy to me who was running up the + street, but when we got to him it was not Master Edward. + We went all over the neighborhood at high speed, but we + did not find him. I think we might have found him if Mrs. + Eldredge had not first sent us after the other boy. I did + not see the woman who carried off Master Edward very + plainly. She was small.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>Eldredge swung about and fixed on the young +psychologist a look of anxious inquiry. But without +comment, Trant picked up the testimony of the maid. +It read:</p> + +<blockquote class="letter"> + + <p>Mrs. Eldredge told me after luncheon that we were going + out in the automobile with Master Edward. Master Edward + did not want to go, because it was his birthday and he + had received presents from his grandmother with which he + wanted to play. Mrs. Eldredge—who was excited—made + him come. We went through the park and down the Lake + Shore Drive and came back again. It seemed to me that + Mrs. Eldredge was getting more excited, but I thought that + it was because this was the first time she had been out with + Master Edward. But when we had got back almost to the + house the automobile broke down, and she became more + excited still. Finally she said to Master Edward that he + would better get out and run home, and she helped him out + of the car and he started. We could see him all the way, + and could see right up to the front steps of the house. But + before he got there a woman came running around the + corner and started to run away with him. He screamed, and + I screamed, too, and took hold of Mrs. Eldredge’s arm and + pointed. But Mrs. Eldredge just sat still and watched. + Then I jumped up, and Mrs. Eldredge, who was shaking all + over, put out her hand. But I got past her and jumped + out of the automobile. I screamed again, and grabbed the + chauffeur, and pointed. Just then the engine started. We + both got back into the automobile and went around by the + driveway in the park. All this happened as fast as you can + think, but we did not see either Master Edward or the + woman. Mrs. Eldredge did not cry or take on at all. I am + sure she did not scream when the woman picked up Master + Edward, but she kept on being very much excited. I saw + the woman who carried Master Edward off very plainly. + She was a small blond, and wore a hat with violet-colored + flowers in it and a violet-colored tailor-made dress. She + looked like a lady.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>Trant laid the maid’s testimony aside and looked up +quickly.</p> + +<p>“There is one extremely important thing, Mr. +Eldredge,” he said. “Were the witnesses examined +separately?—that is, none of them heard the testimony +given by any other?”</p> + +<p>“None of them, Mr. Trant.”</p> + +<p>Then Trant picked up the testimony of Miss +Hendricks, which read as follows:</p> + +<blockquote class="letter"> + + <p>It so happened that I was looking out of the library + window—though I do not often look out at the window for + fear people will think I am watching them—when I saw + the automobile containing Mrs. Eldredge, Edward, the maid, + and the chauffeur stop at the edge of the park driveway + opposite the Eldredge home. The chauffeur descended and + began doing something to the front of the car. But Mrs. + Eldredge looked eagerly around in all directions, and finally + toward the street corner on which our house stands; and + almost immediately I noticed a woman hurrying down the + cross street toward the corner. She had evidently just + descended from a street car, for she came from the direction + of the car line; <em>and her haste made me understand at once + that she was late for some appointment</em>. As soon as Mrs. + Eldredge caught sight of the woman she lifted Edward from + the automobile to the ground, and pushed him in the woman’s + direction. She sent him across the grass toward her. At + first, however, the woman did not catch sight of Edward. + Then she saw the automobile, raised her hand and made a + signal. <em>The signal was returned by Mrs. Eldredge</em>, who + pointed to the child. Immediately the woman ran forward, + pulled Edward along in spite of his struggles, and ran + toward the car line. It all happened very quickly. I am + confident the kidnaping was prearranged between Mrs. Eldredge + and the woman. I saw the woman plainly. She was small + and dark. Her face was marked by smallpox and she looked + like an Italian. She wore a flat hat with white feathers, a + gray coat, and a black skirt.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>“You say you can have no doubt of Miss +Hendricks’ veracity?” asked Trant.</p> + +<p>Eldredge shook his head, miserably. “I have +known Miss Hendricks for a number of years, and I +should as soon accuse myself of falsehood. She came +running over to the house as soon as this had happened, +and it was from her account that I first learned, +through Mrs. Murray, that something had occurred.”</p> + +<p>Trant’s glance fell to the remaining sheets in his +hand, the testimony of Mrs. Eldredge; and the +psychologist’s slightly mismated eyes—blue and +gray—flashed suddenly as he read the following:</p> + +<blockquote class="letter"> + + <p>I had gone with Edward for a ride in the park to celebrate + his birthday. It was the first time we had been out + together. We stopped to look at the flowers and the + animals. My husband had not told me that he expected to be + home from the store early, but Edward reminded me that + on his birthday his father always came home in the middle + of the afternoon and brought him presents. The time passed + quickly, and I was surprised when I learned that it was + already four o’clock. I was greatly troubled to think that + Edward’s father might be awaiting him, and we hurried + back as rapidly as possible. We had almost reached the + house when the engine of the automobile stopped. It took + a very long time to fix it, and Edward was all the time + growing more excited and impatient to see his father. It + was only a short distance across the park to the house, + which we could see plainly. Finally I lifted Edward out + of the machine and told him to run across the grass to the + house. He did so, but he went very slowly. I motioned + to him to hurry. Then suddenly I saw the woman coming + toward Edward, and the minute I saw her I was frightened. + She came toward him slowly, stopped, and talked with him + for quite a long time. She spoke loudly—I could hear her + voice but I could not make out what she said. Then she + took his hand—it must have been ten minutes after she + had first spoken to him. He struggled with her, but she + pulled him after her. She went rather slowly. But it took + a very long time, perhaps fifteen minutes, for the motor to + go around by the drive; and when we got to the spot + Edward and the woman had disappeared. We looked everywhere, + but could not find any trace of them, and she would + have had time to go a considerable distance—</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>Trant looked up suddenly at Eldredge who had +left his position by the window and over Trant’s +shoulder was reading the testimony. His face was gray.</p> + +<p>“I asked Mrs. Eldredge,” the husband said, pitifully, +“why, if she suspected the woman from the first, +and so much time elapsed, she did not try to prevent +the kidnaping, and—she would not answer me!”</p> + +<p>Trant nodded, and read the final paragraph of Mrs. +Eldredge’s testimony:</p> + +<blockquote class="letter"> + + <p>The woman who took Edward was unusually large—a + very big woman, not stout, but tall and big. She was very + dark, with black hair, and she wore a red dress and a hat + with red flowers in it.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>The psychologist laid down the papers and looked +from one to the other of his companions reflectively. +“What had happened that afternoon before Mrs. +Eldredge and the boy went motoring?” he asked +abruptly.</p> + +<p>“Nothing out of the ordinary, Mr. Trant,” said +Eldredge. “Why do you ask that?”</p> + +<p>Trant’s fingertip followed on the table the last +words of the evidence. “And what woman does Mrs. +Eldredge know that answers that description—‘unusually +large, not stout, but tall and big, very dark, +with black hair?’ ”</p> + +<p>“No one,” said Eldredge.</p> + +<p>“No one except,” young Murray laughed frankly, +“my mother. Trant,” he said, contemptuously, +“don’t start any false leads of that sort! My mother +was with Walter at the time the kidnaping took +place!”</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Murray was with me,” Eldredge assented, +“from four till five o’clock that afternoon. She has +nothing to do with the matter. But, Trant, if you +see in this mass of accusation one ray of hope that +Mrs. Eldredge is not guilty, for God’s sake give it to +me, for I need it!”</p> + +<p>The psychologist ran his fingers through his red hair +and arose, strongly affected by the appeal of the +white-lipped man who faced him. “I can give you more +than a ray of hope, Mr. Eldredge,” he said. “I am +almost certain that Mrs. Eldredge not only did not +cause your son’s disappearance, but that she knows +absolutely nothing about the matter. And I am +nearly, though not quite, so sure that this is not a case +of kidnaping at all!”</p> + +<p>“What, Trant? Man, you can’t tell me that from +that evidence?”</p> + +<p>“I do, Mr. Eldredge!” Trant returned a little +defiantly. “Just from this evidence!”</p> + +<p>“But, Trant,” the husband cried, trying to grasp the +hope this stranger gave him against all his better +reason, “if you can think that, why did she describe +everything—the time, the circumstance, the size and +appearance of the woman and even the color of her +dress—so differently from all the rest? Why did +she <em>lie</em> when she told me this, Mr. Trant?”</p> + +<p>“I do not think she lied, Mr. Eldredge.”</p> + +<p>“Then the rest lied and it <em>is</em> a conspiracy of the +witnesses against her?”</p> + +<p>“No; no one lied, I think. And there was no +conspiracy. That is my inference from the testimony +and the one other fact we have—that there had been +no demand for ransom.”</p> + +<p>Eldredge stared at him almost wildly. His +brother-in-law moved up beside him.</p> + +<p>“Then where is my son, and who has taken him?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot say yet,” Trant answered. There was +a knock on the door.</p> + +<p>“You asked to have everything personal brought +to you at once, Mr. Eldredge,” said Miss Webster, +holding out a note. “This just came in the ten +o’clock delivery.” Eldredge snatched it from her—a +soiled, creased envelope bearing a postmark of the +Lake View substation just west of his home. It was +addressed in a scrawling, illiterate hand, and +conspicuously marked personal. He tore it open, caught the +import of it almost at a glance; then with a smothered +cry threw it on the desk in front of Murray, who read +it aloud.</p> + +<blockquote class="missive"> + + <p>Yure son E. is safe, and we have him where he is not in + dangir. Your wife has not payed us the money she promised + us for taking him away, and we do not consider we are + bound any longer by our bargain with her. If you will put + the money she promised (one hund. dollars) on the seat + behind Lincoln’s statue in the Park tonight at ten thurty (be + exact) you will get yure son E. back. Look out for + trubble to the boy if you notify the police.</p> + + <p>N. B.—If you try to make any investigation about this + case our above promiss will not be kept.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>“Well, Trant, what do you say now?” asked +Murray.</p> + +<p>“That it was the only thing needed,” Trant +answered, triumphantly, “to complete my case. Now, I +am sure I need only go to your house to make a short +examination of Mrs. Eldredge and the case against +her!”</p> + +<p>He swung about suddenly at a stifled exclamation +behind him, and found himself looking into the white +face of the private secretary; but she turned at once +and left the office. Trant swung back to Murray. +“No, thank you,” he said, refusing the proffer of the +paper. “I read from the marks made upon minds +by a crime, not from scrawls and thumbprints upon +paper. And my means of reading those marks are +fortunately in my possession this morning. No, I do +not mean that I have other evidence upon this case +than that you have just given me, Mr. Eldredge,” +Trant explained. “I refer to my psychological +apparatus which, the express company notified me, +arrived from New York this morning. If you will let +me have my appliance delivered direct to your house +it will save much time.”</p> + +<p>“I will order it myself!” Eldredge took up the +telephone and quickly arranged the delivery.</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” Trant acknowledged. “And if you +will also see that I have a photograph, a souvenir +postal, or some sort of a picture of every possible +locality within a few blocks of your house you will +probably help in my examination greatly. Also,” he +checked himself and stood thoughtfully a moment, +“will you have these words”—he wrote “Armenia, +invitation, inviolate, sedate” and “pioseer” upon a +paper—“carefully lettered for me and brought to +your house?”</p> + +<p>“What?” Eldredge stared at the list in astonishment. +He looked up at Trant’s direct, intelligent features +and checked himself. “Is there not some mistake +in that last word, Mr. Trant? ‘Pioseer’ is not +a word at all.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t wish it to be,” Trant replied. His glance +fell suddenly on a gaudily lithographed card—an +advertisement showing the interior of a room. He took +it from the desk.</p> + +<p>“This will be very helpful, Mr. Eldredge,” he said. +“If you will have this brought with the other cards +I think that will be all. At three o’clock, then, at +your house?”</p> + +<p>He left them, looking at each other in perplexity. +He stopped a moment at a newspaper office, and then +returned to the University Club thoughtfully. By the +authority of all precedent procedure of the world, he +recognized how hopelessly the case stood against the +stepmother of the missing child. But by the +authority of the new science—the new knowledge of +humanity—which he was laboring to establish, he felt +certain he could save her.</p> + +<p>Yet he fully appreciated that he could accomplish +nothing until his experimental instruments were +delivered. He must be content to wait until he could +test his belief in Mrs. Eldredge’s innocence for +himself, and at the same time convince Eldredge +conclusively. So he played billiards, and lunched, and was +waiting for the hour he had set with Eldredge, when +he was summoned to the telephone. A man who said +he was Mrs. Eldredge’s chauffeur, informed him that +Mrs. Eldredge was in the motor before the club and +she wished to speak with him at once.</p> + +<p>Trant immediately went down to the motor.</p> + +<p>The single woman in the curtained limousine had +drawn back into the farthest corner to avoid the +glances of passersby. But as Trant came toward the +car she leaned forward and searched his face +anxiously.</p> + +<p>She was a wonderfully beautiful woman, though +her frail face bore evidences of long continued anxiety +and of present excitement. Her hair was unusually +rich in color; the dilated, defiant eyes were deep and +flawless; the pale cheeks were clear and soft, and the +trembling lips were curved and perfect. Trant, +before a word had been exchanged between them, +recognized the ineffable appeal of her personality.</p> + +<p>“I must speak with you, Mr. Trant,” she said, as +the chauffeur at her nod, opened the door of the car. +“I cannot leave the motor. You must get in.”</p> + +<p>Trant stepped quietly into the limousine, filled with +the soft perfume of her presence. The chauffeur +closed the door behind him, and at once started the car.</p> + +<p>“My husband has consulted you, Mr. Trant, +regarding the—the trouble that has come upon us, +the—the disappearance of his son, Edward,” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Why do you not say at once, Mrs. Eldredge, that +you know he has consulted me and asked me to come +and examine you this afternoon? You must have +learned it through his secretary.”</p> + +<p>The woman hesitated. “It is true,” she said +nervously. “Miss Webster telephoned me. I see that +you have not forgotten that I was once my husband’s +stenographer, and—I still have friends in his +office.”</p> + +<p>“Then there is something you want to tell me that +you cannot tell in the presence of the others?”</p> + +<p>The woman turned, her large eyes meeting his with +an almost frightened expression, but she recovered +herself immediately. “No, Mr. Trant; it is because +I know that he—my husband—that no one is making +any search, or trying to recover Edward—except +through watching me.”</p> + +<p>“That is true, Mrs. Eldredge,” the psychologist +helped her.</p> + +<p>“You must not do that too, Mr. Trant!” she +leaned toward him appealingly. “You must search +for the boy—my husband’s boy! You must not +waste time in questioning me, or in trying me with +your new methods! That is why I came to see you—to +tell you, on my word of honor, that I know nothing +of it!”</p> + +<p>“I should feel more certain if you would be frank +with me,” Trant returned, “and tell me what happened +on that afternoon before the child disappeared.”</p> + +<p>“We went motoring,” the woman replied.</p> + +<p>“Before you went motoring, Mrs. Eldredge,” the +psychologist pressed, “what happened?”</p> + +<p>She shrank suddenly, and turned upon him eyes +filled with unconquerable terror. He waited, but she +did not answer.</p> + +<p>“Did not some one tell you,” the psychologist +took a shot half in the dark, “or accuse you that +you were taking the child out in order to get rid of +him?”</p> + +<p>The woman fell back upon the cushions, chalk-white +and shuddering.</p> + +<p>“You have answered me,” Trant said quietly. He +glanced at her pityingly, and as she shrank from him, +he tingled with an unbidden sympathy for this +beautiful woman. “But in spite of the fact that you +never brought the boy back,” Trant cried impetuously, +“and in spite of—or rather because of all that is so +dark against you, believe me that I expect to clear +you before them all!” He glanced at his watch. “I +am glad that you have been taking me toward your +home, for it is almost time for my appointment with +your husband.”</p> + +<p>The car was running on the street bounding the park +on the west. It stopped suddenly before a great stone +house, the second from the intersecting street.</p> + +<p>Eldredge was running down the steps, and in a +moment young Murray came after him. The husband +opened the door of the limousine and helped his wife +tenderly up the steps. Murray and Trant followed +him together. Eldredge’s second wife—though she +could comprehend nothing of what lay behind Trant’s +assurance of help for her—met her husband’s look +with eyes that had suddenly grown bright. Murray +stared from the woman to Trant with disapproval. +He nodded to the psychologist to follow him into +Eldredge’s study on one side; but there he waited for +his brother-in-law to return to voice his reproach.</p> + +<p>“What have you been saying to her, Trant?” +Eldredge demanded sternly as he entered and shut the +door.</p> + +<p>“Only what I told you this morning,” the +psychologist answered—“that I believe her innocent. +And after seeing what relief it brought her, I can not +be sorry!”</p> + +<p>“You can’t?” Eldredge rebuked. “I can! When +I called you in you had the right to tell me whatever +you thought, however wild and without ground it was. +It could not hurt me much. But now you have +encouraged my wife still to hold out against us—still +to defy us and to deny that she knows anything +when—when, since we saw you, the case has become only +more conclusive against her. We have just discovered +a most startling confirmation of Miss Hendrick’s +evidence. Raymond, show him!” he gestured in sorry +triumph.</p> + +<p>Young Murray opened the library desk and pulled +out a piece of newspaper, which he put in Trant’s +hand. He pointed to the heading. “You see, Trant, +it is the account of the kidnaping in St. Louis which +occurred just before Edward was stolen.”</p> + +<blockquote class="article"> + + <p>All witnesses describe the kidnaper as a short, dark + woman, marked with smallpox. She wore a gray coat and + black skirt, a hat with white feathers, and appeared to be an + Italian.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>“I knew that. It exactly corresponds with the +woman described by Miss Hendricks,” Trant rejoined. +“I was aware of it this morning. But I can only +repeat that the case has turned more and more +conclusively in favor of Mrs. Eldredge.”</p> + +<p>“Why, even before we recognized the woman described +by Miss Hendricks the evidence was conclusive +against Isabel!” Murray shot back. “Listen! +She was nervously excited all that day; when the +woman snatched Edward, Isabel did nothing. She +denies she signaled the woman, but Miss Hendricks +saw the signal. Isabel says the automobile took fifteen +minutes making the circuit in the park, which is +ridiculous! But she wants to give an idea in every +case exactly contrary to what really occurred, and the +other witnesses are agreed that the run was very +quick. And most of all, she tried to throw us off +in her description of the woman. The other three +are agreed that she was short and slight. Isabel +declares she was large and tall. The testimony of the +chauffeur and the maid agrees with Miss Hendricks’ +in every particular—except that the maid says the +woman was dressed in violet. In that one particular +she is probably mistaken, for Miss Hendricks’ +description is most minute. Certainly the woman was +not, as Isabel has again and again repeated in her +efforts to throw us off the track, and in the face of +all other evidence, clothed in a red dress!”</p> + +<p>“Very well summarized!” said Trant. “Analyzed +and summarized just as evidence has been ten +million times in a hundred thousand law courts since +the taking of evidence began. You could convict Mrs. +Eldredge on that evidence. Juries have convicted +thousands of other innocent people on evidence less +trustworthy. The numerous convictions of innocent +persons are as black a shame to-day as burnings and +torturings were in the Middle Ages; as tests by fire and +water, or as executions for witchcraft. Courts take +evidence to-day exactly as it was taken when Joseph +was a prisoner in Egypt. They hang and imprison +on grounds of ‘precedent’ and ‘common sense.’ +They accept the word of a witness where its truth +seems likely, and refuse it where it seems otherwise. +And, having determined the preponderance of evidence, +they sometimes say, as you have just said of +Lucy Carew, ‘though correct in everything else, in +this one particular fact our truthful witness is +mistaken.’ There is no room for mistakes, Mr. Eldredge, +in scientific psychology. Instead of analyzing +evidence by the haphazard methods of the courts, we can +analyze it scientifically, exactly, incontrovertibly—we +can select infallibly the true from the false. And that +is what I mean to do now,” he added, “if my apparatus, +for which you telephoned this morning, has come.”</p> + +<p>“The boxes are in the rear hall,” Eldredge replied. +“I have obtained over a hundred views of the locality, +and the cards you requested me to secure are here +too.”</p> + +<p>“Good! Then you will get together the witnesses? +The maid and the chauffeur I need to see only for a +moment. I will question them while you are sending +for Miss Hendricks.”</p> + +<p>Eldredge rang for the butler. “Bring in those +boxes which have just come for Mr. Trant,” he +commanded. “Send this note to Miss Hendricks”—he +wrote a few lines swiftly—“and tell Lucy and +Morris to come here at once.”</p> + +<p>He watched Trant curiously while he bent to his +boxes and began taking out his apparatus. Trant +first unpacked a varnished wooden box with a small +drop window in one end. Opposite the window was a +rack upon which cards or pictures could be placed. +They could then be seen only through the drop-window. +This window worked like the shutter of a camera, +and was so controlled that it could be set to +remain open for a fixed time, in seconds or parts of +a second, after which it closed automatically. As +Trant set this up and tested the shutter, the maid and +chauffeur came to the door of the library. Trant +admitted the girl and shut the door.</p> + +<p>“On Tuesday afternoon,” he said to her, kindly, +“was Mrs. Eldredge excited—very much excited—<em>before</em> +you came to the place where the machine broke +down, and before she saw the woman who took +Edward away?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” the girl answered. “She was more +excited than I’d seen her ever before, all the +afternoon, from the time we started.”</p> + +<p>The young psychologist then admitted the chauffeur, +and repeated his question.</p> + +<p>“She was most nervous, yes, sir; and excited, sir, +from the very first,” the chauffeur answered.</p> + +<p>“That is all,” said Trant, suddenly dismissing both, +then turning without expression to Eldredge. “If +Miss Hendricks is here I will examine her at once.”</p> + +<p>Eldredge went out, and returned with the little old +maid. Miss Hendricks had a high-bred, refined and +delicate face; and a sweet, though rather loquacious, +manner. She acknowledged the introduction to Trant +with old-fashioned formality.</p> + +<p>“Please sit down, Miss Hendricks,” said Trant, +motioning her to a chair facing the drop-window of +the exposure box. “This little window will open and +stand open an instant. I want you to look in and read +the word that you will see.” He dropped a card +quickly into the rack.</p> + +<p>“Do not be surprised,” he begged, as she looked +at the drop-window curiously, “if this examination +seems puerile to you. It is not really so; but only +unfamiliar in this country, yet. The Germans have +carried psychological work further than any one in +this nation, though the United States is now awakening +to its importance.” While speaking, he had lifted +the shutter and kept it raised a moment.</p> + +<p>“It must be very interesting,” Miss Hendricks +commented. “That word was ‘America,’ Mr. Trant.”</p> + +<p>Trant changed the card quickly. “And I’m glad +to say, Miss Hendricks,” he continued, while the +maiden lady watched for the next word, interested, +“that Americans are taking it up intelligently, not +servilely copying the Germans!”</p> + +<p>“That word was ‘imitation,’ Mr. Trant!” said +Miss Hendricks.</p> + +<p>“So now much is being done,” Trant continued, +again shifting the card, “in the fifty psychological +laboratories of this country through painstaking +experiments and researches.”</p> + +<p>“And that word was ‘investigate!’ ” said Miss +Hendricks, as the shutter lifted and dropped again.</p> + +<p>“That was quite satisfactory, Miss Hendricks,” +Trant acknowledged. “Now look at this please.” +Trant swiftly substituted the lithograph he had picked +up at Eldredge’s office. “What was that, Miss +Hendricks?”</p> + +<p>“It was a colored picture of a room with several +people in it.”</p> + +<p>“Did you see the boy in the picture, Miss +Hendricks?”</p> + +<p>“Why—yes, of course, Mr. Trant,” the woman +answered, after a little hesitation.</p> + +<p>“Good. Did you also see his book?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I saw that he was reading.”</p> + +<p>“Can you describe him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; he was about fifteen years old, in a dark suit +with a brown tie, black-haired, slender, and he sat in +a corner with a book on his knee.”</p> + +<p>“That was indeed most satisfactory! Thank you, +Miss Hendricks.” Trant congratulated and dismissed +her. “Now your wife, if you please, Mr. Eldredge.”</p> + +<p>Eldredge was curiously turning over the cards +which Trant had been exhibiting, and stared at the +young psychologist in bewilderment. But at Trant’s +words he went for his wife. She came down at once +with Mrs. Murray. Though she had been described to +him, it was the first time Trant had seen the +grandmother of the missing boy; and, as she entered, a +movement of admiration escaped him. She was taller +even than her son—who was the tallest man in the +room—and she had retained surprisingly much of +the grace and beauty of youth. She was a majestic +and commanding figure. After settling her charge in +a chair, she turned solicitously to Trant.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Eldredge tells me that you consider it necessary +to question poor Isabel again,” she said. “But, +Mr. Trant, you must be careful not to subject her to +any greater strain than is necessary. We all have +told her that if she would be entirely frank with us +we would make allowance for one whose girlhood has +been passed in poverty which obliged her to work for +a living.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Eldredge shrank nervously and Trant turned +to Murray. “Mr. Murray,” he said, “I want as little +distraction as possible during my examination of +Mrs. Eldredge, so if you will be good enough to bring +in to me from the study the automatograph—the +other apparatus which I took from the box—and +then wait outside till I have completed the test, it will +assist me greatly. Mrs. Murray, you can help me if +you remain.”</p> + +<p>Young Murray glanced at his mother and complied. +The automatograph, which Trant set upon another +table, was that designed by Prof. Jastrow, of the +University of Wisconsin, for the study of involuntary +movements. It consisted of a plate of glass in a light +frame mounted on adjustable brass legs, so that it could +be set exactly level. Three polished glass balls, +three-quarters of an inch in diameter, rested on this plate; +and on these again there rested a very light plate of +glass. To the upper plate was connected a simple +system of levers, which carried a needle point at their +end, so holding the needle as to travel over a sheet of +smoked paper.</p> + +<p>While Trant was setting up this instrument Mrs. +Eldredge’s nervousness had greatly increased. And +the few words which she spoke to her husband and +Mrs. Murray—who alone remained in the room—showed +that her mind was filled with thoughts of the +missing child. Trant, observing her, seemed to +change his plan suddenly and, instead of taking Mrs. +Eldredge to the new instrument, he seated her in the +chair in front of the drop-window. He explained +gently to the trembling woman that he wanted her to +read to him the words he exposed; and, as in the case +of Miss Hendricks, he tried to put her at ease by +speaking of the test itself.</p> + +<p>“These word tests, Mrs. Eldredge, will probably +seem rather pointless. For that matter all proceedings +with which one is not familiar must seem pointless; +even the proceedings of the national legislature +in Washington seem pointless to the spectators in the +gallery.” At this point the shutter lifted and exposed +a word. “What was the word, please, Mrs. +Eldredge?”</p> + +<p>“ ‘Sedate,’ ” the woman faltered.</p> + +<p>“But though the tests seem pointless, Mrs. Eldredge, +they are not really so. To the trained investigator +each test word is as full of meaning as each +mark upon the trail is to the backwoodsman on the +edge of civilization. Now what word was that?” he +questioned quickly, as the shutter raised and lowered +again.</p> + +<p>The woman turned her dilated eyes on Trant. +“That—that,” she hesitated—“I could make it out +only as ‘p-i-o-s-e-e-r,’ ” she spelled, uneasily. “I do +not know any such word.”</p> + +<p>“I shall not try you on words any longer, Mrs. +Eldredge,” Trant decided. He took his stop-watch in +his hand. “But I shall ask you to tell me how much +time elapses between two taps with my lead pencil on +the table. Now!”</p> + +<p>“Two minutes,” the woman stammered.</p> + +<p>Eldredge, who, observing what Trant was doing, +had taken his own watch from his pocket and timed +the brief interval, stared at Trant in astonishment. +But without giving the wife time to compose herself, +Trant went on quickly:</p> + +<p>“Look again at the little window, Mrs. Eldredge. +I shall expose to you a photograph; and if you are to +help me recover your husband’s son, I hope you can +recognize it. Who was it?” the psychologist +demanded as the shutter dropped.</p> + +<p>“That was a photograph of Edward!” the woman +cried. “But I never saw that picture before!” She +sat back, palpitating with uneasiness.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Murray quickly took up the picture which had +just been recognized as her grandson. “That is not +Edward, Mr. Trant,” she said.</p> + +<p>Trant laid a finger on his lips to silence her.</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Murray,” he said in quick appeal, “I wished, +as you probably noted, to use this instrument, the +automatograph, a moment ago: I will try it now. Will +you be good enough to test it for me? Merely rest +your fingers lightly—as lightly as you please—upon +this upper glass plate.” Mrs. Murray complied, +willingly. “Now please hold your hand there while I +lay out these about you.” He swiftly distributed the +photographic views of the surrounding blocks which +Eldredge had collected for him.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Murray watched him curiously as he placed +about a dozen in a circle upon the table; and, almost +as swiftly, swept them away and distributed others in +their place. Again, after glancing at her hand to see +that it was held in position, he set out a third lot, his +eyes fixed, as before, on the smoked paper under the +needle at the end of the levers. Suddenly he halted, +looked keenly at the third set of cards and, without a +word, left the room. In an instant he returned and +after a quick, sympathetic glance at Mrs. Eldredge, +turned to her husband.</p> + +<figure id="illus3"> + <img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt="A table with four people around + it. A younger woman sits and watches the others. A gentleman + stands slightly behind the others. An older woman stands with + one hand resting on a flat instrument, and gazes at the cards + which a younger man is placing about her on the table."> + <figcaption>After glancing at her hand to see that it was held in + position, he set out a third lot</figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>“I need not examine Mrs. Eldredge further,” he +said. “You had better take her to her room. But +before you go,” he grasped the woman’s cold hand +encouragingly, “I want to tell you, Mrs. Eldredge, +that I have every assurance of having the boy back +within a very few minutes, and I have proof of your +complete innocence. No, Mrs. Murray,” he forbade, +as the older woman started to follow the others. +“Remain here.” He closed the door after the other and +faced her. “I have just sent your son to get Edward +Eldredge from the place on Clark Street just south of +Webster Avenue where you have been keeping him +these three days.”</p> + +<p>“Are you a madman?” the powerful woman cried, +as she tried to push by him, staring at him stonily.</p> + +<p>“Really it is no use, madam.” Trant prevented +her. “Your son has been a most unworthy confederate +from the first; and when I had excluded him +from the room for a few moments and spoke to him +of the place which you pointed out to me so definitely, +it frightened him into acquiescence. I expect him +back with the boy within a few minutes: and +meanwhile—”</p> + +<p>“What is that?” Eldredge had stepped inside the +door.</p> + +<p>“I was just telling Mrs. Murray,” said Trant, “that +I had sent Raymond Murray after your son in the +place where she has had him concealed.”</p> + +<p>“What—what?” the father cried, incredulously, +staring into the woman’s cold face.</p> + +<p>“Oh, she has most enviable control of herself,” +Trant commented. “She will not believe that her son +has gone for Edward until he brings him back. And +I might say that Mrs. Murray probably did not make +away with the boy, but merely had him kept away, +after he had been taken.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Murray had reseated herself, after her short +struggle with Trant; and her face was absolutely +devoid of expression. “He is a madman!” she said, +calmly.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps it will hasten matters,” suggested Trant, +“if I explain to you the road by which I reached this +conclusion. As a number of startling cases of kidnaping +have occurred recently, the very prevalent fear +they have aroused has made it likely that kidnaping +will be the first theory in any case even remotely +resembling it. In view of this I could accept your +statement of kidnaping only if the circumstances made it +conclusive, which they did not. With the absence of +any demand for a real ransom they made it impossible +even for you to hold the idea of kidnaping, except +by presuming it a plot of Mrs. Eldredge’s.</p> + +<p>“But when I began considering whether this could +be her plan, as charged, I noted a singular +inconsistency in the attitude of Raymond Murray. He +showed obvious eagerness to disgrace Mrs. Eldredge, +but for some reason—not on the surface—was most +actively opposed to police interference and the +publicity which would most thoroughly carry out his +object. So I felt from the first that he, and perhaps his +mother—who was established over Mrs. Eldredge in +her own home, but, by your statement, was to leave if +Mrs. Eldredge came into charge of things—knew +something which they were concealing. This much I +saw before I read a word of the evidence.</p> + +<p>“The evidence of the maid and the chauffeur told +only two things—that a small woman rushed into the +park and ran off with your son; and that your wife +was in an extremely agitated condition. The maid +said that the woman was blond and dressed in violet; +and I knew, when I had read the evidence of other +witnesses, that that was undoubtedly the truth.”</p> + +<p>Eldredge, pacing the rug, stopped short and opened +his lips; but checked himself.</p> + +<p>“Without Miss Hendricks’ testimony there was +positively nothing against your wife in the evidence +of the chauffeur and the maid. I then took up Miss +Hendricks’ evidence and had not read two lines before +I saw that—as an accusation against your wife, Mr. +Eldredge—it was worthless. Miss Hendricks is one +of those most dangerous persons, absolutely truthful, +and—absolutely unable to tell the truth! She +showed a common, but hopeless, state of suggestibility. +Her first sentence, in which she said she did not often +look out of the window for fear people would think +she was watching them, showed her habit of confusing +what she saw with ideas that existed only in her +own mind. Her testimony was a mass of unwarranted +inferences. She saw a woman coming from +the direction of the car line, so to Miss Hendricks ‘it +was evident that she had just descended from a car.’ +The woman was hurrying, so ‘she was late for an +appointment.’ ‘As soon as she caught sight of the +woman’ Mrs. Eldredge lifted Edward to the ground. +And so on through a dozen things which showed the +highest susceptibility to suggestion. You told me that +before telling her story to you she had told it to Mrs. +Murray. Miss Hendricks had rushed to her at once; +the bias and suggestions which made her testimony +apparently so damning against your wife could only +have come from Mrs. Murray.”</p> + +<p>Eldredge’s glance shot to his mother-in-law. But +Trant ran on rapidly. “I took up your wife’s evidence; +and though apparently entirely at variance with +the others, I saw at once that it really corroborated +the testimony of the nurse and the chauffeur.”</p> + +<p>“Her evidence confirmed?” Eldredge demanded, +brusquely.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” Trant replied; “to the psychologist, who +understood Mrs. Eldredge’s mental condition, her +evidence was the same as theirs. I had already seen +for myself, by the aid of what you had told me, Mrs. +Eldredge’s position in this household, after leaving +your office to become your wife. On entering your +house, she was brought face to face with a woman +already in control here—a strong and dominant +woman, who had immense influence over you. +Everything told of a struggle between these women—slights, +obstructions, merciless criticisms, of which +your wife could not complain, which had brought her +close to nervous prostration. You remember that +immediately after reading her statement I asked you +what particular thing had occurred just before she +went motoring to throw her into that noticeably +excitable condition described by the maid and the +chauffeur. You said nothing had happened. But I +was certain even then that there had been something—I +know now that Mrs. Murray had put a climax +to her persecution of your wife by charging that Mrs. +Eldredge was taking the boy out to get rid of +him—and my knowledge of psychology told me that, +allowing for Mrs. Eldredge’s hysterical condition, +she had stated in her evidence the same things that +the maid and the chauffeur had stated. It is a fact +that in her condition of hyperæsthesia—a condition +readily brought on not only in weak women, but +sometimes in strong men, by excitement and excessive +nervous strain—her senses would be highly +overstimulated. Barely hearing the sound of the woman’s +voice, she would honestly describe her as speaking in +a loud tone.</p> + +<p>“All time intervals would also be greatly prolonged. +It truly seemed to her that the child took a long time +to cross the grass and that the woman talked with him +several minutes, instead of seconds. The sensation +of a similarly long time elapsing after the woman +took the boy’s hand gave her the impression of a long +struggle. She would honestly believe that it took the +automobile fifteen minutes to make the circuit of the +park. When you asked your wife why, if so much +time elapsed, she tried to do nothing, she was unable to +answer; for no time was wasted at all.</p> + +<p>“But most vital of all, I recognized her description +of the woman as wearing a red dress as most +conclusive confirmation of the maid’s testimony and a +final proof, not that Mrs. Eldredge was trying to mislead +you, but that she was telling the truth as well as +she could. For it is a common psychological fact that +in a hysterical condition red is the color most commonly +seen subjectively; the sensation of red not only +persists in hysteria, when other color sensations +disappear, but it is common to have it take the place of +another color, especially violet. It was discovered +and recorded over thirty years ago that, in excessive +excitability known psychologically as hyperæsthesia, +all colors are lifted in the spectrum scale and, to the +overexcited retina, the shorter waves of violet may +give the sensation of the longer ones producing red. +So what to you seemed an intentional contradiction +was to me the most positive and complete assurance of +your wife’s honesty.</p> + +<p>“And finally, to be consistent with this condition, +I knew that if her state was due to expectation of +harm to herself or the child from any unusually large, +dark woman, she would see the woman in her excitement, +as large and dark. For it is one of the commonest +facts known to the psychologist that our senses +in excitement can be so influenced by our expectation +of any event that we actually see things, not as they +are, but as we expect them to be. So when you told +me that Mrs. Murray answered the description given +by Mrs. Eldredge, all threads of the skein had led to +Mrs. Murray.</p> + +<p>“Now, as it was clear to me that Mrs. Murray +herself had used Miss Hendricks’ easy suggestibility +to prejudice her evidence against Mrs. Eldredge, Mrs. +Murray could not herself have believed that Mrs. +Eldredge had taken the boy away. So, since the +Murrays were making no search, they must have soon +found out where the boy was and were satisfied that +he was safe and that they could produce him, after +they had finished ruining Mrs. Eldredge.</p> + +<p>“Therefore I was in a position to appreciate Mrs. +Murray’s ridiculous letter when it came, with its +painfully misspelled demand for an absurdly small ransom +that would not be refused for a moment, as the object +of the letter was only to make the final move in the +case against Mrs. Eldredge and enable them to return +the boy. So far, it is clear?” Trant checked his +rapid explanation.</p> + +<p>Still Eldredge stared at the set, defiant features of +his mother-in-law; and made no reply.</p> + +<p>“I appreciated thoroughly that I must prove all +this,” Trant then shot on rapidly. “You, Mr. +Eldredge, discovered that Miss Hendricks’ description of +the woman tallied precisely with the published description +of the St. Louis kidnaper, without appreciating +that the description was in her mind. With her high +suggestibility she substituted it for the woman she +actually saw as unconsciously—and as honestly—as +she substituted Mrs. Murray’s suggestions for her +own observations.</p> + +<p>“But perhaps you can appreciate it now. You saw +how I showed her the word ‘Armenia’ and spoke of +the United States to lead her mind to substitute +‘America’ to prove how easily her mind substituted +acts, motions and everything at Mrs. Murray’s +suggestion. I had only to speak of ‘servilely copying’ to +have her change ‘invitation’ into ‘imitation.’ A mere +mention of researches made her think she saw +‘investigate,’ when the word was ‘inviolate.’ Finally, +after showing her a picture in which there were two +women and a man, but no boy, she stated, at my slight +suggestion, that she saw a boy, and even described him +for me and told me what he was doing. I had proved +beyond cavil the utter worthlessness of evidence given +by this woman, and dismissed her.”</p> + +<p>“I followed that!” Eldredge granted.</p> + +<p>Trant continued: “So I tested your wife to show +that she had not suggestibility, like Miss Hendricks—that +is, she could not be made to say that she saw +‘senate’ instead of ‘sedate’ by a mere mention of the +national legislature at the time the word was shown; +nor would she make over ‘pioseer’ into ‘pioneer,’ +under the suggestion of backwoodsman. But by getting +her into an excitable condition with her mind +emotionally set to expect a picture of the missing boy, +her excited mind at the moment of perception altered +the picture of the totally different six-year-old boy I +showed her into the picture of Edward, as readily as +her highly excited senses—fearing for herself and +for the boy through Mrs. Murray—altered the +woman she saw taking Edward into an emotional +semblance of Mrs. Murray.</p> + +<p>“I had understood it as essential to clear your wife +as to find the boy—whom I appreciated could be in +no danger. So I made the next test with Mrs. +Murray. This, I admit, depended largely upon chance. +I knew, of course, that she must know where the boy +was and that probably her son did too. The place +was also probably in the vicinity. The automatograph +is a device to register the slightest and most +involuntary motions. It is a basic psychological fact +that there is an inevitable muscular impulse toward +any object which arouses emotion. If one spreads a +score of playing cards about a table and the subject +has a special one in mind, his hand on the automatograph +will quickly show a faint impulse toward the +card, although the subject is entirely unaware of it. +So I knew that if the place where the boy was kept +was shown in any of the pictures, I would get a +reaction from Mrs. Murray; which I did—with the +result, Mr. Eldredge,” Trant went to the window and +watched the street, expectantly, “that Mr. Raymond +Murray is now bringing your son around the corner +and—”</p> + +<p>But the father had burst from the room and toward +the door. Trant heard a cry of joy and the stumble +of an almost hysterical woman as Mrs. Eldredge +rushed down the stairs after her husband. He turned +as Mrs. Murray, taking advantage of the excitement, +endeavored to push past him.</p> + +<p>“You are leaving the house?” he asked. “But +tell me first,” he demanded, “how did the boy come +to be taken out of the park? Had the boys whom +the chauffeur said stopped around his car anything to +do with it?”</p> + +<p>“They were a class which a kindergarten teacher—a +new teacher—had taken to see the animals,” the +woman answered, coldly.</p> + +<p>“Ah! So one of them was left behind—the one +whom they saw running and mistook for Edward—and +the teacher, running back, took Edward by +mistake. But she must have discovered her mistake when +she rejoined the others.”</p> + +<p>“Only after she got on the car. There one of my +former servants recognized him and took him to her +home.”</p> + +<p>“And when the servant came to tell you, and you +understood how Miss Hendricks’ suggestibility had +played into your hands, the temptation was too much +for you, and you made this last desperate attempt to +discredit Mrs. Eldredge. I see!” He stood back and +let her by.</p> + +<p>Raymond Murray, after bringing back the boy, had +disappeared. In the hall Eldredge and his wife bent +over the boy, the woman completely hysterical in the +joy of the recovery, laughing and crying alternately. +She caught the boy to her frantically as she stared +wildly at a woman ascending the steps.</p> + +<p>“The woman in red—the woman in red!” she +cried suddenly.</p> + +<p>Trant stepped to her side quickly. “But she +doesn’t look big and dark to you now, does she?” he +asked. “And see, now,” he said, trying to calm her, +“the dress is violet again. Yes, Mr. Eldredge, this, +I believe, is the woman in violet—the small blond +woman who took your boy from the park by mistake—as +I will explain to you. She is coming, undoubtedly, +in response to an advertisement that I put in +<i>The Journal</i> this noon. But we do not require her +help now, for Mrs. Murray has told me all.”</p> + +<p>The maid, Lucy Carew, ran suddenly up the hall.</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Murray and Mr. Murray are leaving the +house, Mr. Eldredge!” she cried, bewilderedly.</p> + +<p>“Are they?” the master of the house returned. +He put his arm about its mistress and together they +took the boy to his room.</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter" id="ch04"> + +<h2>IV. <br> The Private Bank Puzzle</h2> + +<p>“Planning to rob us?”</p> + +<p>“I am sure of it!”</p> + +<p>“But I don’t understand, Gordon! Who? How? +What are they planning to rob?” the young +acting-president of the bank demanded, sharply.</p> + +<p>“The safe, Mr. Howell—the safe!” the old cashier +repeated. “Some one inside the bank is planning to +rob it!”</p> + +<p>“How do you know?”</p> + +<p>“I feel it; I know it. I am as certain of it as though +I had overheard the plot being made! But I cannot tell +you how I know. Put an extra man on guard here +to-night,” the old man appealed, anxiously, “for I am +certain that some one in this office means to enter the +safe!”</p> + +<p>The acting-president swung his chair away from +the anxious little man before him, and glanced quickly +through the glass door of his private office at the +dozen clerks and tellers busy in the big room who +sufficed to carry on the affairs of the little bank.</p> + +<p>It was just before noon on the last Wednesday in +November, in the old-established private banking house +of Henry Howell & Son, on La Salle Street; and it +was the beginning of the sixth week that young +Howell had been running the bank by himself. For the +first two or three weeks, since his father’s rheumatism +suddenly sent him to Carlsbad, the business of +the bank had seemed to go on as smoothly as usual. +But for the last month, as young Howell himself +could not deny, there had been a difference.</p> + +<p>“A premonition, Gordon?” Howell’s brown eyes +scrutinized the cashier curiously. “I did not know +your nerve had been so shaken!”</p> + +<p>“Call it premonition if you wish,” the old cashier +answered, almost wildly. “But I have warned you! +If anything happens now you cannot hold me to blame +for it. I know the safe is going to be entered! Why +else should they search my waste-basket? Why was +my coat taken? Who took my pocketbook? Who +just to-day tried to break into my old typewriter +desk?”</p> + +<p>“Gordon! Gordon!” The young man jumped to +his feet with an expression of relief. “You need a +vacation! I know better than anybody how much +has happened in the last two months to shake and disturb +you; but if you attach any meaning to those +insignificant incidents you must be going crazy!”</p> + +<p>The cashier tore himself from the other’s grasp and +left the office. Young Howell stood looking after +him in perplexity an instant, then glanced at his watch +and, taking up his overcoat, hastened out. He had a +firm, well-built figure, a trifle stout; his expression, +step, and all his bearing was usually quick, decisive, +cheerful. But now as he passed into the street his +step slowed and his head bent before the puzzle which +his old cashier had just presented to him.</p> + +<p>After walking a block his pace quickened, however, +and he turned abruptly into a great office building +towering sixteen stories from the street. Halting for +an instant before the building directory, he took the +express elevator to the twelfth floor and, at the end +of the hall, halted again before an office door upon +which was stenciled in clear letters:</p> + +<blockquote class="stencil"> + + <p>“<span class="sc">Luther Trant, Practical Psychologist</span>.”</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>At the call to come in, he opened the door and +found himself facing a red-haired, broad-shouldered +young man with blue-gray eyes, who had looked up +from a delicate instrument which he was adjusting +upon his desk. The young banker noted, half +unconsciously, the apparatus of various kinds—dials, +measuring machines and clocks, electrical batteries +with strange meters wired to them, and the dozen +delicate machines that stood on two sides of the room, +for his conscious interest was centered in the quiet but +alert young man that rose to meet him.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Luther Trant?” he questioned.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“I am Harry Howell, the ‘son’ of Howell & +Son,” the banker introduced himself. “I heard of you, +Mr. Trant, in connection with the Bronson murder; +but more recently Walter Eldredge told me something +of the remarkable way in which you apply scientific +psychology, which has so far been recognized only in +the universities, to practical problems. He made no +secret to me that you saved him from wrecking the +whole happiness of his home. I have come to ask you +to do, perhaps, as much for me.”</p> + +<p>The psychologist nodded.</p> + +<p>“I do not mean, Mr. Trant,” said the banker, dropping +into the chair toward which Trant directed him, +“that our home is in danger, as Eldredge’s was. But +our cashier—” The banker broke off. “Two +months ago, Mr. Trant, our bank suffered its first +default, under circumstances which affected the +cashier very strongly. A few weeks later father had +to go to Europe for his health, leaving me with old +Gordon, the cashier, in charge of things. Almost +immediately a series of disorders commenced, little +annoyances and persecutions against the cashier. They +have continued almost daily. They are so senseless, +contemptible, and trivial that I have disregarded them, +but they have shaken Gordon’s nerve. Twenty minutes +ago he came to me, trembling with anxiety, to +tell me that they mean that one of the men in the office +is trying to rob the safe. I feel confident that it +is only Gordon’s nervousness; but in the absence of my +father I feel that I cannot let the matter go longer +unexplained.”</p> + +<p>“What are these apparently trivial things which +have been going on for the last month, Mr. Howell?” +Trant asked.</p> + +<p>“They are so insignificant that I am almost ashamed +to tell you. The papers in Gordon’s waste-basket have +been disturbed. Some one takes his pads and blotters. +His coat, which hangs on a hook in his office, +disappeared and was brought back again. An old pocketbook +that he keeps in his desk, which never contains +anything of importance, has been taken away and +brought back in the same manner. Everything disturbed +has been completely valueless, the sole object +being apparently to plague the man. But it has +shaken Gordon amazingly, incomprehensibly. And +this morning, when he found some one had been trying +to break into an old typewriter desk in his +office—though it was entirely empty, even the typewriter +having been taken out of it two days ago—he went +absolutely to pieces, and made the statement about robbing +the safe which I have just repeated to you.”</p> + +<p>“That is very strange,” said Trant, thoughtfully. +“So these apparently senseless tricks terrorize your +cashier! He was not keeping anything in the +typewriter desk, was he?”</p> + +<p>“He told me not,” Howell answered. “Gordon +might conceal something from me; but he would not +lie.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me,” Trant demanded, suddenly, “what was +the defalcation in the bank, which, as you just +mentioned, so greatly affected your cashier just before +your father left for Europe?”</p> + +<p>“Ten thousand dollars was taken; in plain words +stolen outright by young Robert Gordon, the +cashier’s—William Gordon’s—son.”</p> + +<p>“The cashier’s son!” Trant replied with interest.</p> + +<p>“His only son,” Howell confirmed. “A boy about +twenty. Gordon has a daughter older. The boy +seemed a clean, straightforward fellow like his father, +who has been with us forty years, twenty years our +cashier; but something was different in him underneath, +for the first time he had the chance he stole +from the bank.”</p> + +<p>“And the particulars?” Trant requested quickly.</p> + +<p>“There are no especial particulars; it was a perfectly +clear case against Robert,” the banker replied, +reluctantly. “Our bank has a South Side branch on +Cottage Grove Avenue, near Fifty-first Street, for the +use of storekeepers and merchants in the neighborhood. +On the 29th of September they telephoned us +that there was a sudden demand for currency resembling +a run on the bank. Our regular messenger, with +the officer who accompanies him, was out; so Gordon +called his son to carry the money alone. It never +occurred to either father or myself, or, of course, to +Gordon, not to trust to the boy. Gordon himself got +the money from the safe—twenty-four thousand dollars, +fourteen thousand in small bills and ten thousand +in two small packets of ten five-hundred-dollar +bills apiece. He himself counted it into the bag, +locked it, and sealed it in. We all told the boy that we +were sending him on an emergency call and to rush +above all things. Now, it takes about thirty-five +minutes to reach our branch on the car; but in spite of +being told to hurry, young Gordon was over an hour +getting there; and when the officers of the branch +opened his bag they found that both packets of +five-hundred-dollar bills—ten thousand dollars—had +been taken out—stolen! He had fixed up the lock, +the seal of the bag, somehow, after taking the money.”</p> + +<p>“What explanation did the boy make?” Trant +pressed, quickly.</p> + +<p>“None. He evidently depended entirely upon the +way he fixed up the lock and seal.”</p> + +<p>“The delay?”</p> + +<p>“The cars, he said.”</p> + +<p>“You said a moment ago that it was impossible that +your cashier would lie to you. Is it absolutely out of +the question that he held back the missing bills?”</p> + +<p>“And ruined his own son, Mr. Trant? Impossible! +But you do not have to take my opinion for that. The +older Gordon returned the money—all of it—though +he had to mortgage his home, which was all he had, +to make up the amount. Out of regard for the father, +who was heartbroken, we did not prosecute the boy. +It was kept secret, even from the employees of the +bank, why he was dismissed, and only the officers yet +know that the money was stolen. But you can see +how deeply all this must have affected Gordon, and +it may be enough to account fully for his nervousness +under the petty annoyances which have been going on +ever since.”</p> + +<p>“Annoyances,” cried Trant, “which began almost +immediately after this first defalcation in forty years! +That may, or may not, be coincidence. But, if it is +convenient, I would like to go with you to the bank, +Mr. Howell, at once!” The young psychologist +leaped to his feet; the banker rose more slowly.</p> + +<p>It was not quite one o’clock when the two young men +entered the old building where Howell & Son had had +their offices for thirty-six years. Trant hurried on +directly up to the big banking room on the second +floor. Inside the offices the psychologist’s quick eyes, +before they sought individuals, seemed to take stock +of the furnishings and equipment of the place. The +arrangement of all was staid, solid, old-fashioned. +Many of the desks and chairs, and most of the other +equipment, seemed to date back as far as the founding +of the bank by the senior Howell three years after +the great Chicago fire. The clerks’ and tellers’ cages +were of the heavy, overelaborate brass scroll work +of the generation before; the counters of thick, almost +ponderous, mahogany, now deeply scored, but not +discolored. And the massive safe, set into a rear wall, +especially attracted Trant’s attention. He paused +before its open door and curiously inspected the +complicated mechanism of revolving dials, lettered on their +rims, which required to be set to a certain combination +of letters in order to open it.</p> + +<p>“This is still good enough under ordinary conditions, +I dare say,” he commented, as he turned the +barrels experimentally; “but it is rather old, is it +not?”</p> + +<p>“It is as old as the bank and the building,” Howell +answered. “It is one of the Rittenhouse six-letter +combination locks; and was built in, as you see, in +’74 when they put up this building for us. Just about +that time, I believe, the Sargent time lock was +invented; but this was still new, and besides, father has +always been very conservative. He lets things go on +until a real need arises to change them; and in thirty-six +years, as I told you at your office, nothing has +happened to worry him particularly about this safe.”</p> + +<p>“I see. The combination, I suppose, is a word?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; a word of six letters, changed every +Monday.”</p> + +<p>“And given to—”</p> + +<p>“Only to the cashier.”</p> + +<p>“Gordon, that is,” Trant acknowledged, as he +turned away and appeared to take his first interest in +any of the employees of the bank, “the man alone in +the cashier’s room over there?” The psychologist +pointed through the open door of the room at his right +to the thin, strained figure bent far over his desk. +He was the only one of all the men about the bank who +seemed not to have noticed the stranger whom the +acting-president had brought with him to inspect the +safe.</p> + +<p>“Yes; that is Gordon!” the president answered, +caught forward quickly by something in the manner, +or the posture, of the cashier. “But what is he +doing? What is the matter with him now?” He +hurried toward the old man through the open door.</p> + +<p>Trant followed him, and they could see over the +cashier’s shoulder, before he was conscious of their +presence, that he was arranging and fitting together +small scraps of paper. Then he jerked himself up in +his chair, trembling, arose, and faced them with bloodless +lips and cheeks, one tremulous hand pressed +guiltily upon the papers, hiding them.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter? What are you doing, +Gordon?” Howell said in surprise.</p> + +<p>Trant reached forward swiftly, seized the cashier’s +thin wrist and lifted his hand forcibly from the desk. +The scraps were five in number and upon them, as +Gordon had arranged them, were printed in pencil +merely meaningless equations. The first, which was +written on two of the scraps, read:</p> + +<blockquote class="notes"> + + <p>43$=80.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>The second, torn into three pieces, was even more +enigmatical, reading:</p> + +<blockquote class="notes"> + + <p>35=8?$</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>But the pieces appeared to be properly put together; +and Trant noted that, besides the two and three pieces +fitting, all the scraps evidently belonged together, and +had originally formed a part of a large sheet of paper +which had been torn and thrown away.</p> + +<p>“They are nothing—nothing, Mr. Howell!” The +old man tried to wrench his hand away, staring in +terror at the banker. “They are only scraps of paper +which I found. Oh, Mr. Howell, I warned you this +morning that the bank is in danger. I know that now +better than ever! But these,” he grew still whiter, +“are nothing!”</p> + +<p>Trant had to catch the cashier’s hand again, as he +tried to snatch up the scraps. “Who is this man, +Mr. Howell?” Gordon turned indignantly to the +young banker.</p> + +<p>“My name is Trant. Mr. Howell came to me +this morning to advise him as to the things which have +been terrifying you here in this office. And, Mr. Gordon,” +said Trant, sternly, “it is perfectly useless for +you to tell us that these bits of paper have no +meaning, or that their meaning is unknown to you. But +since you will not explain the mystery to us, I must go +about the matter in some other way.”</p> + +<p>“You do not imagine, Mr. Trant,” the cashier fell +back into his chair as though the psychologist had +struck him, “that I have any connection with the +plot against the bank of which I warned Mr. +Howell!”</p> + +<p>“I am quite certain,” Trant answered, firmly, “that +if a plot exists, you have some connection with +it. Whether your connection is innocent or guilty I +can determine at once by a short test, if you will +submit to it.”</p> + +<p>Gordon’s eyes met those of the acting-president in +startled terror, but he gathered himself together and +arose.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Howell knows,” he said, hollowly, “how mad +an accusation you are making. But I will submit to +your test, of course.”</p> + +<p>Trant took up a blank sheet of paper from the desk +and drew on it two rows of geometric figures in rapid +succession, like these:</p> + +<figure> + <img src="images/figure4-1.png" alt="A set of six arbitrary shapes, + each consisting of three straight and diagonal lines."> +</figure> + +<p>He handed the sheet to the cashier, who stared at +it in wondering astonishment.</p> + +<p>“Look at these carefully, Mr. Gordon,” Trant took +out his watch, “and study them till I tell you to stop. +Stop now!” he commanded, “and draw upon the pad +on your desk as many of the figures as you can.”</p> + +<p>The cashier and the acting-president stared into +Trant’s face with increasing amazement; then the +cashier asked to see Trant’s sheets again and drew +from memory, after a few seconds, two figures, thus:</p> + +<figure> + <img src="images/figure4-2.png" alt="Two shapes. Although similar + in style, neither one matches any of the six shapes from the + original set."> +</figure> + +<p>“Thank you,” said Trant, tearing the sheet from +the pad without giving either time to question him. +He closed the office door carefully and returned with +his watch in his hand.</p> + +<p>“You can hear this tick?” He held it about +eighteen inches from Gordon’s ear.</p> + +<p>“Of course,” the cashier answered.</p> + +<p>“Then move your finger, please, as long as you +hear it.”</p> + +<p>The cashier began moving his finger. Trant put +the watch on the desk and stepped away. For a moment +the finger stopped; but when Trant spoke again +the cashier nodded and moved his finger at the ticks. +Almost immediately it stopped again, however; and +Trant returned and took up his watch.</p> + +<p>“I want to ask you one thing more,” he said to the +weary old man. “I want you to take a pencil and +write upon this pad a series of numbers from one up +as fast as you care to, no matter how much more +rapidly I count. You are ready? Then one, two, +three—” Trant counted rapidly in a clear voice up to +thirty.</p> + +<p>“1-2-3-4-10-11-12-19-20-27-28—” the cashier +wrote, and handed the pad to Trant.</p> + +<p>“Thank you. This will be all I need, except these +pieces,” said Trant, as he swept up the scraps which +the cashier had been piecing together.</p> + +<p>Gordon started, but said nothing. His gray, anxious +eyes followed them, as the banker preceded Trant +from the cashier’s room into his private office.</p> + +<p>“What is the meaning of all this, Mr. Trant?” +Howell closed the door and swung round, excitedly. +“If Gordon is connected with a plot against the bank, +and that in itself is unbelievable, why did he warn me +the bank was in danger?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Gordon’s connection with what is going on is +perfectly innocent,” Trant answered. “I have just +made certain of that!” He had seated himself before +Howell’s desk and was spreading out the scraps +of paper which he had taken from Gordon. “But tell +me. Was not Gordon once a stenographer, or did he +not use a typewriter at least?”</p> + +<p>“Well, yes,” Howell replied, impatiently. “Gordon +was private secretary to my father twenty years +ago; and, of course, used a typewriter. It was his +old machine, which he always kept and still used +occasionally, that was in his desk which, as I told you, +was broken into this morning.”</p> + +<p>“But the desk was empty—even the machine had +been taken from it!”</p> + +<p>“Gordon took it home only a day or so ago. His +daughter is taking up typewriting and wanted it to +practice upon.”</p> + +<p>“In spite of the fact that it must be entirely out of +date?” Trant pressed. “Probably it was the last of +that pattern in this office?”</p> + +<p>“Of course,” Howell rejoined, still more +impatiently. “The others were changed long ago. But +what in the world has all this to do with the question +whether some one is planning to rob us?”</p> + +<p>“It has everything to do, Mr. Howell!” Trant +leaped to his feet, his eyes flashing with sudden +comprehension. “For what you have just told me makes +it certain that, as Gordon warned you, one of your +clerks is planning to enter your safe at the first +opportunity! Gordon knows as little as you or I, at +this moment, which of your men it is; but he is as +sure of the fact itself as I am, and he has every reason +to know that there is no time to lose in detecting the +plotter.”</p> + +<p>“What is that? What is that? Gordon is right?” +The banker stared at Trant in confusion, then asserted, +skeptically: “You cannot tell that from those +papers, Mr. Trant!”</p> + +<p>“I feel very certain of it indeed, and—just from +these papers. And more than that, Mr. Howell, +though I shall ask to postpone explaining this until +later, I may say from this second paper here,” Trant +held up the series of numbers which the cashier had +written, “that this indicates to me that it is entirely +possible, if not actually probable, that Gordon’s son +did not steal the money for the loss of which he was +disgraced!”</p> + +<p>The banker strode up and down the room, excitedly. +“Robert Gordon not guilty! I understood, Trant, +that your methods were surprising. They are more +than that; they are incomprehensible. I cannot +imagine how you reach these conclusions. But,” he +looked into the psychologist’s eyes, “I see no alternative +but to put the matter completely in your hands, +and for the present to do whatever you say.”</p> + +<p>“There is nothing more to be done here now,” said +Trant, gathering up the papers, “except to give me +Gordon’s home address.”</p> + +<p>“Five hundred and thirty-seven Leavenworth +Street, on the South Side.”</p> + +<p>“I will come back to-morrow after banking hours. +Meanwhile, as Gordon warned you, put an extra guard +over the bank to-night. I hope to be able to tell you +all that underlies this case when I have been to +Gordon’s home this evening, and seen his son, +and”—Trant turned away—“that old typewriting machine +of his.”</p> + +<p>He went out, the banker staring after him, +perplexed.</p> + +<hr> + +<p>Trant knew already that forty years of service for +the little bank of Howell & Son had left Gordon still +a poor man; and he was not surprised when, at seven +o’clock that night, he turned into Leavenworth Street, +to find Number 537 a typical “small, comfortable +home,” put up twenty years before in what had then +been a new real estate subdivision and probably +purchased by Gordon upon the instalment plan. Gordon’s +daughter, who opened the door, was a black-haired, +gray-eyed girl of slender figure. She had the +air of the housekeeper, careful and economical in the +administration of her father’s moderate and +unincreasing means. But a look of more direct responsibility +upon her face made Trant recollect, as he gave +his name and stepped inside, that since her brother’s +default and her father’s sacrifice to make it up, this +girl herself was going out to help regain the +ownership of the little home.</p> + +<p>“Father is upstairs lying down,” she explained, +solicitously, as she showed Trant into the living room. +“But I can call him,” she offered, reluctantly, “if it +is on business of the bank.”</p> + +<p>“It is on business of the bank,” Trant replied. +“But there is no need to disturb your father. It was +your brother I came to see.”</p> + +<p>The girl’s face went crimson. “My brother is no +longer connected with the bank,” she managed to +answer, miserably. “I do not think he would be +willing—I think I could not prevail upon him to talk to +anyone sent by the bank.”</p> + +<p>“That is unfortunate,” said Trant, frankly, “for +in that case my journey out here goes half for +nothing. I was very anxious to see him. By the way, +Miss Gordon, what luck are you having with your +typewriting?”</p> + +<p>The girl drew back surprised.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Howell told me about you,” Trant explained, +“when he mentioned that your father had taken his +old typewriter home for you to practice upon.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes; dear father!” exclaimed the girl. “He +brought it home with him one night this week. But +it is quite out of date—quite useless. Besides, I had +hired a modern one last week.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Howell interested me in that old machine. +You have no objection to my seeing it?”</p> + +<p>“Of course not.” The girl looked at the young +psychologist with growing astonishment. “It is right +here.” She led the way through the hall, and opened +the door to a rear room. Through the doorway Trant +could see in the little room two typewriting machines, +one new and shiny, the other, under a cover, old and +battered.</p> + +<p>“Say! what do you want?” A challenging voice +brought Trant around swiftly to face a scowling boy +clattering down stairs.</p> + +<p>“He wants to look at the typewriter, Robert,” the +girl explained.</p> + +<p>Trant looked the boy over quietly. He was a +clean-looking chap, quietly dressed and resembling his +father, but was of more powerful physique. His face +was marred by sullen brooding, and in his eyes there +was a settled flame of defiance. The psychologist +turned away, as though determined to finish first his +inspection of the typewriter, and entered the room. +The boy and the girl followed.</p> + +<p>“Here, you!” said Robert Gordon, harshly, as +Trant laid his hand on the cover of the old machine, +“that’s not the typewriter you want to look at. This +is the one.” And he pointed to the newer of the +two.</p> + +<p>“It’s the old one I want to see,” answered Trant.</p> + +<p>The boy paled suddenly, leaped forward and seized +Trant by the wrist. “Say! Who are you, anyway? +What do you want to see that machine for?” he +demanded, hotly. “You shall not see it, if I can help +it!”</p> + +<figure id="illus4"> + <img src="images/illus4.jpg" alt="Two young men are in a small + room, standing before two typewriters, one covered. The young + man on the right angrily grabs the other’s arm to pull him away. + Behind them a young woman watches nervously. An older man is at + the door, leaning on the door frame and looking upset."> + <figcaption>“What do you want to see that machine for? You shall not + see it, if I can help it!”</figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>“What!” Trant faced him in obvious astonishment. +“You! You in that! That alters matters!”</p> + +<p>William Gordon had appeared suddenly in the doorway, +his face as white as his son’s. Robert’s hand +fell from Trant’s wrist. The dazed old man stood +watching Trant, who slowly uncovered and studied the +keyboard of the old writing machine.</p> + +<p>“What does this mean, Mr. Trant?” Gordon +faltered, holding to the door frame for support.</p> + +<p>“It means, Mr. Gordon”—Trant straightened, his +eyes flashing in full comprehension and +triumph—“that you must keep your son in to-night, at +whatever cost, Mr. Gordon! And bring him with you +to-morrow morning when you come to the bank. Do not +misunderstand me.” He caught the old man as he +tottered. “We are in time to prevent the robbery you +feared at the bank. And I hope—I still hope—to +be able to prove that your son had nothing to do with +the loss of the money for which he was dismissed.” +With that he left the house.</p> + +<hr> + +<p>Half an hour before the bank of Howell & Son +opened the next morning, Trant and the acting-president +stepped from the president’s private office into the +main banking room.</p> + +<p>“You have not asked me,” said Howell, “whether +there was any attempt on the bank last night. I had +a special man on watch, as you advised, but no +attempt was made.”</p> + +<p>“After seeing young Gordon last night,” Trant +answered, “I expected none.”</p> + +<p>The banker looked perplexed; then he glanced +quickly about and saw his dozen clerks and tellers in +their places, dispatching preliminary business and +preparing their accounts. The cashier alone had not +yet arrived. The acting-president called them all to +places at the desks.</p> + +<p>“This gentleman,” he explained, “is Mr. Trant, a +psychologist. He has just asked me, and I am going +to ask you, to cooperate with him in carrying out a +very interesting psychological test which he wants to +make on you as men working in the bank.”</p> + +<p>“As you all probably have seen in newspapers and +magazine articles,” Trant himself took up the +explanation, as the banker hesitated, “psychologists, and +many other investigators, are much interested just now +in following the influences which employments, or +business of various kinds, have upon mental characteristics. +I want to test this morning the normal ‘first +things’ which you think of as a class constantly +associated with money and banking operations during most +of your conscious hours. To establish your way of +thinking as a class, I have asked Mr. Howell’s +permission to read you a short list of words; and I ask +you to write down, on hearing each of these words, +the first thing that connects itself with that word in +your minds. Each of you please take a piece of paper, +sign it, and number it along one edge to correspond +with the numbers of the words on my list.”</p> + +<p>There was a rustling of paper as the men, nodding, +prepared for the test. Trant took his list from his +pocket.</p> + +<p>“I am interested chiefly, of course,” he continued, +“in following psychologically the influence of your +constant association with money. For you work +surrounded by money. Every click of the <i>Remington +typewriters</i> about you refers to money, and their <i>shift +keys</i> are pushed most often to make the <i>dollar mark</i>. +The bundles of money around you are not marked in +<i>secret writing or symbols</i>, but plainly with the amount, +<i>five hundred dollars</i> or <i>ten thousand dollars</i> written on +the wrapper. Behind the <i>combination</i> of the <i>safe</i> lies +a fortune always. Yet money must of necessity +become to you—psychologically—a mere commodity; +and the majority of the acts which its transfer and +safekeeping demand must grow to be almost mechanical +with you; for the mechanical serves you in two +ways: First, in the routine of your business, as, for +instance, with a <i>promissory note</i>, which to you means +a definite interval—perhaps <i>sixty days</i>—so that you +know automatically without looking at your calendars +that such a <i>note</i> drawn on <i>September 29th</i> would be +due to-day. And second, by enabling you to run +through these piles of bills with no more emotion than +if you were looking for <i>scraps</i> in a <i>waste-basket</i>, it +protects you from temptation, and is the reason why +an institution such as this can run for forty years +without ever finding it necessary to <i>arrest a thief</i>. I +need not tell you that both these mental attitudes are +of keen interest to psychologists. Now, if you will +write—”</p> + +<p>Watch in hand, Trant read slowly, at regular +intervals, the words on his list:</p> + +<table class="words"> +<tr><td class="n">1—</td><td>reship</td></tr> +<tr><td class="n">2—</td><td>ethics</td></tr> +<tr><td class="n">3—</td><td>Remington</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>A stifled exclamation made him lift his eyes, and he +saw Howell, who before had appeared merely curious +about the test, looking at him in astonishment. Trant +smiled, and continued:</p> + +<table class="words"> +<tr><td class="n">4—</td><td>shift key</td></tr> +<tr><td class="n">5—</td><td>secret writing</td></tr> +<tr><td class="n">6—</td><td>combination</td></tr> +<tr><td class="n">7—</td><td>waste-basket</td></tr> +<tr><td class="n">8—</td><td>ten thousand</td></tr> +<tr><td class="n">9—</td><td>five hundred</td></tr> +<tr><td class="n">10—</td><td>September 29th</td></tr> +<tr><td class="n">11—</td><td>promissory note</td></tr> +<tr><td class="n">12—</td><td>arrest</td></tr> +</table> + +<p>“That finishes it! Thank you all!” Trant +looked at Howell, who nodded to one of the clerks to +take up the papers. The banker swiftly preceded +Trant back to his private office, and when the door +was closed turned on him abruptly.</p> + +<p>“Who told you the combination of the safe?” he +demanded. “You had our word for this week and +the word for the week before. That couldn’t be +chance. Did Gordon tell you last night?”</p> + +<p>“You mean the words ‘reship’ and ‘ethics’?” +Trant replied. “No; he didn’t tell me. And it was +not chance, Mr. Howell.” He sat down and spread +out rapidly his dozen papers. “What—‘rifles’!” +he exclaimed at the third word in one of the first papers +he picked up. “And way off on ‘waste-basket’ and +‘shift key,’ too!” He glanced over all the list +rapidly and laid it aside. “What’s this?” Something +caught him quickly again after he had sifted the next +half dozen sheets. “ ‘Waste-basket’ gave <em>him</em> trouble, +too?” Trant stared, thoughtfully. “And think of +ten thousand ‘windows’ and five hundred ‘doors’!” +He put that paper aside also, glanced through the rest +and arose.</p> + +<p>“I asked Mr. Gordon to bring his son to the bank +with him this morning, Mr. Howell,” he said to his +client, seriously. “If he is there now please have him +come in. And, also, please send for,” he glanced again +at the name on the first paper he had put aside, “Byron +Ford!”</p> + +<p>Gordon had not yet come; but the door opened a +moment later and a young man of about twenty-five, +dapper and prematurely slightly bald, stood on the +threshold. “Ah, Ford!” said Howell, “Mr. Trant +asked to see you.”</p> + +<p>“Shut the door, please, Mr. Ford,” Trant commanded, +“and then come here; for I want to ask you,” +he continued without warning as Ford complied, “how +you came to be preparing to enter Mr. Howell’s +safe?”</p> + +<p>“What does he mean, Mr. Howell?” the clerk +appealed to his employer, with admirable surprise.</p> + +<p>“For the past month, Ford,” Trant replied, directly, +“you have been trying to get the combination +of the safe. Several times you probably actually got +it, but couldn’t make it out, till you got it again this +week and at last you guessed the key to the cipher +and young Gordon gave you the means of reading it! +Why were you going to that trouble to get the +combination if you were not going to rob the bank?”</p> + +<p>“Rob the bank! I was not going to rob the bank!” +the clerk cried, hotly.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t young Gordon out there now, Mr. Howell?” +Trant turned to the wondering banker quickly. +“Thank you! Gordon,” he said to the cashier’s son +who came in, reluctantly, “I have just been questioning +Ford, as perhaps you may guess, as to why you +and he have gone to so much trouble to learn the +combination of the safe. He declares that it was not +with an intention to rob. However, I think, Mr. +Howell,” Trant swung away from the boy to the +young banker, suggestively, “that if we turn Ford +over to the police—”</p> + +<p>“No, you shan’t!” the boy burst in. “He wasn’t +going to rob the safe! And you shan’t arrest him +or disgrace him as you disgraced me! For he was +only—only—”</p> + +<p>“Only getting the combination for you?” Trant +put in quickly, “so you could rob the bank +yourself!”</p> + +<p>“Rob the bank?” the boy shouted, less in control +of himself than before as he faced Howell with +clenched fists and flushed face. “Rob nothing! He +was only helping me so I could take back from +this — — bank what it stole from my father—the ten +thousand dollars it stole from him, for the money I +never lost. I was going to take ten thousand +dollars—not a cent more or less! And Ford knew it, and +thought I was right!”</p> + +<p>Trant interrupted, quietly: “I am sure you are +telling the truth, Gordon!”</p> + +<p>“You mean you are sure they meant only to take +the ten thousand?” the banker asked, dazed.</p> + +<p>“Yes; and also that young Gordon did not steal the +ten thousand dollars which was made up by his +father,” Trant assured.</p> + +<p>“How can you be sure of that?” Howell charged.</p> + +<p>“Send for Carl Shaffer, please!” Trant requested, +glancing quickly at the second sheet he had put aside.</p> + +<p>“What! Shaffer?” Howell questioned, as he +complied.</p> + +<p>“Yes; for he can tell us, I think—you can tell, +can’t you, Shaffer,” Trant corrected, as, at Howell’s +order, a short, stout, and overdressed clerk came in +and the door shut behind him, “what really happened +to the twenty five-hundred-dollar bills which +disappeared from the bank on September 29th? You +did not know, when you found them in Gordon’s +waste-basket, that they were missed or—if they +were—that they had brought anyone into trouble. You +have never known, have you,” Trant went on, mercilessly, +watching the eyes which could no longer meet +his, “that old Gordon, the cashier, thought he had +surely locked them into the dispatch bag for his son, +and that when the boy was dismissed a little later he +was in disgrace and charged as a thief for stealing +those bills? You have not known, have you, that a +black, bitter shadow has come over the old cashier +since then from that disgrace, and that he has had to +mortgage his home and give all his savings to make +up those twenty little slips of green paper you ‘found’ +in his room that morning! But you’ve counted the +days, almost the hours, since then, haven’t you? +You’ve counted the days till you could feel yourself +safe and be sure that no one would call for them? +Well, we call for them now! Where are they, +Shaffer? You haven’t spent or lost them?”</p> + +<p>The clerk stood with eyes fixed on Trant, as if +fascinated, and could make no reply. Twice, and +then again as Trant waited, he wet his lips and opened +them.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he +faltered at last.</p> + +<p>“Yes you do, Shaffer,” Trant rejoined quickly. +“For I’m talking of those twenty five-hundred-dollar +bills which you ‘found’ in Gordon’s waste-basket on +September 29th—sixty days ago, Shaffer! And, +through me, Mr. Howell is giving you a chance to +return the money and have the bank present at your +trial the extenuating circumstances,” he glanced at +Howell, who nodded, “or to refuse and have the bank +prosecute you, to the extent of its ability, as a thief!”</p> + +<p>“I am not a thief!” the clerk cried, bitterly. “I +found the money! If you saw me take it, if you +have known all these sixty days that I had it,” he +swung in his desperation toward the banker, “you +are worse than I am! Why did you let me keep it? +Why didn’t you ask me for it?”</p> + +<p>“We are asking you for it now, Shaffer,” said +Trant, catching the clerk by the arm, “if you still +have it.”</p> + +<p>The clerk looked at his employer, standing +speechless before him, and his head sank suddenly.</p> + +<p>“Of course I have it,” he said, sullenly. “You +know I have it!”</p> + +<p>Howell stepped to the door and called in the bank’s +special police officer.</p> + +<p>“You will go with Mr. Shaffer,” he said to the +burly man, “who will bring back to me here ten +thousand dollars in bills. You must be sure that he +does not get away from you, and—say nothing about +it.”</p> + +<p>When the door had closed upon them he turned to +the others. “As to you, Ford—”</p> + +<p>“Ford has not yet told us,” Trant interrupted, +“how he came to be in the game with Gordon.”</p> + +<p>“I got him in!” young Gordon answered, boldly. +“He—he comes to see—he wants to marry my +sister. I told him how they had taken our house from +us and were sending my sister to work and—and I +got him to help me.”</p> + +<p>“But your sister knew nothing of this?” Trant +asked.</p> + +<p>It brought a flush to both their cheeks. “No; of +course not!” the boy answered.</p> + +<p>Howell opened the door to the next office. “Go +in there, and wait for me,” he commanded. He took +out his handkerchief and wiped the perspiration from +his hands as he faced Trant alone. “So that was +what happened to the money! And what Gordon +knew, and was hiding from me, was that his son meant +to rob the bank!”</p> + +<p>“No, Howell,” Trant denied. “Gordon did not +know that.”</p> + +<p>“Then what was he trying to hide? Is there +another secret in this amazing affair?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; William Gordon’s secret; the fact that your +cashier is no longer efficient; that he is getting old, +and his memory has left him so that he cannot remember +during the week, even for a day, the single +combination word to open the safe.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” Howell demanded.</p> + +<p>“I will tell you all. It seemed to me,” Trant explained, +“when first you told me of the case, that the +cause of the troubles to the cashier was the effort of +some one to get at some secret personal paper which +the cashier carried, but the existence of which, for +some reason, Gordon could not confess to you. It +was clear, of course, from the consistent search made +of the cashier’s coat, pocketbook, and private papers +that the person who was trying to get it believed that +Gordon carried it about with him. It was clear, too, +from his taking the blotters and pads, that the +paper—probably a memorandum of some sort—was often +made out by Gordon at the office; for if Gordon wrote +in pencil upon a pad and tore off the first sheet, the +other man could hope to get an impression from the +next in the pad, and if Gordon wrote in ink, he might +get an obverse from the blotters. But besides this, +from the fact that the waste-baskets were searched, +it was clear that the fellow believed that the paper +would become valueless to Gordon after a time and +he would throw it away.</p> + +<p>“So much I could make out when you told me the +outlines of the case at my office. But I could make +absolutely nothing, then, of the reason for the +attempt to get into the typewriter desk. You also told +me then of young Gordon’s trouble; and I commented +at once upon the coincidence of one trouble coming +so soon after the other, though I was obviously unable +to even guess at the connection. But even then I was +not convinced at all that the mere fact that Gordon +and you all thought he had locked twenty-four thousand +dollars into the bag he gave his son made it +certain—in view of the fact that the seal was unbroken +when it was opened with but fourteen thousand +dollars in it at the branch bank. When I asked you +about that, you replied that old Gordon was unquestionably +honest and that he put all the money into the +satchel; that is, he <em>thought</em> he did or <em>intended</em> to, +but you never questioned at all whether he was <em>able</em> +to.”</p> + +<p>“Able to, Trant?” Howell repeated.</p> + +<p>“Yes; able to,” Trant reaffirmed. “I mean in +the sense of whether his condition made it a certainty +that he did what <em>he</em> was sure he was doing. I saw, +of course, that you, as a banker, could recognize but +two conditions in your employee; either he was honest +and the money was put in, or he was dishonest and +the money was withheld. But, as a psychologist, I +could appreciate that a man might very well be honest +and yet not put in the money, though he was <em>sure</em> he +did.</p> + +<p>“I went to your office then, already fairly sure that +Gordon was making some sort of a memorandum there +which he carried about for a while and then threw +away; that, for some reason, he could not tell you +of this; but that some one else was extremely anxious +to possess it. I also wished to investigate what I +may call the psychological possibility of Gordon’s not +having put in the ten thousand dollars as he thought +he did; and with this was the typewriter-desk episode, +of which I could make nothing at all.</p> + +<p>“You told me that Gordon had warned you that +trouble threatened the safe; and when I saw that it +was a simple combination safe with a six-letter word +combination intrusted to the cashier, it came to me +convincingly at once that Gordon’s memorandum +might well be the combination of the safe. If he had +been carrying the weekly word in his head for twenty +years, and now, mentally weakened by the disgrace +of his son, found himself unable to remember it, I +could appreciate how, with his savings gone, his home +mortgaged, untrained in any business but banking, +he would desperately conceal his condition from you +for fear of losing his position.</p> + +<p>“Obviously he would make a memorandum of +the combination each week at the office and throw +away the old one. This explained clearly why some +one was after it; but why that one should be after +the old memorandum, and what the breaking open +of the typewriter desk could have had to do with it, I +could not see at first, even after we surprised him +with his scraps of paper. But I made three short +tests of him. The first, a simple test of the +psychologists for memory, made by exhibiting to him a half +dozen figures formed by different combinations of the +same three lines, proved to me, as he could not reproduce +one of these figures correctly, that he had need +of a memorandum of the combination of the safe. +The other two tests—which are tests for attention—showed +that, besides having a failing memory, his +condition as regards attention was even worse. +Gordon lost the watch ticks, which I asked him to +mark with his finger, twice within forty-five seconds. +And, whereas any person with normal ‘attention’ +can write correctly from one to thirty while counting +aloud from one to fifty, Gordon was incapable of +keeping correctly to his set of figures under my very +slight distraction.</p> + +<p>“I assured myself thus that he was incapable of +correctly counting money under the distraction and +excitement such as was about him the morning of +the ‘run’; and I felt it probable that the missing +money was never put into the bag, and must either +have been lost in the bank or taken by some one else. +As I set myself, then, to puzzling out the mystery of +the scraps which I took from Gordon, I soon saw +that the writing ‘43$=80’ and ‘35=8?$,’ which +seemed perfectly senseless equations, might not be +equations at all, but secret writing instead, made up +of six symbols each, the number of letters in your +combination. Besides the numbers, the other three +symbols were common ones in commercial correspondence. +Then, the attack on old Gordon’s typewriter +desk. You told me he had been a stenographer; +and—it flashed to me.</p> + +<p>“He had not dared to write the combination in +plain letters; so he had hit on a very simple, but also +very ingenious, cipher. He wrote the word, not in +letters, but in the figures and symbols which accompanied +each letter on the keyboard of his old typewriting +machine. The cipher explained why the other man +was after the old combination in the waste-basket, +hoping to get enough words together so he could figure +them out, as he had been doing on the scraps of paper +which Gordon found. Till then Gordon might have +been in doubt as to the meaning of the annoyances; +but, finding those scraps, after the breaking open of his +old desk, left him in no doubt, as he warned you.”</p> + +<p>“I see! I see!” Howell nodded, intently.</p> + +<p>“The symbols made no word upon the typewriters +here in your office. Before I could be sure, I had to +see the cashier’s old machine, which Gordon—beginning +to fear his secret was discovered—had taken +home. When I saw that machine, ‘43$=80,’ by the +mere change of the shift key, gave me ‘reship,’ and +‘35=8?$’ gave me ‘ethics,’ two words of six letters, +as I had expected; but, to my surprise, I found that +young Gordon, as well as the fellow still in the bank, +was concerning himself strangely with his father’s +cipher, and I had him here this morning when I made +my test to find out, first, who it was here in the bank +that was after the combination; and, second, who, +if anyone, had taken the missing bills on September +29th.</p> + +<p>“Modern psychology gave me an easy method of +detecting these two persons. Before coming here +this morning I made up a list of words which must +necessarily connect themselves with their crimes in the +minds of the man who had plotted against the safe +and the one who had taken the bills. ‘Reship’ and +‘ethics’ were the combination words of the safe for +the last two weeks. ‘Remington’ suggested ‘typewriter’; +‘shift key,’ ‘combination,’ ‘secret writing,’ +and ‘waste-basket’ all were words which would +directly connect themselves with the attempt upon the +safe. ‘Ten thousand,’ ‘five hundred,’ ‘September +29th’ referred to the stealing of the bills. ‘Arrest,’ +with its association of ‘theft,’ would trouble both men.</p> + +<p>“You must have seen, I think, that the little speech +I made before giving the test was not merely what it +pretended to be. That speech was an excuse for me +to couple together and lay particular emphasis upon +the natural associations of certain words. So I +coupled and emphasized the natural association of +‘safe’ with ‘combination,’ ‘scraps’ with ‘waste-basket,’ +‘dollars’ with ‘ten thousand,’ and so on. In +no case did I attempt by my speech to supplant in +anyone’s mind his normal association with any one of +these words. Obviously, to all your clerks the +associations I suggested must be the most common, the +most impressive; and I took care thus to make them, +finally, the most recent. Then I could be sure that if +any one of them refused those normal associations +upon any considerable number of the words, that person +must have ‘suspicious’ connection with the crime +as the reason for changing his associations. I did +not care even whether he suspected the purpose of my +test. To refuse to write it would be a confession of +his guilt. And I was confident that if he did write it +he could not refrain from changing enough of these +associations to betray himself.</p> + +<p>“Now, the first thing which struck me with Ford’s +paper was that he had obviously erased his first words +for ‘reship’ and ‘ethics’ and substituted others. +Everyone else treated them easily, not knowing them +to be the combination words. Ford, however, wrote +something which didn’t satisfy him as being +‘innocent’ enough, and wrote again. There were no +‘normal’ associations for these words, and I had +suggested none. But note the next.</p> + +<p>“Typewriter was the common, the most insistent +and recent association for ‘Remington’ for all—except +Ford. It was for him, too, but any typewriter +had gained a guilty association in his mind. He was +afraid to put it down, so wrote ‘rifles.’ ‘Shift key,’ +the next word, of course intensified his connection with +the crime; so he refused to write naturally, as the +others did, either ‘typewriter’ or ‘dollar mark,’ and +wrote ‘trigger’ to give an unsuspicious appearance. +‘Secret writing’ recalled at once the ‘symbols’ which +I had suggested to him, and which, of course, were +in his mind anyway; but he wrote ‘cable code’—not +in itself entirely unnatural for one in a bank. The +next word, ‘combination,’ to everyone in a bank, at all +times—particularly if just emphasized—suggests its +association, ‘safe’; and every single one of the others, +who had no guilty connection to conceal, so associated +it. Ford went out of his way to write ‘monopoly.’ +And his next association of ‘rifle,’ again, with +‘waste-basket’ is perhaps the most interesting of all. As he +had been searching the waste-basket for ‘scraps’ he +thought it suspicious to put down that entirely natural +association; but scraps recalled to him those scraps +bearing ‘typewriter’ symbols, and, avoiding the word +typewriter, he substituted for it his innocent +association, ‘rifle.’</p> + +<p>“The next words on my list were those put in to +betray the man who had taken the money—Shaffer. +‘Ten thousand,’ the amount he had taken, suggested +dollars to him, of course; but he was afraid to write +dollars. He wanted to appear entirely unconnected +with any ‘ten thousand dollars’; so he wrote ‘doors.’ +At ‘five hundred’ Shaffer, with twenty stolen five-hundred +dollar bills in his possession, preferred to appear +to be thinking of five hundred ‘windows.’ +‘September 29th,’ the day of the theft, was burned into +Shaffer’s brain, so, avoiding it, he wrote ‘last year.’ +‘Promissory note’ in the replies of most of your +clerks brought out the natural connection of ‘sixty +days’ suggested in my speech, but Shaffer—since it +was just sixty days since he stole—avoided it, precisely +as both he and Ford, fearing arrest as thieves, +avoided—and were the only ones who avoided—the +line of least resistance in my last word. And the +evidence was complete against them!”</p> + +<p>Howell was staring at the lists, amazed. “I see! +I see!” he cried, in awe. “There is only one thing.” +He raised his head. “It is clear here, of course, now +that you have explained it, how you knew Shaffer +was the one who took the money; but, was it a guess +that he found it in the waste-basket?”</p> + +<p>“No; rather a chance that I was able to determine +it,” Trant replied. “All his associations for the early +words, except one, are as natural and easy as anyone +else’s, for these were the words put in to detect Ford. +But for some reason, ‘waste-basket’ troubled Shaffer, +too. Supposing the money was lost by old Gordon +in putting it into the bag, it seemed more than +probable that Shaffer’s disturbance over this word came +from the fact that Gordon had tossed the missing bills +into the waste-basket.”</p> + +<p>There was a knock on the door. The special police +officer of the bank entered with Shaffer, who laid a +package on the desk.</p> + +<p>“This is correct, Shaffer,” Howell acknowledged +as he ran quickly through the bills. He stepped to +the door. “Send Mr. Gordon here,” he commanded.</p> + +<p>“You were in time to save Gordon and Ford, +Trant,” the banker continued. “I shall merely dismiss +Ford. Shaffer is a thief and must be punished. +Old Gordon—”</p> + +<p>He stopped and turned quickly as the old cashier +entered without knocking.</p> + +<p>“Gordon,” said the acting-president, pointing to the +packet of money on the desk, “I have sent for you to +return to you this money—the ten thousand dollars +which you gave to the bank—and to tell you that your +son was not a thief, though this gentleman has just +saved us, I am afraid, from making him one. In saving +the boy, Gordon, he had to discover and reveal to +me that you have worn yourself out in our service. +But, I shall see that you can retire when father +returns, with a proper pension.”</p> + +<p>The old cashier stared at his young employer dully +for a moment; his dim eyes dropped, uncomprehending, +to the packet of money on the desk. Then he +came forward slowly, with bowed head, and took it.</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter" id="ch05"> + +<h2>V. <br> The Man Higher Up</h2> + +<p>The first real blizzard of the winter had burst upon +New York from the Atlantic. For seventy-two hours—as +Rentland, file clerk in the Broadway offices of +the American Commodities Company, saw from the +record he was making for President Welter—no ship +of any of the dozen expected from foreign ports had +been able to make the Company’s docks in Brooklyn, +or, indeed, had been reported at Sandy Hook. And +for the last five days, during which the weather bureau’s +storm signals had stayed steadily set, no steamer +of the six which had finished unloading at the docks +the week before had dared to try for the open sea +except one, the <i>Elizabethan Age</i>, which had cleared the +Narrows on Monday night.</p> + +<p>On land the storm was scarcely less disastrous to +the business of the great importing company. Since +Tuesday morning Rentland’s reports of the car and +train-load consignments which had left the warehouses +daily had been a monotonous page of trains stalled. +But until that Friday morning, Welter—the big, +bull-necked, thick-lipped master of men and money—had +borne all the accumulated trouble of the week with +serenity, almost with contempt. Only when the file +clerk added to his report the minor item that the +3,000-ton steamer, <i>Elizabethan Age</i>, which had cleared +on Monday night, had been driven into Boston, something +suddenly seemed to “break” in the inner office. +Rentland heard the president’s secretary telephone to +Brooklyn for Rowan, the dock superintendent; he +heard Welter’s heavy steps going to and fro in the +private office, his hoarse voice raised angrily; and soon +afterwards Rowan blustered in. Rentland could no +longer overhear the voices. He went back to his own +private office and called the station master at the +Grand Central Station on the telephone.</p> + +<p>“The seven o’clock train from Chicago?” the clerk +asked in a guarded voice. “It came in at 10.30, as +expected? Oh, at 10.10! Thank you.” He hung +up the receiver and opened the door to pass a word +with Rowan as he came out of the president’s office.</p> + +<p>“They’ve wired that the <i>Elizabethan Age</i> couldn’t +get beyond Boston, Rowan,” he cried curiously.</p> + +<p>“The — — — hooker!” The dock superintendent +had gone strangely white; for the imperceptible +fraction of an instant his eyes dimmed with fear, as he +stared into the wondering face of the clerk, but he +recovered himself quickly, spat offensively, and +slammed the door as he went out. Rentland stood +with clenching hands for a moment; then he glanced +at the clock and hurried to the entrance of the outer +office. The elevator was just bringing up from the +street a red-haired, blue-gray-eyed young man of +medium height, who, noting with a quick, intelligent +glance the arrangement of the offices, advanced +directly toward President Welter’s door. The chief +clerk stepped forward quickly.</p> + +<p>“You are Mr. Trant?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“I am Rentland. This way, please.” He led the +psychologist to the little room behind the files, where +he had telephoned the moment before.</p> + +<p>“Your wire to me in Chicago, which brought me +here,” said Trant, turning from the inscription “File +Clerk” on the door to the dogged, decisive features +and wiry form of his client, “gave me to understand +that you wished to have me investigate the disappearance, +or death, of two of your dock scalecheckers. I +suppose you were acting for President Welter—of +whom I have heard—in sending for me?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Rentland, as he waved Trant to a seat. +“President Welter is certainly not troubling himself +to that extent over an investigation.”</p> + +<p>“Then the company, or some other officer?” Trant +questioned, with increasing curiosity.</p> + +<p>“No; nor the company, nor any other officer in it, +Mr. Trant.” Rentland smiled. “Nor even am I, as +file clerk of the American Commodities Company, +overtroubling myself about those checkers,” he leaned +nearer to Trant, confidentially, “but as a special agent +for the United States Treasury Department I am +extremely interested in the death of one of these men, +and in the disappearance of the other. And for that +I called you to help me.”</p> + +<p>“As a secret agent for the Government?” Trant +repeated, with rapidly rising interest.</p> + +<p>“Yes; a spy, if you wish to call me, but as truly in +the ranks of the enemies to my country as any Nathan +Hale, who has a statue in this city. To-day the +enemies are the big, corrupting, thieving corporations +like this company; and appreciating that, I am not +ashamed to be a spy in their ranks, commissioned by +the Government to catch and condemn President Welter, +and any other officers involved with him, for +systematically stealing from the Government for the past +ten years, and for probable connivance in the murder +of at least one of those two checkers so that the +company might continue to steal.”</p> + +<p>“To steal? How?”</p> + +<p>“Customs frauds, thefts, smuggling—anything you +wish to call it. Exactly what or how, I can’t tell; +for that is part of what I sent for you to find out. For +a number of years the Customs Department has +suspected, upon circumstantial evidence, that the +enormous profits of this company upon the thousand and +one things which it is importing and distributing must +come in part from goods they have got through without +paying the proper duty. So at my own suggestion +I entered the employ of the company a year ago to +get track of the method. But after a year here I was +almost ready to give up the investigation in despair, +when Ed Landers, the company’s checker on the docks +in scale house No. 3, was killed—accidentally, the +coroner’s jury said. To me it looked suspiciously like +murder. Within two weeks Morse, who was appointed +as checker in his place, suddenly disappeared. +The company’s officials showed no concern as to the +fate of these two men; and my suspicions that something +crooked might be going on at scale house No. 3 +were strengthened; and I sent for you to help me to +get at the bottom of things.”</p> + +<p>“Is it not best then to begin by giving me as fully +as possible the details of the employment of Morse and +Landers, and also of their disappearance?” the young +psychologist suggested.</p> + +<p>“I have told you these things here, Trant, rather +than take you to some safer place,” the secret agent +replied, “because I have been waiting for some one +who can tell you what you need to know better than I +can. Edith Rowan, the stepdaughter of the dock +superintendent, knew Landers well, for he boarded at +Rowan’s house. She was—or is, if he still lives—engaged +to Morse. It is an unusual thing for Rowan +himself to come here to see President Welter, as he +did just before you came; but every morning since +Morse disappeared his daughter has come to see Welter +personally. She is already waiting in the outer +office.” Opening the door, he indicated to Trant a +light-haired, overdressed, nervous girl twisting about +uneasily on the seat outside the president’s private +office.</p> + +<p>“Welter thinks it policy, for some reason, to see +her a moment every morning. But she always comes +out almost at once—crying.”</p> + +<p>“This is interesting,” Trant commented, as he +watched the girl go into the president’s office. After +only a moment she came out, crying. Rentland had +already left his room, so it seemed by chance that he +and Trant met and supported her to the elevator, and +over the slippery pavement to the neat electric coupé +which was standing at the curb.</p> + +<p>“It’s hers,” said Rentland, as Trant hesitated before +helping the girl into it. “It’s one of the things I +wanted you to see. Broadway is very slippery, Miss +Rowan. You will let me see you home again this +morning? This gentleman is Mr. Trant, a private +detective. I want him to come along with us.”</p> + +<p>The girl acquiesced, and Trant crowded into the +little automobile. Rentland turned the coupé skillfully +out into the swept path of the street, ran swiftly down +Fifth Avenue to Fourteenth Street, and stopped three +streets to the east before a house in the middle of the +block. The house was as narrow and cramped and +as cheaply constructed as its neighbors on both sides. +It had lace curtains conspicuous in every window, and +impressive statuettes, vases, and gaudy bits of +bric-à-brac in the front rooms.</p> + +<p>“He told me again that Will must still be off +drunk; and Will never takes a drink,” she spoke to +them for the first time, as they entered the little sitting +room.</p> + +<p>“ ‘He’ is Welter,” Rentland explained to Trant. +“ ‘Will’ is Morse, the missing man. Now, Miss +Rowan, I have brought Mr. Trant with me because I +have asked him to help me find Morse for you, as I +promised; and I want you to tell him everything you +can about how Landers was killed and how Morse +disappeared.”</p> + +<p>“And remember,” Trant interposed, “that I know +very little about the American Commodities +Company.”</p> + +<p>“Why, Mr. Trant,” the girl gathered herself +together, “you cannot help knowing something about +the company! It imports almost everything—tobacco, +sugar, coffee, wines, olives, and preserved fruits, +oils, and all sorts of table delicacies, from all over the +world, even from Borneo, Mr. Trant, and from +Madagascar and New Zealand. It has big warehouses at +the docks with millions of dollars’ worth of goods +stored in them. My stepfather has been with the +company for years, and has charge of all that goes on +at the docks.”</p> + +<p>“Including the weighing?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; everything on which there is a duty when it +is taken off the boats has to be weighed, and to do this +there are big scales, and for each one a scale house. +When a scale is being used there are two men in the +scale house. One of these is the Government weigher, +who sets the scale to a balance and notes down the +weight in a book. The other man, who is an employee +of the company, writes the weight also in a +book of his own; and he is called the company’s +checker. But though there are half a dozen scales, +almost everything, when it is possible, is unloaded in +front of scale No. 3, for that is the best berth for +ships.”</p> + +<p>“And Landers?”</p> + +<p>“Landers was the company’s checker on scale No. 3. +Well, about five weeks ago I began to see that Mr. +Landers was troubled about something. Twice a +queer, quiet little man with a scar on his cheek came +to see him, and each time they went up to Mr. +Landers’s room and talked a long while. Ed’s room was +over the sitting room, and after the man had gone I +could hear him walking back and forth—walking and +walking until it seemed as though he would never stop. +I told father about this man who troubled Mr. Landers, +and he asked him about it, but Mr. Landers flew +into a rage and said it was nothing of importance. +Then one night—it was a Wednesday—everybody +stayed late at the docks to finish unloading the steamer +<i>Covallo</i>. About two o’clock father got home, but Mr. +Landers had not been ready to come with him. He +did not come all that night, and the next day he did +not come home.</p> + +<p>“Now, Mr. Trant, they are very careful at the +warehouses about who goes in and out, because so many +valuable things are stored there. On one side the +warehouses open onto the docks, and at each end they +are fenced off so that you cannot go along the docks +and get away from them that way; and on the other +side they open onto the street through great driveway +doors, and at every door, as long as it is open, there +stands a watchman, who sees everybody that goes in +and out. Only one door was open that Wednesday +night, and the watchman there had not seen Mr. Landers +go out. And the second night passed, and he did +not come home. But the next morning, Friday morning,” +the girl caught her breath hysterically, “Mr. +Landers’s body was found in the engine room back +of scale house No. 3, with the face crushed in +horribly!”</p> + +<p>“Was the engine room occupied?” said Trant, +quickly. “It must have been occupied in the daytime, +and probably on the night when Landers disappeared, +as they were unloading the <i>Covallo</i>. But on the night +after which the body was found—was it occupied +that night?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, Mr. Trant. I think it could not +have been, for after the verdict of the coroner’s jury, +which was that Mr. Landers had been killed by some +part of the machinery, it was said that the accident +must have happened either the evening before, just +before the engineer shut off his engines, or the first +thing that morning, just after he had started them; +for otherwise somebody in the engine room would have +seen it.”</p> + +<p>“But where had Landers been all day Thursday, +Miss Rowan, from two o’clock on the second night +before, when your father last saw him, until the +accident in the engine room?”</p> + +<p>“It was supposed he had been drunk. When his +body was found, his clothes were covered with fibers +from the coffee-sacking, and the jury supposed he had +been sleeping off his liquor in the coffee warehouse +during Thursday. But I had known Ed Landers for +almost three years, and in all that time I never knew +him to take even one drink.”</p> + +<p>“Then it was a very unlikely supposition. You +do not believe in that accident, Miss Rowan?” Trant +said, brusquely.</p> + +<p>The girl grew white as paper. “Oh, Mr. Trant, +I don’t know! I did believe in it. But since +Will—Mr. Morse—has disappeared in exactly the same +way, under exactly the same circumstances, and +everyone acts about it exactly the same way—”</p> + +<p>“You say the circumstances of Morse’s disappearance +were the same?” Trant pressed quietly when she +was able to proceed.</p> + +<p>“After Mr. Landers had been found dead,” said +the girl, pulling herself together again, “Mr. Morse, +who had been checker in one of the other scale houses, +was made checker on scale No. 3. We were surprised +at that, for it was a sort of promotion, and father +did not like Will; he had been greatly displeased at +our engagement. Will’s promotion made us very +happy, for it seemed as though father must be changing +his opinion. But after Will had been checker on +scale No. 3 only a few days, the same queer, quiet +little man with the scar on his cheek who had begun +coming to see Mr. Landers before he was killed began +coming to see Will, too! And after he began coming, +Will was troubled, terribly troubled, I could see; but +he would not tell me the reason. And he expected, +after that man began coming, that something would +happen to him. And I know, from the way he acted +and spoke about Mr. Landers, that he thought he +had not been accidentally killed. One evening, when I +could see he had been more troubled than ever before, +he said that if anything happened to him I was to go +at once to his boarding house and take charge of +everything in his room, and not to let anyone into the room +to search it until I had removed everything in the +bureau drawers; everything, no matter how useless +anything seemed. Then, the very next night, five +days ago, just as while Mr. Landers was checker, +everybody stayed overtime at the docks to finish +unloading a vessel, the <i>Elizabethan Age</i>. And in the +morning Will’s landlady called me on the phone to +tell me that he had not come home. Five days ago, +Mr. Trant! And since then no one has seen or heard +from him; and the watchman did not see him come +out of the warehouse that night just as he did not see +Ed Landers.”</p> + +<p>“What did you find in Morse’s bureau?” asked +Trant.</p> + +<p>“I found nothing.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing?” Trant repeated. “That is impossible, +Miss Rowan! Think again! Remember he warned +you that what you found might seem trivial and +useless.”</p> + +<p>The girl, a little defiantly, studied for an instant +Trant’s clear-cut features. Suddenly she arose and +ran from the room, but returned quickly with a strange +little implement in her hand.</p> + +<p>It was merely a bit of wire, straight for perhaps +three inches, and then bent in a half circle of five or +six inches, the bent portion of the wire being wound +carefully with stout twine, thus:</p> + +<figure> + <img src="images/figure5-1.png" alt="A sickle-shaped wire, with + string wrapped around the curved section."> +</figure> + +<p>“Except for his clothes and some blank writing +paper and envelopes that was absolutely the only thing +in the bureau. It was the only thing at all in the only +locked drawer.”</p> + +<p>Trant and Rentland stared disappointedly at this +strange implement, which the girl handed to the +psychologist.</p> + +<p>“You have shown this to your stepfather, Miss +Rowan, for a possible explanation of why a company +checker should be so solicitous about such a thing as +this?” asked Trant.</p> + +<p>“No,” the girl hesitated. “Will had told me not to +say anything; and I told you father did not like Will. +He had made up his mind that I was to marry Ed +Landers. In most ways father is kind and generous. +He’s kept the coupé we came here in for mother and +me for two years; and you see,” she gestured a little +proudly about the bedecked and badly furnished rooms, +“you see how he gets everything for us. Mr. Landers +was most generous, too. He took me to the theaters +two or three times every week—always the best +seats, too. I didn’t want to go, but father made me. +I preferred Will, though he wasn’t so generous.”</p> + +<p>Trant’s eyes returned, with more intelligent +scrutiny, to the mysterious implement in his hand.</p> + +<p>“What salary do checkers receive, Rentland?” he +asked, in a low tone.</p> + +<p>“One hundred and twenty-five dollars a month.”</p> + +<p>“And her father, the dock superintendent—how +much?” Trant’s expressive glance now jumping +about from one gaudy, extravagant trifle in the room +to another, caught a glimpse again of the electric +coupé standing in the street, then returned to the tiny +bit of wire in his hand.</p> + +<p>“Three thousand a year,” Rentland replied.</p> + +<p>“Tell me, Miss Rowan,” said Trant, “this +implement—have you by any chance mentioned it to +President Welter?”</p> + +<p>“Why, no, Mr. Trant.”</p> + +<p>“You are sure of that? Excellent! Excellent! +Now the queer, quiet little man with the scar on his +cheek who came to see Morse; no one could tell you +anything about him?”</p> + +<p>“No one, Mr. Trant; but yesterday Will’s landlady +told me that a man has come to ask for Will every +forenoon since he disappeared, and she thinks this may +be the man with the scar, though she can’t be sure, for +he kept the collar of his overcoat up about his face. +She was to telephone me if he came again.”</p> + +<p>“If he comes this morning,” Trant glanced quickly +at his watch, “you and I, Rentland, might much +better be waiting for him over there.”</p> + +<p>The psychologist rose, putting the bent, twine-wound +bit of wire carefully into his pocket; and a minute later +the two men crossed the street to the house, already +known to Rentland, where Morse had boarded. The +landlady not only allowed them to wait in her little +parlor, but waited with them until at the end of an +hour she pointed with an eager gesture to a short man +in a big ulster who turned sharply up the front steps.</p> + +<p>“That’s him—see!” she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“That the man with the scar!” cried Rentland. +“Well! I know him.”</p> + +<p>He made for the door, caught at the ulster and +pulled the little man into the house by main force.</p> + +<p>“Well, Dickey!” the secret agent challenged, as the +man faced him in startled recognition. “What are +you doing in this case? Trant, this is Inspector +Dickey, of the Customs Office,” he introduced the +officer.</p> + +<p>“I’m in the case on my own hook, if I know what +case you’re talking about,” piped Dickey. “Morse, +eh? and the American Commodities Company, eh?”</p> + +<p>“Exactly,” said Rentland, brusquely. “What were +you calling to see Landers for?”</p> + +<p>“You know about that?” The little man looked up +sharply. “Well, six weeks ago Landers came to me +and told me he had something to sell; a secret system +for beating the customs. But before we got to terms, +he began losing his nerve a little; he got it back, +however, and was going to tell me when, all at once, he +disappeared, and two days later he was dead! That made +it hotter for me; so I went after Morse. But Morse +denied he knew anything. Then Morse disappeared, +too.”</p> + +<p>“So you got nothing at all out of them?” Rentland +interposed.</p> + +<p>“Nothing I could use. Landers, one time when he +was getting up his nerve, showed me a piece of bent +wire—with string around it—in his room, and began +telling me something when Rowan called him, and +then he shut up.”</p> + +<p>“A bent wire!” Trant cried, eagerly. “Like +this?” He took from his pocket the implement given +him by Edith Rowan. “Morse had this in his room, +the only thing in a locked drawer.”</p> + +<p>“The same thing!” Dickey cried, seizing it. “So +Morse had it, too, after he became checker at scale +No. 3, where the cheating is, if anywhere. The very +thing Landers started to explain to me, and how they +cheated the customs with it. I say, we must have it +now, Rentland! We need only go to the docks and +watch them while they weigh, and see how they use it, +and arrest them and then we have them at last, eh, old +man?” he cried in triumph. “We have them at last!”</p> + +<p>“You mean,” Trant cut in upon the customs man, +“that you can convict and jail perhaps the checker, or +a foreman, or maybe even a dock superintendent—as +usual. But the men higher up—the big men who are +really at the bottom of this business and the only ones +worth getting—will you catch them?”</p> + +<p>“We must take those we can get,” said Dickey +sharply.</p> + +<p>Trant laid his hand on the little officer’s arm.</p> + +<p>“I am a stranger to you,” he said, “but if you have +followed some of the latest criminal cases in Illinois +perhaps you know that, using the methods of modern +practical psychology, I have been able to get results +where old ways have failed. We are front to front +now with perhaps the greatest problem of modern +criminal catching, to catch, in cases involving a great +corporation, not only the little men low down who +perform the criminal acts, but the men higher up, who +conceive, or connive at the criminal scheme. +Rentland, I did not come here to convict merely a dock +foreman; but if we are going to reach anyone higher +than that, you must not let Inspector Dickey excite +suspicion by prying into matters at the docks this +afternoon!”</p> + +<p>“But what else can we do?” said Rentland, +doubtfully.</p> + +<p>“Modern practical psychology gives a dozen possible +ways for proving the knowledge of the man higher +up in this corporation crime,” Trant answered, “and +I am considering which is the most practicable. Only +tell me,” he demanded suddenly; “Mr. Welter I have +heard is one of the rich men of New York who make +it a fad to give largely to universities and other +institutions; can you tell me with what ones he may be most +closely interested?”</p> + +<p>“I have heard,” Rentland replied, “that he is one of +the patrons of the Stuyvesant School of Science. It +is probably the most fashionably patroned institution in +New York; and Welter’s name, I know, figures with +it in the newspapers.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing could be better!” Trant exclaimed. +“Kuno Schmalz has his psychological laboratory there. +I see my way now, Rentland; and you will hear from +me early in the afternoon. But keep away from the +docks!” He turned and left the astonished customs +officers abruptly. Half an hour later the young +psychologist sent in his card to Professor Schmalz in +the laboratory of the Stuyvesant School of Science. +The German, broad-faced, spectacled, beaming, +himself came to the laboratory door.</p> + +<p>“Is it Mr. Trant—the young, apt pupil of my old +friend, Dr. Reiland?” he boomed, admiringly. “Ach! +luck is good to Reiland! For twenty years I, too, +have shown them in the laboratory how fear, guilt, +every emotion causes in the body reactions which can +be measured. But do they apply it? Pouf! No! it +remains to them all impractical, academic, because I +have only nincompoops in my classes!”</p> + +<p>“Professor Schmalz,” said Trant, following him +into the laboratory, and glancing from one to another +of the delicate instruments with keen interest, “tell me +along what line you are now working.”</p> + +<p>“Ach! I have been for a year now experimenting +with the plethysmograph and the pneumograph. I +make a taste, I make a smell, or I make a noise to excite +feeling in the subject; and I read by the plethysmograph +that the volume of blood in the hand decreases +under the emotions and that the pulse quickens; and +by the pneumograph I read that the breathing is easier +or quicker, depending on whether the emotions are +pleasant or unpleasant. I have performed this year +more than two thousand of those experiments.”</p> + +<p>“Good! I have a problem in which you can be of +the very greatest use to me; and the plethysmograph +and the pneumograph will serve my purpose as well as +any other instrument in the laboratory. For no +matter how hardened a man may be, no matter how +impossible it may have become to detect his feelings in +his face or bearing, he cannot prevent the volume of +blood in his hand from decreasing, and his breathing +from becoming different, under the influence of +emotions of fear or guilt. By the way, professor, is Mr. +Welter familiar with these experiments of yours?”</p> + +<p>“What, he!” cried the stout German. “For why +should I tell him about them? He knows nothing. +He has bought my time to instruct classes; he has not +bought, py chiminey! everything—even the soul Gott +gave me!”</p> + +<p>“But he would be interested in them?”</p> + +<p>“To be sure, he would be interested in them! He +would bring in his automobile three or four other fat +money-makers, and he would show me off before them. +He would make his trained bear—that is +me—dance!”</p> + +<p>“Good!” cried Trant again, excitedly. “Professor +Schmalz, would you be willing to give a little +exhibition of the plethysmograph and pneumograph, this +evening, if possible, and arrange for President Welter +to attend it?”</p> + +<p>The astute German cast on him a quick glance of +interrogation. “Why not?” he said. “It makes nothing +to me what purpose you will be carrying out; no, +py chiminey! not if it costs me my position of trained +bear; because I have confidence in my psychology that +it will not make any innocent man suffer!”</p> + +<p>“And you will have two or three scientists present +to watch the experiments? And you will allow me to +be there also and assist?”</p> + +<p>“With great pleasure.”</p> + +<p>“But, Professor Schmalz, you need not introduce +me to Mr. Welter, who will think I am one of your +assistants.”</p> + +<p>“As you wish about that, pupil of my dear old +friend.”</p> + +<p>“Excellent!” Trant leaped to his feet. “Provided +it is possible to arrange this with Mr. Welter, +how soon can you let me know?”</p> + +<p>“Ach! it is as good as arranged, I tell you. His +vanity will arrange it if I assure the greatest +publicity—”</p> + +<p>“The more publicity the better.”</p> + +<p>“Wait! It shall be fixed before you leave here.”</p> + +<p>The professor led the way into his private study, +telephoned to the president of the American +Commodities Company, and made the appointment without +trouble.</p> + +<hr> + +<p>A few minutes before eight o’clock that evening +Trant again mounted rapidly the stone steps to the +professor’s laboratory. The professor and two others, +who were bending over a table in the center of the +room, turned at his entrance. President Welter had +not yet arrived. The young psychologist acknowledged +with pleasure the introduction to the two scientists +with Schmalz. Both of them were known to him +by name, and he had been following with interest a +series of experiments which the elder, Dr. Annerly, +had been reporting in a psychological journal. Then +he turned at once to the apparatus on the table.</p> + +<p>He was still examining the instruments when the +noise of a motor stopping at the door warned him of +the arrival of President Welter’s party. Then the +laboratory door opened and the party appeared. They +also were three in number; stout men, rather obtrusively +dressed, in jovial spirits, with strong faces +flushed now with the wine they had taken at dinner.</p> + +<p>“Well, professor, what fireworks are you going to +show us to-night?” asked Welter, patronizingly. +“Schmalz,” he explained to his companions, “is the +chief ring master of this circus.”</p> + +<p>The bearded face of the German grew purple under +Welter’s jokingly overbearing manner; but he turned +to the instruments and began to explain them. The +Marey pneumograph, which the professor first took up, +consists of a very thin flexible brass plate suspended by +a cord around the neck of the person under examination, +and fastened tightly against the chest by a cord +circling the body. On the outer surface of this plate +are two small, bent levers, connected at one end to the +cord around the body of the subject, and at the other +end to the surface of a small hollow drum fastened to +the plate between the two. As the chest rises and +falls in breathing, the levers press more and less upon +the surface of the drum; and this varying pressure +on the air inside the drum is transmitted from the +drum through an air-tight tube to a little pencil which +it drops and lifts. The pencil, as it rises and falls, +touching always a sheet of smoked paper traveling over +a cylinder on the recording device, traces a line whose +rising strokes represent accurately the drawing of air +into the chest and whose falling represents its +expulsion.</p> + +<p>It was clear to Trant that the professor’s rapid +explanation, though plain enough to the psychologists +already familiar with the device, was only partly +understood by the big men. It had not been explained +to them that changes in the breathing so slight as to +be imperceptible to the eye would be recorded +unmistakably by the moving pencil.</p> + +<p>Professor Schmalz turned to the second instrument. +This was a plethysmograph, designed to measure the +increase or decrease of the size of one finger of a +person under examination as the blood supply to that +finger becomes greater or less. It consists primarily of a +small cylinder so constructed that it can be fitted over +the finger and made air-tight. Increase or decrease +of the size of the finger then increases or decreases the +air pressure inside the cylinder. These changes in the +air pressure are transmitted through an air-tight tube +to a delicate piston which moves a pencil and makes +a line upon the record sheet just under that made by +the pneumograph. The upward or downward trend +of this line shows the increase or decrease of the blood +supply, while the smaller vibrations up and down +record the pulse beat in the finger.</p> + +<p>There was still a third pencil touching the record +sheet above the other two and wired electrically to a +key like that of a telegraph instrument fastened to the +table. When this key was in its normal position this +pencil made simply a straight line upon the sheet; but +instantly when the key was pressed down, the line +broke downward also.</p> + +<p>This third instrument was used merely to record on +the sheet, by the change in the line, the point at which +the object that aroused sensation or emotion was +displayed to the person undergoing examination.</p> + +<p>The instant’s silence which followed Schmalz’s rapid +explanation was broken by one of Welter’s companions +with the query:</p> + +<p>“Well, what’s the use of all this stuff, anyway?”</p> + +<p>“Ach!” said Schmalz, bluntly, “it is interesting, +curious! I will show you.”</p> + +<p>“Will one of you gentlemen,” said Trant, quickly, +“permit us to make use of him in the +demonstration?”</p> + +<p>“Try it, Jim,” Welter laughed, noisily.</p> + +<p>“Not I,” said the other. “This is your circus.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, indeed it’s mine. And I’m not afraid of it. +Schmalz, do your worst!” He dropped laughing into +the chair the professor set for him, and at Schmalz’s +direction unbuttoned his vest. The professor hung +the pneumograph around his neck and fastened it +tightly about the big chest. He laid Welter’s forearm +in a rest suspended from the ceiling, and attached +the cylinder to the second finger of the plump hand. +In the meantime Trant had quickly set the pencils to +bear upon the record sheet and had started the cylinder +on which the sheet traveled under them.</p> + +<p>“You see, I have prepared for you.” Schmalz +lifted a napkin from a tray holding several little +dishes. He took from one of these a bit of caviar and +laid it upon Welter’s tongue. At the same instant +Trant pushed down the key. The pencils showed a +slight commotion, and the spectators stared at this +record sheet:</p> + +<figure> + <img src="images/figure5-2.png" alt="A polygraph record consisting + of three lines. The top line is straight except for a dip at the + one-third point. The middle line rises and falls a dozen times; + at the one-third point its curves become smaller for several + wavelengths. The bottom line consists of many small zigzags, and + dips down at the one-third point before slowly rising back to + its original height."> +</figure> + +<p>“Ah!” exclaimed Schmalz, “you do not like +caviar.”</p> + +<p>“How do you know that?” demanded Welter.</p> + +<p>“The instruments show that at the unpleasant taste +you breathe less freely—not so deep. Your finger, +as under strong sensation or emotion, grows smaller, +and your pulse beats more rapidly.”</p> + +<p>“By the Lord! Welter, what do you think of +that?” cried one of his companions; “your finger gets +smaller when you taste caviar!”</p> + +<p>It was a joke to them. Boisterously laughing, they +tried Welter with other food upon the tray; they +lighted for him one of the black cigars of which he +was most fond, and watched the trembling pencils +write the record of his pleasure at the taste and smell. +Through it all Trant waited, alert, watchful, biding +the time to carry out his plan. It came when, having +exhausted the articles at hand, they paused to find +some other means to carry on the amusement. The +young psychologist leaned forward suddenly.</p> + +<p>“It is no great ordeal after all, is it, Mr. Welter?” +he said. “Modern psychology does not put its +subjects to torture like”—he halted, meaningly—“<em>a +prisoner in the Elizabethan Age</em>!”</p> + +<p>Dr. Annerly, bending over the record sheet, uttered +a startled exclamation. Trant, glancing keenly at him, +straightened triumphantly. But the young psychologist +did not pause. He took quickly from his pocket +a photograph, showing merely a heap of empty coffee +sacks piled carelessly to a height of some two feet along +the inner wall of a shed, and laid it in front of the +subject. Welter’s face did not alter; but again the +pencils shuddered over the moving paper, and the +watchers stared with astonishment. Rapidly removing +the photograph, Trant substituted for it the bent +wire given him by Miss Rowan. Then for the +last time he swung to the instrument, and as his eyes +caught the wildly vibrating pencils, they flared with +triumph.</p> + +<figure id="illus5"> + <img src="images/illus5.jpg" alt="In a crowded laboratory, an older + gentleman sits alongside a table. His right hand rests on the + table, and wires lead from his fingers to an electrical machine. + Atop the machine a roll of dark paper scrolls past a moving + needle that leaves a light zigzag mark on the paper. Behind the + gentleman a crowd of several other man carefully watch the marks + made on the scrolling paper."> + <figcaption>Welter’s face did not alter; the watchers + stared with astonishment</figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>President Welter rose abruptly, but not too hurriedly. +“That’s about enough of this tomfoolery,” he +said, with perfect self-possession.</p> + +<p>His jaw had imperceptibly squared to the watchful +determination of the prize fighter driven into his +corner. His cheek still held the ruddy glow of health; +but the wine flush had disappeared from it, and he was +perfectly sober.</p> + +<p>Trant tore the strip of paper from the instrument, +and numbered the last three reactions 1, 2, 3. This is +the way the records looked:</p> + +<figure> + <figure> + <img src="images/figure5-3.png" alt="Another polygraph record. + It is very similar to the previous example, except that the + waves in the middle line shrink more noticeably at the + one-third point, and take longer to return to their previous + size. Likewise, the dip in the bottom line is deeper and + wider."> + <figcaption class="label">Record of the reaction when Trant said: + “A prisoner in the Elizabethan Age!”</figcaption> + </figure> + <figure> + <img src="images/figure5-4.png" alt="Another polygraph record. + In this one the rhythm in the waves of the middle line are + disrupted at the one-third point, and do not entirely return + to normal. Likewise, the dip in the bottom line is deeper yet, + and only just climbs back to its original height."> + <figcaption class="label">Record made when Welter saw the + photograph of a heap of coffee sacks.</figcaption> + </figure> + <figure> + <img src="images/figure5-5.png" alt="Another polygraph record. + The waves of the middle line contract severely at the + one-third point, and remain contracted. Likewise, the bottom + line dips precipitously, and only returns to half of its + original height."> + <figcaption class="label">Record made when the spring was shown to + Welter.</figcaption> + </figure> + <figcaption class="label">In each of these diagrams the single break + in the upper line shows the point at which an object or words + expected to arouse emotion are presented. The wavy line just + below it is the record of the subject’s breathing. The irregular + line at the bottom indicates the alteration of the size of the + subject’s finger as the blood supply increases or + decreases.</figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>“Amazing!” said Dr. Annerly. “Mr. Welter, I +am curious to know what associations you have with +that photograph and bent wire, the sight of which +aroused in you such strong emotion.”</p> + +<p>By immense self-control, the president of the +American Commodities Company met his eyes fairly. +“None,” he answered.</p> + +<p>“Impossible! No psychologist, knowing how this +record was taken, could look at it without feeling +absolutely certain that the photograph and spring caused +in you such excessive emotion that I am tempted to +give it, without further words, the name of ‘intense +fright!’ But if we have inadvertently surprised a +secret, we have no desire to pry into it further. Is it +not so, Mr. Trant?”</p> + +<p>At the name President Welter whirled suddenly. +“Trant! Is your name Trant?” he demanded. +“Well, I’ve heard of you.” His eyes hardened. “A +man like you goes just so far, and then—somebody +stops him!”</p> + +<p>“As they stopped Landers?” Trant inquired.</p> + +<p>“Come, we’ve seen enough, I guess,” said President +Welter, including for one instant in his now frankly +menacing gaze both Trant and Professor Schmalz; he +turned to the door, closely followed by his companions. +And a moment later the quick explosions of his +automobile were heard. At the sound, Trant seized +suddenly a large envelope, dropped into it the photograph +and wire he had just used, sealed, signed, and dated it, +signed and dated also the record from the instruments, +and hurriedly handed all to Dr. Annerly.</p> + +<p>“Doctor, I trust this to you,” he cried, excitedly. +“It will be best to have them attested by all three of +you. If possible get the record photograph to-night, +and distribute the photographs in safe places. Above +all, do not let the record itself out of your hands until +I come for it. It is important—extremely +important! As for me, I have not a moment to lose!”</p> + +<hr> + +<p>The young psychologist sped down the stone steps +of the laboratory three at a time, ran at top speed to +the nearest street corner, turned it and leaped into a +waiting automobile. “The American Commodities +Company’s docks in Brooklyn,” he shouted, “and never +mind the speed limits!”</p> + +<p>Rentland and the chauffeur, awaiting him in the +machine, galvanized at his coming.</p> + +<p>“Hot work?” the customs’s agent asked.</p> + +<p>“It may be very hot; but we have the start of him,” +Trant replied as the car shot ahead. “Welter himself +is coming to the docks to-night, I think, by the look +of him! He left just before me, but must drop his +friends first. He suspects, now, that we know; but +he cannot be aware that we know that they are +unloading to-night. He probably counts on our waiting +to catch them at the cheating to-morrow morning. So +he’s going over to-night himself, if I size him up right, +to order it stopped and remove all traces before we +can prove anything. Is Dickey waiting?”</p> + +<p>“When you give the word he is to take us in and +catch them at it. If Welter himself comes, as you +think, it will not change the plan?” Rentland replied.</p> + +<p>“Not at all,” said Trant, “for I have him already. +He will deny everything, of course, but it’s too late +now!”</p> + +<p>The big car, with unchecked speed, swung down +Broadway, slowed after a twenty-minutes’ run to cross +the Brooklyn Bridge, and, turning to the left, plunged +once more at high speed into the narrower and less +well-kept thoroughfares of the Brooklyn water front. +Two minutes later it overtook a little electric coupé, +bobbing excitedly down the sloping street. As they +passed it, Trant caught sight of the illuminated +number hanging at its rear, and shouted suddenly to the +chauffeur, who brought the big motor to a stop a +hundred feet beyond. The psychologist, leaping down, +ran into the road before the little car.</p> + +<p>“Miss Rowan,” he cried to its single occupant, as it +came to a stop. “Why are you coming over here at +this time to-night?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it’s you, Mr. Trant!” She opened the door, +showing relief in the recognition. “Oh, I’m so +worried. I’m on my way to see father; for a telegram +just came to him from Boston; mother opened it, and +told me to take it to him at once, as it was most +important. She wouldn’t tell me what it was about, but +it excited her a great deal. Oh, I’m so afraid it must +be about Will and that was why she wouldn’t tell me.”</p> + +<p>“From Boston?” Trant pressed quickly. Having +her confidence, the girl nervously read the telegram +aloud by the light of the coupé’s side lamps. It read:</p> + +<blockquote class="telegram"> + + <p>Police have taken your friend out of our hands; look + out for trouble. Wilson.</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>“Who is Wilson?” Trant demanded.</p> + +<p>“I am not sure it is the man, but the captain of the +<i>Elizabethan Age</i> is a friend of father’s named +Wilson!”</p> + +<p>“I can’t help you then, after all,” said Trant, +springing back to his powerful car. He whispered a word +to the chauffeur which sent it driving ahead through +the drifts at double its former speed, leaving the little +electric coupé far behind. Ten minutes later Rentland +stopped the motor a block short of a great lighted +doorway which suddenly showed in a length of dark, +lowering buildings which lay beside the American +Commodities Company’s Brooklyn docks.</p> + +<p>“Now,” the secret agent volunteered, “it is up to me +to find Dickey’s ladder!”</p> + +<p>He guided Trant down a narrow, dark court which +brought them face to face with a blank wall; against +this wall a light ladder had been recently placed. +Ascending it, they came into the dock inclosure. +Descending again by a dozen rickety, disused steps, they +reached a darker, covered teamway and hurried along +it to the docks. Just short of the end of the open dock +houses, where a string of arc lamps threw their white +and flickering light upon the huge, black side of a +moored steamer, Rentland turned into a little shed, and +the two came suddenly upon Customs Officer Dickey.</p> + +<p>“This one next to us,” the little man whispered, +eagerly, to Trant, as he grasped his hand, “is the scale +house where whatever is being done is done—No. 3.”</p> + +<p>In and out of the yawning gangways of the steamer +before them struggling lines of sweating men were +wheeling trucks loaded with bales of tobacco. Trant +looked first to the left, where the bales disappeared into +the tobacco warehouse; then to the right, where, close +at hand, each truck-load stopped momentarily on a scale +platform in front of the low shed which bore the +number Dickey indicated in a large white figure.</p> + +<p>“Who’s that?” asked Trant, as a small figure, +hardly five feet tall, cadaverous, beetle-browed, with +cold, malignant, red-lidded eyes passed directly under +the arc light nearest them.</p> + +<p>“Rowan, the dock superintendent!” Dickey +whispered.</p> + +<p>“I knew he was small,” Trant returned with surprise, +“but I thought surely he must have some fist to +be the terror of these dock laborers.”</p> + +<p>“Wait!” Rentland, behind them, motioned.</p> + +<p>A bloated, menacing figure had suddenly swung clear +of the group of dock laborers—a roustabout, goaded +to desperation, with a fist raised against his puny +superior. But before the blow had fallen another fist, +huge and black, struck the man over Rowan’s shoulder +with a hammer. He fell, and the dock superintendent +passed on without a backward glance, the giant negro +who had struck the blow following in his footsteps like +a dog.</p> + +<p>“The black,” Rentland explained, “is Rowan’s +bodyguard. He needs him.”</p> + +<p>“I see,” Trant replied. “And for Miss Rowan’s +sake I am glad it was that way,” he added, +enigmatically.</p> + +<p>Dickey had quietly opened a door on the opposite +side of the shed; the three slipped quickly through it +and stepped unobserved around the corner of the +coffee warehouse to a long, dark, and narrow space. On +one side of them was the rear wall of scale house No. +3, and on the other the engine room where Landers’s +body had been found. The single window in the rear +of No. 3 scale house had been whitewashed to prevent +anyone from looking in from that side; but in spots +the whitewash had fallen off in flakes. Trant put his +eye to one of these clear spots in the glass and looked in.</p> + +<p>The scale table, supported on heavy posts, extended +across almost the whole front of the house, behind a +low, wide window, which permitted those seated at the +table to see all that occurred on the docks. Toward +the right end of the table sat the Government weigher; +toward the left end, and separated from him by +almost the whole length of the table, sat the company +checker. They were the only persons in the scale +house. Trant, after his first rapid survey of the scene, +fixed his eye upon the man who had taken the place +which Landers had held for three years, and Morse for +a few days afterwards—the company checker. A +truck-load of tobacco bales was wheeled on to the +scales in front of the house.</p> + +<p>“Watch his left knee,” Trant whispered quickly +into Dickey’s ear at the pane beside him, as the +balance was being made upon the beam before them. As +he spoke, the Government weigher adjusted the balance +and they saw the left leg of the company checker +pressed hard against the post which protected the scale +rod at his end. Both men in the scale house then read +aloud the weight and each entered it in the book on the +table in front of him. A second truckful was wheeled +on to the scale; and again, just as the Government +weigher fixed his balances, the company checker, so +inconspicuously as to make the act undiscoverable by +anyone not looking for that precise move, repeated the +operation. With the next truck they saw it again. +The psychologist turned to the others. Rentland, too, +had been watching through the pane and nodded his +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>Immediately Trant dashed open the door of the scale +house, and threw himself bodily upon the checker. +The man resisted; they struggled. While the +customs men protected him, Trant, wrenching something +from the post beside the checker’s left knee, +rose with a cry of triumph. Then the psychologist, +warned by a cry from Rentland, leaped quickly to +one side to avoid a blow from the giant negro. His +quickness saved him; still the blow, glancing along his +cheek, hurled him from his feet. He rose immediately, +blood flowing from a superficial cut upon his +forehead where it had struck the scale-house wall. He +saw Rentland covering the negro with a revolver, and +the two other customs men arresting, at pistol point, +the malignant little dock superintendent, the checker, +and the others who had crowded into the scale house.</p> + +<p>“You see!” Trant exhibited to the customs officers +a bit of bent wire, wound with string, precisely +like that the girl had given him that morning and he +had used in his test of Welter the hour before. “It +was almost exactly as we knew it must be! This +spring was stuck through a hole in the protecting post +so that it prevented the balance beam from rising +properly when bales were put on the platform. A little +pressure just at that point takes many pounds from +each bale weighed. The checker had only to move +his knee, in a way we would never have noticed if we +were not watching for it, to work the scheme by which +they have been cheating for ten years! But the rest +of this affair,” he glanced at the quickly collecting +crowd, “can best be settled in the office.”</p> + +<p>He led the way, the customs men taking their +prisoners at pistol point. As they entered the office, +Rowan first, a girl’s cry and the answering oath of her +father told Trant that the dock superintendent’s +daughter had arrived. But she had been almost overtaken +by another powerful car; for before Trant could speak +with her the outer door of the office opened violently +and President Welter, in an automobile coat and cap, +entered.</p> + +<p>“Ah! Mr. Welter, you got here quickly,” said +Trant, meeting calmly his outraged astonishment at +the scene. “But a little too late.”</p> + +<p>“What is the matter here?” Welter governed his +voice commandingly. “And what has brought you +here, from your phrenology?” he demanded, +contemptuously, of Trant.</p> + +<p>“The hope of catching red-handed, as we have just +caught them, your company checker and your dock +superintendent defrauding the Government,” Trant +returned, “before you could get here to stop them and +remove evidences.”</p> + +<p>“What raving idiocy is this?” Welter replied, still +with excellent moderation. “I came here to sign some +necessary papers for ships clearing, and you—”</p> + +<p>“I say we have caught your men red-handed,” Trant +repeated, “at the methods used, with your certain +knowledge and under your direction, Mr. Welter, to +steal systematically from the United States Government +for—probably the last ten years. We have uncovered +the means by which your company checker at +scale No. 3, which, because of its position, probably +weighs more cargoes than all the other scales together, +has been lessening the apparent weights upon which +you pay duties.”</p> + +<p>“Cheating here under my direction?” Welter now +bellowed indignantly. “What are you talking about? +Rowan, what is he talking about?” he demanded, +boldly, of the dock superintendent; but the cadaverous +little man was unable to brazen it out with him.</p> + +<p>“You need not have looked at your dock superintendent +just then, Mr. Welter, to see if he would stand +the racket when the trouble comes, for which you have +been paying him enough on the side to keep him in +electric motors and marble statuettes. And you cannot +try now to disown this crime with the regular +president-of-corporation excuse, Mr. Welter, that you never +knew of it, that it was all done without your knowledge +by a subordinate to make a showing in his department; +and do not expect, either, to escape so easily your +certain complicity in the murder of Landers, to prevent +him from exposing your scheme and—since even the +American Commodities Company scarcely dared to +have two ‘accidental deaths’ of checkers in the same +month—the shanghaiing of Morse later.”</p> + +<p>“My complicity in the death of Landers and the +disappearance of Morse?” Welter roared.</p> + +<p>“I said the murder of Landers,” Trant corrected. +“For when Rentland and Dickey tell to-morrow +before the grand jury how Landers was about to +disclose to the Customs Department the secret of the +cheating in weights; how he was made afraid by +Rowan, and later was about to tell anyway and was +prevented only by a most sudden death, I think murder +will be the word brought in the indictment. And I +said shanghaiing of Morse, Mr. Welter. When we +remembered this morning that Morse had disappeared +the night the <i>Elizabethan Age</i> left your docks and you +and Rowan were so intensely disgusted at its having +had to put into Boston this morning instead of going +on straight to Sumatra, we did not have to wait for +the chance information this evening that Captain Wilson +is a friend of Rowan’s to deduce that the missing +checker was put aboard, as confirmed by the Boston +harbor police this afternoon, who searched the ship +under our instructions.” Trant paused a moment; +again fixed the now trembling Welter with his eye, +and continued: “I charge your certain complicity in +these crimes, along with your certain part in the +customs frauds,” the psychologist repeated. +“Undoubtedly, it was Rowan who put Morse out of the way +upon the <i>Elizabethan Age</i>. Nevertheless, you knew +that he was a prisoner upon that ship, a fact which +was written down in indelible black and white by my +tests of you at the Stuyvesant Institute two hours ago, +when I merely mentioned to you ‘a prisoner in the +<i>Elizabethan Age</i>.’</p> + +<p>“I do not charge that you, personally, were the one +who murdered Landers; or even that Rowan himself +did; whether his negro did, as I suspect, is a matter +now for the courts to decide upon. But that you +undoubtedly were aware that he was not killed accidentally +in the engine room, but was killed the Wednesday +night before and his body hidden under the coffee bags, +as I guessed from the fibers of coffee sacking on his +clothes, was also registered as mercilessly by the +psychological machines when I showed you merely the +picture of a pile of coffee sacks.</p> + +<p>“And last, Mr. Welter, you deny knowledge of the +cheating which has been going on, and was at the +bottom of the other crimes. Well, Welter,” the +psychologist took from his pocket the bent, twine-wound +wire, “here is the ‘innocent’ little thing which was +the third means of causing you to register upon the +machines such extreme and inexplicable emotion; or +rather, Mr. Welter, it is the companion piece to that, +for this is not the one I showed you, the one given +to Morse to use, which, however, he refused to make +use of; but it is the very wire I took to-night from the +hole in the post where it bore against the balance beam +to cheat the Government. When this is made public +to-morrow, and with it is made public, too, and +attested by the scientific men who witnessed them, the +diagram and explanation of the tests of you two hours +ago, do you think that you can deny longer that this +was all with your knowledge and direction?”</p> + +<p>The big, bull neck of the president swelled, and his +hands clenched and reclenched as he stared with +gleaming eyes into the face of the young man who thus +challenged him.</p> + +<p>“You are thinking now, I suppose, Mr. Welter,” +Trant replied to his glare, “that such evidence as that +directly against you cannot be got before a court. I +am not so sure of that. But at least it can go before +the public to-morrow morning in the papers, attested +by the signatures of the scientific men who witnessed +the test. It has been photographed by this time, and +the photographic copies are distributed in safe places, +to be produced with the original on the day when the +Government brings criminal proceedings against you. +If I had it here I would show you how complete, how +merciless, is the evidence that you knew what was +being done. I would show you how at the point +marked 1 on the record your pulse and breathing quickened +with alarm under my suggestion; how at the point +marked 2 your anxiety and fear increased; and how +at 3, when the spring by which this cheating had been +carried out was before your eyes, you betrayed +yourself uncontrollably, unmistakably. How the volume +of blood in your second finger suddenly diminished, as +the current was thrown back upon your heart; how +your pulse throbbed with terror; how, though unmoved +to outward appearance, you caught your breath, and +your laboring lungs struggled under the dread that +your wrongdoing was discovered and you would be +branded—as I trust you will now be branded, Mr. +Welter, when the evidence in this case and the +testimony of those who witnessed my test are produced +before a jury—a deliberate and scheming thief!”</p> + +<p>“— — you!” The three words escaped from +Welter’s puffed lips. He put out his arm to push aside +the customs officer standing between him and the door. +Dickey resisted.</p> + +<p>“Let him go if he wants to!” Trant called to the +officer. “He can neither escape nor hide. His money +holds him under bond!”</p> + +<p>The officer stepped aside, and Welter, without another +word, went into the hall. But when his face was +no longer visible to Trant, the hanging pouches under +his eyes grew leaden gray, his fat lips fell apart loosely, +his step shuffled; his mask had fallen!</p> + +<p>“Besides, we need all the men we have, I think,” +said Trant, turning back to the prisoners, “to get these +to a safe place. Miss Rowan,” he turned then and +put out his hand to steady the terrified and weeping +girl, “I warned you that you had probably better not +come here to-night. But since you have come and +have had pain because of your stepfather’s wrong-doings, +I am glad to be able to give you the additional +assurance, beyond the fact, which you have heard, that +your fiancé was not murdered, but merely put away on +board the <i>Elizabethan Age</i>; that he is safe and sound, +except for a few bruises, and, moreover, we expect +him here any moment now. The police were bringing +him down from Boston on the train which arrives at +ten.”</p> + +<p>He went to the window and watched an instant, as +Dickey and Rentland, having telephoned for a patrol, +were waiting with their prisoners. Before the patrol +wagon appeared, he saw the bobbing lanterns of a +lurching cab that turned a corner a block away. As +it stopped at the entrance, a police officer in plain +clothes leaped out and helped after him a young man +wrapped in an overcoat, with one arm in a sling, pale, +and with bandaged head. The girl uttered a cry, and +sped through the doorway. For a moment the +psychologist stood watching the greeting of the lovers. +He turned back then to the sullen prisoners.</p> + +<p>“But it’s some advance, isn’t it, Rentland,” he +asked, “not to have to try such poor devils alone; +but, at last, with the man who makes the millions and +pays them the pennies—the man higher up?”</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter" id="ch06"> + +<h2>VI. <br> The Chalchihuitl Stone</h2> + +<p>Tramp—tramp—tramp—tramp—tramp! +For three nights and two days the footsteps had +echoed through the great house almost ceaselessly.</p> + +<p>The white-haired woman leaning on a cane, pausing +again in the upper hall to listen to them, started, +impulsively, for the tenth time that morning toward +her son’s door; but, recognizing once more her utter +inability to counsel or to comfort, she wiped her +tear-filled eyelids and limped painfully back to her own +room. The aged negress, again passing the door, +pressed convulsively together her bony hands, and +sobbed pityingly; she had been the childhood nurse +of this man whose footsteps had so echoed for hours +as he paced bedroom, library, hall, museum, study—most +frequently of all the little study—in his grief +and turmoil of spirit.</p> + +<p>Tramp—tramp—tramp—tramp!</p> + +<p>She shuffled swiftly down the stairs to the big, +luxurious morning room on the floor below, where +a dark-eyed girl crouched on the couch listening to +his footsteps beating overhead, and listening so +strangely, without a sign of the grief of the mother +or even the negro nurse, that she seemed rather +studying her own absence of feeling with perplexity and +doubt.</p> + +<p>Tramp—tramp—tramp—tramp!</p> + +<p>“Ain’ yo’ sorry for him, Miss Iris?” the negress +said.</p> + +<p>“Why, Ulame, I—I—” the girl seemed struggling +to call up an emotion she did not feel. “I know +I ought to feel sorry for him.”</p> + +<p>“An’ the papers? Ain’ yo’ sorry, honey, dem +papers is gone—buhned up; dem papers he thought so +much of—all buhned by somebody?”</p> + +<p>“The papers?—the papers, Ulame?” the girl +exclaimed in bewilderment at herself. “Oh—oh, I +know it must be terrible to him that they are gone; +but I—I can’t feel so sorry about them!”</p> + +<p>“Yo’ can’t?” The negress stiffened with anger. +“An’ he tol’ me, too, this mo’nin, now you won’t +marry him next Thursday lak’ yo’ promised—since—since +yo’ foun’ dat little green stone! Why is +dat—since yo’ foun’ dat little green stone?”</p> + +<p>The sincere bewilderment deepened in the girl’s +face. “I don’t know why, Ulame—I tell you truly,” +she cried, miserably, “I don’t know any reason why +that stone—that stone should change me so! Oh, +I can’t understand it myself; but I know it is so. +Ever since I’ve seen that stone I’ve known it would +be wrong to marry him. But I don’t know why!”</p> + +<p>“Den I do!” The old negress’s eyes blazed wildly. +“It’s a’caze yo’ <em>is</em> voodoo! Yo <em>is</em> voodoo! An’ it’s +all my faul’, Oh yas—yas it is!” She rocked. +“For yo’se had the ma’k ever since yo’se been a chile; +the ma’k of the debbil’s claw! But I nebber tole +Marse Richard till too late. But hit’s so! Hit’s so! +The debbil’s ma’k is on yo’ left shoulder, and the +green stone is de cha’m dat is come to make yo’ break +Marse Richard’s heart!”</p> + +<p>“Ulame! Oh! Oh!” the girl cried.</p> + +<p>“Ulame! Ulame!” a deeper, firm and controlled +voice checked them both as the man, whose steps had +sounded overhead the moment before, stood in the +doorway.</p> + +<p>He was a strikingly well-born, good-looking man +of thirty-six, strongly set up, muscular, with the body +of an athlete surmounted by the broad-browed head +of a student. But his skin, indescribably bronzed by +the tropic sun during many expeditions to Central +America, showed now an underhue of sodden gray; +and the thin, red veins which shot his keen, blue eyes, +the tenseness of his well-shaped mouth, the pulse visibly +beating in his temples, the slight trembling of the +usually firm hands, all gave plain evidence of some +active grief and long-continued strain; but at the same +time bore witness to the self-control which held his +emotion in check.</p> + +<p>The negress, quieted and rebuked by his words, +shuffled out as he entered; and the girl drew herself +up quickly to a sitting posture, rearranging her hair +with deft pats.</p> + +<p>“You must not mind Ulame!” He crossed to her +and held her hand steadyingly for an instant. “Or +think that I shall ask you anything more except—you +have not altered your decision, Iris?” he asked, +gently.</p> + +<p>The girl shook her head.</p> + +<p>“Then I will not even ask that again, my—Iris,” +he caught himself. “If you will give me the proper +form for recalling our wedding invitations, I will send +it at once to Chicago. As to the gifts that have been +already received—will you be good enough also to +look up the convention under these circumstances?” +He caught his breath. “I thought I heard the door +bell a moment ago, Iris. Was there some one for +me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Anna went to the door.” The girl motioned +to a maid who for five minutes had been hovering +about the hall, afraid to go to him with the card she +held upon a silver tray.</p> + +<p>“Ah! I was expecting him.” He took the card. +“Where is he? In the library?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Dr. Pierce.”</p> + +<p>He crushed the card in his hand, touched tenderly +with his finger tips Iris’s pale cheek, and with the +same regular step crossed the hall to the library. A +compact figure rose energetically at his coming.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Trant?” asked Pierce, carefully closing the +door behind him and measuring with forced collectedness +his visitor, who seemed slightly surprised. “I +need not apologize to you for my note asking you to +come to me here in Lake Forest this morning. I +understand that with you it is a matter of business. But +I thank you for your promptness. I have heard of +you from a number of sources as a psychologist who +has applied laboratory methods to the solution of—of +mysteries—of crimes; not as a police detective, Mr. +Trant, but as a—a—”</p> + +<p>“Consultant,” the psychologist suggested.</p> + +<p>“Yes; a consultant. And I badly need a consultant, +Mr. Trant.” Pierce dropped into the nearest +chair. “You must pardon me. I am not quite +myself this morning. An event—or, rather events—occurred +here last Wednesday afternoon which, though +I have endeavored to keep my feeling under control, +have affected me perhaps even more than I myself +was aware; for I noticed your surprise at sight of me, +which can only have been occasioned by some +strangeness in my appearance which these events have +caused.”</p> + +<p>“I was surprised,” the psychologist admitted, “but +only because I expected to see an older man. When +I received your note last evening, Dr. Pierce, I, of +course, made some inquiries in regard to you. I +found you spoken of as one of the greatest living +authorities on Central American antiquities, especially +the hieroglyphic writing on the Maya ruins in +Yucatan; and as the expeditions connected with your +name seemed to cover a period of nearly sixty years, +I expected to find you a man of at least eighty.”</p> + +<p>“You have confused me with my father, who died +in Izabal, Guatemala, in 1895. Our names and our +line of work being the same, our reputations are often +confused, especially as he never published the results +of his work, but left that for me to do. I have not +proved a worthy trustee of that bequest, Mr. Trant!” +Pierce added, bitterly. He arose in agitation, and +began again his mechanical pacing to and fro.</p> + +<p>“The events of Wednesday had to do with this +trust left you by your father?” the psychologist asked.</p> + +<p>“They have destroyed, obliterated, blotted out that +trust,” Pierce replied. “All the fruits of my father’s +life work and my own, too, absolutely without +purpose, meaning, excuse or explanation of any sort! +And more than that—and this is the reason I have +asked you to advise me, Mr. Trant, instead of putting +the matter into the hands of the police—with even +less apparent reason and without her being able to +give an explanation of any sort, the events of last +Wednesday have had such an effect upon my ward, +Iris, to whom I was to be married next Thursday, that +she is no longer able to think of marrying me. She +clearly loves me no longer, though previous to +Wednesday no one who knew us could have the slightest +question of her affection for me; and indeed, though +previously she had been the very spirit and soul of +my work, now she seems no longer to care for its +continuance in any way, or to be even sorry for the +disaster to it.”</p> + +<p>He paused in painful agitation. “I must ask your +pardon once more,” he apologized. “Before you can +comprehend any of this I must explain to you how +it happened. My father began his study of the Maya +hieroglyphics as long ago as 1851. He had had as a +young man a very dear friend named James Clarke, +who in 1848 took part in an expedition to Chiapas. +On this expedition Clarke became separated from his +companions, failed to rejoin them, and was never +heard from again. It was in search of him that my +father in 1850 first went to Central America; and +failing to find Clarke, who was probably dead, he +returned with a considerable collection of the Maya +hieroglyphs, which had strongly excited his interest. +Between 1851 and his death my father made no less +than twelve different expeditions to Central America +in search of more hieroglyphs; but in that whole +time he did not publish more than a half dozen short +articles regarding his discoveries, reserving all for a +book which he intended to be a monument to his +labors. His passion for perfection prevented him +from ever completing that book, and, on his deathbed, +he intrusted its completion and publication to +me. Two years ago I began preparing it for the +stenographer, and last week I had the satisfaction of +feeling that my work was nearly finished. The +material consisted of a huge mass of papers. They +contained chapters written by my father which I am +incapable of rewriting; tracings and photographs of the +inscriptions which can be duplicated only by years of +labor; original documents which are irreplaceable; +notes of which I have no other copies. They represented, +as you yourself have just said, almost sixty +years of continuous labor. Last Wednesday afternoon, +while I was absent, the whole mass of these +papers was taken from the cabinet where I kept them, +and burned—or if not burned, they have completely +vanished.”</p> + +<p>He stopped short in his walk, turned on Trant a +face which had grown suddenly livid, and stretched +out his hands.</p> + +<p>“They were destroyed, Trant—destroyed! Mysteriously, +inexplicably, purposelessly!” his helpless +indignation burst from his constraint. “The destruction +of papers such as these could not possibly have +benefited anyone. They were without value or interest +except to scientists; and as to envious or malicious +enemies, I have not one, man or woman—least of all +a woman!”</p> + +<p>“ ‘Least of all a woman?’ ” Trant repeated quickly. +“Do you mean by that that you have reason to believe +a woman did it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; a woman! They all heard her! But—I +will tell you everything I can. Last Wednesday +afternoon, as I said, I was in Chicago. The two maids +who look after the front part of the house were also +out; they are sisters and had gone to the funeral of a +brother.”</p> + +<p>“Leaving what others in the house?” Trant interrupted +the rapid current of his speech with a quick +gesture.</p> + +<p>“My mother, who has hip trouble and cannot go +up- or downstairs without help; my ward, Iris Pierce, +who had gone to her room to take a nap and was so +sound asleep upon her bed that when they went for +her twenty minutes later she was aroused with +difficulty; my old colored nurse, Ulame, whom you must +have seen pass through here a moment ago; and the +cook, who was in the back part of the house. The +gardener, who was the only other person anywhere +about the place, had been busy in the conservatory, +but about a quarter to three went to sweep a light +snowfall from the walks. Fifteen minutes later my +mother in her bedroom in the north wing heard the +door bell; but no one went to the door.”</p> + +<p>“Why was that?”</p> + +<p>“Besides my mother, who was helpless, and Iris +who was in her room, only the cook and Ulame, as +I have just said, were in the house, and each of them, +expecting the other to answer, waited for a second +ring. It is certain that neither went to the door.”</p> + +<p>“Then the bell did not ring again?”</p> + +<p>“No; it rang only once. Yet almost immediately +after the ringing the woman was inside the house; +for my mother heard her voice distinctly and—”</p> + +<p>“A moment, please!” Trant stopped him. “In +case the person was not admitted at the front door, +which I assume was locked, was there any other +possibility?”</p> + +<p>“One other. The door was locked; but, the day +before, the catch of one of the French windows opening +upon the porch had been bent so that it fastened +insecurely. The woman could easily have entered +that way.”</p> + +<p>“But the fact of the catch would not be evident +from outside—it would be known only to some one +familiar with the premises?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Now the voice your mother heard—it was a +strange voice?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; a very shrill, excited voice of a child or a +woman—she could not be sure which—but entirely +strange to her.”</p> + +<p>“Shrill and excited, as if arguing with some one +else?”</p> + +<p>“No; that was one remarkable part of it; she +seemed rather talking to herself. Besides there was +no other voice.”</p> + +<p>“But in spite of its excited character, your mother +could be sure it was the voice of a stranger?” Trant +pressed with greater precision.</p> + +<p>“Yes. My mother has been confined to her room +so much that her ability to tell a person’s identity by +the sound of the voice or footsteps has been immensely +developed. There could be no better evidence than +hers that this was a strange voice and that it was in +the south wing. She thought at first that it was the +voice of a frightened child. Two or three loud +screams were uttered by the same voice, and were +repeated at intervals during all that followed. There +was noise of thumping or pounding, which I believe +to have been occasioned in opening the study door. +Then, after a brief interval, came the noise of breaking +glass, and, at the end of another short interval, +a smell of burning.”</p> + +<p>“The screams continued?”</p> + +<p>“At intervals, as I have said. My mother, when +the screams first reached her, hobbled to the electric +bell which communicates from her room to the servants’ +quarters and rang it excitedly. But it was several +minutes before her ringing brought the cook up +the back stairs.”</p> + +<p>“But the screams were still going on?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Then they were joined in the upper hall +by Ulame.”</p> + +<p>“They still heard screams?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; the three women crouched at the head of +the stairs listening to them. Then Ulame ran to the +rear window and called the gardener, who had almost +finished sweeping the rear walks; and the cook, +crossing the hall to the second floor of the south wing, +aroused Iris, whom, as I said, she found so soundly +asleep that she was awakened with difficulty. My +mother and I have rooms in the north wing, Iris and +Ulame in the south. Iris had heard nothing of the +disturbance, and was amazed at their account of it. +They were joined by the gardener, and the four who +were able descended to the first floor together. The +cook ran immediately to the front door, which, she +found, remained closed and locked with its spring +lock. The others went straight on into the south +wing, where she at once followed them. They found +the museum filled with an acrid haze of smoke, and +the door of the study closed. They could still hear +through the closed door the footsteps and movements +of the woman in the study.”</p> + +<p>“But no more screams?” asked Trant.</p> + +<p>“No, only footsteps, which were plainly audible +to all four. You can imagine, Trant, that with three +excited women and the gardener, who is not a courageous +man, several moments were wasted in listening +to these sounds and in discussion. Then the gardener +pushed open the door. The glass front of the cabinet +in which my papers were kept had been broken, and +a charred mass, still smoking, in the center of the +composition floor of the study was all that we could +find of the papers which represented my father’s and +my own life work, Mr. Trant. The woman whose +footsteps only the instant before had been heard in +the study by Iris and the gardener besides the others, +had completely disappeared, in spite of the fact that +there was no possible place for a woman, or even a +child, to conceal herself in the study, or to leave it +except by the door which the others entered!”</p> + +<p>“And they found no other marks or indications +of the person’s presence except those you have +mentioned?”</p> + +<p>“No, Mr. Trant, they found—at that time—absolutely +none,” Pierce replied, slowly. “But when I +returned that night and myself was able to go over +the room carefully with Iris, I found—this, Mr. +Trant,” he thrust a hand into his pocket, and extended +it with a solitary little egg-shaped stone gleaming +upon his palm—“this, Mr. Trant,” he repeated, +staring at the little, blazing crystal egg as though +fascinated, “the mere sight of which cast such an +extraordinary ‘spell’ upon my ward, Iris, that, after +these two days, trying to puzzle it out sanely myself, +I was unable to bear the strain of it a moment longer, +and wrote you as I did last night, in the hope that +you—if anyone—might be able to advise me.”</p> + +<p>“So this is the little green stone!” Trant took it +carefully from his client’s palm and examined it. +“The little green stone of which the negress was +speaking to Miss Iris when you came in! You +remember the door was open!”</p> + +<p>“Yes; that is the little green stone!” Pierce cried. +“The chalchihuitl stone; the green turquoise of Mexico. +The first sight of it struck Iris dumb and dull-eyed +before me and started this strange, this baffling, +inexplicable apathy toward me! Tell me, how can +this be?”</p> + +<p>“You would hardly have called even me in, I presume,” +Trant questioned quietly, “if you thought it +possible that this stone,” he handed it back, “told her +who was in the room and that it was a woman who +could come between you and your ward?”</p> + +<p>“Scarcely, Mr. Trant!” Pierce flushed. “You can +dismiss that absolutely. I told you a moment ago, +when trying to think who could have come to ruin +my work, that I have no enemy—least of all a woman +enemy. Nor have I a single woman intimate, even a +friend, whom Iris could possibly think of in that +way.”</p> + +<p>“Will you take me, then, to the rooms where these +things happened?” Trant rose abruptly.</p> + +<p>“This is the way the woman must have come,” +Pierce indicated as he pointed Trant into the hall and +let him see the arrangement of the house before he +led him on.</p> + +<p>The young psychologist, from his exterior view +of the place, had already gained some idea of the +interior arrangement; but as he followed Pierce from +the library down the main hall, he was impressed anew +by the individuality of the rambling structure. The +main body of the house, he saw, had evidently been +built some forty or fifty years ago, before Lake Forest +had become the most fashionable and wealthy suburb +to the north of Chicago; but the wings had been added +later, one apparently to keep pace with the coming of +the more pretentious country homes about it, the other +more particularly to provide place for exhibiting the +owner’s immense collection of Central American +curiosities.</p> + +<p>So the wide entrance hall, running half-way through +the house, divided at the center into the hallways +of the two wings. At the entrance to the north wing, +the main stairs sprang upward in the graceful sweep +of southern Colonial architecture; while, opposite, the +hall of the south wing was blocked part way down +by a heavy wall with but one flat-topped opening.</p> + +<p>“A fire wall, Mr. Trant, and automatic closing fire +doors,” Pierce explained, as they passed through them. +“This portion of the south wing, which we call the +museum wing, is a late addition, absolutely fireproof.”</p> + +<p>“It was from the top of the main stairs, if I have +understood you correctly,” Trant glanced back as he +passed through the doorway, “that the women heard +the screams. But this stair,” he pointed to a narrow +flight of steps which wound upward from a little +anteroom beyond the flat-topped opening, “this is +certainly not what you called the back stairs. Where +does this lead?”</p> + +<p>“To the second floor of the museum wing, Mr. +Trant.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! Where Miss Pierce, and,” he paused reflectively, +“the colored nurse have their bedrooms.”</p> + +<p>“Exactly.”</p> + +<p>They crossed the anteroom and entered the museum. +A ceiling higher in the museum than in any other part +of the house gave space for high, leaded, clear-glass +windows. Under them, ranged on pedestals or fastened +to the wall were original carvings or plaster +casts of the grotesque gods of the Maya mythology; +death’s-heads symbolic of their cruel religion, and +cabinets of stone and wooden implements and earthen +vessels, though by far the greater number of the +specimens were reproductions of hieroglyphic inscriptions, +each separate glyph forming a whimsical square +cartouche.</p> + +<p>But the quick glance of the psychologist passed +all these almost without noting, and centered itself +upon an object in the middle of the room. On a low +pedestal stood one of the familiar Central American +stones of sacrifice, with grooved channels to carry +away the blood, and rounded top designed to bend +backward the body of the human victim while the +priest, with one quick cut, slew him; and before it, +staring at this stone, as though no continuance of +familiarity could make her unaffected by it, stood the +slender, graceful, dark-haired, dark-skinned girl of +whom the psychologist had caught just a glimpse +through the door of the morning room when he +entered.</p> + +<p>“My ward, Miss Pierce, Mr. Trant,” Pierce introduced +them as she turned. “Mr. Trant is here to +make an investigation into the loss of my papers, +Iris.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” said the girl, without interest, “then I’ll +not interrupt you. I was only looking for Ulame. +Mr. Trant,” she smiled brightly at the psychologist, +“don’t you think this room is beautiful in the +morning sunlight?”</p> + +<p>“Come, Trant,” Pierce passed his hand across his +forehead, as he gazed at the girl’s passionless face, +“the study is at the other end of the museum.” But +the psychologist, with his gray eyes narrowing with +interest, his red hair rumpled by an energetic gesture, +stood an instant observing her; and she flushed deeply.</p> + +<p>“I know why it is you look at me in that way, +Mr. Trant,” she said, simply. “I know, of course, +that a woman has burned Richard’s papers, for I +saw the ashes; besides I myself looked for the papers +afterwards and could not find them. You are thinking +that I believe there is something between Richard +and the woman who took this revenge because we +were going to be married; but it is not so—I know +Richard has never cared for any other woman than +myself. There is something I do not understand. +Why, loving Richard as I did, did I not care at all +about the papers? Why, since I saw that little green +stone, am I indifferent whether he loves me in that +way or not? Why do I feel now that I cannot marry +him? Has the stone bewitched me—the stone, the +stone, Mr. Trant! It seems crazy to think such a +thing, though I know no other reason; and if I said +so, no one—least of all you, Mr. Trant, a man of +science—would believe me!”</p> + +<p>“On the contrary, Miss Pierce, you will find that +I will be the first, not the last, to recognize that the +stone could exercise upon you precisely the influence +you have described!”</p> + +<p>“What is that? What is that?” Pierce +exclaimed in surprise.</p> + +<p>“I would rather see the study, if you please, Dr. +Pierce,” Trant bowed kindly to the girl as he turned +to his client, “before being more explicit.”</p> + +<p>“Very well,” Pierce pushed open the door and +entered, clearly more puzzled by Trant’s reply than +before. The study was long and narrow, running +across the whole end of the south wing; and, like the +museum, had plain burlap-covered walls without curve +or recess of any sort; and like the museum, also, it +was lighted by high, leaded windows above the cases +and shelves. The single door was the one through +which they had entered; and the furniture consisted +only of a desk and table, two chairs, and—along the +walls—cabinets and cases of drawers and pigeon-holes +whose fronts carried labels denoting their +contents. To furnish protection from dust, the cabinets +all were provided with sliding glass doors, locking +with a key. The floor of the study was of the same +fireproof composition as that of the museum, and a +black smudge near its center still showed where the +papers had been burned. The room had neither +fireplace nor closet.</p> + +<p>“There is surely no hiding place for anyone here, +and we must put that out of the question,” the young +psychologist commented when his eye had taken in +these details.</p> + +<p>Then he stepped directly to the cabinet against the +end wall, whose broken glass showed that it was the +one in which the papers had been kept, and laid his +hand upon the sliding door. It slipped backward and +forward in its grooves easily.</p> + +<p>“The door is unlocked,” he said, with slight surprise. +“It certainly was not unlocked at the time the +glass was broken to get at the papers?”</p> + +<p>“No,” Pierce answered, “for before leaving for +Chicago that Wednesday, I carefully locked all the +cabinets and put the key in the drawer of my desk +where it is always kept. But that is not the least +surprising part of this affair, Mr. Trant. For when Iris +and the servants entered the room, the cabinet had +been unlocked and the key lay on the floor in front of +it. I can account for it only by the supposition that +the woman, having first broken the glass in order to +get at the papers, afterwards happened upon the key +and unlocked the cabinet in order to avoid repeatedly +reaching through the jagged edges of the glass.”</p> + +<p>“And did she also break off this brass knob which +was used in sliding the door back and forth, or had +that been done previously?” inquired the +psychologist.</p> + +<p>“It was done at the same time, in attempting to +open the door before the glass was broken, I +suppose.”</p> + +<p>Trant picked up the brass knob, which had been +laid on the top of the cabinet, and examined it +attentively. It had been secured by a thin bolt through +the frame of the door, and in coming loose, the +threads of the bolt, which still remained perfectly +straight, had been stripped off, letting the nut fall +inside the cabinet.</p> + +<p>“This is most peculiar,” he commented—“and +interesting.” Suddenly his eyes flashed comprehension. +“Dr. Pierce, I am afraid your explanation does not +account for the condition of the cabinet.” He swung +about, minutely inspecting the room anew, and with +a sharp and comprehensive glance measuring the +height of the windows.</p> + +<p>“You were certainly correct in saying that no child +or woman could escape from this room in any other +way than by the door, Dr. Pierce,” he exclaimed. +“But could not a man—a man more tall and lithe +and active than either you or I—make his escape +through one of those windows and drop to the walk +below without harm?”</p> + +<p>“A man, Trant? Yes; of course, that is possible,” +Pierce agreed, impatiently. “But why consider the +possibility of a man’s escape, when there was no +question among those who heard the cries that they +came from a woman or a child!”</p> + +<p>“The screams came from a woman,” Trant replied. +“But not necessarily the footsteps that were heard +from the other side of the door. No, Dr. Pierce; the +condition of this room indicates without any question +or doubt that not one, but two persons were present +here when these events occurred—one so familiar +with these premises as to know where the key to the +cabinets was to be found in your desk; the other so +unfamiliar with them as not even to know that the +doors of the cabinets were sliding, not swinging doors, +since it was in attempting to pull the door outward +like a swinging door that the knob was broken off, +as is shown by the condition of the bolt which would +otherwise have been bent. And the person whose +footsteps were heard was a man, for only a man could +have escaped through the window, as that person +unquestionably must have done.”</p> + +<p>“But I do not see how you help things by adding +a man’s presence here to the other,” Pierce protested. +“It simply complicates matters, since it furnishes us +no solution as to how the woman escaped!”</p> + +<p>But the psychologist, without heeding him, dropped +into a chair beside the table, rested his chin upon his +hands, and his eyes grew filmy with the concentration +of thought.</p> + +<p>“She may have been helped through the window by +the man,” he said, finally, “but it is not probable. +We have no proof that the woman was in the study +when the footsteps were heard, for the screams had +stopped; and we have unquestionable proof that this +tight-fitting door was opened <em>after</em> the papers had +been fired, if, as you told me, when Miss Pierce and +the others reached the museum they found it filled +with smoke. Now, Dr. Pierce,” he looked up sharply, +“when you first spoke to me of the loss of these +papers, you said they had been ‘burned or vanished.’ +Why did you say vanished? Had you any reason +for supposing they had not been burned?”</p> + +<p>“No real reason,” Pierce answered after a moment’s +hesitation. “The papers, which I had divided +by subjects into tentative chapters, were put together +with wire clips, each chapter separately, and I found +no wire clips among the ashes. But it was likely the +papers would not burn readily without taking the clips +off. After taking off the clips, she—they,” he +corrected himself—“may very well have carried them +away. It is too improbable to believe that they +brought with them other papers, with the plan of +burning them and giving the appearance of having +destroyed the real ones.”</p> + +<p>“That would certainly be too improbable a +supposition,” Trant agreed, and again became deeply +thoughtful.</p> + +<p>“A remarkable, a startlingly interesting case!” he +raised his eyes to his client’s, but hardly as though +speaking to him. “It presents a problem with which +modern scientific psychology—and that +alone—could possibly be competent to deal.</p> + +<p>“I saw, of course, Dr. Pierce, that I surprised you +when a moment ago I assured your ward that I—as +a psychologist—would be the first to believe that the +chalchihuitl stone could exercise over her the +mysterious influence you all have noted. But I am so +confident of the fact that this stone could influence her, +and I am so sure that its influence is the key to this +case, that I want to ask you what you know about the +chalchihuitl stone; what beliefs, superstitions, or +charms, however fantastic, are popularly connected +with the green turquoise. It is a Mexican stone, you +said; and you, if anyone, must know about it.”</p> + +<p>“As an archæologist, I have long been familiar +with the chalchihuitl stone, of course,” Pierce replied, +gazing at his young adviser with uneasiness and +perplexity, “as the ceremonial marriage stone of the +ancient Aztecs and some still existing tribes of Central +America. By them it is, I know, frequently used +in religious rites, bearing a particularly important part, +for instance, in the wedding ceremony. Though its +exact significance and association is not known, I am +safe in assuring you that it is a stone with which +many savage superstitions and spells are to be +connected.”</p> + +<p>He smiled, deprecatingly; but Trant met his eyes +seriously.</p> + +<p>“Thank you! Can you tell me, then, whether any +peculiarity in your ward has been noted previous to +this, which could not be accounted for?”</p> + +<p>“No; none—ever!” Pierce affirmed confidently, +“though her experience in Central America previous +to her coming under our care must certainly have been +most unusual, and would account for some +peculiarity—if she had any.”</p> + +<p>“In Central America, Dr. Pierce?” Trant repeated +eagerly.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” Pierce hesitated, dubiously; “perhaps I +ought to tell you, Mr. Trant, how Iris came to be a +member of our family. On the last expedition which +my father made to Central America, and on which I +accompanied him as a young man of eighteen, an +Indian near Copan, Honduras, told us of a wonderful +white child whom he had seen living among an +isolated Indian tribe in the mountains. We were +interested, and went out of our way to visit the tribe. +We found there, exactly as he had described, a little +white girl about six years old as near as we could +guess. She spoke the dialect of the Indians, but two +or three English words which the sight of us brought +from her, made us believe that she was of English +birth. My father wanted to take her with us, but +the Indians angrily refused to allow it.</p> + +<p>“The little girl, however, had taken a fancy to me, +and when we were ready to leave she announced her +intention of going along. For some reason which I +was unable to fathom, the Indians regarded her with +a superstitious veneration, and though plainly unwilling +to let her go, they were afraid to interfere with +her wishes. My father intended to adopt her, but he +died before the expedition returned. I brought the +child home with me, and under my mother’s care she +has been educated. The name Iris Pierce was given +her by my mother.”</p> + +<p>“You say the Indians regarded her with veneration?” +Trant exclaimed, with an oddly intent glance +at the sculptured effigies of the monsterlike gods +which stood on the cases all about. “Dr. Pierce, +were you exact in saying a moment ago that your +ward, since she has been in your care, has exhibited +no peculiarities? Was the nurse, Ulame, mistaken +in what I overheard her saying, that Miss Pierce has +on her shoulder the mark,” his voice steadied soberly, +“of the devil’s claw?”</p> + +<p>“Has she the ‘mark of the devil’s claw’?” Pierce +frowned with vexation. “You mean, has she an +anæsthetic spot on her shoulder through which at +times she feels no sensation? Yes, she has; but I +scarcely thought you cared to hear about ‘devil’s +claws.’</p> + +<p>“Ulame also told me,” Pierce continued, “that the +existence of this spot denotes in the possessor, not +only a susceptibility to ‘controls’ and ‘spells,’ but +also occult powers of clairvoyance. She even suggested +that my ward could, if she would, tell me who +was in the room and burned my papers. Do you +follow her beliefs so much farther?”</p> + +<p>“I follow not the negress, but modern scientific +psychologists, Dr. Pierce,” Trant replied, bluntly, “in +the belief, the knowledge, that the existence of the +anæsthetic spot called the ‘devil’s claw’ shows in its +possessor a condition which, under peculiar +circumstances, may become what is popularly called +clairvoyant.</p> + +<p>“Dr. Pierce, an instant ago you spoke—as an +archæologist—of the exploded belief in witchcraft; +but please do not forget that that belief was at one +time widespread, almost universal. You speak +now—as an educated man—with equal contempt of +clairvoyance; but a half-hour’s ride down Madison or +Halsted Street, with an eye open to the signs in the +second-story windows, will show you how widespread +to-day is the belief in clairvoyance, since so many +persons gain a living by it. If you ask me whether +I believe in witchcraft and clairvoyance, I will tell +you I do not believe one atom in any infernal power +of one person over another; and so far as anyone’s +being able to read the future or reveal in the past +matters which they have had no natural means of +knowing, I do not believe in clairvoyance. But if you +or I believed that any widespread popular conception +such as witchcraft once was and clairvoyance is +to-day, can exist without having somewhere a basis of +fact, we should be holding a belief even more +ridiculous than the negro’s credulity!</p> + +<p>“I am certain that no explanation of what happened +in this house last Wednesday and since can be +formed, except by recognizing in it one of those +comparatively rare authentic cases from which the popular +belief in witchcraft and clairvoyance has sprung; and +I would rest the solution of this case on the ability +of your ward, under the proper circumstances, to tell +us who was in this room last Wednesday, and what +the influence is that has been so strangely exercised +over her by the chalchihuitl stone!”</p> + +<p>The psychologist, after the last word, stood with +sparkling eyes, and lips pressed together in a straight, +defiant line.</p> + +<p>“Iris tell! Iris!” Pierce excitedly exclaimed, when +the door opened behind him, and his ward entered.</p> + +<p>“Here is the form you asked me for, Richard,” +she said, handing her guardian a paper, and without +showing the least curiosity as to what was going on +between the two men, she went out again.</p> + +<p>Pierce’s eyes followed her with strange uneasiness +and perplexity; then fell to the paper she had given +him.</p> + +<p>“It is the notice of the indefinite postponement of +our wedding, Trant,” he explained. “I must send it +to the Chicago papers this afternoon, +unless—unless—” he halted, dubiously.</p> + +<p>“Unless the ‘spell’ on Miss Pierce can be broken +by the means I have just spoken of?” Trant smiled +slightly as he finished the sentence for him. “If I +am not greatly mistaken, Dr. Pierce, your wedding +will still take place. But as to this notice of its +postponement, tell me, how long before last Wednesday, +when this thing happened, was the earliest +announcement of the wedding made in the papers?”</p> + +<p>“I should say two weeks,” Pierce replied in +surprise.</p> + +<p>“Do you happen to know, Dr. Pierce—you are, +of course, well known in Central America—whether +the announcement was copied in papers circulating +there?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I have heard from several friends in +Central America who had seen the news in Spanish +papers.”</p> + +<p>“Excellent! Then it is most essential that the +notice of this postponement be made at once. If you +will allow me, I will take it with me to Chicago this +afternoon; and if it meets the eye of the person I +hope, then I trust soon to be able to introduce to you +your last Wednesday’s visitor.”</p> + +<p>“Without—Iris?” Pierce asked nervously.</p> + +<p>“Believe me, I will do everything in my power to +spare Miss Pierce the experience you seem so unwilling +she should undergo. But if it proves to be the +only means of solving this case, you must trust me to +the extent of letting me make the attempt.” He +glanced at his watch. “I can catch a train for Chicago +in fifteen minutes, and it will be the quickest +way to get this notice in the papers. I will let you +hear from me again as soon as necessary. I can find +my own way out.”</p> + +<p>He turned sharply to the door, and, as Pierce made +no effort to detain him, he left the study.</p> + +<hr> + +<p>The surprising news of the sudden “indefinite +postponement” of the romantic wedding of Dr. Pierce, +the Central American archæologist, to the ward whom +he had brought from Honduras as a child, was made +in the last editions of the Chicago evening papers +which reached Lake Forest that night; and it was +repeated with fuller comments in both the morning and +afternoon papers of the next day. But to Pierce’s +increasing anxiety he heard nothing from Trant until +the second morning, and then it was merely a telephone +message asking him to be at home at three o’clock that +afternoon and to see that Miss Pierce was at home +also, but to prevent her from seeing or hearing any +visitors who might call at that hour. At ten minutes +to three, Pierce himself, watching nervously at the +window, saw the young psychologist approaching the +house in company with two strangers, and himself +admitted them.</p> + +<p>“Dr. Pierce, let me introduce Inspector Walker of +the Chicago Police,” Trant, when they had been +admitted to the library, motioned to the larger of his +companions, a well-proportioned giant, who wore his +black serge suit with an awkwardness that showed a +greater familiarity with blue broadcloth and brass +buttons. “This other gentleman,” he turned to the very +tall, slender, long-nosed man, with an abnormally +narrow head and face, coal black hair and sallow skin, +whom Trant and the officer had half held between +them, “calls himself Don Canonigo Penol, though I +do not know whether that is his real name. He +speaks English, and I believe he knows more than +anyone else about what went on in your study last +Wednesday.” A momentary flash of white teeth under +Penol’s mustache, which was neither a smile nor a +greeting, met Pierce’s look of inquiry, and he cast +uneasy glances to right and left out of his small crafty +eyes. “But as Penol, from the moment of his arrest, +has flatly refused to make any statement regarding +the loss of your papers or the chalchihuitl stone +which has so strangely influenced your ward,” Trant +continued, “we have been obliged to bring him here +in hope of getting at the truth through the means I +mentioned to you day before yesterday.”</p> + +<p>“The means you mentioned day before yesterday?” +echoed Pierce, as he spun round and faced Trant with +keen apprehension; and it was plain to the psychologist +from the gray pallor and nervous trembling of the +man that his anxiety and uncertainty had not been +lessened, but rather increased by their former +conversation. “You refer, I presume, to your plan to gain +facts from her through—through clairvoyance!”</p> + +<p>“I saw Mr. Trant pick the murderer in the Bronson +case,” Inspector Walker intervened confidently, “in a +way no police officer had ever heard of; and I’ve +followed him since. And if he says he can get an +explanation here by clairvoyance, I believe him!” The +quiet faith of the huge officer brought Pierce to a +halt.</p> + +<p>“For the sake of her happiness and your own, Dr. +Pierce,” Trant urged.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t know—I don’t know!” Pierce +pressed his hands to his temples in indecision. “I +confess this matter is outside my comprehension. I +have spoken again to the persons who recommended +me to you, and they, like Inspector Walker, have +only repeated that I can have absolute confidence in +you!”</p> + +<p>“It is now three o’clock,” Trant began, brusquely.</p> + +<p>“Five minutes after,” said the Inspector.</p> + +<p>“Five minutes makes no difference. But it is absolutely +necessary, Dr. Pierce, that if we are to make +this test we begin it at once; and I can scarcely +undertake it without your consent. It requires that the +general look of the rooms and the direction of the +sunlight should be the same as at three o’clock last +Wednesday afternoon. Dr. Pierce, will you bring +your ward to me in the study?”</p> + +<p>He turned to his client with quiet confidence as +though all were settled. “Inspector Walker and +Penol will remain here—the Inspector already knows +what I require of him. I noticed a clock Saturday +over the desk in the study and heard it strike the hour; +you have no objection to my turning it back ten or +fifteen minutes, Pierce? And before you go, let me +have the chalchihuitl stone!”</p> + +<p>For a moment Pierce, with his hands still pressed +against his temples, stood looking at Trant in +perplexity and doubt; then, with sudden resolution, he +handed him the chalchihuitl stone and went to get his +ward. A few minutes later he led her into the study +where the psychologist was awaiting them alone. +Pierce’s first glance was at the clock, which he saw +had been turned back by Trant to mark five minutes +to three.</p> + +<p>“Good afternoon, Miss Pierce,” Trant set a chair +for her, with its back to the clock, as she acknowledged +his salutation; then continued, conversationally: +“You spoke the other day of the morning sunlight in +these rooms, but I have been thinking that the afternoon +sunlight, as it gets near three o’clock, is even +more beautiful. One can hardly imagine anything +occurring here which would be distasteful or +unpleasant, or shocking—”</p> + +<p>The girl’s eyes filled with a vague uneasiness, and +turned toward Pierce, who, not knowing what to +expect, leaned against the table watching her with +strained anxiety; and at sight of him the half formed +uneasiness of her gaze vanished. Trant rose sharply, +and took Pierce by the arm.</p> + +<p>“You must not look at her so, Dr. Pierce,” he +commanded, tensely, “or you will defeat my purpose. It +will be better if she does not even see you. Sit down +at your desk behind her.”</p> + +<p>When Pierce had seated himself at the desk, convulsively +grasping the arms of his chair, Trant glanced +at the clock, which now marked two minutes of three, +and hastily returned to the girl. He took from his +pocket the chalchihuitl stone which Pierce had given +him, and at sight of it the girl drew back with +sudden uneasiness and apprehension.</p> + +<p>“I know you have seen this stone before, Miss +Pierce,” Trant said, significantly, “for you and Dr. +Pierce found it. But had you never seen it before +then? Think! Its color and shape are so unique +that I believe one who had seen it could never forget +it. It is so peculiar that it would not surprise me to +know that it has a very special significance! And it +has! For it is the chalchihuitl stone. It is found in +Central America and Mexico; the Aztecs used it in +celebrating marriage—in Central America, where +there are Indians and Spaniards; tall, slender, long-nosed +Spaniards, with coal black hair and sallow skins +and tiny black mustaches—Central America, where +all those sculptured gods and strange inscriptions are +found, which the papers were about that were +destroyed one afternoon here in this study!”</p> + +<p>As he spoke the clock struck three; and at the sound +the girl uttered a gasp of uncontrollable terror, then +poised herself, listening expectantly. Almost with the +last stroke of the clock the door bell rang, and the girl +shrunk suddenly together.</p> + +<p>“Tall, dark, slender Spaniards,” Trant continued; +but stopped, for the girl was not heeding him. White +and tense, she was listening to footsteps which were +approaching the study door along the floor of the +museum. The door opened suddenly, and Don Canonigo +Penol, pushed from behind by the stern inspector +of police, appeared on the threshold.</p> + +<p>The girl’s head had fallen back, her eyes had turned +upward so that she seemed to be looking at the ceiling, +but they were blank and sightless; she lay, rather than +sat, upon the chair, her clenched hands close against +her sides, her whole attitude one of stony rigidity.</p> + +<p>“Iris! Iris!” cried Pierce in agony.</p> + +<p>“It is no use to call,” the psychologist’s outstretched +hand prevented Pierce from throwing himself on his +knees beside the girl, “she cannot hear you. She +can hear no one unless they speak of the chalchihuitl +stone and Central America, and, I hope, the events +which went forward in this house last Wednesday. +The chalchihuitl stone! The chalchihuitl stone! +She hears that, doesn’t she?”</p> + +<p>A full half minute passed while the psychologist, +anxiously bending over the rigid body, waited for an +answer. Then, as though by intense effort, the stony +lips parted and the answer came, “Yes!” Pierce fell +back with a cry of amazement; the inspector of police +straightened, astonished; the stolid face of Don +Canonigo Penol was convulsed all at once with a +living terror and he slipped from the policeman’s hold +and fell, rather than seated himself, in a chair.</p> + +<p>“Who is it that is speaking?” asked Trant in the +same steady tone.</p> + +<p>“Isabella Clarke,” the voice was clearer, but +high-pitched and entirely different from Iris’s. The +psychologist started with surprise.</p> + +<p>“How old is Isabella?” he asked after a moment.</p> + +<p>“She is young—a little girl—a child!” the voice +was stronger still.</p> + +<p>“Does Isabella know of Iris Pierce?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Can she see Iris last Wednesday afternoon at three +o’clock?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“What is she doing?”</p> + +<p>“She is in the library. She went upstairs to take +a nap, but she could not sleep and came down to get a +book.”</p> + +<p>A long cry from some distant part of the house—a +shriek which set vibrating the tense nerves of all in +the little study—suddenly startled them. Trant +turned sharply toward the door; the others, petrified +in their places, followed the direction of his look. +Through the open door of the study and the arched +opening of the anteroom, the foot of the main stairs +was discernible; and, painfully and excitedly descending +them, was a white-haired woman leaning on a cane +and on the other side supported by the trembling +negress.</p> + +<p>“Richard, Richard!” she screamed, “that woman +is in the house—in the study! I heard her voice—the +voice of the woman who burned your papers!”</p> + +<p>“It is my mother!” Pierce, suddenly coming to +himself, turned with staring eyes on Trant and darted +from the study. He returned an instant later and +closed the door behind him.</p> + +<p>“Trant,” he faltered, “my mother says that the +voice that she—that we all—have just heard is the +voice of the woman who was in the study +Wednesday.”</p> + +<p>The psychologist impatiently stopped the excited +man with a gesture. “You still see Iris?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” the answer came, after a considerable +pause.</p> + +<p>“She has not left the library? Tell us what she is +doing.”</p> + +<p>“She turns toward the clock, which is striking three. +The door bell rings. Both the maids are out, so Iris +lays down her book and goes to the door. At the +door is a tall, dark man, all alone. He is a Spaniard +from the mountains in Honduras, and his name is +Canonigo Penol.”</p> + +<p>An indrawing of his breath, sharp almost as a whistle, +brought the gaze of all upon Penol; but the eyes +of the Spaniard, starting in superstitious terror from +his livid face, saw only the girl.</p> + +<p>“Penol is not known to Iris, but he has come to +see her. She is surprised. She leads him to the +library. His manner makes her uneasy,” the voice, +now uninterrupted by Trant’s questions, went on with +great rapidity. “He asks her if she remembers that +she lived among Indians. Iris remembers that. He +asks if she remembers that before that she lived with +white men—an American and some Spaniards—who +were near and dear to her. Iris cannot +remember. He asks if she remembers him—Penol. His +speech frightens her. He says: ‘Once an American +went to Central America with an expedition, and got +lost from his companions. He crossed rivers; he was +in woods, jungles, mountains; he was near dying. A +Spaniard found him. The Spaniard was poor—poor. +He had a daughter.</p> + +<p>“ ‘The American, whose name was James Clarke, +loved the daughter and married her. He did not +want ever to go back to the United States; he was +mad—mad with love, and mad about the ancient +carved statues of Central America, the temples and +inscriptions. He would sit all day in front of an +inscription making marks on a paper, and afterwards +he would tear the paper up. They had a daughter. +Canonigo repeats many times that they were very +poor. They had only one white servant and a hundred +Indians. Sickness in the mountains killed the +old Spaniard. In another year sickness killed the +wife also. Now the American was all alone with his +baby daughter and one white servant and the Indians. +Then sickness also took hold of him. He was +troubled about his daughter; he trusted no one; he +would drag himself in the night in spite of his sickness +to see that no one had done harm to her.</p> + +<p>“ ‘The American was dying. He proposed to the +young Spaniard many things; finally he proposed that +he marry the little girl. There was no priest, and the +American was mad; mad about ancient times and +dead, vanished peoples, and more mad because he +was dying; and he married them after the old custom +of the Aztecs, with the chalchihuitl stone and a bird +feather, while they sat on a woven mat with the +corners of their garments tied together—the young +Spaniard and the little girl, who was four years old. +Afterwards her father died, and that night the +Spaniard all alone buried him: and when toward morning +he came back he found only a few Indians too old to +travel. The others, frightened of the mad dead man, +had gone, taking the little girl with them.’ ”</p> + +<p>“What does Iris do when she hears that?” asked +Trant.</p> + +<p>“It begins to revive memories in Iris,” the voice +answered quickly; “but she says bravely, ‘What is +that to me? Why do you tell me about it?’ ‘Because,’ +says Canonigo Penol, ‘I have the chalchihuitl +stone which bears witness to this marriage!’ And as +he holds it to her and it flashes in the sun, just as it +did when they held it before her when her clothes were +tied to his on the mat, she remembers and knows that +it is so; and that she is married to this man! By the +flash of the chalchihuitl stone in the sun she remembers +and she knows that the rest is true!”</p> + +<p>“And then?” Trant pressed.</p> + +<p>“She is filled with horror. She shrinks from +Canonigo. She puts her hands to her face, because +she loved Dr. Pierce with her whole heart—”</p> + +<p>“O God!” cried Pierce.</p> + +<p>“She cries out that it is not so, though she knows +it is the truth. She dashes the stone from his hand +and pushes Canonigo from her. He is unable to find +the stone; and seeing the sculptured gods and the +inscriptions about the room, he thinks it is these by +which Dr. Pierce is able to hold her against him. So +now he says that he will destroy these pictures and +he will have her. Iris screams. She runs from +Canonigo to the study. She shuts the door upon him, +as he follows. She sets a chair against it. Canonigo +is pushing to get in. But she gets the key to the +cabinet from the desk and opens the cabinet.</p> + +<p>“She takes out the papers, but there is no place +to hide them before he enters. So she opens the +drawer, but it is full of worthless papers. She takes +out enough of the old papers to make room for the +others, which she puts in the bottom of the drawer +underneath the rest. The old papers she puts into the +cabinet above, closing the cabinet; but she had no time +to lock it. Canonigo has pushed the door open. He +has found the stone and tries to show it to her again; +but again she dashes it from his hand. He rushes +straight to the cabinet, for he has seen from the tree +where the papers are kept. The cabinet is unlocked, +but he tries to pull the door to him. He pulls off the +knob. Then he smashes the glass with his foot; he +begins burning the worthless papers. So Iris has +done all she can and runs from him to her room. She +is exhausted, fainting. She falls upon the bed—”</p> + +<p>The voice stopped suddenly. Pierce had sprung +to her with a cry, and putting his arms about her for +support, spoke to her again and again. But she neither +moved nor spoke to his entreaties, and seemed entirely +insensible when he touched her. He leaped up, facing +Trant in hostile demand, but still kept one arm +about her.</p> + +<p>“What is this you have done to her now?” he cried. +“And what is this you have made her say?”</p> + +<p>But the psychologist now was not watching either +the girl or his client. His eyes were fixed upon the +face of Canonigo Penol, shot with red veins and livid +spots of overpowering terror.</p> + +<p>“So, Don Canonigo Penol,” Trant addressed him, +“that was the way of it? But, man, you could +scarcely have been enough in love with a girl four +years old to take this long and expensive trip for her +nineteen years later. Was there property then, which +belonged to her that you wanted to get?”</p> + +<p>Canonigo Penol heard the question, though he did +not look at his questioner. His eyes, starting from +his head, could still see only the stony face of the girl +who, thus unconsciously, under the guidance of the +psychologist, had accused him in a manner which filled +him with superstitious terror. Palpitating, convulsed +with fright, with loose lips shaking and knees which +would not bear his weight, he slipped from his chair +and crawled and groveled on the floor before her.</p> + +<p>“Oh, speak not—speak not again!” he shrieked. +“I will tell all! I lied; the old Spaniard was not +poor—he was rich! But she can have all! I abandon +all claim! Only let me go from here—let me +leave her!”</p> + +<figure id="illus6"> + <img src="images/illus6.jpg" alt="In a large room a woman slumps + in a chair, staring at the ceiling with a blank expression. A + man kneels before her, upset, with his hands clasped before him. + Three other men stand around the seated woman protectively, + closely watching the other man."> + <figcaption>“Oh, speak not—speak not again!” he shrieked. “I will + tell all. I lied”</figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>“First we will see exactly what damage you have +done,” Trant answered. “Dr. Pierce,” he turned +collectedly to his client, “you have just heard the true +account of last Wednesday afternoon.”</p> + +<p>“You want me to believe that she let him in—she +was here and did that?” Pierce cried. “You think +that was all real and—true!”</p> + +<p>“Look in the drawer she indicated, and see if she +was able, indeed, to save the papers as she said.”</p> + +<p>Mechanically and many times looking back at +Trant’s compelling face, Pierce went to the cabinet, +stooped and, pulling out the drawer, tossed aside a +mass of scattering papers on the top and rose with +a bundle of manuscripts held together with wire clips. +He stared at them almost stupidly, then, coming to +himself, sorted them through rapidly and with +amazement.</p> + +<p>“They are all here!” he cried, astounded. “They +are intact. But what—what trick is this, Mr. +Trant?”</p> + +<p>“Wait!” Trant motioned him sharply to be silent. +“She is about to awake! Inspector, she must not +find you here, or this other,” and seizing Penol by one +arm, while the inspector seized the other, he pushed +him from the room, and closed the study door upon +them both. Then he turned to the girl, whose more +regular breathing and lessening rigidity had warned +him that she was coming to herself.</p> + +<p>Gently, peacefully, as those of a child wakening +from sleep, her eyes opened; and with no knowledge +of all that in the last half hour had so shaken those +who listened in the little study, with no realization even +that an interval of time had passed, she replied +to the first remark that Trant had made to her when +she entered the room:</p> + +<p>“Yes, indeed, Mr. Trant, the afternoon sun is +beautiful; but I like these rooms better in the morning.”</p> + +<p>“You will not mind, Miss Pierce,” Trant answered +gently, without heeding Pierce’s gasp of surprise, and +hiding him from the girl’s sight with his body, as he +saw Dr. Pierce could not restrain his emotion, “if I +ask you to leave us for a little while. I have +something to talk over with your guardian.”</p> + +<p>She rose, and with a bright smile left them.</p> + +<p>“Trant! Trant!” cried Pierce.</p> + +<p>“You will understand better, Dr. Pierce,” said the +psychologist, “if I explain this to you from its +beginning with the fact of the ‘devil’s claw,’ which was +where I myself began this investigation.</p> + +<p>“You remember that I overheard Ulame, the negro +nurse, speak of this characteristic of Miss Pierce. +You, like most educated people to-day, regarded it +simply as an anæsthetic spot—curious, but without +extraordinary significance. I, as a psychologist, +recognized it at once as an evidence, first pointed out by +the French scientist, Charcot, of a somewhat unusual +and peculiar nervous disposition in your ward, Miss +Iris.</p> + +<p>“The anæsthetic spot is among the most important +of several physical evidences of mental peculiarity +which, in popular opinion, marked out its possessors +through all ages as ‘different’ from other people. In +some ages and countries they have been executed as +witches; in others, they have been deified as saints; +they have been regarded as prophets, pythonesses, sibyls, +‘clairvoyants.’ For in some respects their mental +life is more acute than that of the mass of mankind, +in others it is sometimes duller; and they are +known to scientists as ‘hystericals.’</p> + +<p>“Now, when you gave me your account, Dr. +Pierce, of what had happened here last Wednesday, +it was evident to me at once that, if any of the persons +in the house had admitted the visitor who rang the +bell—and this seemed highly probable because the +bell rang only once, and would have been rung again +if the visitor had not been admitted—the door could +only have been opened by Miss Iris. For we have +evidence that neither the cook nor Ulame answered +the bell; and moreover, all of those in the house, except +Miss Iris, had stood together at the top of the stairs +and listened to the screams from below.</p> + +<p>“Following you into the study, then, I found plain +evidence, as I pointed out to you at the time, that two +persons had been there, one a man; one perfectly +familiar with the premises, the other wholly unfamiliar +with them. I had also evidence, from the smoke in +the museum, that the study door had been open after +the papers were lighted, and I saw that whoever came +out of the study could have gone up the anteroom stairs +to the second floor of the south wing, but could not +have passed out through the main hall without being +seen by those listening at the top of the stairway. All +these physical facts, therefore, if uncontradicted by +stronger evidence, made it an almost inevitable +conclusion that Miss Iris had been in the study.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes!” Pierce agreed, impatiently, “if you +arrange them in that order!”</p> + +<p>“In contradiction of this conclusion,” Trant went +on rapidly, “I had three important pieces of evidence. +First, the statement of your mother that the voice she +heard was that of a strange woman; second, the fact +that Miss Iris had gone to her room to take a nap and +had been found asleep there on the bed by Ulame; +third, that your ward herself denied with evident +honesty and perfect frankness that she had been present, +or knew anything at all of what had gone on in the +study. I admit that without the evidence of the +anæsthetic spot—or even with it, if it had not been for +the chalchihuitl stone—I should have considered this +contradictory evidence far stronger than the other.</p> + +<p>“But the immense and obvious influence on Miss +Iris of the chalchihuitl stone, when you found it +together—an influence which she could not account for, +but which nevertheless was sufficient to make her +refuse to marry you—kept me on the right track. +For it made me certain that the stone must have been +connected with some intense emotional experience +undergone by your ward, the details of which she no +longer remembered.”</p> + +<p>“No longer remembered!” exclaimed Pierce, +incredulously. “When it had happened only the day +before!”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” Trant checked him quickly. “You are doing +just what I told you a moment ago the anæsthetic +spot had warned me against; you are judging Miss +Iris as though she were like everybody else! I, as a +psychologist, knew that having the mental disposition +that the anæsthetic spot indicated, any such intense +emotion, any such tragedy in her life as the one I +imagined, was connected with the chalchihuitl stone, +might be at once forgotten; as you see it was, for +when Ulame aroused her only a few moments later +she no longer remembered any part of it.</p> + +<p>“You look incredulous, Dr. Pierce! I am not telling +you anything that is not well authenticated, and a +familiar fact to men of science. If you want +corroboration, I can only advise you to trace my +statement through the works on psychology in any +well-furnished library, where you will find it confirmed by +hundreds of specific instances. With a mental disposition +like Miss Iris’s, an emotion so intense as that +she suffered divides itself off from the rest of her +consciousness. It is so overpowering that it cannot +connect itself with her daily life; ordinary sights and +sounds cannot call it back to memory. It can be +awakened only by some extraordinary means such as those +I used when, as far as I was able, I reproduced for +her benefit just now here in your study all the sights +and sounds of last Wednesday afternoon that +preceded and attended her interview with Canonigo +Penol.”</p> + +<p>“It seems impossible, Mr. Trant,” Pierce pressed +his hands to his eyes dazedly. “But I have seen it +with my own eyes!”</p> + +<p>“The sudden sleep into which she had fallen before +Ulame aroused her, and the fact that the voice your +mother heard seemed to her a strange one,” Trant +continued, “added strength to my conclusion, for both +were only additional evidences of the effect of an +intense emotion on a disposition such as Miss Iris’s. +Now, what was this emotional experience so closely +connected with the chalchihuitl stone that the sight of +the stone was able to recall it, with a dulling feeling +of fear and apathy to her emotions, without being in +itself able to bring recollection to her conscious mind, +I could only conjecture.</p> + +<p>“But after learning from you that while a child +she had lived among Central American Indians, and +discovering that the chalchihuitl stone was a +ceremonial stone of savage religious rites—particularly +the marriage rite—I could not help but note the +remarkable coincidence that the man who brought the +chalchihuitl stone appeared precisely at the time he +would have come if he had learned from newspapers +in Central America of the girl’s intended marriage. +As the most probable reason for his coming, considering +the other circumstances, was to prevent the wedding, +I thought the easiest way to lay hands upon him +and establish his identity was to publish at once the +notice that the wedding had been postponed, which, if +he saw it, would make him confident he had +accomplished his object and draw him here again. Draw +him it did, last night, into the arms of Walker and +myself, with a Lake Forest officer along to make the +arrest legal.”</p> + +<p>“I see! I see! Go on!” Pierce urged intently.</p> + +<p>“But though I caught him,” Trant continued, “I +could not gain the really important facts from him by +questioning, as I was totally unaware of the particulars +which concerned Miss Iris’s—or rather Isabella +Clarke’s—parentage and self-exiled father. But I +knew that, by throwing her into the true ‘trance’ +which you have just witnessed—a hysterical condition +known as monoideic somnambulism to psychologists—she +would be forced to recall and tell us in detail of the +experiences which she had passed through in that condition, +precisely as the persons possessed of the ‘devil’s +claw’ who were burned and tortured as witches in the +Middle Ages had the ability sometimes to go into +trances where they knew and told of things which +they were not conscious of in their ordinary state; +precisely as certain clairvoyants to-day are often able +to tell correctly certain things of which they could +seem to have no natural knowledge.</p> + +<p>“As for Miss Iris, there is now no reason for +apprehension. Ordinarily, in case conditions might arise +which would remind her so strongly of the events that +took place here last Wednesday, she would be thrown +automatically into the condition she was in this +afternoon when she gave us her narrative. She would then +repeat all the particulars rapidly aloud, as you have +heard her give them; or she would act them out +dramatically, going through all the motions of her flight +from Penol, and her attempt to save your papers. And +each reminder being made more easy by the one before, +these ‘trances’ as you call them, would become more +and more frequent.</p> + +<p>“But knowing now, as you do, all the particulars of +what happened, you have only to recount them to her, +repeating them time after time if necessary, until she +normally remembers them and you have drawn the two +parts of her consciousness back again into one. She +will then, except to the psychologist, be the same as +other people, and will show no more peculiarity in +the rest of her life than she had already shown in that +part of it she has passed in your household. My work +here, I think, is done,” the psychologist rose abruptly, +and after grasping the hand which Pierce eagerly and +thankfully stretched out to him, he preceded him +through the doorway.</p> + +<p>In the high-ceilinged museum, which blazed red with +the light of the setting sun, they came upon Iris, +standing again in absorbed contemplation of the sacrificial +stone. She turned and smiled pleasantly at them, with +no sign of curiosity; but Pierce, as he passed, bent +gently and kissed her lips.</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter" id="ch07"> + +<h2>VII. <br> The Empty Cartridges</h2> + +<p>Stephen Sheppard, big game shot and all-around +sportsman, lay tensely on his side in bed, watching +for the sun to rise out of Lake Michigan. When the +first crest of that yellow rim would push clear of the +grim, gray horizon stretching its great, empty half +circle about the Chicago shore, he was going to make +a decision—a decision for the life or for the death +of a young man; and as he personally had always cared +for that man more than for any other man so much +younger, and as his niece, who was the chief person +left in the world that Sheppard loved, also cared for +the man so much that she would surely marry him if +he were left alive, Sheppard was not at all anxious for +that day to begin.</p> + +<p>The gray on the horizon, which had been becoming +alarmingly pale the last few moments as he stared at +it, now undeniably was spread with purple and pink +from behind the water’s edge. Decide he must, he +knew, within a very few minutes or the rising sun +would find him as faltering in his mind as he was the +night before when he had given himself till daybreak +to form his decision. The sportsman shut his teeth +determinedly. No matter how fruitless the hours of +darkness when he had matched mercy with vengeance; +no matter how hopeless he had found it during the +earlier moments of that slow December dawn to say +whether he would recognize that his young friend had +merely taken the law into his own hands and done +bare justice, and therefore the past could be left +buried, or whether he must return retribution upon that +young man and bring back all that hidden and +forgotten past—all was no matter; he must decide now +within five minutes. For it was a sportsman’s +compact he had made with himself to rise with the sun +and act one way or the other, and he kept compacts +with himself as obstinately and as unflinchingly as a +man must who has lived decently a long life alone, +without any employment or outside discipline.</p> + +<p>Now the great, crimson aurora shooting up into the +sky warned him that day was close upon him; now +the semi-circle of gray waters was bisected by a broad +and blood red pathway; now white darts at the aurora’s +center foretold the coming of the sun. He swung +his feet out of bed and sat up—a stalwart, rosy, +obstinate old man, his thick, white, wiry hair tousled +in his indecision—and, reaching over swiftly, snatched +up a loose coin which lay with his watch and keys +upon the table beside his bed.</p> + +<p>“I’ll give him equal chances anyway,” he satisfied +himself as he sat on the edge of the bed with the coin +in his hands. “Tails, he goes free, but heads, +he—hangs!”</p> + +<p>Then waiting for the first direct gleam of the sun +to give him his signal, he spun it and put his bare foot +upon it as it twirled upon the floor.</p> + +<p>“Heads!” He removed his foot and looked at it +without stooping. He pushed his feet into the slippers +beside his bed, threw his dressing-gown over his +shoulders, went directly to the telephone and called up the +North Side Police Station.</p> + +<p>“I want you to arrest Jim Tyler—James Tyler +at the Alden Club at once!” he commanded abruptly. +“Yes; that’s it. What charge? What do I care what +charge you arrest him on—auto speeding—anything +you want—only get him!” The old sportsman spoke +with even sharper brevity than usual. “Look him +up and I’ll come with my charges against him soon +enough. See here; do you know who this is, +speaking? This is Steve Sheppard. Ask your Captain +Crowley whether I have to swear to a warrant at this +time in the morning to have a man arrested. All +right!</p> + +<p>“That starts it!” he recognized grimly to himself, +as he slammed down the receiver. The opposition at +the police station had given the needed drive to his +determination. “Now I’ll follow it through. +Beginning with that fellow—Trant,” he recollected, as +he found upon his desk the memorandum which he +had made the night before, in case he should decide +this way.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Trant; you got my note of last night?” he +said, a little less sharply, after he had called the +number noted as Trant’s room address at his club. “I +am Stephen Sheppard—brother of the late Neal +Sheppard. I have a criminal case and—as I wrote +you I might—I want your help at once. If you +leave your rooms immediately, I will call for you at +your office before eight; I want you to meet a train +with me at eight-thirty. Very well!”</p> + +<p>He rang for his man, then, to order his motor and +to tell him to bring coffee and rolls to his room, which +he gulped down while he dressed. Fifteen minutes +later he jumped onto the front seat of his car, +displacing the chauffeur, and himself drove the car +rapidly down town.</p> + +<p>A crisp, sharp breeze blew in upon them from the +lake, scattering dry, rare flakes of snow. It was a +clear, perfect day for the first of December in Chicago. +But Stephen Sheppard was oblivious to it. In the +northern woods beyond the Canada boundary line the +breeze would be sharper and cleaner that day and smell +less of the streets and—it was the very height of +his hunting season for big game in those woods! Up +there he would still have been shooting, but as the +papers had put it, “the woods had taken their toll” +again this year, and his brother’s life had been part of +that toll.</p> + +<p>“Neal Sheppard’s Body Found in the Woods!” +He read the headlines in the paper which the boy +thrust into his face, and he slowed the car at the Rush +Street bridge. “Victim of Stray Shot Being Brought +to Chicago.” Well! That was the way it was +known! Stephen Sheppard released his brake, with +a jerk; crossed the bridge and, eight minutes later, +brought up the car with a sharper shock before the +First National Bank Building.</p> + +<p>He had never met the man he had come to see—had +heard of him only through startling successes in +the psychological detection of crime with which this +comparative youth, fresh from the laboratory of a +university and using methods new to the criminals and +their pursuers alike, had startled the public and the +wiser heads of the police. But finding the door to +Trant’s office on the twelfth floor standing open, and +the psychologist himself taking off his things, Sheppard +first stared over the stocky, red-haired youth, and +then clicked his tongue with satisfaction.</p> + +<p>“It’s lucky you’re early, Mr. Trant,” he approved +bluffly. “There is short enough time as it is, before +we meet the train.” He had glanced at the clock as +he spoke, and pulled off his gloves without ceremony. +“You look like what I expected—what I’d heard you +were. Now—you know me?”</p> + +<p>“By reputation, at least, Mr. Sheppard,” Trant +replied. “There has been enough in the papers these +last two weeks, and as you spoke of yourself over the +telephone just now as the brother of the late Neal +Sheppard, I suppose this morning’s report is correct. +That is, your brother has finally been found in the +woods—dead?”</p> + +<p>“So you’ve been following it, have you?”</p> + +<p>“Only in the papers. I saw, of course, that Mr. +Neal Sheppard was missing from your hunting party +in Northern Ontario two weeks ago,” Trant replied. +“I saw that you had been unable to find him and had +given him up for drowned in one of the lakes or dead +in the woods, and therefore you had come home the +first of the week to tell his daughter. Then this +morning I saw Mr. Chapin and your guide, whom you had +left to keep up the search, had reported they found +him—killed, apparently, by a stray shot.”</p> + +<p>“I see. I told Chapin to give that out till he saw +me, no matter how he found him.” Sheppard tossed +his fur cap upon Trant’s flat-topped desk before him +and slapped his heavy gloves, one after the other, +beside it.</p> + +<p>“You mean that you have private information that +your brother was not shot accidentally?” Trant +leaned over his desk intently.</p> + +<p>“Exactly. But I’ve not come to mince matters +with you, Trant. He was murdered, +man,—murdered!”</p> + +<p>“Murdered? I understand then!” Trant +straightened back.</p> + +<p>“No, you don’t,” his client contradicted bluntly. +“I haven’t come to ask you to find the murderer for +me. I named him to the police and ordered his arrest +before I called you this morning. He is Jim Tyler; +and, as I know he was at his club, they must have him +by this time. There’s mighty little psychology in this +case, Trant. But if I’m going to hang young Jim, +I’m going to hang him quick—for it’s not a pleasant +job; and I have called for you merely to hear the +proofs that Chapin and the Indian are bringing—they’ve +sent word only that it is murder, as I +suspected—so that when we put those proofs into the +hands of the state’s attorney, they can finish Jim +quick—and be done with it!”</p> + +<p>“Tyler?” Trant leaned quickly toward his client +again, not trying now to conceal his surprise. +“Young Tyler, your shooting-mate and your partner +in the new Sheppard-Tyler Gun Company?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Tyler,” the other returned brusquely, but +rising as he spoke, and turning his back upon the +pretext of closing the transom. “My shooting-mate +for the last three years and I guess he’s rather more +than my partner in the gun company; for, to tell the +truth, it was for him I put up the money to start the +business. And there are more reasons than that for +making me want to let him go—though he shot my +brother. But those reasons—I decided this morning—are +not enough this late in the day! So I decided +also to hold back nothing—to keep back nothing of +what’s behind this crime, whoever it hurts! I said +I haven’t come to mince matters with you, Trant. +Well—I shan’t!”</p> + +<p>He turned back from the transom, and glanced +once more swiftly at the clock.</p> + +<p>“I shall be very glad to go over the evidence for +you, Mr. Sheppard,” Trant acquiesced, following the +older man’s glance; “and as you have come here half +an hour before we need start to meet the train—”</p> + +<p>“Just so,” the other interrupted bluntly. “I am +here to tell you as much as I am able before we meet +the others. That’s why I asked you if you knew me. +So now—exactly how much do you know about me, +Trant?”</p> + +<p>“I know you are a wealthy man—a large holder +of real estate, the papers say, which has advanced +greatly in value; and I know—this is from the papers +too—that you belong to a coterie of men who have +grown up with the city,—old settlers of thirty years’ +standing.”</p> + +<p>“Quite right. Neal and I came here broke—without +a cent, to pick up what we could in Chicago +after the fire. And we made our fortunes then, +easy—or easily, as I’ve learned to say now,” he +smiled to himself grimly, “by buying up lots about +the city when they were cheap and everybody scared +and selling them for a song, and we had only to hold +them until they made us rich. I am now a rich old +bachelor, Trant, hunting in season and trap-shooting +out, and setting up Jim Tyler in the gun business +between times. The worst that was said about Neal was +his drinking and bad temper; for Leigh, his daughter, +goes as well as anybody else in her circle; and even +young Jim Tyler has the run of a dozen clubs. That’s +all good, respectable and satisfactory, isn’t it? And +is that all you know?”</p> + +<p>“That’s all,” replied Trant curtly.</p> + +<p>“Never heard of Sheppard’s White Palace, did +you? Don’t know that when you speak to one of +those old boys of thirty years ago—the coterie, you +called them—about Mr. Stephen Sheppard, the +thought that comes into his head is, ‘Oh! you mean +Steve Sheppard, the gambler!’ Thirty years ago, +more or less, we were making our money to buy +those lots in a liquor palace and gambling hell—Neal +and I and Jim Tyler’s father—old Jim.”</p> + +<p>“There were more than just Neal and old Tyler and +me, though,” he burst on, pacing the length of the +rug beside Trant’s desk and not looking at his +consultant at all. “There were the Findlays +besides—Enoch, who was up in the woods with us, he gets his +picture in the paper every six months or so for +paying a thousand dollars for a thousand-year-old cent +piece; and Enoch’s brother, and Chapin, whom we’re +going to meet in a few minutes. We ran a square +game—as square as any; understand that! But we +had every other devilment that comes even to a square +gambling house in a wide open town—fights, suicide, +and—murder.”</p> + +<p>He broke off, meeting Trant’s quick and questioning +glance for a fraction of an instant with a steely +glitter of his gray-green eyes.</p> + +<p>“Sure—murder!” he repeated with rougher +defiance. “Men shot themselves and, a good deal +oftener, shot each other in our house or somewhere +else, on account of what went on there. But we +got things passed up a deal easier in those days, and +we seldom bothered ourselves about a little shooting +till—well, the habit spread to us. I mean, one night +one of us—Len Findlay it was—was shot under +conditions that made it certain that one of us other +five—Tyler, or Chapin, or Enoch Findlay, his +brother, or Neal, or I, must have shot him. You +see, a pleasant thing to drop into our happy family! +Made it certain only to us, of course; we got it passed +up as a suicide with the police. And that wasn’t all; +for as soon afterward as it was safe to have another +‘suicide,’ old Jim Tyler was shot; and this time we +knew it was either Enoch Findlay or—I told you I +wouldn’t mince matters—or Neal. That broke up +the game and the partnership—”</p> + +<p>“Wait, wait!” Trant interrupted. “Do you mean +me to understand that your brother shot Tyler?”</p> + +<p>“I mean you to understand just what I said,” the +old man’s straight lips closed tightly under his short +white mustache; “for I’ve seen too much trouble +come out of just words to be careless with them. +Either Enoch or Neal shot Jim; I don’t know which.”</p> + +<p>“In retaliation, because he thought Tyler had shot +Len Findlay?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps; but I never thought so, and I don’t +think so now,” Sheppard returned decisively. “For +old Jim Tyler was the least up to that sort of thing +of any of us—a tongue-tied, inoffensive old +fellow—and he was dealer in our games; but outside of +that Jim didn’t have nerve enough to handle his own +money. But for some reason Neal seemed sure it was +old Jim who had shot Len, and he made Enoch Findlay +believe it, too. So, no matter who actually fired +the bullet, it was Neal. Well, it was up to me to look +after old Jim’s widow and his boy. That was necessary; +for after Jim was dead, I found a funny thing. +He had taken his share with the rest of us in the profits +of the game; and the rest of us were getting rich by +that time—for we weren’t any of us gamblers; not +in the way of playing it back into the game, that is; +but though I had always supposed that Jim was +buying his land like the rest—and his widow told me +so, too—I found nothing when he was dead!”</p> + +<p>“But you implied just now,” Trant put in again +quickly, “that Tyler might have had someone else +investing for him. Did you look into that at the +time?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I asked them all, but no one knew anything. +But we’re coming to that,” the old man answered +impatiently. “I wanted you to see how it was that I +began to look after young Jim and take an interest +in him and do things for him till—till he became +what he was to me. Neal never liked my looking +after the boy from the first; we quarreled about it +time and again, and especially after young Jim began +growing up and Neal’s girl was growing up, too; and +a year or so ago, when he began seeing that Leigh +was caring for young Jim more than for anyone else, +in spite of what he said, Neal hated the boy worse. +He forbade him his house; and he did a good many +other things against him, and the reason for all of +it even I couldn’t make out until this last hunt.”</p> + +<p>The old sportsman stood still now, picked up his +fur cap and thoughtfully began drawing on his big +gloves.</p> + +<p>“We had gone up this year, as of course you know +from the papers, into the Ontario reserve, just north +of the Temagami region, for deer and moose. The +season is good there, but short, closing the middle of +November. Then we were going to cross into Quebec +where the season stays till January. Young Jim +Tyler wasn’t with us, for this hunt was a sort of +exclusive fixture just for the old ones, Neal and I, +Findlay and Chapin. But this time, the second day +in camp, young Jim Tyler comes running in upon us—or +rather, in on me, for I was the only one in camp +that day, laid up with a bad ankle. He had his gun +with him, one of our new Sheppard-Tylers which we +were all trying out for the first time this year. But +he hadn’t followed us for moose. He’d come to see +Neal. For the people that had bought his father’s +old house had been tearing it down to make room for +a business building, and they’d found some papers +between the floors which they’d given to young Jim, +and that was what sent him after us, hot after Neal. +He showed them to me; and I understood.</p> + +<p>“You see, the only real objection that Neal had +been able to keep against young Jim was that he was +a pauper—penniless but for me. And these papers +Jim had were notes and memorandum which showed +why Jim was a pauper and who had made him that, +and how Neal himself had got the better half of old +Jim’s best properties. For the papers were private +notes and memoranda of money that old Jim Tyler +had given Neal to invest in land for him; among +them a paper in Neal’s writing acknowledging old +Jim’s half interest in Neal’s best lots. Then there +were some personal memorandum of Tyler’s stuck +with these, part of which we couldn’t make out, except +that it had to do with the shooting of Len Findlay; +but the rest was clear—showed clear that, just +before he was shot, old Jim Tyler had become afraid +of Neal and was trying to make him convert his +papers into regular titles and take his things out of +Neal’s hands.</p> + +<p>“I saw, of course, that young Jim must know everything +then; so the only thing I could do was to stop +him from hunting up Neal that morning and in that +mood with a gun in his hand. But he laughed at me; +said I ought to know he hadn’t come to kill Leigh’s +father, but only to force a different understanding +then and there; and his gun might come in handy—but +he would keep his head as well as his gun. But +he didn’t. For though he didn’t find Neal then, he +came across Findlay and Chapin and blurted it all out +to them, so that they stayed with him till he promised +to go home, which he didn’t do either; for one of our +Indians, coming up the trail early next morning with +supplies, met him only half a dozen miles from camp. +Jim said he’d laid up over night because of the +snowstorm, but didn’t come back to camp because he didn’t +want to see Neal after the promise he’d made. And +there <em>had</em> been a big snow that night. Chapin and +Findlay didn’t get in till all hours because of it; Chapin +about eleven, Findlay not till near two, dead beat out +from tramping through the new snow; and Neal—he +never got in at all.</p> + +<p>“I stayed four days after that looking for Neal; +but we couldn’t find him. Then I left Chapin with +the Indians to keep on searching, while I came down, +more to see Jim, you understand, than to break the +news to Leigh. Jim admitted he’d stayed near camp +till the next morning but denied he’d even seen Neal, +and denied it so strongly that he fooled me into giving +him the benefit of the doubt until last night; and +then Chapin wired me they had found Neal’s body, +and to meet them with a detective, as they have plain +evidence against young Jim that he murdered my +brother!”</p> + +<p>The old man stopped suddenly, and his eyes shifted +from Trant to the clock. “That’s all,” he concluded +abruptly. “Not much psychology in that, is there? +My car is waiting down stairs.”</p> + +<p>He pulled the fur cap down upon his ears, and +Trant had time only to throw on his coat and catch +his client in the hall, as Sheppard walked toward the +elevators. The chauffeur, at sight of them, opened +the limousine body of the car, and Sheppard got in +with Trant, leaving the man this time to guide the +car through the streets.</p> + +<p>“There’s where the Palace stood; Neal owns the +lot still, and has made two re-buildings on it,” he +motioned toward a towering office structure as the car +slowed at the Clark Street crossing. Then, as they +stopped a moment later at the Polk Street Station, +he laid a muscular hand upon the door, drove it open +and sprang out, leaving Trant inside. The clock in +the tower showed just half past eight, and he hurried +into the train shed. Ten minutes later he reappeared, +leading a plump, almost roly-poly man, with a round +face, fiery red from exposure to the weather, who +was buttoned from chin to shoe tops in an ulster and +wore a fur cap like his own. Behind them with +noiseless, woodland tread glided a full-blooded Indian, +in corduroy trousers and coat blotched with many +forest stains, carrying carefully a long leather +gun-case and cartridge belt.</p> + +<p>“This is Chapin, Trant,” Sheppard introduced them, +having evidently spoken briefly of the psychologist +to Chapin in the station; “and McLain,” he motioned +toward the Indian.</p> + +<p>He stepped after them into the limousine, and as +the car jerked and halted through the crowded city +streets back toward his home, he lifted his eyes to the +round-faced man opposite him.</p> + +<p>“Where was it, Chapin?” he asked abruptly.</p> + +<p>“In Bowton’s mining shack, Steve.”</p> + +<p>“What! what!”</p> + +<p>“You say the body was found in a miner’s cabin, +Mr. Chapin,” the psychologist broke in, in crisp +tones. “Do you mean the miners live in the cabin +and carried him in there after he was shot?”</p> + +<p>“No, it is an abandoned mine, Mr. Trant. He was +in the deserted cabin when shot down—shot like a +dog, Steve!”</p> + +<p>“For God’s sake, let’s drop this till we get to the +house!” Sheppard burst out suddenly, and Trant fell +back, still keenly observant and attentive, while the +big car swept swiftly through the less crowded streets. +Only twice Sheppard leaned forward, with forced +calmness and laconic comment, to point out some sight +to the Indian; and once he nodded absently when, +passing a meat shop with deer hung beside its doors, +the Indian—finding this the first object on which he +dared to comment—remarked that the skins were being +badly torn. Then the motor stopped before twin, +stately, gray-stone houses facing the lake, where a +single broad flight of steps led to two entrance doors +which bore ornate door plates, one the name of +Stephen, the other Neal, Sheppard.</p> + +<p>Sheppard led the way through the hall into a wide, +high trophy and smoking-room which occupied a bay +of the first floor back of the dining-room, and himself +shut the door firmly, after Chapin and Trant and +the Indian, still carefully carrying the gun-case, had +entered.</p> + +<p>“Now tell me,” he commanded Chapin and the +Indian equally, “exactly how you found him.”</p> + +<p>“Neal had plainly taken refuge in the cabin from +the snowstorm, Steve,” Chapin replied almost +compassionately. “He was in his stocking feet, and his +shooting-coat and cartridge-belt still lay on the straw +in one of the bunks where he had been sleeping. The +man, it seems clear, entered through the outer door +of the mess cabin, which opens into the bunk-room +through a door at its other end. Neal heard him, +we suppose, and picking up his shoes and gun, went +to see who it was; and the man, standing near the +outer door, shot him down as he came through the +other—four shots, Steve; two missed.”</p> + +<p>“Four shots, and in the cabin!” Sheppard turned +to the Indian almost in appeal; but at McLain’s nod +his square chin set firmly. “You were right in +telegraphing me it was murder!”</p> + +<p>“Two hit—one here; one here,” the Indian touched +his right shoulder and then the center of his +forehead.</p> + +<p>“How do you know the man who shot him stood by +the outer door?” Trant interrupted.</p> + +<p>“McLain found the shells ejected from his rifle,” +Chapin answered; and the Indian took from his pocket +five cartridges—four empty, one still loaded. “Man +shooting kill with four shots and throw last from +magazine there beside it,” he explained. “Not have need +it. I find on floor with empty shells.”</p> + +<p>“I see.” Sheppard took the shells and examined +them tensely. He went to his drawer and took out a +single fresh cartridge and compared it carefully with +the empty shells and the unfired cartridge the Indian +had found with them, before he handed them, still +more tensely, to Trant. “They are all Sheppard-Tyler’s, +Trant, which we were just trying out for the +first time ourselves. No one else had them, no one +else could possibly have them, besides ourselves, but +Jim! But the gun-case, Chapin,” he turned toward +the burden the Indian had carried. “Why have you +brought that?”</p> + +<p>“It’s just Neal’s gun that we found in his hand, +Steve,” Chapin replied sympathetically, “and his +cartridge-belt that was in the bunk.”</p> + +<p>The Indian unstrapped the case and took out the +gun. Then he took from another pocket a single +empty shell, this time, and four full ones, three of +which he put into the magazine of the rifle, and +extended it to Chapin.</p> + +<p>“Neal had time to try twice for Ji—for the other +fellow, Steve,” Chapin explained, “for he wasn’t +killed till the fourth shot. But Neal’s first shell,” he +pointed to the pierced primer of the cartridge he had +taken from the Indian, “missed fire, you see; and he +was hit so hard before he could shoot the other,” he +handed over the shell, “that it must have gone wild. +Its recoil threw the next cartridge in place all right, +as McLain has it now,” he handed over the gun, “but +Neal couldn’t ever pull the trigger on it then.”</p> + +<p>“I see.” Sheppard’s teeth clenched tight again, as +he examined the faulty cartridge his brother had tried +to shoot, the empty shell, and the three cartridges left +intact in the rifle. He handed them after the others +to Trant. And for an instant more his green-gray +eyes, growing steadily colder and more merciless, +watched the silent young psychologist as he weighed +again and again and sorted over, without comment, +the shells that had slain Neal Sheppard; and weighed +again in his fingers the one the murderer had not +needed to use. Then Trant turned suddenly to the +cartridge-belt the Indian held, and taking out one shell +compared it with the others.</p> + +<p>“They are different?” he said inquiringly.</p> + +<p>“Only that these are full metal-patched bullets, +like the one I showed you from the drawer, while +those in Neal’s belt are soft-nosed,” Sheppard +answered immediately. “We had both kinds in camp, +for we were making the first real trial of the new gun; +but we used only the soft-nosed in hunting. They are +Sheppard-Tyler’s, Trant—all of them; and that is +the one important thing and enough of itself to settle +the murderer!”</p> + +<p>“But can you understand, Mr. Sheppard, even if +the man who shot the four shells found he didn’t need +the fifth,”—the young psychologist held up the single, +unshot shell which the Indian had found near the +door—“why he should throw it there? And more +particularly I can’t make out why—” He checked himself +and swung from his client to the Indian as the perplexity +which had filled his face when he first handled +the shells gave way to the quick flush of energetic +action.</p> + +<p>“Suppose this were the mess-room of the cabin, +McLain,” he gestured to the trophy-room, as he shot +out his question; “can you show me how it was +arranged and what you found there?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes;” the Indian turned to the end wall and +pointed, “there the door to outside; on floor near it, +four empty shells, one full one.” He stalked to a +corner at the opposite end. “Here door to bunk-room. +Here,” he stopped and touched his fingers to +the floor, “Neal Sheppard’s shoes where he drop +them. Here,” he rose and touched the wall in two +spots about the height of a man’s head above the floor, +“bullet hole, and bullet hole, when he miss.”</p> + +<p>“What! what!” cried Trant, “two bullet holes +above the shoes?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; so.”</p> + +<p>“And the body—that lay near the shoes?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no; the body here!” the Indian moved along +the end wall almost to the other corner. “One shell +beside it that miss fire, one empty shell. Neal +Sheppard’s matchbox—that empty, too—on floor. +Around body burned matches.”</p> + +<p>“Burned matches around the body?” Trant echoed +in still greater excitement.</p> + +<p>“Yes; and on body.”</p> + +<p>“On it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; man, after he shot, go to him and burn +matches—I think—to see him dead.”</p> + +<p>“Then they must have shot in the dark!” Trant’s +excited face flushed red with sudden and complete +comprehension. “Of course, dolt that I was! With +these shells in my hand, I should have guessed it! +That is as plain a reason for this peculiar distribution +of the shells as it is for the matches which, as the +Indian says, the man must have taken from your +brother’s match-box to look at him and make sure he +was dead.” He had whirled to face his client. “It +was all shot in the dark.”</p> + +<p>“Shot in the dark!” Sheppard echoed. He seemed +to have caught none of the spirit of his young adviser’s +new comprehension; but, merely echoing his words, +had turned from him and stared steadily out of the +window to the street; and as he stared, thinking of +his brother shot down in darkness by an unseen enemy, +his eyes, cold and merciless before, began to glow +madly with his slow but—once aroused—obstinate +and pitiless anger.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Trant;” he turned back suddenly, “I do not +deny that when I called for you this morning, instead +of getting a detective from the city police as Chapin +expected, it was not to hang Jim Tyler, as I pretended, +but with a determination to give him every chance +that was coming to him after I had to go against him. +But he gave Neal none—none!—and it’s no matter +what Neal did to his father; I’m keeping you here +now to help me hang him! And Chapin! when I +ordered Tyler’s arrest, I told the police I’d prefer +charges against him this morning, but he seems +impatient. He’s coming here with Captain Crowley +from the station now,” he continued with short, sharp +distinctness. “So let him in, Chapin—I don’t care +to trust myself at the door—Jim’s come for it, +and—I’ll let him have it!”</p> + +<p>“You mean you are going to charge him with murder +now, before that officer, Mr. Sheppard?” Trant +moved quickly before his client, as Chapin obediently +went toward the door. “Don’t,” he warned tersely.</p> + +<p>“Don’t? Why?”</p> + +<p>“The first bullet in your brother’s gun that +failed—the other three—the one which the other fellow +did not even try to shoot,” Trant enumerated almost +breathlessly, as he heard the front door open. “Do +they mean nothing to you?”</p> + +<p>And putting between his strong even teeth the +cartridge with its primer pierced which had failed in +Neal Sheppard’s gun, he tore out the bullet with a +single wrench and held the shell down. “See! it +was empty, Mr. Sheppard! That was the first one +in your brother’s gun! That was why it didn’t go +off! And this—the last one the other man had, the +one he didn’t even try to shoot,” Trant jerked out +the bullet from it too with another wrench of his +teeth—“was empty as well. See! And the other +man knew it; that was why he didn’t even try to shoot +it, but ejected it on the floor as it was!”</p> + +<p>“How did you guess that? And how did you +know that the other cartridge, the one Jim—the +other fellow—didn’t even try to fire—wasn’t +loaded, too?” Sheppard now checked short in +surprise, stupefied and amazed, gazed, with the other +white-haired man and the Indian, at the empty shells.</p> + +<p>But Trant went on swiftly: “Are Sheppard-Tyler +shells so poorly loaded, Mr. Sheppard, that two out +of ten of them are bad? And not only two, but +this—and this—and this,” at each word he dropped +on the table another shell, “the three left in your +brother’s rifle. For these others are bad—unloaded, +too! So that even if he had been able to pull the +trigger on them, they would have failed like the first; +and I know that for the same reason that I know +about the first ones. Five out of ten shells of +Sheppard-Tyler loading ‘accidentally’ with no powder in +them. That is too much for you—for anyone—to +believe, Mr. Sheppard! And that was why I said +to you a moment ago, as I say again, don’t charge +that young man out there with murder!”</p> + +<p>“You mean,” Sheppard gasped, “that Jim did not +kill Neal?”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t say that,” Trant returned sharply. “But +your brother was not shot down in cold-blooded +murder; I’m sure of that! Whether Jim Tyler, or +another, shot him, I can not yet say; but I hope soon to +prove. For there were only four men in the woods +who had Sheppard-Tyler guns; and he must have been +shot either by Tyler, or Findlay, or Chapin, or—to +open all the possibilities—by yourself, Mr. +Sheppard!” the psychologist continued boldly.</p> + +<p>“Who? Me?” roared Chapin in fiery indignation.</p> + +<p>“What—what’s that you’re saying?” The old +sportsman stood staring at his young adviser, half in +outrage, half in astonishment.</p> + +<p>Then, staring at the startling display of the empty +shells—whose meaning was as yet as incomprehensible +to him as the means by which the psychologist had +so suddenly detected them—and dazed by Trant’s +sudden and equally incomprehensible defense of young +Tyler after he had detected them, he weakened. +“I—I’m afraid. I don’t understand what you mean, +Mr. Trant!” he said helplessly; then, irritated by his +own weakness, he turned testily toward the door: “I +wonder what is keeping them out there?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Trant says,” Chapin burst out angrily, “that +either you or I is as likely to have shot Neal as young +Jim! But Mr. Trant is crazy; we’ll have young +Jim in here and prove it!” and he threw open the +door.</p> + +<p>But it was not young Tyler, but a girl, tall and +blond, with a lithe, straight figure almost like a boy’s, +but with her fine, clear-cut features deadly pale, and +with her gray eyes—straight and frank, like Sheppard’s, +but much deeper and softer—full of grief and +terror, who stood first in the doorway.</p> + +<p>“Leigh! So it was you keeping them out there! +Leigh,” her uncle’s voice trembled as he spoke to the +girl, “what are you doing here?”</p> + +<p>“No; what are you doing, uncle?” the girl asked +in clear, fearless tones. “Or rather, I mean, what +have Mr. Chapin and this guide and this—this +gentleman,” she looked toward Trant and the gun +Sheppard had handed him, “come here for this morning? +And why have they brought Jim here—this way?” +She moved aside a little, as though to let Trant see +behind her the set and firm, but also very pale, features +of young Tyler and the coarser face of the red-haired +police officer. “I know,” she continued, as her uncle +still stood speechless, “that it must have something +to do with my father; for Jim could not deny it. But +what—what is it,” she appealed again, with the +terror gleaming in her eyes which told, even to Trant, +that she must half suspect, “that brings you all here +this way this morning, and Jim too?”</p> + +<p>“Run over home again, my dear,” the uncle stooped +and kissed her clumsily. “Run back home now, for +you can’t come in.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; you’ll go back home now, won’t you, +Leigh?” Tyler touched her hand.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you had better let Miss Sheppard in for +a moment first, Mr. Tyler,” Trant suggested. “For, +in regard to what she seems to fear, I have only +encouragement for her.”</p> + +<p>“You mean you—” Tyler’s pale, defiant lips parted +impulsively, but he quickly checked himself.</p> + +<p>“I am not afraid to ask it, Jim,” the girl this time +sought his fingers with her own. “Do you mean +you—are not here to try to connect Jim with +the—disappearance of my father?”</p> + +<p>“No, Miss Sheppard,” Trant replied steadily, while +the eyes of the two older men were fixed upon him +scarcely less intently than the girl’s; “and I have +asked you to come in a moment, because I feel safe in +assuring you that Mr. Tyler can not have been +connected with the disappearance of your father in the +way they have made you fear. And more than that, +it is quite possible that within a few moments I will +be able to prove that he is clear of any connection with +it whatever—quite possible, Miss Sheppard. That +was all I wanted to tell you.”</p> + +<p>“Who are you?” the girl cried. “And can you +make my uncle believe that, too? Do you think I +haven’t known, uncle, what you thought when Jim +went up there after you and—father was lost? I +know that what you suspect is impossible; but,” she +turned to Trant again, “can you make my uncle +believe that, too?”</p> + +<p>“Your uncle, though he seemed to forget the fact +a moment ago, has retained me precisely to clear Mr. +Tyler from the circumstantial evidence that seemed so +conclusive against him,” said Trant, with a warning +glance at the amazed Sheppard, “and I strongly hope +that I will be able to do so.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I did not understand! I will wait upstairs, +then,” the girl turned from Trant to Sheppard in +bewilderment, touched Tyler’s arm as she brushed by +him in the door, and left them.</p> + +<p>“Thank you for your intention in making it easier +for her—whoever you are—even if you have to +take it back later,” Tyler said grimly to the +psychologist. “But since Crowley has told me,” he turned +now to Sheppard, “that it was you who ordered him +to arrest me at the club this morning, I suppose, now +that Leigh is gone, that means that you have found +your brother shot as he deserved and as you expected +and—you think I did it!”</p> + +<p>“Morning, Mr. Sheppard,” the red-haired police +captain nodded. “Morning, Mr. Trant; giving us +some more of the psycho-palmistry? Considerable +water’s gone past the mill since you put an electric +battery on Caylis, the Bronson murderer, and proved +him guilty just as we were getting ready to send +Kanlan up for the crime. As for this young man,” he +motioned with his thumb toward Tyler, “I took him in +because Mr. Sheppard asked it; but as Mr. Sheppard +didn’t make any charge against him, and this Tyler +wanted to come up here, I brought him on myself, not +hearing from Mr. Sheppard. I suppose now it’s Mr. +Neal Sheppard’s death, after seeing the morning papers +and hearing the young lady.”</p> + +<p>“Just so, Captain Crowley,” said Trant brusquely, +“but we’ll let Mr. Sheppard make his charge or not +make it, just as he sees fit, after we get through with +the little test we’re going to carry out. And I am +greatly mistaken, if, after we are through, he will +bring any such charge as you have suggested. But +come in, Captain; I am glad that you are here. The +test I am going to make may seem so trivial to these +gentlemen that I am glad to have a practical man like +yourself here who has seen more in such a test as the +one I am going to make now, than can appear on the +surface.”</p> + +<p>“ ‘More than appears on the surface’ is the word, +Mr. Trant,” the captain cried impulsively. “Mr. +Sheppard, it’s myself has told you about Mr. Trant +before; and I’ll back anything he does to the limit, +since I see him catch the Bronson murderer, as I just +told you, by a one-cell battery that would not ring a +door bell.”</p> + +<p>“I shall ask you to bear that in mind, if you will, +Mr. Sheppard and Mr. Chapin,” the psychologist +smiled slightly as he looked about the room, and then +crossed over to the mantel and took from it five of the +six small stone steins with silver tops which stood +there. “Particularly as I have not here even the regular +apparatus for the test, but must rather improvise. +If I had you in my offices or in the psychological +laboratory fitted with that regular apparatus I could prove +in an instant which of you, if any, was the one who +shot these four cartridges to kill Neal Sheppard, and +discarded this fifth,” he touched again the shells on the +table. “But, as I said, I hope we can manage here.”</p> + +<p>“Which of us?” Chapin echoed. “So you’re +going to try me, too?” He raised a plump fist and +shook it angrily under Trant’s nose. “You think I +did it?”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t say so, Mr. Chapin,” Trant replied +pacificatingly. “I said there were excellent chances that +Mr. Tyler was not the one who did the shooting; so if +that is so, it must have been done by one of the other +men who carried Sheppard-Tyler rifles. I thought of +you merely as one of those; and as the test I am about +to try upon Mr. Tyler would be as simple and efficient +a test to determine your connection—or lack of +connection—with this shooting, I shall ask you to take +it after Mr. Tyler, if necessary.”</p> + +<p>He raised the tops of the steins, as he spoke, peered +into them to see they were empty; then put into his +pocket the good shell which he had taken from the +belt the Indian had given him, and picked up the five +little covered cups again.</p> + +<p>“As I have a stop second hand to my watch, Mr. +Sheppard,” he continued, “all I need now is some +shot—ordinary bird shot, or small shot of any size.”</p> + +<p>“Shot?” Sheppard stared at the steins crazily, but +catching Captain Crowley’s equally uncomprehending +but admiringly confident eyes, he nodded, “of course. +You will find all the shot you can want in the gun +cabinet in the corner.”</p> + +<p>Trant crossed to the cabinet and opened the drawer. +He returned in less than a minute, as they stood +exchanging curious glances, and placed five steins in a +row on the table before him.</p> + +<p>“Please take up the middle one now, Mr. Tyler,” +he requested, as he took out his watch. “Thank you. +Now the one to the right of it; and tell me, is it the +same weight as the other, or heavier, or lighter?”</p> + +<p>“The same weight or lighter—perhaps a little +lighter,” Tyler answered readily. “But what of it? +What is this?” he asked curiously.</p> + +<p>“Take up the middle stein again.” Trant, disregarding +his question, glanced at the time interval on +his watch; “the first stein you picked up, Mr. Tyler; +and then take up the remaining three in any order, and +tell me, as quickly as you can, whether they seem the +same weight, lighter or heavier to you. Thank you,” +he acknowledged noncommittally again, as Tyler +acquiesced, his wonder at so extraordinary a test +increasing.</p> + +<p>The psychologist glanced over the list of answers +he had noted on a slip of paper with the time taken for +each. Then he gathered up the five steins without +comment and redistributed them on the table.</p> + +<p>“It looks bright for you, Mr. Tyler,” he commented +calmly; “but I will ask you to go over the steins +again;” and a second, and then a third time, he made +Tyler take up all five steins in turn and tell him whether +each seemed the same weight, lighter or heavier than +the first he handled.</p> + +<p>“What’s all this tomfoolery with steins got to do +with who shot Neal Sheppard?” Chapin blurted out +contemptuously. But when he turned for concurrence +to Stephen Sheppard, he found the old sportsman’s +anxious gaze again fixed on the intent face of the +police captain who once before, by his own admission, +had seen Trant pick a murderer by incomprehensible +work, and his own contempt as well gave place to +apprehensive wonder at what might lurk behind this +apparently childish experiment.</p> + +<figure id="illus7"> + <img src="images/illus7.jpg" alt="In a trophy-room three men stand + around a small round table, one writing in a notebook. On the + table are several large lidded steins and a small pile of + shotgun shells. The man on the right is carefully lifting two of + the steins. Several men stand further back and watch over the + proceedings."> + <figcaption>“What’s all this tomfoolery with steins got to do with + who shot Neal Sheppard?” Chapin blurted out + contemptuously</figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>“You ask what this means, Mr. Chapin?” Trant +looked up as he finished his notes. “It has made me +certain that Mr. Tyler, at least, is guiltless of the crime +of which he has been suspected. As to who shot Neal +Sheppard, if you will kindly take up those steins just +as you have seen him do, perhaps I can tell you.”</p> + +<p>For the fraction of an instant Chapin halted; then, +as under direct gaze of the psychologist, he reached +out to pick up the first stein in the test, whose very +seeming triviality made it the more incomprehensible +to him, the sweat broke out on the backs of his hands; +but he answered stoutly:</p> + +<p>“That’s heavier; the same; this lighter; and this the +same again.”</p> + +<p>And again: “The same; heavier; lighter; the same! +Now, what’s the answer?”</p> + +<p>“That my feeling which you forced upon me to +make me choose you—I admit it—for the rôle you +were so willing to assign to Tyler, Mr. Chapin, would +probably have made me waste valuable time, if I had +not been able to correct it, scientifically, as easily as +I confirmed my other feeling in Tyler’s favor. For +there can be no question now that you had no more +to do with the shooting of Neal Sheppard than he had. +I must make still another test to determine the man +who fired these shots.”</p> + +<p>“You mean you want to try <em>me</em>?” Sheppard +demanded, uneasy and astounded.</p> + +<p>“I would rather test the other man first, Mr. Sheppard; +the fourth man who was in the woods with you,” +Trant corrected calmly.</p> + +<p>“<em>Findlay?</em>”</p> + +<p>The psychologist, as he looked around, saw in the +faces of Sheppard, Chapin, and young Tyler alike, +indignant astonishment.</p> + +<p>“You don’t know Findlay, Mr. Trant,” Sheppard +said roughly, losing confidence again in spite of +Crowley; “or you would understand that he is the last man +among us who could be suspected. Enoch is a regular +hermit—what they call a ‘recluse’! Only once a +year are we able to get him to tear himself away from +his musty old house and his collections of coins, and +then only for old sake’s sake, to go to the north woods +with us. Your crazy test with the steins has led you +a long way off the track if you think it’s Findlay.”</p> + +<p>“It has led me inevitably to the conclusion that, if +it was one of you four men, it was either Findlay or +yourself, Mr. Sheppard,” Trant asserted firmly. +“You yourself know best whether it is necessary to +test him.”</p> + +<p>Sheppard stared at the obstinate young psychologist +for a full minute. “At least,” he said finally with +the same roughness, “we can keep young Jim still in +custody.” He looked at the police officer, who nodded. +Then he went to the house telephone on the wall, spoke +shortly into it, and turned:</p> + +<p>“I’ll take you to Findlay, Trant. I’ve called the +motor.”</p> + +<p>Five minutes later the little party in the trophy-room +broke up—Tyler, under the watch of Captain +Crowley, going to the police station, but as yet +without charge against him; Chapin going about his own +business; Trant and his client speeding swiftly down +the boulevard in the big motor.</p> + +<p>“You want to stop at your office, I suppose,” Sheppard +asked, “for you haven’t brought the steins you +used in your test with us?”</p> + +<p>“Yes—but no,” Trant suddenly recollected; “you +have mentioned once or twice that Findlay is a +collector of coins—a numismatist.”</p> + +<p>“The craziest in Chicago.”</p> + +<p>“Then if you’ll drop me for a minute at Swift and +Walton’s curio shop in Randolph Street that will be +enough.”</p> + +<p>Sheppard glanced at his young adviser wonderingly; +and looked more wonderingly still when Trant came +out from the curio shop jingling a handful of silver +coins, which he showed quietly.</p> + +<p>“They’re silver florins of one of the early Swiss +states,” he exclaimed; “borrowed of Swift and +Walton, by means of a deposit, and guaranteed to make a +collector sit up and take notice. They’ll get me an +interview with Mr. Findlay, I hope, without the need +of an introduction. So if you will point out the house +to me and let me out a block or so from it, I will go +in first.”</p> + +<p>“And what do you want me to do?” asked +Sheppard, startled.</p> + +<p>“Come in a few minutes later; meet him as you +would naturally. Your brother’s body has been +found; tell him about it. You suspect young Tyler; +tell him that also. Maybe he can help you. You need +not recognize me until I see I want you; but my work, +I trust, will be done before you get there.”</p> + +<p>“Enoch Findlay help me?” queried Sheppard in +perplexity. “You mean help me to trace Neal’s +murderer. But it is you who said because, against +all reason, you suspect Enoch, Mr. Trant, that we have +come here! For there’s the house,” he pointed. And +Trant, not making any answer, leaped out as the car +was slowing, and left him.</p> + +<p>The big old Michigan avenue dwelling, Trant saw at +a glance, was in disrepair; but from inattention, the +psychologist guessed, not from lack of money. The +maid who opened the door was a slattern. The hall, +with its mingled aroma of dust and cooking, spoke eloquently +of the indifference of the house’s chief occupant; +and the musty front room, with its coin cases and +curios, was as unlike the great light and airy “den” +where Stephen Sheppard hung his guns and skins and +antlers, as the man whom Trant rose to greet was +unlike his friend, the hale and ruddy old sportsman.</p> + +<p>As Trant looked over this man, whose great height—six +feet four or five inches—was reduced at least +three inches by the studious stoop of his shoulders; as +he took note of his worn and careless clothing and his +feet forced into bulging slippers; as he saw the parchment +skin, and met the eyes, so light in color that the +iris could scarcely be detected from the whites, like +the unpainted eyes of a statue, he appreciated the +surprise that Findlay’s former partners, Sheppard and +Chapin, had experienced at the suggestion that this +might be the murderer.</p> + +<p>“I shall ask only a little of your time, Mr. Findlay,” +Trant put his hand into his pocket for his coins, +as though the proffered hand of the other had been +extended for them. “I have come to ask your estimate, +as an expert, upon a few coins which I have recently +picked up. I have been informed that you can +better advise me as to their value than any other +collector in Chicago. My coins seem to be of the early +Swiss states.”</p> + +<p>“Early Swiss coins are almost as rare as Swiss +ships in the present day, sir.” Findlay took the round +bits of silver with the collector’s intense absorption, +which made him forget that he had not even asked +his visitor’s name. “And these are exceptionally rare +and interesting pieces. I have never seen but one +other of these which I am fortunate enough to +possess. They are all the same, I see,” he sifted them +swiftly one after the other into his palm. +“But—what’s this—what’s this?” he cried with sudden +disappointment as he took the top ones up separately for +more individual examination. “I hope you have not +paid too great a price for these.” He went to one of +his cases and, opening it, took out an exact duplicate +of Trant’s coin. “For see!” he weighed the two +accurately in his fingers; “this first one of yours +compares most favorably with this specimen of mine, +which is unquestionably genuine. But this—this—this +and this; ah, yes; and this, too”—he sorted over +the others swiftly and picked out five—“are certainly +lighter and I’m afraid they are counterfeit. But +where are my scales?”</p> + +<p>“Lighter?” Trant repeated, in apparent +bewilderment.</p> + +<p>“The correct coin, you see,” the collector replied, +tossing his own silver pieces into his scales, “should be +over 400 grains—almost an ounce. But these,” he +placed the ten pieces one after the other on the +balance, too absorbed to notice the ringing of the door +bell, “the five I feared for, are quite light—twenty +grains at least, you see?” He reweighed them once +more, carefully.</p> + +<p>“That is certainly most interesting.” Trant grimly +looked up at the expert as though trying to deny a +disappointment. “But it is quite worth having the +five coins light, to witness the facility with which an +expert like yourself can pick them out, unerringly, +without fail—barely twenty grains difference in four +hundred.”</p> + +<p>He looked up, still betraying only astonishment. +But Findlay’s face, after the first flush of his +collector’s absorption, had suddenly grown less cordial.</p> + +<p>“I did not get your name, sir,” he started; then +turned, at the opening of the door behind him, to face +Stephen Sheppard.</p> + +<p>“Findlay!” the sportsman cried, scarcely waiting +for the servant who had admitted him to vanish, and +not appearing to notice Trant at all. “They’ve found +Neal’s body! In Bowton’s mining shack—murdered, +Enoch, murdered! We’ll have young Jim Tyler up +for it! Unless,” he hesitated, and looked at Trant, +and added, as though the compelling glance of the +psychologist constrained him to it, “unless you know +something that will help him, Enoch!”</p> + +<p>“Hush, Steve! Hush!” the coin collector fell back +upon the chair, beside his desk, with an anxious glance +at the psychologist. “I have a man here.” He gathered +himself together. “And what is it possible that +I could tell to save young Jim?”</p> + +<p>“You might tell <em>why</em>, Mr. Findlay,” Trant said +sharply, nerving himself for the coming struggle, “for +I know already <em>how</em> you shot Neal Sheppard +yourself!”</p> + +<p>But no struggle came.</p> + +<p>“What—you?” Findlay burst from his pale lips; +then caught the recognition of this stranger in +Sheppard’s face and fell back—trapped.</p> + +<p>He clasped his hands convulsively together and +stretched them out before him on the desk. In his +cheek something beat and beat with ceaseless pulse.</p> + +<p>“Murdered, Steve?” the latent fire seemed fanned +in Findlay at last. “But first”—he seemed to check +something short on his lips—“who are you? And +why,” he turned to Trant, “why did you come to me +with those coins? I mean—how much do you +know?”</p> + +<p>“I am retained by Mr. Sheppard in this case,” +Trant replied, “and only turned coin collector to prove +how you picked out those shells with which you shot +Neal Sheppard. And I know enough more to know +that you could not have murdered him in any right +sense, and enough to assure you that, if you tell how +you shot him to save young Tyler, you can count on +me for competent confirmation that it was not +murder.”</p> + +<p>But the tall, gaunt man, bent in his chair, seemed +scarcely to hear the psychologist’s words or even to be +conscious, longer, of his presence. When he lifted +his eyes, they gave no sign as they swept by Trant’s +figure. Findlay saw only his old partner and friend.</p> + +<p>“But you shot him, Enoch? How and why?”</p> + +<p>“How?” the Adam’s apple worked in Findlay’s +throat, and the words seemed wrenched from his lips +as though their weight were a burden too heavy for +him longer to bear. “How, Steve? I shot him as he +shot Len, my brother, thirty years ago!”</p> + +<p>“Then it was Neal that shot Len and—and started +the murder among us?” the old sportsman in his turn +sought tremblingly for a seat. “For all these years +I have known in my heart that it was done by Neal; +but, Enoch, you didn’t shoot him now because he shot +Len—thirty years ago!”</p> + +<p>“No, not because he shot Len; but because he made +me kill—made me murder old Jim Tyler for it! +Now do you understand? Neal shot Len, my brother; +and for that, perhaps I should not have shot Neal +when, at last, I found it out thirty years later. But +for that murder he did himself, <em>he made me murder +poor old Jim Tyler</em>, my best friend! So I shot him +as he made me shoot Jim Tyler. It was both or none! +Neal would be alive to-day, if Jim was!”</p> + +<p>“Neal shot Len and made you shoot old Jim Tyler +for it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I shot him, Steve! I shot old Jim—old +Jim, who was the truest friend to me of you all! I +shot old Jim, whose bed I’d shared—and for these +thirty years old Jim has never left me. There are +men like that, Steve, who do a thing in haste, and then +can’t forget. For I’m one of them. I was no kind +of a man for a murderer, Steve; I was no man for the +business we were in. Len led me—led me where I +ought never to have gone, for I hadn’t nerve like he +and you and Neal had! Then Len was shot, and Neal +came to me and told me old Jim had done it. I was +wild, Steve—wild, for I’d had a difference with Jim +and I knew Jim had had a difference with Len—over +me. So I believed it! But I had no gun. I never +carried one, you know. Neal gave me one and told +me to go and shoot him, or Jim’d shoot me, too. And +I shot old Jim—shot him in the back; that’s the kind +of man I was—no nerve. I couldn’t face him when +I did it. But I’ve faced him often enough since, God +knows! By night and by day; by foul weather or by +fair weather; for old Jim and I have got up and gone +to bed together ever since—thirty years. And it’s +made me what I am—you see, I never had the nerve. +I told you!”</p> + +<p>“But Neal, Enoch? How did you come to shoot +Neal two weeks ago—how did all that make you?” +Sheppard urged excitedly.</p> + +<p>“I’m telling you! Those two weeks ago—two +weeks ago to-day, young Jim came up into the woods +red hot; for he had the papers he showed you showing +Neal had cheated him out of money. He met Chapin +and me, too, and told us and showed us the papers. +There was one paper there that didn’t mean anything +to young Jim or to you or to Chapin, or to anyone else +that didn’t know old Jim intimately—old Jim had +his own way of putting things—but it meant a lot to +me. For all these years I’ve been telling you about—all +these years I’ve been carrying old Jim with me, +getting up and lying down with him, and whenever +he came to me, I’d been saying to him, ‘I know, Jim, +I killed you; but it was justice; you killed my brother!’ +But that paper made me know different. It made me +know it wasn’t old Jim that killed Len, Steve; it was +Neal—and Jim knew it; and that was why Neal set +me on Jim and made me kill him; because Jim knew +it! That was like Neal, wasn’t it, Steve? Never +do anything straight, Neal wouldn’t, when he could +do it crooked! He wanted to get rid of old Jim—he +owed him money and was afraid of him now, for Jim +knew he’d killed Len—and he saw a safe way to make +me do it. So then at last I knew why old Jim had +never left me, but had been following me all these +years—always with me; and I never let on to Chapin. +I just went to look for Neal. ‘This time,’ said I to +myself, ‘it’s justice!’ And—I found him sitting on +a log, with his gun behind him, a little drunk—for he +always carried a flask with him, you know—and +whistling. I couldn’t face him any more than I could +Jim, and I came up behind him. Three times I took +a bead on Neal’s back, and three times I couldn’t pull +the trigger—for he never stopped whistling, and I +knew if I shot him then I’d hear that whistling all my +life—and the third time he turned and saw me. He +must have seen the whole thing on my face; I can’t +keep anything. But he had nerve, Neal did. ‘Oh,’ +he says, ‘it’s Enoch Findlay, the murderer, shooting +in the back as usual.’ ‘I’m what you made me,’ says +I, ‘but you’ll never make any difference to another +man!’ ‘Give me a chance,’ says Neal. ‘Don’t shoot +me sitting!’ Neal had nerve, I tell you—I never +had any; but that time for once in my life, I got it. +‘Get up,’ says I, ‘and take your gun; you’ll have as +fair a chance as I will.’ But that wasn’t quite true. +I never had Neal’s nerve—I didn’t have it even then. +But I’ve always been a better shot than him; I’ve never +drunk; and he hasn’t been steady for years. So I +knew I still had the advantage; and Neal knew it, too; +but he doesn’t let on.</p> + +<p>“ ‘Thank you, Enoch,’ he says. ‘Now I’ll kill you, +of course; but while I’m doing it, maybe you’ll hit +me—no knowing; and I don’t care to have a soft-nose +bullet mushroom inside of me. Besides, wouldn’t +you rather have a clean hole—you’ve seen what the +soft-noses do to the deer!’ ‘It’s all we’ve got,’ says +I; but I guess he had me on that then. For I had seen +the game hit by soft-nose bullets; and if I had to have +him around with a bullet hole in him after I’d killed +him, I wanted a clean bullet hole anyway—not the +other kind. ‘Have you got the other kind?’ I said. +‘I’ll go to camp and get some,’ he answered. I don’t +know what was in me; I had my nerve that day—for +the first and only time in my life. I guess it was that, +Steve, and it was a new feeling and I wanted to enjoy +it. I knew there was some devilment in what he said; +but I wanted to give him every chance—yes, I enjoyed +giving the chance for more crookedness to him +before I finished him; for I knew I was going to finish +him then.</p> + +<p>“ ‘All right,’ I said, ‘I’ll wait for you in the +clearing by Bowton’s mining shack’; for I saw in his eyes +that he was afraid not to come back to me; and I +watched him go, and went over to Bowton’s and sat +down with my back against the shanty, so he couldn’t +come up and shoot me from behind, and waited. It +was dark and cloudy; he was gone four hours, and +before he got back it began to snow. It got so +that you couldn’t see ten feet in that blizzard; but I +sat outside in the snow till Neal came back; then we +went into the shack together and agreed to wait till +it was over—no man on earth could have done any +shooting in that storm then, and we knew we couldn’t +get back to camp till it was over. We sat there in the +shack, and looked at each other. Night came, and +we were still looking; only now we couldn’t see each +other any longer, but sat waiting to hear the other +moving—only neither of us moved. Then we did—slowly +and carefully. Sometimes I sat in one place, +sometimes in another, for I didn’t want him to know +just where I was for fear he’d shoot. But he was +afraid to shoot first; for if he missed, I’d see him by +the flash and get him, sure. It kept on snowing. +Once Neal said, ‘We’ll settle this thing in the +morning.’ ‘All right,’ says I—but moved again, for I +thought he would surely shoot then.</p> + +<p>“I kept wondering when my nerve would go, but it +stayed by me, and I tell you I enjoyed it; he moved +more often than I did. For the first time in my life +I wasn’t afraid of Neal Sheppard; and he was afraid +of me. He laid down in one of the bunks and I could +hear him turning from side to side; but he didn’t dare +to sleep any, and I didn’t either. Then he said, ‘This +is hell, ain’t it!’ ‘If it is,’ I said, ‘it’s a taste of what +you’re going to get after!’ After I’d shot him, I +meant. Then he said, ‘I want to sleep, and I can’t +sleep while you’re living; let’s settle this thing now!’</p> + +<p>“ ‘In the dark?’ I asked. ‘Not if I can find a +light,’ he says, and I promised not to shoot him while +he lit a match—I had none. He lit one and looked +for a piece of candle, but couldn’t find any. Then I +said, ‘If you want to do it in the dark, I’m +agreeable’; for I’d been thinking that maybe it was only +because of the dark, now, that I had my nerve, and +maybe when daylight came and I could see him, I +might be afraid of him. So we agreed to it.</p> + +<p>“He felt for me in the dark, and held out five +shells. We’d agreed in the afternoon to fight at fifty +paces with five shells each—steel-patched bullets—and +shoot till one killed. So he counted out five in +his hand and offered them to me, keeping the other +five for himself. I felt the five he gave me. They +were full metal-patched, all right; the kind for men to +fight with; they’d either kill or make a clean wound. +But something about him—and I knew I had to be +looking for devilment—made me suspicious of him. +‘What are your five,’ I said at a venture; ‘soft-nose? +Are you going to use sporting lead on me?’ ‘They’re +the same as yours,’ he said; but I got more suspicious. +‘Let’s trade, then,’ I said. ‘Feel the steel +on them, then,’ he handed me one. I felt; and it +was metal-patched, all right; but then I knew what +was the bottom of his whole objection to the +bullets; his shell was heavier than mine. Mine were +lighter; they were unloaded; I mean they had no +powder. He knew the powder we use was so little +compared to the weight of the case and bullet it could +easily pass all right; no one could spot the difference—no +one, except one trained like me; and I was sure he +never thought I could. It all flashed across me ten +times quicker than that as soon as I felt his cartridges; +but I said nothing. I told you I had my nerve that +night. For the same second my plan flashed to me, +too; my plan to turn his own trick against him and +not let him know! So I gave him back his shell; let +him think it was all right; but I knocked all ten, his +and mine, on the floor.</p> + +<p>“Then we had to get down and look for them on +the floor. I knew I could pick out the good from the +bad easy; but he—well, whenever I found a light one, +I left it; but when I found a heavy one, I kept it. I +got four good ones so easy and quick that he never +guessed I was picking them; he was fumbling—I +could almost feel him sweat—trying to be sure he +was getting good shells. He got one, by accident, +before I found it; so I had to take one bad one; but I +knew he had four bad, though he himself couldn’t +know anything about that. Then we loaded the guns, +and went out into the big room of the cabin, and +backed away from each other.</p> + +<p>“I backed as quick as I could, but he went slower. +I did that so I could hear his footsteps, and I listened +and knew just about where he was. We didn’t either +one of us want to fire first, for the other one would see +his flash and fire at it. But after I had waited as long +as I could and knew that he hadn’t moved because I +heard no footsteps, I fired twice—as fast as I could +pull the trigger—where I heard him last; and from +just the opposite corner from where I last heard him, +I heard the click of his rifle—the hammer falling on +one of his bad shells, or it might have been the last +for me. I didn’t see how he could have got there +without my knowing it; but I didn’t stop to think of +that. I just swung and gave it to him quick—two +shots again, but not so quick but that—between +them—his hammer struck his good shell and the bullet +banged through the wall behind me. But then I gave +him my fourth shot—straight; for his hammer didn’t +even click again. Besides, I heard him fall. I waited +a long time to see if he moved; but he didn’t. I threw +the bad cartridge out of my gun, and went over and +felt for him. I got the matchbox and lit matches and +saw he was dead; and I saw, too, how he had got in +that corner without me hearing. He was in his stockings; +he had taken off his shoes and sneaked from the +corner where I first shot for him, so he would have +killed me if I hadn’t seen to it that he had the bad shells +he fixed for me. It struck a sort of a shiver to me to +see that—to see him tricky and fighting foul to the +end. But that was like Neal, wasn’t it, Steve? That +was like him, clear to the last, looking for any unfair +advantage he could take? That’s how and why I +killed Neal, Steve—and this time it was justice, +Steve! For Neal had it coming! Steve, Steve! +didn’t Neal have it coming?”</p> + +<p>He stretched out his hands to his old friend, the +brother of the man he had killed, in pitiable appeal; +and as the other rose, with his face working with +indecision and emotion, Trant saw that the question he +had asked and the answer that was to be given were +for those two alone, and he went out and left them.</p> + +<p>The psychologist waited at the top of the high stone +entrance steps for several minutes before Sheppard +joined him and stood drinking in great breaths of the +cold December air as though by its freshness to restore +his nervous balance.</p> + +<p>“I do not know what your decision is, Mr. Sheppard,” +said the younger man finally, “as to what will +be done in the matter. I may tell you that the case +had already given me independent confirmation of Mr. +Findlay’s remarkable statement in the important last +particulars. So it will be no surprise to me, and I +shall not mention it, if I am never called on by you +to bear witness to the very full confession we have just +heard.”</p> + +<p>“Confession?” Sheppard started. “Findlay does +not regard it a confession, Mr. Trant, but as his +defense; and I—I rather think that during the last few +minutes I have been looking at it in that light.”</p> + +<p>He led the way toward the automobile, and as they +stepped into it, he continued: “You have proved +completely, Mr. Trant, all the assertions you made at my +house this morning, but I am still guessing how the +means you used could have made you think of Findlay +as the man who killed Neal—the one whom I would +have least suspected.”</p> + +<p>“You know already,” Trant answered, “what led +me to the conclusion that your brother was killed in the +dark; and that it was certainly not a murder, but a +duel, or, at least, some sort of a formal fight between +two men, had occurred to me with compelling +suggestiveness as soon as the Indian showed to me the +intact shells—all with full metal-patched bullets, +though these were not carried by you for game and no +other such shells were found in your brother’s belt. +And not only were the intact shells with steel-patched +bullets, but the shots fired were also steel-patched +bullets, as the Indian noticed from their holes through the +logs. So here were two men with five metal-patched +shells apiece firing at each other.</p> + +<p>“It still more strongly suggested some sort of a duel +to me,” the psychologist continued, “when they told us +the singularly curious fact that two of the bullets had +pierced the wall directly above the place where your +brother’s shoes stood. This could reasonably be +explained if I held my suspicion that the men had fought +a duel in the dark—shooting by sound; but I could +not even guess at any other explanation which was not +entirely fantastic. And when I discovered immediately +afterwards that, of the ten special shells which +these men seemed to have chosen to fire at each other, +five had been unloaded, it made the fact final to me; +for it was utterly absurd to suppose that of the ten +shells to be shot under such circumstances, +five—just one half—would have been without powder +by accident. But I am free to confess,” Trant +continued frankly, “that I did not even guess at the +true explanation of that—for I have accepted Mr. +Findlay’s statement as correct. I had accounted for +it by supposing that, in this duel, the men more +consciously chose their cartridges and that the duel was +a sort of repeating rifle adaptation of two men +dueling with one loaded and one unloaded pistol. In +the essential fact, however, I was correct and that +was that the men did choose the shells; so, granting +that, it was perfectly plain that one of the men had +been able to clearly discriminate between the loaded +and the unloaded shells, and the other had not. For +not only did the one have four good shells to the +other’s one—in itself an almost convincing figure—but +the man with four did not even try to shoot his +bad shell, while it appeared that the other had tried +to shoot his bad one first. Now as there was not the +slightest difference to the eye between the bad and good +shells and—that which made it final—the duel was +fought in the dark, the discrimination which one man +had and your brother did not, could only have been an +ability for fine discrimination in weight.”</p> + +<p>“I see!” Comprehension dawned curiously upon +Sheppard’s face.</p> + +<p>“For the bullet and the case of those special shells +of yours, Mr. Sheppard,” the psychologist continued +rapidly, “were so heavy—weighing together over +three hundred grains, as I weighed them at your gun +cabinet—and the smokeless powder you were trying +was of such exceptional power that you had barely +twenty grains in a cartridge; so the difference in +weight between one of those full shells and an empty +one was scarcely one-fifteenth—an extremely difficult +difference for one without special deftness to detect +in such delicate weights. It was entirely indistinguishable +to you; and also apparently so to Mr. Chapin, +though I was not at first convinced whether it was +really so or not. However, as I have trained myself +in laboratory work to fine differences—a man may +work up to discriminations as fine as one-fortieth—I +was able to make out this essential difference at once.</p> + +<p>“This reduced my case to a single and extremely +elementary consideration: <em>could</em> young Tyler have +picked out those shells in the dark and shot Neal +Sheppard with them. If he could, then I could take up the +circumstantial evidence against him, which certainly +seemed strong. But if he could not, then I had merely +to test the other men who carried Sheppard-Tyler +rifles and were gone from camp the night your brother +was shot, as well as young Tyler—though that +circumstance seemed to have been forgotten in the case +against Tyler.”</p> + +<p>“I see!” Sheppard cried again. “So that was +what you were doing with the steins and shot! But +how could you tell that from the steins?”</p> + +<p>“I was making a test, as you understand now, Mr. +Sheppard,” Trant explained, “to determine whether +or not Tyler—and after him, Mr. Chapin—could +have distinguished easily between a loaded shell +weighing something over 320 grains and one without the 20 +odd grains of smokeless powder; that is, to find if +either could discriminate differences of no more than +one-fifteenth in such a small weight. To test for this +in the laboratory and with the proper series of +experiment weights, I should have a number of rubber +blocks of precisely the same size and appearance, but +graded in weight from 300 grains to something over +320 grains. If I had the subject take up the 300 grain +weight and then the others in succession, asking him +to call them heavier or lighter or the same weight, +and then made him go over all the weights again in a +different order, I could have as accurately proved his +sense of weight discrimination as an oculist can prove +the power of sight of the eyes, and with as little +possibility of anyone fooling me. But I could not arrange +a proper series of experiment weights of only 300 +grains without a great deal of trouble; and it was not +necessary for me to do so. For under the operation +of a well-known psychological principle called Weber’s +Law, I knew that the same ratio of discrimination +between weights holds pretty nearly constant for each +individual, whether the experiment is made with +grains, or ounces, or pounds. In other words, if a +person’s ‘threshold of difference’—as his power of +weight discrimination is called—is only one-tenth in +grains, it is the same in drams or ounces; and if he +can not accurately determine whether one stein weighs +one-fifteenth more than another, neither can he pick +out the heavier shell if the difference is only +one-fifteenth. So I merely had to take five of your steins, +fill the one I used as a standard with shot till it +weighed about six ounces, or 100 drams. The other +steins I weighted to 105, 107, 108, 110 drams +respectively; and by mixing them up and timing both Tyler’s +and Chapin’s answers so as to be sure they were +answering their honest, first impressions of the weights +of the steins and were not trying to trick me, I found +that neither could consistently tell whether the steins +that weighed one-twentieth, one-fifteenth or even the +steins which weighed one-twelfth more were heavier, +lighter or the same as the standard stein; and it was +only when they got the one which weighed 110 drams +and was one-tenth heavier that they were always +right. So I knew.”</p> + +<p>“I see! I see!” Sheppard cried eagerly. “Then +the coins you took to Findlay were—”</p> + +<p>“Weights to try him in precisely the same sense,” +Trant continued. “Only they approximated much +more closely the weights of the bullets and had, +indeed, even finer differences in weight. Five were +genuine old florins weighing 400 grains, while the +other five were light twenty grains or only one-twentieth; +yet Findlay picked them out at once from the +others, as soon as he compared them, without a +moment’s hesitation.”</p> + +<p>“Simple as you make it out now, young man,” +Sheppard said to his young adviser admiringly, “it +was a wonderful bit of work. And whether or not it +would have proved that you were needed to save Tyler’s +life, you have certainly saved me from making the +most serious criminal charge against him; and you +have spared him and my niece from starting their +lives together under the shame and shadow of the +public knowledge of my brother’s past. I am going +now, of course, to see that Jim is freed and that even +the suspicion that my brother was not killed +accidentally in the woods, gets no further than Captain +Crowley. I can see to that! And you, Mr. Trant—”</p> + +<p>“I have retained the privilege, fortunately, Mr. +Sheppard,” Trant interrupted, “since I am unofficial, +of judging for myself when justice has been done. +And I told you that the story we have just heard +satisfied me as the truth. My office is in the next block. +You will leave me there?”</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter" id="ch08"> + +<h2>VIII. <br> The Axton Letters</h2> + +<p>The sounds in her dressing-room had waked her +just before five. Ethel Waldron could still see, when +she closed her eyes, every single, sharp detail of her +room as it was that instant she sprang up in bed, +with the cry that had given the alarm, and switched +on the electric light. Instantly the man had shut the +door; but as she sat, strained, staring at it to reopen, +the hands and dial of her clock standing on the mantel +beside the door, had fixed themselves upon her retina +like the painted dial of a jeweler’s dummy. It could +have been barely five, therefore, when Howard Axton, +after his first swift rush in her defense had found +the window which had been forced open; had picked +up the queer Turkish dagger which he found broken +on the sill, and, crying to the girl not to call the police, +as it was surely “the same man”—the same man, he +meant, who had so inexplicably followed him around +the world—had rushed to his room for extra cartridges +for his revolver and run out into the cold sleet +of the March morning.</p> + +<p>So it was now an hour or more since Howard had +run after the man, revolver in hand; and he had not +reappeared or telephoned or sent any word at all of his +safety. And however much Howard’s life in wild +lands had accustomed him to seek redress outside the +law, hers still held the city-bred impulse to appeal to +the police. She turned from her nervous pacing at +the window and seized the telephone from its hook; +but at the sound of the operator’s voice she remembered +again Howard’s injunction that the man, whenever +he appeared, was to be left solely to him, and +dropped the receiver without answering. But she +resented fiercely the advantage he held over her which +must oblige her, she knew, to obey him. He had told +her frankly—threatened her, indeed—that if there +was the slightest publicity given to his homecoming +to marry her, or any further notoriety made of the +attending circumstances, he would surely leave her.</p> + +<p>At the rehearsal of this threat she straightened and +threw the superfluous dressing gown from her +shoulders with a proud, defiant gesture. She was a +straight, almost tall girl, with the figure of a more +youthful Diana and with features as fair and flawless +as any younger Hera, and in addition a great depth of +blue in very direct eyes and a crowning glory of thick, +golden hair. She was barely twenty-two. And she +was not used to having any man show a sense of +advantage over her, much less threaten her, as Howard +had done. So, in that impulse of defiance, she was +reaching again for the telephone she had just dropped, +when she saw through the fog outside the window the +man she was waiting for—a tall, alert figure +hastening toward the house.</p> + +<p>She ran downstairs rapidly and herself opened the +door to him, a fresh flush of defiance flooding over +her. Whether she resented it because this man, whom +she did not love but must marry, could appear more +the assured and perfect gentleman without collar, or +scarf, and with his clothes and boots spattered with +mud and rain, than any of her other friends could +ever appear; or whether it was merely the confident, +insolent smile of his full lips behind his small, +close-clipped mustache, she could not tell. At any rate she +motioned him into the library without speaking; but +when they were alone and she had closed the door, +she burst upon him.</p> + +<p>“Well, Howard? Well? Well, Howard?” +breathlessly.</p> + +<p>“Then you have not sent any word to the police, +Ethel?”</p> + +<p>“I was about to—the moment you came. +But—I have not—yet,” she had to confess.</p> + +<p>“Or to that—” he checked the epithet that was on +his lips—“your friend Caryl?”</p> + +<p>She flushed, and shook her head.</p> + +<p>He drew his revolver, “broke” it, ejecting the +cartridges carelessly upon the table, and threw himself +wearily into a chair. “I’m glad to see you understand +that this has not been the sort of affair for anyone else +to interfere in!”</p> + +<p>“Has been, you mean;” the girl’s face went white; +“you—you caught him this time and—and killed +him, Howard?”</p> + +<p>“Killed him, Ethel?” the man laughed, but +observed her more carefully. “Of course I haven’t +killed him—or even caught him. But I’ve made myself +sure, at last, that he’s the same fellow that’s been +trying to make a fool of me all this year—that’s been +after me, as I wrote you. And if you remember my +letters, even you—I mean even a girl brought up in +a city ought to see how it’s a matter of honor with +me now to settle with him alone!”</p> + +<p>“If he is merely trying to ‘make a fool of you,’ +as you say—yes, Howard,” the girl returned hotly. +“But from what you yourself have told me of him, +you know he must be keeping after you for some +serious reason! Yes; you know it! I can see it! You +can’t deny it!”</p> + +<p>“Ethel—what do you mean by that?”</p> + +<p>“I mean that, if you do not think that the man +who has been following you from Calcutta to Cape +Town, to Chicago, means more than a joke for you to +settle for yourself; anyway, <em>I</em> know that the man who +has now twice gone through the things in <em>my</em> room, is +something for me to go to the police about!”</p> + +<p>“And have the papers flaring the family scandal +again?” the man returned. “I admit, Ethel,” he +conceded, carefully calculating the sharpness of his +second sting before he delivered it, “that if you or I +could call in the police without setting the whole pack +of papers upon us again, I’d be glad to do it, if only +to please you. But I told you, before I came back, +that if there was to be any more airing of the family +affairs at all, I could not come; so if you want to +press the point now, of course I can leave you,” he +gave the very slightest but most suggestive glance +about the rich, luxurious furnishings of the great +room, “in possession.”</p> + +<p>“You know I can’t let you do that!” the girl flushed +scarlet. “But neither can you prevent me from +making the private inquiry I spoke of for myself!” She +went to the side of the room and, in his plain hearing, +took down the telephone and called a number without +having to look it up.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Caryl, please,” she said. “Oh, Henry, is it +you? You can take me to your—Mr. Trant, wasn’t +that the name—as soon as you can now. . . . +Yes; I want you to come here. I will have my +brougham. Immediately!” And still without another +word or even a glance at Axton, she brushed by +him and ran up the stairs to her room.</p> + +<p>He had made no effort to prevent her telephoning; +and she wondered at it, even as, in the same impetus of +reckless anger, she swept up the scattered letters and +papers on her writing desk, and put on her things to +go out. But on her way downstairs she stopped +suddenly. The curl of his cigarette smoke through the +open library door showed that he was waiting just +inside it. He meant to speak to her before she went +out. Perhaps he was even glad to have Caryl come +in order that he might speak his say in the presence +of both of them. Suddenly his tobacco’s sharp, +distinctive odor sickened her. She turned about, ran +upstairs again and fled, almost headlong, down the +rear stairs and out the servants’ door to the alley.</p> + +<p>The dull, gray fog, which was thickening as the +morning advanced, veiled her and made her unrecognizable +except at a very few feet; but at the end of +the alley, she shrank instinctively from the glance of +the men passing until she made out a hurrying form +of a man taller even than Axton and much broader. +She sprang toward it with a shiver of relief as she saw +Henry Caryl’s light hair and recognized his even, open +features.</p> + +<p>“Ethel!” he caught her, gasping his surprise. +“You here? Why—”</p> + +<p>“Don’t go to the house!” She led him the opposite +way. “There is a cab stand at the corner. Get +one there and take me—take me to this Mr. Trant. +I will tell you everything. The man came again last +night. Auntie is sick in bed from it. Howard still +says it is his affair and will do nothing. I had to +come to you.”</p> + +<p>Caryl steadied her against a house-wall an instant; +ran to the corner for a cab and, returning with it, half +lifted her into it.</p> + +<p>Forty minutes later he led her into Trant’s +reception-room in the First National Bank Building; and +recognizing the abrupt, decisive tones of the psychologist +in conversation in the inner office, Caryl went to +the door and knocked sharply.</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon, but—can you possibly postpone +what you are doing, Mr. Trant?” he questioned +quickly as the door opened and he faced the sturdy +and energetic form of the red-haired young psychologist +who, in six months, had made himself admittedly +the chief consultant in Chicago on criminal cases. +“My name is Caryl. Henry Howell introduced me +to you last week at the club. But I am not +presuming upon that for this interruption. I and—my +friend need your help badly, Mr. Trant, and immediately. +I mean, if we can not speak with you now, we +may be interrupted—unpleasantly.”</p> + +<p>Caryl had moved, as he spoke, to hide the girl behind +him from the sight of the man in the inner office, +who, Caryl had seen, was a police officer. Trant +noted this and also that Caryl had carefully refrained +from mentioning the girl’s name.</p> + +<p>“I can postpone this present business, Mr. Caryl,” +the psychologist replied quietly. He closed the door, +but reopened it almost instantly. His official visitor +had left through the entrance directly into the hall; +the two young clients came into the inner room.</p> + +<p>“This is Mr. Trant, Ethel,” Caryl spoke to the +girl a little nervously as she took a seat. “And, Mr. +Trant, this is Miss Waldron. I have brought her to +tell you of a mysterious man who has been pursuing +Howard Axton about the world, and who, since Axton +came home to her house two weeks ago, has been +threatening her.”</p> + +<p>“Axton—Axton!” the psychologist repeated the +name which Caryl had spoken, as if assured that Trant +must recognize it. “Ah! Of course, Howard Axton +is the son!” he frankly admitted his clearing +recollection and his comprehension of how the face of the +girl had seemed familiar. “Then you,” he addressed +her directly, “are Miss Waldron, of Drexel +Boulevard?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I am that Miss Waldron, Mr. Trant,” the +girl replied, flushing red to her lips, but raising her +head proudly and meeting his eyes directly. “The +step-daughter—the daughter of the second wife of +Mr. Nimrod Axton. It was my mother, Mr. Trant, +who was the cause of Mrs. Anna Axton getting a +divorce and the complete custody of her son from +Mr. Axton twenty years ago. It was my mother who, +just before Mr. Nimrod Axton’s death last year, +required that, in the will, the son—the first Mrs. Axton +was then dead—should be cut off absolutely and entirely, +without a cent, and that Mr. Axton’s entire estate +be put in trust for her—my mother. So, since +you doubtless remember the reopening of all this again +six months ago when my mother, too, died, I am now +the sole heir and legatee of the Axton properties of +upwards of sixty millions, they tell me. Yes; I am +that Miss Waldron, Mr. Trant!”</p> + +<p>“I recall the accounts, but only vaguely—from the +death of Mr. Axton and, later, of the second Mrs. +Axton, your mother, Miss Waldron,” Trant replied, +quietly, “though I remember the comment upon the +disposition of the estate both times. It was from the +pictures published of you and the accompanying +comment in the papers only a week or two ago that I +recognized you. I mean, of course, the recent +comments upon the son, Mr. Howard Axton, whom you +have mentioned, who has come home at last to contest +the will.”</p> + +<p>“You do Miss Waldron an injustice—all the papers +have been doing her a great injustice, Mr. Trant,” +Caryl corrected quickly. “Mr. Axton has not come +to contest the will.”</p> + +<p>“No?”</p> + +<p>“No. Miss Waldron has had him come home, at +her own several times repeated request, so that she +may turn over to him, as completely as possible, the +whole of his father’s estate! If you can recall, in +any detail, the provisions of Mr. Axton’s will, you +will appreciate, I believe, why we have preferred to +let the other impression go uncorrected. For the second +Mrs. Axton so carefully and completely cut off all +possibility of any of the property being transferred in +any form to the son, that Miss Waldron, when she +went to a lawyer to see how she could transfer it to +Howard Axton, as soon as she had come into the +estate, found that her mother’s lawyers had provided +against every possibility except that of the heir +marrying the disinherited son. So she sent for him, +offering to establish him into his estate, even at that +cost.”</p> + +<p>“You mean that you offered to marry him?” +Trant questioned the girl directly again. “And he +has come to gain his estate in that way?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mr. Trant; but you must be fair to Mr. +Axton also,” the girl replied. “When I first wrote +him, almost a year ago, he refused point blank to +consider such an offer. In spite of my repeated letters +it was not till six weeks ago, after a shipwreck in +which he lost his friend who had been traveling with +him for some years, that he would consent even to +come home. Even now I—I remain the one urging +the marriage.”</p> + +<p>The psychologist looked at the girl keenly and +questioningly.</p> + +<p>“I need scarcely say how little urging he would +need, entirely apart from the property,” Caryl flushed, +“if he were not gentleman enough to appreciate—partly, +at least—Miss Waldron’s position. I—her +friends, I mean, Mr. Trant—have admitted that he +appeared at first well enough in every way to permit +the possibility of her marrying him if she considers +that her duty. But now, this mystery has come up +about the man who has been following him—the man +who appeared again only this morning in Miss +Waldron’s room and went through her papers—”</p> + +<p>“And Mr. Axton cannot account for it?” the +psychologist helped him.</p> + +<p>“Axton won’t tell her or anybody else who the +man is or why he follows him. On the contrary, he +has opposed in every possible way every inquiry or +search made for the man, except such as he chooses +to make for himself. Only this morning he made a +threat against Miss Waldron if she attempted to +summon the police and ‘take the man out of his hands’; +and it is because I am sure that he will follow us here +to prevent her consulting you—when he finds that +she has come here—that I asked you to see us at +once.”</p> + +<p>“Leave the details of his appearance this morning +to the last then,” Trant requested abruptly, “and tell +me where you first heard of this man following Mr. +Axton, and how? How, for instance, do you know +he was following him, if Mr. Axton is so reticent +about the affair?”</p> + +<p>“That is one of the strange things about it, Mr. +Trant”—the girl took from her bosom the bundle of +letters she had taken from her room—“he used to +write to amuse me with him, as you can see here. +I told you I wrote Mr. Axton about a year ago to +come home and he refused to consider it. But afterwards +he always wrote in reply to my letters in the +half-serious, friendly way you shall see. These four +letters I brought you are almost entirely taken up with +his adventures with the mysterious man. He wrote +on typewriter, as you see”—she handed them +over—“because on his travels he used to correspond +regularly for some of the London syndicates.”</p> + +<p>“London?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; the first Mrs. Axton took Howard to England +with her when he was scarcely seven, immediately +after she got her divorce. He grew up there and +abroad. This is his first return to America. I have +arranged those letters, Mr. Trant,” she added as the +psychologist was opening them for examination now, +“in the order they came.”</p> + +<p>“I will read them that way then,” Trant said, and +he glanced over the contents of the first hastily; it +was postmarked at Cairo, Egypt, some ten months +before. He then re-read more carefully this part of it:</p> + +<blockquote class="letter"> + + <p>“But a strange and startling incident has happened since + my last letter to you, Miss Waldron, which bothers me + considerably. We are, as you will see by the letter paper, at + Shepheard’s Hotel in Cairo, but could not, after our usual + custom, get communicating rooms. It was after midnight, + and the million noises of this babel-town had finally died into + a hot and breathless stillness. I had been writing letters, + and when through I put out the lights to get rid of their heat, + lighted instead the small night lamp I carry with me, and + still partly dressed threw myself upon the bed, without, + however, any idea of going to sleep before undressing. As + I lay there I heard distinctly soft footsteps come down the + corridor on which my room opens and stop apparently in + front of the door. They were not, I judged, the footsteps + of a European, for the walker was either barefooted or wore + soft sandals. I turned my head toward the door, expecting + a knock, but none followed. Neither did the door open, + though I had not yet locked it. I was on the point of + rising to see what was wanted, when it occurred to me that it + was probably not at my door that the steps had stopped but + at the door directly opposite, across the corridor. Without + doubt my opposite neighbor had merely returned to his room + and his footsteps had ceased to reach my ears when he + entered and closed his door behind him. I dozed off. But + half an hour later, as nearly as I can estimate it, I awoke + and was thinking of the necessity for getting undressed and + into bed, when a slight—a very slight rustling noise + attracted my attention. I listened intently to locate the + direction of the sound and determine whether it was inside the + room or out of it, and then heard in connection with it a + slighter and more regular sound which could be nothing + else than breathing. Some living creature, Miss Waldron, + was in my room. The sounds came from the direction of + the table by the window. I turned my head as silently as I + was able, and was aware that a man was holding a sheet of + paper under the light of the lamp. He was at the table + going through the papers in my writing desk. But the very + slight noise I had made in turning on the bed had warned + him. He rose, with a hissing intake of the breath, his feet + pattered softly and swiftly across the floor, my door creaked + under his hand, and he was gone before I could jump from + the bed and intercept him. I ran out into the hallway, but + it was empty. I listened, but could hear no movement in + any of the rooms near me. I went back and examined the + writing desk, but found nothing missing; and it was plain + nothing had been touched except some of my letters from + you. But, before finally going to bed, you may well believe, + I locked my door carefully; and in the morning I reported + the matter to the hotel office. The only description I could + give of the intruder was that he had certainly worn a + turban, and one even larger it seemed to me than ordinary. + The hotel attendants had seen no one coming from or + entering my corridor that night who answered this description. + The turban and the absence of European shoes, of course, + determined him to have been an Egyptian, Turk or Arab. + But what Egyptian, Turk or Arab could have entered my + room with any other object than robbery—which was certainly + not the aim of my intruder, for the valuables in the + writing desk were untouched. That same afternoon, it is + true, I had had an altercation amounting almost to a quarrel + with a Bedouin Arab on my way back from Heliopolis; but + if this were he, why should he have taken revenge on my + writing desk instead of on me? And what reason on earth + can any follower of the Prophet have had for examining + with such particular attention my letters from you? It was + so decidedly a strange thing that I have taken all this space + to tell it to you—one of the strangest sort of things I’ve + had in all my knocking about; and Lawler can make no more + of it than I.”</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>“Who is this Lawler who was with Mr. Axton +then?” Trant looked up interestedly from the last +page of the letter.</p> + +<p>“I only know he was a friend Howard made in +London—an interesting man who had traveled a +great deal, particularly in America. Howard was +lonely after his mother’s death; and as Mr. Lawler +was about his age, they struck up a friendship and +traveled together.”</p> + +<p>“An English younger son, perhaps?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know anything else except that he had +been in the English army—in the Royal Sussex +regiment—but was forced to give up his commission on +account of charges that he had cheated at cards. +Howard always held that the charges were false; but +that was why he wanted to travel.”</p> + +<p>“You know of no other trouble which this Lawler +had?”</p> + +<p>“No, none.”</p> + +<p>“Then where is he now?”</p> + +<p>“Dead.”</p> + +<p>“Dead?” Trant’s face fell.</p> + +<p>“Yes; he was the friend I spoke of that was +lost—drowned in the wreck of the <i>Gladstone</i> just before +Howard started home.”</p> + +<p>Trant picked up the next letter, which was dated +and postmarked at Calcutta.</p> + +<blockquote class="letter"> + + <p>“Miss Waldron, I have seen him again,” he read. “Who, + you ask? My Moslem friend with a taste for your + correspondence. You see, I can again joke about it; but really + it was only last night and I am still in a perfect funk. It + was the same man—I’ll swear it—shoeless and turbaned + and enjoying the pleasant pursuit of going through my + writing desk for your letters. Did he follow us down the + Red Sea, across the Indian Ocean—over three thousand + miles of ocean travel? I can imagine no other + explanation—for I would take oath to his identity—the very same + man I saw at Cairo, but now here in this Great Eastern + Hotel at Calcutta, where we have two rooms at the end of + the most noisome corridor that ever caged the sounds and + odors of a babbling East Indian population, and where the + doors have no locks. I had the end of a trunk against my + door, notwithstanding the fact that an Indian servant I have + hired was sleeping in the corridor outside across the + doorway, but it booted nothing; for Lawler in the next room + had neglected to fasten his door in any way, trusting to his + servant, who occupied a like strategic position outside the + threshold, and the door between our two rooms was open. + I had been asleep in spite of everything—in spite of the + snores and stertorous breathing of a floorful of sleeping + humans, for the partitions between the rooms do not come + within several feet of the ceiling; in spite of the distant + bellowing of a sacred bull, and the nearer howl of a very + far from sacred dog, and a jingling of elephant bells which + were set off intermittently somewhere close at hand + whenever some living thing in their neighborhood—animal or + human—shifted its position. I was awakened—at least I + believe it was this which awakened me—by a creaking of + the floor boards in my room, and, with what seemed a + causeless, but was certainly one of the most oppressive feelings + of chilling terror I have ever experienced, I started upright + in my bed. He was there, again at my writing desk, and + rustling the papers. For an instant I remained motionless; + and in that instant, alarmed by the slight sound I had made, + he fled noiselessly, pattered through the door between the + rooms and loudly slammed it shut, slammed Lawler’s outer + door behind him, and had gone. I crashed the door open, + ran across the creaking floor of the other room—where + Lawler, awakened by the slamming of the doors, had + whisked out of bed—and opened the door into the corridor. + Lawler’s servant, aroused, but still dazed with sleep, + blubbered that he had seen no one, though the man must have + stepped over his very body. A dozen other servants, sleeping + before their masters’ doors in the corridor, had awakened + likewise, but cried out shrilly that they had seen no one. + Lawler, too, though the noise of the man’s passage had + brought him out of bed, had not seen him. When I examined + my writing desk I found, as before at Cairo, that nothing + had been taken. The literary delight of looking over + your letters seems to be all that draws him—of course, I + am joking; for there must be a real reason. What it is + that he is searching for, why it is that he follows me, for + he has never intruded on anyone else so far as I can learn, + I would like to know—I would like to know—I would like + to know! The native servants asked in awe-struck whispers + whether I noticed if his feet were turned backwards; for it + seems they believe that to be one of the characteristics of + a ghost. But the man was flesh and blood—I am sure of + it; and I am bound that if he comes again I will learn his + object, for I sleep now with my pistol under my pillow, and + next time—I shall shoot!”</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>Trant, as he finished the last words, looked up +suddenly at Miss Waldron, as though about to ask a +question or make some comment, but checked himself, and +hastily laying aside this letter he picked up the next +one, which bore a Cape Town date line:</p> + +<blockquote class="letter"> + + <p>“My affair with my mysterious visitor came almost to a + conclusion last night, for except for a careless mistake of + my own I should have bagged him. Isn’t it mystifying, + bewildering—yes, and a little terrifying—he made his + appearance here last night in Cape Town, thousands of miles + away from the two other places I had encountered him; + and he seemed to have no more difficulty in entering the + house of a Cape Town correspondent, Mr. Arthur Emsley, + where we are guests, than he had before in entering public + hotels, and when discovered he disappeared as mysteriously + as ever. This time, however, he took some precautions. + He had moved my night lamp so that, with his body in + shadow, he could still see the contents of my desk; but I + could hear his shoulders rubbing on the wall and located + him exactly. I slipped my hand noiselessly for my + revolver, but it was gone. The slight noise I made in + searching for it alarmed him, and he ran. I rushed out into the + hall after him. Mr. Emsley and Lawler, awakened by the + breaking of the glass, had come out of their rooms. They + had not seen him, and though we searched the house he had + disappeared as inexplicably as the two other times. But I + have learned one thing: It is not a turban he wears, it is + his coat, which he takes off and wraps around his head to + hide his face. An odd disguise; and the possession of a + coat of that sort makes it probable he is a European. I + know of only two Europeans who have been in Cairo, + Calcutta and Cape Town at the same time we were—both + travelers like ourselves; a guttural young German named + Schultz, a freight agent for the Nord Deutscher Lloyd, + and a nasal American named Walcott, who travels for + the Seric Medicine Co. of New York. I shall keep + an eye on both of them. For, in my mind at least, this + affair has come to be a personal and bitter contest between + the unknown and myself. I am determined not only to + know who this man is and what is the object of his visits, + but to settle with him the score which I now have against + him. I shall shoot him next time he comes as mercilessly + as I would a rabid dog; and I should have shot him this + time except for my own careless mistake through which I + had let my revolver slip to the floor, where I found it. By + the bye, we sail for home—that is, England—next week + on the steamer <i>Gladstone</i>, but, I am sorry to say, without my + English servant, Beasley. Poor Beasley, since these + mysterious occurrences, has been bitten with superstitious + terror; the man is in a perfect fright, thinks I am haunted, and + does not dare to embark on the same ship with me, for he + believes that the <i>Gladstone</i> will never reach England in + safety if I am aboard. I shall discharge him, of course, + but furnish him with his transportation home and leave him + to follow at his leisure if he sees fit.”</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>“This is the first time I have heard of another man +in their party who might possibly be the masquerader, +Miss Waldron;” Trant swung suddenly in his revolving +chair to face the girl again. “Mr. Axton speaks +of him as his English servant—I suppose, from that, +he left England with Mr. Axton.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mr. Trant.”</p> + +<p>“And therefore was present, though not mentioned, +at Cairo, Calcutta and Cape Town?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mr. Trant; but he was dismissed at that time +by Mr. Axton and is now, and also was, at the +mysterious man’s next appearance, in the Charing Cross +Hospital in London. He had his leg broken by a +cab; and one of the doctors there wrote Mr. Axton +two days ago telling him of Beasley’s need of +assistance. It could not have been Beasley.”</p> + +<p>“And there was no one else with Mr. Axton, except +his friend Lawler who, you say, was drowned in a +wreck?”</p> + +<p>“No one else but Mr. Lawler, Mr. Trant; and +Howard himself saw him dead and identified him, as +you will see in that last letter.”</p> + +<p>Trant opened the envelope and took out the enclosure +interestedly; but as he unfolded the first page, +a printed sheet dropped out. He spread it upon his +desk—a page from the London <i>Illustrated News</i> +showing four portraits with the caption, “Sole +survivors of the ill-fated British steamer <i>Gladstone</i>, +wrecked off Cape Blanco, January 24,” the first +portrait bearing the name of Howard Axton and showing +the determined, distinctly handsome features and +the full lips and deep-set eyes of the man whom the +girl had defied that morning.</p> + +<p>“This is a good portrait?” Trant asked abruptly.</p> + +<p>“Very good, indeed,” the girl answered, “though +it was taken almost immediately after the wreck for +the <i>News</i>. I have the photograph from which it was +made at home. I had asked him for a picture of himself +in my last previous letter, as my mother had destroyed +every picture, even the early pictures, of him +and his mother.”</p> + +<p>Trant turned to the last letter.</p> + +<blockquote class="letter"> + + <p>“Wrecked, Miss Waldron. Poor Beasley’s prophecy of + disaster has come only too true, and I suppose he is already + congratulating himself that he was ‘warned’ by my + mysterious visitor and so escaped the fate that so many have + suffered, including poor Lawler. Of course you will have + seen all about it in the staring headlines of some newspaper + long before this reaches you. I am glad that when found + I was at once identified, though still unconscious, and my + name listed first among the very few survivors, so that you + were spared the anxiety of waiting for news of me. Only + four of us left out of that whole shipload! I had final proof + this morning of poor Lawler’s death by the finding of his + body.</p> + + <p>“I was hardly out of bed when a mangy little man—a + German trader—came to tell me that more bodies had been + found, and, as I have been called upon in every instance to + aid in identification, I set out with him down the beach at + once. It was almost impossible to realize that this blue and + silver ocean glimmering under the blazing sun was the + same white-frothing terror that had swallowed up all my + companions of three days before. The greater part of the + bodies found that morning had been already carried up the + beach. Among those remaining on the sand the first we + came upon was that of Lawler. It lay upon its side at the + entrance of a ragged sandy cove, half buried in the sand, + which here was white as leprosy. His ears, the sockets of + his eyes, and every interstice of his clothing were filled with + this white and leprous sand by the washing of the waves; + his pockets bulged and were distended with it.”</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>“What! What!” Trant clutched the letter from +the desk in excitement and stared at it with eyes +flashing with interest.</p> + +<p>“It is a horrible picture, Mr. Trant,” the girl +shuddered.</p> + +<p>“Horrible—yes, certainly,” the psychologist assented +tensely; “but I was not thinking of the +horror,” he checked himself.</p> + +<p>“Of what, then?” asked Caryl pointedly.</p> + +<p>But the psychologist had already returned to the +letter in his hand, the remainder of which he read with +intent and ever-increasing interest:</p> + +<blockquote class="letter"> + + <p>“Of course I identified him at once. His face was calm + and showed no evidence of his last bitter struggle, and I am + glad his look was thus peaceful. Poor Lawler! If the + first part of his life was not all it should have been—as + indeed he frankly told me—he atoned for all in his last hour; + for undoubtedly, Miss Waldron, Lawler gave his life for + mine.</p> + + <p>“I suppose the story of the wreck is already all known + to you, for our one telegraph wire that binds this isolated + town to the outside world has been laboring for three days + under a load of messages. You know then that eighteen + hours out of St. Vincent fire was discovered among the + cargo, that the captain, confident at first that the fire would + be got under control, kept on his course, only drawing in + somewhat toward the African shore in case of emergency. + But a very heavy sea rising, prevented the fire-fighters from + doing efficient work among the cargo and in the storm and + darkness the <i>Gladstone</i> struck several miles to the north of + Cape Blanco on a hidden reef at a distance of over a + mile from the shore.</p> + + <p>“On the night it occurred I awakened with so strong a + sense of something being wrong that I rose, partly dressed + myself, and went out into the cabin, where I found a + white-faced steward going from door to door arousing the + passengers. Heavy smoke was billowing up the main companion-way + in the light of the cabin lamps, and the pitching and + reeling of the vessel showed that the sea had greatly + increased. I returned and awoke Lawler, and we went out + on deck. The sea was a smother of startling whiteness + through which the <i>Gladstone</i> was staggering at the full + power of her engines. No flame as yet was anywhere + visible, but huge volumes of smoke were bursting from every + opening in the fore part of the vessel. The passengers, in + a pale and terrified group, were kept together on the after + deck as far as possible from the fire. Now and then some + pallid, staring man or woman would break through the guard + and rush back to the cabin in search of a missing loved one + or valuables. Lawler and I determined that one of us must + return to the stateroom for our money, and Lawler + successfully made the attempt. He returned in ten minutes + with my money and papers and two life preservers. But + when I tried to put on my life preserver I found it to be + old and in such a condition as made it useless. Lawler then + took off the preserver that he himself had on, declaring + himself to be a much better swimmer than I—which I + knew to be the case—and forced me to wear it. This life + preserver was all that brought me safely ashore, and the + lack of it was, I believe, the reason for Lawler’s death. + Within ten minutes afterward the flames burst through the + forward deck—a red and awful banner which the fierce + wind flattened into a fan-shaped sheet of fire against the + night—and the <i>Gladstone</i> struck with terrific force, + throwing everything and everybody flat upon the deck. The bow + was raised high upon the reef, while the stern with its + maddened living freight began to sink rapidly into the swirl of + foaming waters. The first two boats were overfilled at once + in a wild rush, and one was stove immediately against the + steamer’s side and sank, while the other was badly damaged + and made only about fifty yards’ progress before it went + down also. The remaining boats all were lowered from the + starboard davits, and got away in safety; but only to + capsize or be stove upon the reef. Lawler and I found places + in the last boat—the captain’s. At the last moment, just + as we were putting off, the fiery maw of the <i>Gladstone</i> + vomited out the scorched and half-blinded second engineer + and a single stoker, whom we took in with difficulty. There + was but one woman in our boat—a fragile, illiterate + Dutchwoman from the neighborhood of Johannesburg—who had + in her arms a baby. How strange that of our boatload + those who alone survived should be the Dutchwoman, but + without her baby; the engineer and stoker, whom the fire + had already partly disabled, and myself, a very indifferent + swimmer—while the strongest among us all perished! Of + what happened after leaving the ship I have only the most + indistinct recollection. I recall the swamping of our boat, + and cruel white waters that rushed out of the night to engulf + us; I recall a blind and painful struggle against a power + infinitely greater than my own—a struggle which seemed + interminable; for, as a matter of fact, I must have been in + the water fully four hours and the impact of the waves + alone beat my flesh almost to a jelly; and I recall the + coming of daylight, and occasional glimpses of a shore which + seemed to project itself suddenly above the sea and then + at once to sink away and be swallowed by it. I was found + unconscious on the sands—I have not the faintest idea how + I got there—and I was identified before coming to myself + (it may please you to know this) by several of your letters + which were found in my pocket. At present, with my three + rescued companions—whose names even I probably never + should have known if the <i>Gladstone</i> had reached England + safely—I am a most enthralling center of interest to the + white, black and parti-colored inhabitants of this region; + and I am writing this letter on an antiquated typewriter + belonging to the smallest, thinnest, baldest little American + that ever left his own dooryard to become a missionary.”</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>Trant tossed aside the last page and, with eyes flashing +with a deep, glowing fire, he glanced across +intensely to the girl watching him; and his hands +clenched on the table, in the constraint of his +eagerness.</p> + +<p>“Why—what is it, Mr. Trant?” the girl cried.</p> + +<p>“This is so taken up with the wreck and the death +of Lawler,” the psychologist touched the last letter, +“that there is hardly any more mention of the +mysterious man. But you said, since Mr. Axton has +come home, he has twice appeared and in your room, +Miss Waldron. Please give me the details.”</p> + +<p>“Of his first appearance—or visit, I should say, +since no one really saw him, Mr. Trant,” the girl +replied, still watching the psychologist with wonder, +“I can’t tell you much, I’m afraid. When Mr. Axton +first came home, I asked him about this mysterious +friend; and he put me off with a laugh and merely +said he hadn’t seen much of him since he last wrote. +But even then I could see he wasn’t so easy as he +seemed. And it was only two days after that—or +nights, for it was about one o’clock in the +morning—that I was wakened by some sound which seemed to +come from my dressing-room. I turned on the light +in my room and rang the servant’s bell. The butler +came almost at once and, as he is not a courageous +man, roused Mr. Axton before opening the door to +my dressing-room. They found no one there and +nothing taken or even disturbed except my letters in +my writing desk, Mr. Trant. My aunt, who has been +taking care of me since my mother died, was aroused +and came with the servants. She thought I must have +imagined everything; but I discovered and showed +Mr. Axton that it was <em>his letters to me</em> that had +appeared to be the ones the man was searching for. I +found that two of them had been taken and every +other typewritten letter in my desk—and only +those—had been opened in an apparent search for more +of his letters. I could see that this excited him +exceedingly, though he tried to conceal it from me; and +immediately afterwards he found that a window on +the first floor had been forced, so some man had come +in, as I said.”</p> + +<p>“Then last night.”</p> + +<p>“It was early this morning, Mr. Trant, but still +very dark—a little before five o’clock. It was so +damp, you know, that I had not opened the window +in my bedroom, which is close to the bed; but had +opened the windows of my dressing-room, and so left +the door between open. It had been closed and locked +before. So when I awoke, I could see directly into +my dressing-room.”</p> + +<p>“Clearly?”</p> + +<p>“Of course not at all clearly. But my writing-desk +is directly opposite my bedroom door; and in a +sort of silhouette against my shaded desk light, which +he was using, I could see his figure—a very vague, +monstrous looking figure, Mr. Trant. Its lower part +seemed plain enough; but the upper part was a +formless blotch. I confess at first that enough of my +girl’s fear for ghosts came to me to make me see him +as a headless man, until I remembered how Howard +had seen and described him—with a coat wrapped +round his head. As soon as I was sure of this, I +pressed the bell-button again and this time screamed, +too, and switched on my light. But he slammed the +door between us and escaped. He went through another +window he had forced on the lower floor with a +queer sort of dagger-knife which he had broken and +left on the sill. And as soon as Howard saw this, +he knew it was the same man, for it was then he +ordered me not to interfere. He made off after him, +and when he came back, he told me he was sure it was +the same man.”</p> + +<p>“This time, too, the man at your desk seemed +rummaging for your correspondence with Mr. Axton?”</p> + +<p>“It seemed so, Mr. Trant.”</p> + +<p>“But his letters were all merely personal—like +these letters you have given me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Amazing!” Trant leaped to his feet, with eyes +flashing now with unrestrained fire, and took two or +three rapid turns up and down the office. “If I am to +believe the obvious inference from these letters, Miss +Waldron—coupled with what you have told me—I +have not yet come across a case, an attempt at crime +more careful, more cold-blooded and, withall, more +surprising!”</p> + +<p>“A crime—an attempt at crime, Mr. Trant?” +cried the white and startled girl. “So there was cause +for my belief that something serious underlay these +mysterious appearances?”</p> + +<p>“Cause?” Trant swung to face her. “Yes, Miss +Waldron—criminal cause, a crime so skillfully carried +on, so assisted by unexpected circumstance that +you—that the very people against whom it is aimed +have not so much as suspected its existence.”</p> + +<p>“Then you think Howard honestly believes the man +still means nothing?”</p> + +<p>“The man never meant ‘nothing,’ Miss Waldron; +but it was only at first the plot was aimed against +Howard Axton,” Trant replied. “Now it is aimed +solely at you!”</p> + +<p>The girl grew paler.</p> + +<p>“How can you say that so surely, Mr. Trant?” +Caryl demanded, “without investigation?”</p> + +<p>“These letters are quite enough evidence for what +I say, Mr. Caryl,” Trant returned. “Would you +have come to me unless you had known that my training +in the methods of psychology enabled me to see +causes and motives in such a case as this which others, +untrained, can not see?</p> + +<p>“You have nothing more to tell me which might be +of assistance?” he faced the girl again, but turned +back at once to Caryl. “Let me tell you then, Mr. +Caryl, that I am about to make a very thorough +investigation of this for you. Meanwhile, I repeat: a +definite, daring crime was planned first, I believe, +against Howard Axton and Miss Waldron; but now—I +am practically certain—it is aimed against Miss +Waldron alone. But there cannot be in it the slightest +danger of intentional personal hurt to her. So neither +of you need be uneasy while I am taking time to obtain +full proof—”</p> + +<p>“But, Mr. Trant,” the girl interrupted, “are you +not going to tell me—you <em>must</em> tell me—what the +criminal secret is that these letters have revealed to +you?”</p> + +<p>“You must wait, Miss Waldron,” the psychologist +answered kindly, with his hand on the doorknob, as +though anxious for the interview to end. “What I +could tell you now would only terrify you and leave +you perplexed how to act while you were waiting to +hear from me. No; leave the letters, if you will, and +the page from the <i>Illustrated News</i>,” he said +suddenly, as the girl began gathering up her papers. +“There is only one thing more. You said you +expected an interruption here from Howard Axton, Mr. +Caryl. Is there still a good chance of his coming here +or—must I go to see him?”</p> + +<p>“Miss Waldron telephoned to me, in his presence, +to take her to see you. Afterwards she left the house +without his knowledge. As soon as he finds she has +gone, he will look up your address, and I think you +may expect him.”</p> + +<p>“Very good. Then I must set to work at once!” +He shook hands with both of them hurriedly and almost +forcing them out his door, closed it behind them, +and strode back to his desk. He picked up immediately +the second of the four letters which the girl had +given him, read it through again, and crossed the corridor +to the opposite office, which was that of a public +stenographer.</p> + +<p>“Make a careful copy of that,” he directed, “and +bring it to me as soon as it is finished.”</p> + +<p>A quarter of an hour later, when the copy had been +brought him, he compared it carefully with the +original. He put the copy in a drawer of the desk and +was apparently waiting with the four originals before +him when he heard a knock on his door and, opening +it, found that his visitor was again young Caryl.</p> + +<p>“Miss Waldron did not wish to return home at +once; she has gone to see a friend. So I came back,” +he explained, “thinking you might make a fuller +statement of your suspicions to me than you would in Miss +Waldron’s presence.”</p> + +<p>“Fuller in what respect, Mr. Caryl?”</p> + +<p>The young man reddened.</p> + +<p>“I must tell you—though you already may have +guessed—that before Miss Waldron inherited the +estate and came to believe it her duty to do as she has +done, there had been an—understanding between us, +Mr. Trant. She still has no friend to look to as she +looks to me. So, if you mean that you have +discovered through those letters—though God knows how +you can have done it—anything in Axton which +shows him unfit to marry her, you must tell me!”</p> + +<p>“As far as Axton’s past goes,” Trant replied, “his +letters show him a man of high type—moral, if I +may make a guess, above the average. There is a +most pleasing frankness about him. As to making +any further explanation than I have done—but good +Lord! what’s that?”</p> + +<p>The door of the office had been dashed loudly open, +and its still trembling frame was filled by a tall, very +angry young man in automobile costume, whose highly +colored, aristocratic looking features Trant recognized +immediately from the print in the page of the +<i>Illustrated London News</i>.</p> + +<p>“Ah, Mr. Caryl here too?—the village busybody!” +the newcomer sneered, with a slight accent +which showed his English education. “You are +insufferably mixing yourself in my affairs,” he continued, +as Caryl, with an effort, controlled himself and +made no answer. “Keep out of them! That is my +advice—take it! Does a woman have to order you +off the premises before you can understand that you +are not wanted? As for you,” he swung toward +Trant, “you are Trant, I suppose!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that is my name, Mr. Axton,” replied the +psychologist, leaning against his desk.</p> + +<p>The other advanced a step and raised a threatening +finger. “Then that advice is meant for you, too. I +want no police, no detectives, no outsider of any sort +interfering in this matter. Make no mistake; it will +be the worse for anyone who pushes himself in! I +came here at once to take the case out of your hands, +as soon as I found Miss Waldron had come here. +This is strictly my affair—keep out of it!”</p> + +<p>“You mean, Mr. Axton, that you prefer to investigate +it personally?” the psychologist inquired.</p> + +<p>“Exactly—investigate and punish!”</p> + +<p>“But you cannot blame Miss Waldron for feeling +great anxiety even on your account, as your personal +risk in making such an investigation will be so +immensely greater than anyone’s else would be.”</p> + +<p>“My risk?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly; you may be simply playing into the +hand of your strange visitor, by pursuing him unaided. +Any other’s risk,—mine, for instance, if I were to +take up the matter—would be comparatively slight, +beginning perhaps by questioning the nightwatchmen +and stableboys in the neighborhood with a view to +learning what became of the man after he left the +house; and besides, such risks are a part of my +business.”</p> + +<p>Axton halted. “I had not thought of it in that +light,” he said reflectively.</p> + +<p>“You are too courageous—foolishly courageous, +Mr. Axton.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mind if I sit down? Thank you. You +think, Mr. Trant, that an investigation such as you +suggest, would satisfy Miss Waldron—make her +easier in her mind, I mean?”</p> + +<p>“I think so, certainly.”</p> + +<p>“And it would not necessarily entail calling in the +police? You must appreciate how I shrink from +publicity—another story concerning the Axton family +exploited in the daily papers!”</p> + +<p>“I had no intention of consulting the police, or of +calling them in, at least until I was ready to make the +arrest.”</p> + +<p>“I must confess, Mr. Trant,” said Axton easily, +“that I find you a very different man from what I +had expected. I imagined an uneducated, somewhat +brutal, perhaps talkative fellow; but I find you, if I +may say so, a gentleman. Yes, I am tempted to let +you continue your investigation—on the lines you +have suggested.”</p> + +<p>“I shall ask your help.”</p> + +<p>“I will help you as much as is in my power.”</p> + +<p>“Then let me begin, Mr. Axton, with a question—pardon +me if I open a window, for the room is rather +warm—I want to know whether you can supplement +these letters, which so far are the only real evidence +against the man, by any further description of him,” +and Trant, who had thrown open the window beside +him, undisturbed by the roar that filled the office from +the traffic-laden street below, took the letters from his +pocket and opened them one by one, clumsily, upon the +desk.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid I cannot add anything to them, Mr. +Trant.”</p> + +<p>“We must get on then with what we have here,” +the psychologist hitched his chair near to the window +to get a better light on the paper in his hand, and his +cuff knocked one of the other letters off the desk onto +the windowsill. He turned, hastily but clumsily, and +touched, but could not grasp it before it slipped from +the sill out into the air. He sprang to his feet with +an exclamation of dismay, and dashed from the room. +Axton and Caryl, rushing to the window, watched the +paper, driven by a strong breeze, flutter down the +street until lost to sight among wagons; and a minute +later saw Trant appear below them, bareheaded and +excited, darting in and out among vehicles at the spot +where the paper had disappeared; but it had been +carried away upon some muddy wagon-wheel or reduced +to tatters, for he returned after fifteen minutes’ +search disheartened, vexed and empty handed.</p> + +<p>“It was the letter describing the second visit,” he +exclaimed disgustedly as he opened the door. “It +was most essential, for it contained the most minute +description of the man of all. I do not see how I can +manage well, now, without it.”</p> + +<p>“Why should you?” Caryl said in surprise at the +evident stupidity of the psychologist. “Surely, Mr. +Axton, if he can not add any other details, can at +least repeat those he had already given.”</p> + +<p>“Of course!” Trant recollected. “If you would +be so good, Mr. Axton, I will have a stenographer +take down the statement to give you the least +trouble.”</p> + +<p>“I will gladly do that,” Axton agreed; and, when +the psychologist had summoned the stenographer, he +dictated without hesitation the following letter:</p> + +<blockquote class="letter"> + + <p>“The second time that I saw the man was at Calcutta, in + the Great Eastern Hotel. He was the same man I had seen + at Cairo—shoeless and turbaned; at least I believed then + that it was a turban, but I saw later, at Cape Town, that + it was his short brown coat wrapped round his head and + tied by the sleeves under his chin. We had at the Great + Eastern two whitewashed communicating rooms opening off + a narrow, dirty corridor, along whose whitewashed walls at + a height of some two feet from the floor ran a greasy smudge + gathered from the heads and shoulders of the dark-skinned, + white-robed native servants who spent the nights sleeping + or sitting in front of their masters’ doors. Though Lawler + and I each had a servant also outside his door, I dragged a + trunk against mine after closing it—a useless precaution, + as it proved, as Lawler put no trunk against his—and + though I see now that I must have been moved by some + foresight of danger, I went to sleep afterward quite + peacefully. I awakened somewhat later in a cold and shuddering + fright, oppressed by the sense of some presence in my + room—started up in bed and looked about. My trunk was still + against the door as I had left it; and besides this, I saw + at first only the furniture of the room, which stood as when + I had gone to sleep—two rather heavy and much scratched + mahogany English chairs, a mahogany dresser with swinging + mirror, and the spindle-legged, four-post canopy bed on + which I lay. But presently, I saw more. He was there—a + dark shadow against the whitewashed wall beside the + flat-topped window marked his position, as he crouched beside + my writing desk and held the papers in a bar of white + moonlight to look at them. For an instant, the sight held me + motionless, and suddenly becoming aware that he was seen, + he leaped to his feet—a short, broad-shouldered, bulky + man—sped across the blue and white straw matting into + Lawler’s room and drove the door to behind him. I followed, + forcing the door open with my shoulder, saw Lawler just + leaping out of bed in his pajamas, and tore open Lawler’s + corridor door, through which the man had vanished. He + was not in the corridor, though I inspected it carefully, and + Lawler, though he had been awakened by the man’s passage, + had not seen him. Lawler’s servant, pretty well dazed with + sleep, told me in blank and open-mouthed amazement at my + question, that he had not seen him pass; and the other + white-draped Hindoos, gathering about me from the doors + in front of which they had been asleep, made the same + statement. None of these Hindoos resembled in the least the + man I had seen, for I looked them over carefully one by + one with this in mind. When I made a light in my room + in order to examine it thoroughly, I found nothing had been + touched except the writing desk, and even from that nothing + had been taken, although the papers had been disturbed. + The whole affair was as mysterious and inexplicable as the + man’s first appearance had been, or as his subsequent + appearance proved; for though I carefully questioned the hotel + employés in the morning I could not learn that any such + man had entered or gone out from the hotel.”</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>“That is very satisfactory indeed;” Trant’s +gratification was evident in his tone, as Axton finished. +“It will quite take the place of the letter that was lost. +There is only one thing more—so far as I know +now—in which you may be of present help to me, Mr. +Axton. Besides your friend Lawler, who was +drowned in the wreck of the <i>Gladstone</i>, and the man +Beasley—who, Miss Waldron tells me, is in a +London hospital—there were only two men in Cape +Town with you who had been in Cairo and Calcutta at +the same time you were. You do not happen to +know what has become of that German freight agent, +Schultz?”</p> + +<p>“I have not the least idea, Mr. Trant.”</p> + +<p>“Or Walcott, the American patent medicine man?”</p> + +<p>“I know no more of him than of the other. +Whether either of them is in Chicago now, is precisely +what I would like to know myself, Mr. Trant; and I +hope you will be able to find out for me.”</p> + +<p>“I will do my best to locate them. By the way, +Mr. Axton, you have no objection to my setting a +watch over your family home, provided I employ a +man who has no connection with the police?”</p> + +<p>“With that condition I think it would be a very +good idea,” Axton assented. He waited to see whether +Trant had anything more to ask him; then, with a +look of partially veiled hostility at Caryl, he went +out.</p> + +<p>The other followed, but stopped at the door.</p> + +<p>“We—that is, Miss Waldron—will hear from +you, Mr. Trant?” he asked with sudden distrust—“I +mean, you will report to her, as well as to Mr. +Axton?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly; but I hardly expect to have anything +for you for two or three days.”</p> + +<p>The psychologist smiled, as he shut the door behind +Caryl. He dropped into the chair at his desk and +wrote rapidly a series of telegrams, which he addressed +to the chiefs of police of a dozen foreign and +American cities. Then, more slowly, he wrote a message +to the Seric Medicine Company, of New York, and +another to the Nord Deutscher Lloyd.</p> + +<p>The first two days, of the three Trant had specified +to Caryl, passed with no other event than the installing +of a burly watchman at the Axton home. On the +third night this watchman reported to Miss Waldron +that he had seen and driven off, without being able to +catch, a man who was trying to force a lower window; +and the next morning—within half an hour of the +arrival of the Overland Limited from San Francisco—Trant +called up the Axton home on the telephone +with the news that he thought he had at last positive +proof of the mysterious man’s identity. At least, he +had with him a man whom he wanted Mr. Axton to +see. Axton replied that he would be very glad to see +the man, if Trant would make an appointment. In +three quarters of an hour at the Axton home, Trant +answered; and forty minutes later, having first +telephoned young Caryl, Trant with his watchman, +escorting a stranger who was broad-shouldered, weasel-eyed, +of peculiarly alert and guarded manner, reached +the Axton doorstep. Caryl had so perfectly timed his +arrival, under Trant’s instructions, that he joined them +before the bell was answered.</p> + +<p>Trant and Caryl, leaving the stranger under guard +of the watchman in the hall, found Miss Waldron and +Axton in the morning-room.</p> + +<p>“Ah! Mr. Caryl again?” said Axton sneeringly. +“Caryl was certainly not the man you wanted me to +see, Trant!”</p> + +<p>“The man is outside,” the psychologist replied. +“But before bringing him in for identification I +thought it best to prepare Miss Waldron, and perhaps +even more particularly you, Mr. Axton, for the +surprise he is likely to occasion.”</p> + +<p>“A surprise?” Axton scowled questioningly. +“Who is the fellow?—or rather, if that is what you +have come to find out from me, where did you get him, +Trant?”</p> + +<p>“That is the explanation I wish to make,” Trant +replied, with his hand still upon the knob of the door, +which he had pushed shut behind him. “You will +recall, Mr. Axton, that there were but four men whom +we know to have been in Cairo, Calcutta, and Cape +Town at the same time you were. These were Lawler, +your servant Beasley, the German Schultz, and +the American Walcott. Through the Seric Medicine +Company I have positively located Walcott; he is now +in Australia. The Nord Deutscher Lloyd has given +me equally positive assurance regarding Schultz. +Schultz is now in Bremen. Miss Waldron has accounted +for Beasley, and the Charing Cross Hospital +corroborates her; Beasley is in London. There remains, +therefore, the inevitable conclusion that either +there was some other man following Mr. Axton—some +man whom Mr. Axton did not see—or else that +the man who so pried into Mr. Axton’s correspondence +abroad and into your letters, Miss Waldron, this last +week here in Chicago, was—Lawler; and this I +believe to have been the case.”</p> + +<p>“Lawler?” the girl and Caryl echoed in amazement, +while Axton stared at the psychologist with +increasing surprise and wonder. “Lawler?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! I see,” Axton all at once smiled contemptuously. +“You believe in ghosts, Trant—you think +it is Lawler’s ghost that Miss Waldron saw!”</p> + +<p>“I did not say Lawler’s ghost,” Trant replied a +little testily. “I said Lawler’s self, in flesh and blood. +I am trying to make it plain to you,” Trant took from +his pocket the letters the girl had given him four days +before and indicated the one describing the wreck, +“that I believe the man whose death you so minutely +and carefully describe here in this letter as Lawler, +was not Lawler at all!”</p> + +<p>“You mean to say that I didn’t know Lawler?” +Axton laughed loudly—“Lawler, who had been my +companion in sixteen thousand miles of travel?”</p> + +<p>Trant turned as though to reopen the door into +the hall; then paused once more and kindly faced the +girl.</p> + +<p>“I know, Miss Waldron,” he said, “that you have +believed that Mr. Lawler has been dead these six +weeks; and it is only because I am so certain that the +man who is to be identified here now will prove to be +that same Lawler that I have thought best to let you +know in advance.”</p> + +<p>He threw open the door, and stood back to allow +the Irish watchman to enter, preceded by the weasel-faced +stranger. Then he closed the door quickly behind +him, locked it, put the key in his pocket, and spun +swiftly to see the effect of the stranger upon Axton.</p> + +<p>That young man’s face, despite his effort to control +it, flushed and paled, flushed and went white again; +but neither to Caryl nor the girl did it look at all like +the face of one who saw a dead friend alive again.</p> + +<p id="front-src">“I do not know him!” Axton’s eyes glanced +quickly, furtively about. “I have never seen him +before! Why have you brought him here? This is +not Lawler!”</p> + +<p>“No; he is not Lawler,” Trant agreed; and at his +signal the Irishman left his place and went to stand +behind Axton. “But you know him, do you not? +You have seen him before! Surely I need not recall +to you this special officer Burns of the San Francisco +detective bureau! That is right; you had better keep +hold of him, Sullivan; and now, Burns, who is this +man? Do <em>you</em> know <em>him</em>? Can you tell us who he +is?”</p> + +<p>“Do I know him?” the detective laughed. “Can I +tell you who he is? Well, rather! That is Lord +George Albany, who got into Claude Shelton’s boy +in San Francisco for $30,000 in a card game; that +is Mr. Arthur Wilmering, who came within a hair of +turning the same trick on young Stuyvesant in New +York; that—first and last—is Mr. George Lawler +himself, who makes a specialty of cards and rich men’s +sons!”</p> + +<p>“Lawler? George Lawler?” Caryl and the girl +gasped again.</p> + +<p>“But why, in this affair, he used his own name,” +the detective continued, “is more than I can see; for +surely he shouldn’t have minded another change.”</p> + +<p>“He met Mr. Howard Axton in London,” Trant +suggested, “where there was still a chance that the +card cheating in the Sussex guards was not forgotten, +and he might at any moment meet someone who +recalled his face. It was safer to tell Axton all about +it, and protest innocence.”</p> + +<p>“Howard Axton?” the girl echoed, recovering herself +at the name. “Why, Mr. Trant; if this is Mr. +Lawler, as this man says and you believe, then where +is Mr. Axton—oh, where is Howard Axton?”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid, Miss Waldron,” the psychologist +replied, “that Mr. Howard Axton was undoubtedly lost +in the wreck of the <i>Gladstone</i>. It may even have +been the finding of Howard Axton’s body that this +man described in that last letter.”</p> + +<p>“Howard Axton drowned! Then this man—”</p> + +<p>“Mr. George Lawler’s specialty being rich men’s +sons,” said the psychologist, “I suppose he joined +company with Howard Axton because he was the son of +Nimrod Axton. Possibly he did not know at first +that Howard had been disinherited, and he may not +have found it out until the second Mrs. Axton’s death, +when the estate came to Miss Waldron, and she +created a situation which at least promised an +opportunity. It was in seeking this opportunity, Miss +Waldron, among the intimate family affairs revealed +in your letters to Howard Axton that Lawler was +three times seen by Axton in his room, as described +in the first three letters that you showed to me. That +was it, was it not, Lawler?”</p> + +<p>The prisoner—for the attitude of Sullivan and +Burns left no doubt now that he was a +prisoner—made no answer.</p> + +<p>“You mean, Mr. Trant,” the eyes of the horrified +girl turned from Lawler as though even the sight of +him shamed her, “that if Howard Axton had not been +drowned, this—this man would have come anyway?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot say what Lawler’s intentions were if the +wreck had not occurred,” the psychologist replied. +“For you remember that I told you that this attempted +crime has been most wonderfully assisted by +circumstances. Lawler, cast ashore from the wreck of the +<i>Gladstone</i>, found himself—if the fourth of these +letters is to be believed—identified as Howard Axton, +even before he had regained consciousness, by your +stolen letters to Howard which he had in his pocket. +From that time on he did not have to lift a finger, +beyond the mere identification of a body—possibly +Howard Axton’s—as his own. Howard had left +America so young that identification here was +impossible unless you had a portrait; and Lawler +undoubtedly had learned from your letters that you had +no picture of Howard. His own picture, published +in the <i>News</i> over Howard’s name, when it escaped +identification as Lawler, showed him that the game +was safe and prepared you to accept him as Howard +without question. He had not even the necessity of +counterfeiting Howard’s writing, as Howard had the +correspondent’s habit of using a typewriter. Only +two possible dangers threatened him. First, was the +chance that, if brought in contact with the police, he +might be recognized. You can understand, Miss +Waldron, by his threats to prevent your consulting +them, how anxious he was to avoid this. And second, +that there might be something in Howard Axton’s +letters to you which, if unknown to him, might lead +him to compromise and betray himself in his relations +with you. His sole mistake was that, when he +attempted to search your desk for these letters, he +clumsily adopted once more the same disguise that +had proved so perplexing to Howard Axton. For he +could have done nothing that would have been more +terrifying to you. It quite nullified the effect of the +window he had fixed to prove by the man’s means +of exit and entrance that he was not a member of the +household. It sent you, in spite of his objections and +threats, to consult me; and, most important of all, +it connected these visits at once with the former ones +described in Howard’s letters, so that you brought the +letters to me—when, of course, the nature of the +crime, though not the identity of the criminal, was at +once plain to me.”</p> + +<p>“I see it was plain; but was it merely from these +letters—these typewritten letters, Mr. Trant?” cried +Caryl incredulously.</p> + +<p>“From those alone, Mr. Caryl,” the psychologist +smiled slightly, “through a most elementary, primer +fact of psychology. Perhaps you would like to know, +Lawler,” Trant turned, still smiling, to the prisoner, +“just wherein you failed. And, as you will probably +never have another chance such as the one just past +for putting the information to practical use—even if +you were not, as Mr. Burns tells me, likely to retire +for a number of years from active life—I am willing +to tell you.”</p> + +<p>The prisoner turned on Trant his face—now grown +livid—with an expression of almost superstitious +questioning.</p> + +<p>“Did you ever happen to go to a light opera with +Howard Axton, Mr. Lawler,” asked Trant, “and find +after the performance that you remembered all the +stage-settings of the piece but could not recall a +tune—you know you cannot recall a tune, Lawler—while +Axton, perhaps, could whistle all the tunes but could +not remember a costume or a scene? Psychologists +call that difference between you and Howard Axton a +difference in ‘memory types.’ In an almost masterly +manner you imitated the style, the tricks and turns +of expression of Howard Axton in your letter to Miss +Waldron describing the wreck—not quite so well in +the statement you dictated in my office. But you +could not imitate the primary difference of Howard +Axton’s mind from yours. That was where you +failed.</p> + +<p>“The change in the personality of the letter writer +might easily have passed unnoticed, as it passed Miss +Waldron, had not the letters fallen into the hands of +one who, like myself, is interested in the manifestations +of mind. For different minds are so constituted +that inevitably their processes run more easily along +certain channels than along others. Some minds have +a preference, so to speak, for a particular type of +impression; they remember a sight that they have +seen, they forget the sound that went with it; or they +remember the sound and forget the sight. There are +minds which are almost wholly ear-minds or +eye-minds. In minds of the visual, or eye, type, all +thoughts and memories and imaginations will consist +of ideas of sight; if of the auditory type, the +impressions of sound predominate and obscure the others.</p> + +<p>“The first three letters you handed me, Miss +Waldron,” the psychologist turned again to the girl, +“were those really written by Howard Axton. As I +read through them I knew that I was dealing with +what psychologists call an auditory mind. When, in +ordinary memory, he recalled an event he remembered +best its sounds. But I had not finished the first page +of the fourth letter when I came upon the description +of the body lying on the sand—a visual memory so +clear and so distinct, so perfect even to the pockets +distended with sand, that it startled and amazed +me—for it was the first distinct visual memory I +had found. As I read on I became certain that +the man who had written the first three +letters—who described a German as guttural and +remembered the American as nasal—could never +have written the fourth. Would that first man—the +man who recalled even the sound of his midnight +visitor’s shoulders when they rubbed against the +wall—fail to remember in his recollection of the +shipwreck the roaring wind and roaring sea, the screams +of men and women, the crackling of the fire? They +would have been his clearest recollection. But the +man who wrote the fourth letter recalled most clearly +that the sea was white and frothy, the men were pallid +and staring!”</p> + +<p>“I see! I see!” Caryl and the girl cried as, at the +psychologist’s bidding, they scanned together the +letters he spread before them.</p> + +<p>“The subterfuge by which I destroyed the second +letter of the set, after first making a copy of it—”</p> + +<p>“You did it on purpose? What an idiot I was!” +exclaimed Caryl.</p> + +<p>“Was merely to obviate the possibility of mistake,” +Trant continued, without heeding the interruption. +“The statement this man dictated, as it was given in +terms of ‘sight,’ assured me that he was not Axton. +When, by means of the telegraph, I had accounted for +the present whereabouts of three of the four men he +might possibly be, it became plain that he must be +Lawler. And finding that Lawler was badly wanted +in San Francisco, I asked Mr. Burns to come on and +identify him.</p> + +<p>“And the stationing of the watchman here was a +blind also, as well as his report of the man who last +night tried to force the window?” Caryl exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Trant nodded. He was watching the complete +dissolution of the swindler’s effrontery. Trant had +appreciated that Lawler had let him speak on uninterrupted +as though, after the psychologist had shown his +hand, he held in reserve cards to beat it. But his +attempt to sneer and scoff and contemn was so weak, +when the psychologist was through, that Ethel +Waldron—almost as though to spare him—arose +and motioned to Trant to tell her, whatever else he +wished, in the next room.</p> + +<p>Trant followed her a moment obediently; but at the +door he seemed to recollect himself.</p> + +<p>“I think there is nothing else now, Miss Waldron,” +he said, “except that I believe I can spare you the +reopening of your family affairs here. Burns tells me +there is more than enough against him in California to +keep Mr. Lawler there for some good time. I will go +with him, now,” and he stood aside for Caryl to go, +in his place, into the next room.</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter" id="ch09"> + +<h2>IX. <br> The Eleventh Hour</h2> + +<p>On the third Sunday in March the thermometer +dropped suddenly in Chicago a little after ten in the +evening. A roaring storm of mingled rain and snow, +driven by a riotous wind—wild even for the Great +Lakes in winter—changed suddenly to sleet, which +lay in liquid slush upon the walks. At twenty minutes +past the hour, sleet and slush had both begun to +freeze. Mr. Luther Trant, hastening on foot back to +his rooms at his club from north of the river where +he had been taking tea, observed—casually, as he +observed many things—that the soft mess underfoot +had coated with tough, rubbery ice, through which the +heels of his shoes crunched at every step while his +toes left almost no mark.</p> + +<p>But he noted this then only as a hindrance to his +haste. He had been taking the day “off” away from +both his office and his club; but fifteen minutes before, +he had called up the club for the first time that day +and had learned that a woman—a wildly terrified +and anxious woman—had been inquiring for him at +intervals during the day over the telephone, and that a +special delivery letter from the same source had been +awaiting him since six o’clock. The psychologist, +suddenly stricken with a sense of guilt and dereliction, +had not waited for a cab.</p> + +<p>As he hurried down Michigan Avenue now, he was +considering how affairs had changed with him in the +last six months. Then he had been a callow assistant +in a psychological laboratory. The very professor +whom he had served had smiled amusedly, almost +derisively, when he had declared his belief in his own +powers to apply the necromancy of the new psychology +to the detection of crime. But the delicate +instruments of the laboratory—the chronoscopes, +kymographs, plethysmographs, which made visible and +recorded unerringly, unfalteringly, the most secret +emotions of the heart and the hidden workings of the +brain; the experimental investigations of Freud and +Jung, of the German and French scientists, of +Munsterberg and others in America—had fired him with +the belief in them and in himself. In the face of +misunderstanding and derision, he had tried to trace the +criminal, not by the world-old method of the marks he +had left on things, but by the evidences which the +crime had left on the mind of the criminal himself. +And so well had he succeeded that now he could not +leave his club even on a Sunday, without disappointing +somewhere, in the great-pulsating city, an appeal to +him for help in trouble. But as he turned at the +corner into the entrance of the club, he put aside +this thought and faced the doorman.</p> + +<p>“Has she called again?”</p> + +<p>“The last time, sir, was at nine o’clock. She +wanted to know if you had received the note, and +said you were to have it as soon as you came in.”</p> + +<p>The man handed it out—a plain, coarse envelope, +with the red two-cent and the blue special delivery +stamp stuck askew above an uneven line of great, +unsteady characters addressing the envelope to Trant +at the club. Within it, ten lines spread this wild +appeal across the paper:</p> + +<blockquote class="missive"> + + <p>“If Mr. Trant will do—for some one + unknown to him—the greatest possible + service—to save perhaps a life—a life! I beg him + to come to —— Ashland Avenue between seven + and nine o’clock to-night! Eleven! For God’s + sake come—between seven and nine! Later + will be too late. Eleven! I tell you it may be + worse than useless to come after eleven! So + for God’s sake—if you are human—help me! + You will be expected.</p> + + <p class="signature">“W. Newberry.”</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>The psychologist glanced at his watch swiftly. It +was already twenty-five minutes to eleven!</p> + +<p>Besides the panic expressed by the writing itself, +the broken sentences, the reiterated appeal, most of +all the strange and disconnected recurrence three times +in the few short lines of the word eleven—which +plainly pointed to that hour as the last at which help +might avail—the characters themselves, which were +the same as those on the envelope, confirmed the +psychologist’s first impression that the note was written +by a man, a young man, too, despite the havoc that +fear and nervelessness had played with him.</p> + +<p>“You’re sure it was a woman’s voice on the +phone?” he asked quickly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; and she seemed a lady.”</p> + +<p>Trant hastily picked up the telephone on the desk; +“Hello! Is this the West End Police Station? This +is Mr. Trant. Can you send a plain-clothes man and +a patrolman at once to —— Ashland Avenue? . . . +No; I don’t know what the trouble is, but I understand +it is a matter of life and death; that’s why I +want to have help at hand if I need it. Let me know +who you are sending.”</p> + +<p>He stood impatiently tapping one heel against the +other, while he waited for the matter to be adjusted at +the police station, then swung back to receive the +name of the detective: “Yes. . . . You are +sending Detective Siler? Because he knows the +house? . . . Oh, there has been trouble there +before? . . . I see. . . . Tell him to hurry. +I will try and get there myself before eleven.”</p> + +<p>He dashed the receiver back on to the hook, caught +his coat collar close again and ran swiftly to claim a +taxicab which was just bringing another member up +to the club.</p> + +<p>The streets were all but empty; and into the +stiffening ice the chains on the tires of the driving +wheels bit sharply; so it still lacked ten minutes of +the hour, as Trant assured himself by another quick +glance at his watch, when the chauffeur checked the +motor short before the given number on Ashland +Avenue, and the psychologist jumped out.</p> + +<p>The vacant street, and the one dim light on the +first floor of the old house, told Trant the police had +not yet arrived.</p> + +<p>The porticoed front and the battered fountain with +cupids, which rose obscurely from the ice-crusted sod +of the narrow lawn at its side, showed an attempt +at fashion. In the rear, as well as Trant could see +it in the indistinct glare of the street lamps, the +building seemed to fall away into a single rambling +story.</p> + +<p>As the psychologist rang the bell and was admitted, +he saw at once that he had not been mistaken in +believing that the cab which had passed his motor only +an instant before had come from the same house; for +the mild-eyed, white-haired little man, who opened +the door almost before the bell had stopped ringing, +had not yet taken off his overcoat. Behind him, in +the dim light of a shaded lamp, an equally placid, +white-haired little woman was laying off her wraps; +and their gentle faces were so completely at variance +with the wild terror of the note that Trant now held +between his fingers in his pocket, that he hesitated +before he asked his question:</p> + +<p>“Is W. Newberry here?”</p> + +<p>“I am the Reverend Wesley Newberry,” the little +man answered. “I am no longer in the active service +of the Lord; but if it is a case of immediate necessity +and I can be of use—”</p> + +<p>“No, no!” Trant checked him. “I have not +come to ask your service as a minister, Mr. +Newberry. I am Luther Trant. But I see I must explain,” +the psychologist continued, at first nonplused +by the little man’s stare of perplexity, which showed +no recognition of the name, and then flushing with the +sudden suspicion that followed. “To-night when I +returned to my club at half-past ten, I was informed +that a woman—apparently in great anxiety—had +been trying to catch me all day; and had finally +referred me to this special delivery letter which was +delivered for me at six o’clock.” Trant extended it +to the staring little minister. “Of course, I can see +now that both telephone calls and note may have been +a hoax; but—in Heaven’s name! What is the +matter, Mr. Newberry?”</p> + +<p>The two old people had taken the note between +them. Now the little woman, her wraps only half +removed, had dropped, shaking and pale, into the +nearest chair. The little man had lost his placidity +and was shuddering in uncontrolled fear. He seemed +to shrink away; but stiffened bravely.</p> + +<p>“A hoax? I fear not, Mr. Trant!” The man +gathered himself together. “This note is not from +me; but it is, I must not deceive myself, undoubtedly +from our son Walter—Walter Newberry. This writing, +though broken beyond anything I have seen from +him in his worst dissipations is undoubtedly his. +Yet Walter is not here, Mr. Trant! I mean—I +mean, he should not be here! There have been +reasons—we have not seen or heard of Walter for +two months. He can not be here now—surely he +can not be here now, unless—unless—my wife and +I went to a friend’s this evening; this is as though the +writer had known we were going out! We left at +half-past six and have only just returned. Oh, +it is impossible that Walter could have come here! +But Martha, we have not seen Adele!” The livid +terror grew stronger on his rosy, simple face as he +turned to his wife. “We have not seen Adele, +Martha, since we came in! And this gentleman tells +us that a woman in great trouble was sending for him. +If Walter had been here—be strong, Martha; be +strong! But come—let us look together!”</p> + +<p>He had turned, with no further word of explanation, +and pattered excitedly to the stairs, followed by +his wife and Trant.</p> + +<p>“Adele! Adele!” the old man cried anxiously, +knocking at the door nearest the head of the stairs; +and when he received no answer, he flung the door +open.</p> + +<p>“Dreadful! Dreadful!” he wrung his hands, while +his wife sank weakly down upon the upper step, as +she saw the room was empty. “There is something +very wrong here, Mr. Trant! This is the bedroom of +my daughter-in-law, Walter’s wife. She should be +here, at this hour! My son and his wife are +separated and do not live together. My son, who has +been unprincipled and uncontrollable from his childhood +up, made a climax to his career of dissipation +two months ago by threatening the life of his wife +because she refused—because she found it impossible +to live longer with him. It was a most painful affair; +the police were even called in. We forbade Walter +the house. So if she called to you because he was +threatening her again, and he returned here to-night to +carry out his threat, then Adele—Adele was indeed +in danger!”</p> + +<p>“But why should <em>he</em> have written me that note?” +Trant returned crisply. “However—if we believe +the note at all—there is surely now no time to lose, +Mr. Newberry. We must search the entire house at +once and make sure, at least, that Mrs. Walter +Newberry is not in some other part of it!”</p> + +<p>“You are right—quite right!” the little man +pattered rapidly from door to door, throwing the rooms +open to the impatient scrutiny of the psychologist; +and while they were still engaged in this search upon +the upper floor, a tall clock on the landing of the +stairs struck eleven!</p> + +<p>So strongly had the warning of the note impressed +Trant that, at the signal of the hour, he stopped +short; the others, seeing him, stopped too, and stared +at him with blanched faces, while all three +apprehensively strained their ears for some sound which +might mark the note’s fulfillment. And scarcely had +the last deep stroke of the hour ceased to resound in +the hall, when suddenly, sharply, and without other +warning, a revolver shot rang out, followed so swiftly +by three others that the four reports rang almost +as one through the silent house. The little woman +screamed and seized her husband’s arm. His hand, +in turn, hung upon Trant. The psychologist, turning +his head to be surer of the direction of the sound, +for an instant more stared indecisively; for though +the shots were plainly inside the house, the echoes +made it impossible to locate them exactly. But +almost immediately a fifth shot, seeming louder and +more distinct in its separateness, startled them again.</p> + +<p>“It is in the billiard room!” the wife shrieked, +with a woman’s quicker location of indoor sounds.</p> + +<p>The little minister ran to seize the lamp, as Trant +turned toward the rear of the house. The woman +started with them; but at that instant the doorbell +rang furiously; and the woman stopped in trembling +confusion. The psychologist pushed her husband on, +however; and taking the lamp from the elder man’s +shaking hand, he now led Newberry into the +one-story addition which formed the back part of the +house. Here he found that the L shaped passage +into which they ran, opened at one end apparently on +to a side porch. Newberry, now taking the lead, +hurried down the other branch of the passage past a +door which was plainly that of a kitchen, came to +another further down the passage, tried it, and recoiled +in fresh bewilderment to find it locked.</p> + +<p>“It is never locked—never! Something dreadful +must have been happening in here!” he wrung his +hands again weakly.</p> + +<p>“We must break it down then!” Trant drew the +little man aside, and, bracing himself against the +opposite wall, threw his shoulder against it +once—twice, and even a third time, ineffectually, till a +uniformed patrolman, and another man in plain clothes, +coming after them with Mrs. Newberry, added their +weight to Trant’s, and the door crashed open.</p> + +<p>A blast of air from the outside storm instantly blew +out both the lamp in Trant’s hand and another which +had been burning in the room. The woman screamed +and threw herself toward some object on the floor +which the flare of the failing lights had momentarily +revealed; but her husband caught in the darkness at +her wrist and drew her to him. Siler and the patrolman, +swearing softly, felt for matches and tried vainly +in the draft to relight the lamp which Trant had +thrust upon the table; for the psychologist had dashed +to the window which was letting in the outside storm, +stared out, then closed it and returned to light the +lamp, which belonged in the room, as the plain-clothes +man now lit the other.</p> + +<p>This room which Mrs. Newberry had called the +billiard room, he saw then, was now used only for +storage purposes and was littered with the old rubbish +which accumulates in every house; but the arrangement +of the discarded furniture showed plainly the +room had recently been fitted for occupancy as well +as its means allowed. That the occupant had taken +care to conceal himself, heavy sheets of brown paper +pasted over the panes of all the windows—including +that which Trant had found open—testified; that the +occupant had been well tended, a full tray of +food—practically untouched—and the stubs of at least a +hundred cigarettes flung in the fireplace, made plain. +These things Trant appreciated only after the first +swift glance which showed him a huddled figure with +its head half under a musty lounge which stood +furthest from the window. It was not the body of a +woman, but that of a man not yet thirty, whose rather +handsome face was marred by deep lines of dissipation. +The mother’s shuddering cry of recognition +had showed that this was Walter Newberry.</p> + +<p>Trant knelt beside the officers working over the +body; the blood had been flowing from a bullet wound +in the temple, but it had ceased to flow. A small, +silver-mounted automatic revolver, such as had been +recently widely advertised for the protection of +women, lay on the floor close by, with the shells which +had been ejected as it was fired. The psychologist +straightened.</p> + +<p>“We have come too late,” he said simply to the +father. “It was necessary, as he foresaw, to get +here before eleven, if we were to help him; for he is +dead. And now—” he checked himself, as the little +woman clutched her husband and buried her face in +his sleeve, and the little man stared up at him with +a chalky face—“it will be better for you to wait +somewhere else till we are through here.”</p> + +<p>“In the name of mercy, Mr. Trant!” Newberry +cried miserably, as the psychologist picked up a lamp +and lighted the two old people into the hall, “what is +this terrible thing that has happened here? What is +it—Oh, what is it, Mr. Trant? And where—where +is Adele?”</p> + +<p>“I am here, father; I am here!” a new voice broke +clearly and calmly through the confusion, and the +light of Trant’s lamp fell on a slight but stately girl +advancing down the hallway. “And you,” she said +as composedly to the psychologist, though Trant could +see now that her self-possession was belied by the +nervous picking of her fingers at her dress and her +paleness, which grew greater as she met his eyes, +“are Mr. Trant—and you came too late!”</p> + +<p>“You are—Mrs. Walter Newberry?” Trant returned. +“You were the one who was calling me up +this morning and this afternoon?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she said. “I was his wife. So he is +dead!”</p> + +<p>She took no heed of the quick glance Trant flashed +to assure himself that she spoke in this way before she +could have seen the body from her place in the hall; +and she turned calmly still to the old man who was +clinging to her crying nervously now, “Adele! Adele! +Adele!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, dear father and dear mother!” she began +compassionately. “Walter came back—” she broke +off suddenly; and Trant saw her grow pale as death +with staring eyes fixed over his shoulder on Siler, +who had come to the doorway. “You—you brought +the police, Mr. Trant! I—I thought you had +nothing to do with the police!”</p> + +<p>“Never mind that,” the plain-clothes man checked +Trant’s answer. “You were saying your husband +came home, Mrs. Newberry—then what?”</p> + +<p>“Then—but that is all I know; I know nothing +whatever about it.”</p> + +<p>“Your shoes and skirt are wet, Mrs. Newberry,” +the plain-clothes man pointed significantly.</p> + +<p>“I—I heard the shots!” she caught herself up +with admirable self-control. “That was all. I ran +over to the neighbors’ for help; but I could get no +one.”</p> + +<p>“Then you’ll have a chance to make your statement +later,” Siler answered in a business-like way. “Just +now you’d better look after your father and mother.”</p> + +<p>He took the lamp from Trant and held it to light +them down the hall, then turned swiftly to the +patrolman: “She is going upstairs with them; watch the +front stairs and see that she does not go out. If she +comes down the back stairs we can see her.”</p> + +<p>As the patrolman went out, the plain-clothes man +turned back into the room, leaving the door ajar so +that the rear stairs were visible. “These husband +and wife cases, Mr. Trant,” he said easily. “You +think—and the man thinks, too—the woman will +stand everything; and she does—till he does one more +thing too much, and, all of a sudden, she lets him +have it!”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you think it’s a bit premature,” the psychologist +suggested, “to assume that she killed him?”</p> + +<p>“Didn’t you see how she shut up when she saw +me?” Siler’s eyes met Trant’s with a flash of +opposition. “That was because she recognized me and +knew that, having been here last time there was +trouble, I knew that he had been threatening her. It’s a +cinch! Regular minister’s son, he was; the old man’s +a missionary, you know; spent his life till two years +ago trying to turn Chinese heathens into Christians. +And this Walter—our station blotter’d be black with +his doings; only, ever since he made China too hot to +hold him and the old man brought him back here, +everything’s been hushed up on the old man’s account. +But I happen to have been here before; and all winter +I’ve known there’d be a killing if he ever came +back. Hell! I tell you it was a relief to me to see +it was him on the floor when that door went down. +There are no powder marks, you see,” the officer led +Trant’s eyes back to the wound in the head of the +form beside the lounge. “He could not have shot +himself. He was shot from further off than he could +reach. Besides, it’s on the left side.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I saw,” Trant replied.</p> + +<p>“And that little automatic gun,” the officer stooped +now and picked up the pistol that lay on the floor +beside the body, “is hers. I saw it the last time I was +called in here.”</p> + +<p>“But how could he have known—if she shot him—that +she was going to kill him just at eleven?” +Trant objected, pulling from his pocket the note, +which old Mr. Newberry had returned to him, and +handing it to Siler. “He sent that to me; at least, +the father says it is in his handwriting.”</p> + +<p>“You mean,” Siler’s eyes rose slowly from the paper, +“that she must have told him what she was going +to do—premeditated murder?”</p> + +<p>“I mean that the first fact which we have—and +which certainly seems to me wholly incompatible with +anything which you have suggested so far—is that +Walter Newberry foresaw his own death and set the +hour of its accomplishment; and that his wife—it +is plain at least to me—when she telephoned so often +for me to-day, was trying to help him to escape from +it. Now what are the other facts?” Trant went on +rapidly, paying no attention to the obstinate glance in +the eyes of the officer. “I distinctly heard five +shots—four together and then, after a second or so, one. +You heard five?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“And five shots,” the psychologist’s quick glances +had been taking in the finer details of the room, “are +accounted for by the bullet holes—one through the +lower pane of the window I found open, which shows +it was down and closed during the shooting, as there +is no break in the upper half; one on the plaster there +to the side; one under the moulding there four feet +to the right; and one more, in the plaster almost as +far to the left. The one that killed him makes five.”</p> + +<p>“Exactly!” Siler followed Trant’s indication +triumphantly, “the fifth in his head! The first four +went off in their struggle; and then she got away and, +with the fifth, shot him.”</p> + +<p>“But the shells,” Trant continued; “for that sort +of revolver ejects the shells as they are fired—and I +see only four. Where is the fifth?”</p> + +<p>“You’re trying to fog this thing all up, Mr. +Trant.”</p> + +<p>“No; I’m trying to clear it. How could anyone +have left the room after the firing of the last shot? +No one could have gone through the door and not +been seen by us in the hall; besides the door was +bolted on the inside,” Trant pointed to the two bolts. +“No one could have left except by the window—this +window which was open when we came in, but +which must have been closed when one, at least, of the +shots was being fired. You remember I went at once +to it and looked out, but saw nothing.”</p> + +<p>Trant re-crossed the room swiftly and threw the +window open, intently re-examining it. On the outside +it was barred with a heavy grating, but he saw +that the key to the grating was in the lock.</p> + +<p>“Bring the lamp,” he said to the plain-clothes man; +and as Siler screened the flame against the +wind—“Ah!” he continued, “look at the ice cracked from +it there—it must have been swung open. He must +have gone out this way!”</p> + +<p>“He?” Siler repeated.</p> + +<p>The plain-clothes man had squeezed past Trant, as +the grating swung back, and lamp in hand had let himself +easily down to the ice-covered walk below the window, +and was holding his light, shielded, just above +the ground. “It was she,” he cried triumphantly—“the +woman, as I told you! Look at her marks +here!” He showed by the flickering light the double, +sharp little semi-circles of a woman’s high heels cut +into the ice; and, as Trant dropped down beside him, +the police detective followed the sharp little heel +marks to the side door of the house, where they turned +and led into the kitchen entry.</p> + +<p>“Premature, was I—eh?” Siler triumphed laconically. +“We are used to these cases, Mr. Trant; we +know what to expect in ’em.”</p> + +<p>Trant stood for an instant studying the sheet of ice. +In this sheltered spot, freezing had not progressed so +fast as in the open streets. Here, as an hour before +on Michigan Avenue, he saw that his heels and those +of the police officer at every step cut through the +crust, while their toes left no mark. But except for +the marks they themselves had made and the crescent +stamp of the woman’s high heels leading in sharp, +clear outline from the window to the side steps of the +house, there were no other imprints. Then he followed +the detective into the side door of the house.</p> + +<p>In the passage they met the patrolman. “She came +down stairs just now,” said that officer briskly, “and +went in here.”</p> + +<p>Siler laid his hand on the door of the little sitting-room +the patrolman indicated, but turned to speak a +terse command to the man over his shoulder; “Go +back to that room and see that things are kept as they +are. Look for the fifth shell. We got four; find the +other!”</p> + +<p>Then, with a warning glance at Trant, he pushed +the door open.</p> + +<p>The girl faced the two calmly as they entered; but +the whiteness of her lips showed Trant, with swift +appreciation, that she could bear no more and was +reaching the end of her restraint.</p> + +<p>“You’ve had a little while to think this over, Mrs. +Newberry,” the plain-clothes man said, not unkindly, +“and I guess you’ve seen it’s best to make a clean +breast of it. Mr. Walter Newberry has been in that +room quite a while—the room shows it—though his +father and mother seem not to have known about it.”</p> + +<p>“He”—she hesitated, then answered suddenly and +collectively, “he had been there six days.”</p> + +<p>“You started to tell us about it,” Trant helped her. +“You said ‘Walter came home’—but, what brought +him here? Did he come to see you?”</p> + +<p>“No;” the girl’s pale cheeks suddenly burned blood +red and went white again, as she made her decision. +“It was fear—deadly fear that drove him here; but +I do not know of what.”</p> + +<p>“You are going to tell us all you know, are you +not, Mrs. Newberry?” the psychologist urged +quietly—“how he came here; and particularly how both he +and you could so foresee his death that you summoned +me as you did!”</p> + +<p>“Yes; yes—I will tell you,” the girl clenched and +unclenched her hands, as she gathered herself together. +“Six nights ago, Monday night, Mr. Trant, Walter +came here. It was after midnight, and he did not +ring the bell, but waked me by throwing pieces of +ice and frozen sod against my window. I saw at once +that something was the matter with him; so I went +down and talked to him through the closed door—the +side door here; for I was afraid at first to let him +in, in spite of his promises not to hurt me. He told +me his very life was in danger—and he had no other +place to go; and he must hide here—hide; and I must +not let anyone—even his mother or father—know +he had come back; that I was the only one he could +trust! So—he was my husband—and I let him +in!</p> + +<p>“I started to run from him, when I had opened +the door; for I was afraid—afraid; but he ran at +once into the old billiard-room—the store room +there—and tried the locks of the door and the window +gratings,” the sensitive voice ran on rapidly, “and +then threw himself all sweating cold on the lounge +there, and went to sleep in a stupor. I thought at +first it was another frenzy from whiskey or—or +opium. And I stayed there. But just at morning +when he woke up, I saw it wasn’t that—but it was +fear—fear—fear, such as I’d never seen before. +He rolled off the couch and half hid under it till I’d +pasted brown paper over the window panes—there +were no curtains. But he wouldn’t tell me what he +was afraid of.</p> + +<p>“He got so much worse as the days went by that +he couldn’t sleep at all; he walked the floor all the +time and he smoked continually, so that nearly every +day I had to slip out and get him cigarettes. He got +more and more afraid of every noise outside and of +every little sound within; and it made him so much +worse when I told him I had to tell someone else—even +his mother—that I didn’t dare to. He said other +people were sure to find out that he was there, then, +and they would kill him—kill him! He was always +worst at eleven—eleven o’clock at night; and he +dreaded especially eleven o’clock Sunday +night—though I couldn’t find out what or why!</p> + +<p>“I gave him my pistol—the one—the one you +saw on the floor in <em>there</em>. It was Friday then; and +he had been getting worse and worse all the time. +Eleven o’clock every night I managed to be with him; +and no one found us out. I was glad I gave him the +pistol until this—until this morning. I never +thought till then that he might use it to kill himself; +but this morning—Sunday morning, when I came to +him, he was talking about it—denying it; but I saw +it was in his mind! ‘I shan’t shoot myself!’ I heard +him saying over and over again, when I came to the +door. ‘They can’t make me shoot myself! I shan’t! +I shan’t!’—over and over, like that. And when he +had let me in and I saw him, then I knew—I knew he +meant to do it! He asked me if it wasn’t Sunday; +and went whiter when I told him it was! So then I +told him he had to trust someone now; this couldn’t +go on; and I spoke to him about Mr. Trant; and he +said he’d try him; and he wrote the letter I mailed +you—special delivery—so you could come when his +father and mother were out—but he never once let +go my pistol; he was wild—wild with fear. Every +time I could get away to the telephone, I tried to get +Mr. Trant; and the last time I got back—it was +awful! It was hardly ten, but he was walking up +and down with my pistol in his hand, whispering +strange things over and over to himself, saying most +of anything, ‘No one can make me do it! No one +can make me do it—even when it’s eleven—even +when it’s eleven!’—and staring—staring at his +watch which he’d taken out and laid on the table; +staring and staring so—so that I knew I must get +someone before eleven—and at last I was running +next door for help—for anyone—for anything—when—when +I heard the shots—I heard the shots!”</p> + +<p>She sank forward and buried her face in her hands; +rent by tearless sobs. Her fingers, white from the +pressure, made long marks on her cheeks, showing +livid even in the pallor of her face. But Siler pursed +his lips toward Trant, and laid his hand upon her +arm, sternly.</p> + +<p>“Steady, steady, Mrs. Newberry!” the plain-clothes +man warned. “You can not do that now! +You say you were with your husband a moment before +the shooting, but you were not in the room when +he was killed?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; yes!” the woman cried.</p> + +<p>“You went out the door the last time?”</p> + +<p>“The door? Yes; yes; of course the door! Why +not the door?”</p> + +<p>“Because, Mrs. Newberry,” the detective replied +impressively, “just at, or a moment after, the time +of the shooting, a woman left that room by the +window—unlocked the grating and went out the +window. We have seen her marks. And you were that +woman, Mrs. Newberry!”</p> + +<p>The girl gasped and her eyes wavered to Trant; +but seeing no help there now, she recovered herself +quickly.</p> + +<p>“Of course! Why, of course!” she cried. “The +last time I went out, I did go out the window! It was +to get the neighbors—didn’t I tell you? So I went +out the window!”</p> + +<p>“Yes; we know you went out the window, Mrs. +Newberry,” Siler responded mercilessly. “But we +know, too, you did not even start for the neighbors. +We have traced your tracks on the ice straight to the +side door and into the house! Now, Mrs. Newberry, +you’ve tried to make us believe that your husband +killed himself. But that won’t do! Isn’t it a little +too strange, if you left by the window while your +husband was still alive, that he let the window stay open +and the grating unlocked? Yes; it’s altogether too +strange. You left him dead; and what we want to +know—and I’m asking you straight out—is how +you did it?”</p> + +<p>“How I did it?” the girl repeated mechanically; +then with sharp agony and starting eyes: “How <em>I</em> +did it! Oh, no, no, I did not do it! I was there—I +have not told all the truth! But when I saw you,” her +horrified gaze resting on Siler, “and remembered you +had been here before when he—he threatened me, +my only thought was to hide for his sake and for +theirs,” she indicated the room above, where she had +taken her husband’s parents, “that he had tried to +carry out his threat. For before he killed himself, +he tried to kill me! That’s how he fired those first +four shots. He tried to kill me first!”</p> + +<p>“Well, we’re getting nearer to it,” Siler approved.</p> + +<p>“Yes; now I have told you all!” the girl cried. +“Oh, I have now—I have! The last time he let me +in, it was almost eleven—eleven! He had my pistol +in his hand, waiting—waiting! And at last he +cried out it was eleven; and he raised the pistol and +shot straight at me—with the face—the face of a +demon with fear. It was no use to try to speak to +him, or to get away; I fell on my knees before him, +just as he shot at me again and again—aiming +straight, not at my eyes, but at my hair; and he shot +again! But again he missed me; and his face—his +face was so terrible that—that I covered my own +face as he aimed at me again, staring always at my +hair. And that time, when he shot, I heard him fall +and saw—saw that he had shot himself and he was +dead!</p> + +<p>“Then I heard your footsteps coming to the door; +and I saw for the first time that Walter had opened +the window before I came in. And—all without +thinking of anything except that if I was found there +everybody would know he’d tried to kill me, I took up +the key of the grating from the table where he had +laid it, and went out!”</p> + +<p>“I can’t force you to confess, if you will not, Mrs. +Newberry,” Siler said meaningly, “though no jury, +after they learned how he had threatened you, would +convict you if you pleaded self-defense. We know +he didn’t kill himself; for he couldn’t have fired that +shot! And the case is complete, I think,” the detective +shot a finally triumphant glance at Trant, “unless +Mr. Trant wants to ask you something more.”</p> + +<p>“I do!” Trant quietly spoke for the first time. +“I want to ask Mrs. Newberry—since she did not +actually see her husband fire the last shot that killed +him—whether she was directly facing him as she +knelt. It is most essential to know whether or not +her head was turned to one side.”</p> + +<p>“Why, what do you mean, Mr. Trant?” the girl +looked up wonderingly; for his tone seemed to +promise he was coming to her defense.</p> + +<p>“Suppose he might have shot himself before her, as +she says—what’s the difference whether she heard +him with her head straight or her head turned?” the +police detective demanded sneeringly.</p> + +<p>“A fundamental difference in this case, Siler,” +Trant replied, “if taken in connection with that other +most important factor of all—that Walter Newberry +foretold the hour of his own death. But answer me, +Mrs. Newberry—if you can be certain.”</p> + +<p>“I—certainly I can never forget how I crouched +there with every muscle strained. I was directly +facing him,” the girl answered.</p> + +<p>“That is very important!” The psychologist took +a rapid turn or two up and down the room. “Now +you told us that your husband, during the days he was +shut up in that room, talked to himself almost +continuously. Toward the end, you say, he repeated over +and over again such sentences as ‘No one can make me +do it!’ Can you remember any others?”</p> + +<p>“I couldn’t make much out of anything else, Mr. +Trant,” the girl replied, after thinking an instant. +“He seemed to have hallucinations so much of the +time.”</p> + +<p>“Hallucinations?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; he seemed to think I was singing to him—as +I used to sing to him, you know, when we were +first married—and he would catch hold of me and +say, ‘Don’t—don’t—don’t sing!’ Or at other +times he would clutch me and tell me to sing +low—sing low!”</p> + +<p>“Anything else?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing else even so sensible as that,” the girl +responded. “Many things he said made me think he +had lost his mind. He would often stare at me in an +absorbed way, looking me over from head to foot, and +say, ‘Look here; if anyone asks you—anyone at +all—whether your mother had large or small feet, +say small—never admit she had large feet, or you’ll +never get in. Do you understand?’ ”</p> + +<p>“What?” The psychologist stood for several moments +in deep thought; then his eyes flashed suddenly +with excitement. “What!” he cried again, clutching +the chair-back as he leaned toward her. “He said +that to you when he was absorbed?”</p> + +<p>“A dozen times at least, Mr. Trant,” the girl +replied, staring at him in startled wonder.</p> + +<p>“Remarkable! Yes; this is extraordinary!” +Trant strode up and down excitedly. “Nobody could +have hoped for so fortunate a confirmation of the +evidence in this remarkable case. We knew that +Walter Newberry foresaw his own death; now we +actually get from him himself, the key—the possibly +complete explanation of his danger—”</p> + +<p>“Explanation!” shouted the police detective. +“I’ve heard no explanation! You’re throwing an +impressive bluff, Mr. Trant; but I’ve heard nothing yet +to make me doubt that Newberry met his death at +the hands of his wife; and I’ll arrest her for his +murder!”</p> + +<p>“I can’t prevent your arresting Mrs. Newberry,” +Trant swung to look the police officer between the +eyes hotly. “But I can tell you—if you care to hear +it—how Walter Newberry died! He was not shot +by his wife; he did not die by his own hand, as she +believes and has told you. The fifth shot—you have +not found the fifth shell yet, Siler; and you will not +find it, for it was not fired either by Walter Newberry +or his wife. As she knelt, blinding her eyes as she +faced her husband, Mrs. Newberry could not know +whether the fifth shot sounded in front or behind her. +If her head was not turned to one side, as she says +it was not, then—and this is a simple psychological +fact, Siler, though it seems to be unknown to you—it +would be impossible for her to distinguish between +sounds directly ahead and directly behind. It was +not at her—at her hair—that her husband fired +the four shots whose empty shells we found, but over +her head at the window directly behind her. And it +was through this just opened window that the fifth +shot came and killed him—the shot at eleven +o’clock—which he had foreseen and dreaded!”</p> + +<p>“You must think I’m easy, Mr. Trant,” said the +police officer derisively. “You can’t clear her by +dragging into this business some third person who +never existed. For there were no marks, and marks +would have been left by anybody who came to the +window!”</p> + +<p>“Marks!” Trant echoed. “If you mean marks +on the window-sill and floor, I cannot show you any. +But the murderer did leave, of course, one mark which +in the end will probably prove final, even to you, Siler. +The shell of the fifth shot is missing because he +carried it away in his revolver. But the bullet—it will +be a most remarkable coincidence, Siler, if you find +that the bullet which killed young Newberry was the +same as the four we know were shot from his wife’s +little automatic revolver!”</p> + +<p>“But the ice—the ice under the window!” +shouted the detective. “You saw for yourself how +her heels and ours cut through the crust; and you saw +that there were no other heel marks, as there must have +been if anyone had stood outside the window to look +through it, or to fire through it, as you say!”</p> + +<p>“When you have reached the point, Siler,” said +Trant, more quietly, “where you can think of some +class of men who would have left no heel marks but +who could have produced the effect on young +Newberry’s mind which his wife has described, you will +have gone far toward the discovery of the real +murderer of Walter Newberry. In the meantime, I have +clews enough; and I hope to find help, which cannot +be given me by the city police, to enable me to bring +the murderer to justice. I will ask you, Mrs. +Newberry,” he glanced toward the girl, “to let me have +a photograph of your husband, or”—he hesitated, +unable to tell from her manner whether she had heard +him—“I will stop on my way out to ask his +photograph from his father.”</p> + +<p>He glanced once more from the detective to the +pale girl, who, since she received notice of her arrest, +had stood as though cut from marble, with small +hands tightly clenched and blind eyes fixed on vacancy; +then he left them.</p> + +<p>The next morning’s papers, which carried startling +headlines of the murder of Walter Newberry, +brought Police Detective Siler a feeling of satisfaction +with his own work. The detective, it is true, had been +made a little doubtful of his own assumptions by +Trant’s confident suggestion of a third person as the +murderer. But he was reassured by the newspaper +accounts, though they contained merely an elaboration +of his own theory of an attack by the missionary’s +dissipated son on his wife and her shooting him in +self-defense, which Siler had successfully impressed not +only on the police but on the reporters as well.</p> + +<p>Even the discovery on the second morning that the +bullet which had now been taken from young +Newberry’s body was of .38 calibre and, as Trant had +predicted, not at all similar to the steel .32 calibre +bullets shot by the little automatic pistol which had +belonged to young Mrs. Newberry, did not disturb +the police officer’s self-confidence, though it obviously +weakened the case against the wife. And when, on +the day following, Siler received orders to report at +an hour when he was not ordinarily on duty at the +West End Police Station, where Mrs. Newberry was +still held under arrest, he pushed open, with an air +of importance, the door of the captain’s room, to +which the sharp nod of the desk sergeant had +directed him.</p> + +<p>The detective’s first glance showed him the room’s +three occupants—the huge figure of Division Inspector +of Police Walker, lolling in the chair before the +captain’s desk; a slight, dark man—unknown to +Siler—near the window; and Luther Trant at the +end of the room busy arranging a somewhat +complicated apparatus.</p> + +<p>Trant, with a short nod of greeting, at once called +Siler to his aid.</p> + +<p>With the detective’s half-suspicious, half-respectful +assistance, the psychologist stretched across the end +of the room a white sheet about ten feet long, three +feet high, and divided into ten rectangles by nine +vertical lines. Opposite this, and upon a table about ten +feet away, he set up a small electrical contrivance, +consisting of two magnets and wire coils supporting a +small, round mirror about an inch in diameter and so +delicately set upon an axis that it turned at the +slightest current coming to the coils below it. In front +of this little mirror Trant placed a shaded electric +lamp in such a position that its light was reflected +from the mirror upon the sheet at the end of the room. +Then he put down a carbon plate and a zinc plate at +the edge of the table; set a single cell battery under +the table; connected the battery with the coils +controlling the mirror, and connected them also with the +zinc and carbon plates.</p> + +<p>“I suppose,” Siler burst out finally with growing +curiosity which even the presence of the inspector +could not restrain, “I haven’t got any business to ask +what all this machinery is for?”</p> + +<p>“I was about to explain,” Trant answered.</p> + +<p>The psychologist rested his hands lightly on the +plates upon the table; and, as he did so, a slight and, +in fact, imperceptible current passed through him from +the battery; but it was enough to slightly move the +light reflected upon the screen.</p> + +<p>“This apparatus,” the psychologist continued, as +he saw even Walker stare strangely at this result, “is +the newest electric psychometer—or ‘the soul +machine,’ as it is already becoming popularly known. +It is made after the models of Dr. Peterson, of +Columbia University, and of the Swiss psychologist +Jung, of Zurich, and is probably the most delicate and +efficient instrument there is for detecting and +registering human emotion—such as anxiety, fear, and +the sense of guilt. Like the galvanometer which you +saw me use to catch Caylis, the Bronson murderer, in +the first case where I worked with the police, Inspector +Walker,” the psychologist turned to his tall friend, +“this psychometer—which is really an improved and +much more spectacular galvanometer—is already in +use by physicians to get the truth from patients when +they don’t want to tell it. No man can control the +automatic reflexes which this apparatus was particularly +designed to register when the subject is examined +with his hands merely resting upon these two plates! +As you see,” he placed his hands in the test position +again, “these are arranged so that the very slight +current passing through my arms—so slight that I +cannot feel it at all—moves that mirror and swings the +reflected light upon the screen according to the +amount of current coming through me. As you see +now, the light stays almost steady in the center of the +screen, because the amount of current coming through +me is very slight, as I am not under any stress or +emotion of any sort. But if I were confronted suddenly +with an object to arouse fear—if, for instance, it +reminded me of a crime I was trying to conceal—I +might be able to control every other evidence of my +fright, but I could not control the involuntary +sweating of my glands and the automatic changes in the +blood pressure which allow the electric current to +flow more freely through me. The light would then +register immediately the amount of my emotion by the +distance it swung along the screen. But I will give +you a much more perfect demonstration of the instrument,” +the psychologist concluded, while all three examined +it with varying degrees of interest and respect, +“during the next half hour while I am making the +test that I have planned to determine the murderer of +Walter Newberry.”</p> + +<p>“You mean,” cried Siler, “you are going to test +the woman?”</p> + +<p>“I might have thought it necessary to test Mrs. +Newberry,” Trant answered, “if the evidence at the +house of the presence of a third person who was the +murderer had not been so plain as to make any test +of her useless.”</p> + +<p>“Then you—you still stick to that?” Siler +demanded derisively.</p> + +<p>“Thanks to Mr. Ferris, who is a special agent of the +United States government,” Trant motioned to the +slight, dark man who was the fourth member of the +party, “I have been able to fix upon four men, one of +whom, I feel absolutely certain, shot and killed young +Newberry through the window of the billiard-room +that night. Inspector Walker has had all four +arrested and brought here. Mr. Ferris’s experience and +thorough knowledge enabled me to lay my hands on +them much more easily than I had feared, though I +was able to go to him with information which would +have made their detection almost certain sooner or +later.”</p> + +<p>“You mean information you got at the house?” +asked Siler, less derisively, as he caught the attentive +attitude of the inspector.</p> + +<p>“Just so, Siler; and it was as much at your disposal +as mine,” Trant replied. “It seemed to mean +nothing to you that Walter Newberry knew the hour +at which he was to die—which made it seem more +like an execution than a murder; or that in his terror +he raved that ‘he would not do it—that they could +not make him do it’—plainly meaning commit suicide. +Perhaps you don’t know that it is an Oriental +custom, under certain conditions, to allow a man who +has been sentenced to death, the alternative of carrying +out the decree upon himself before a certain day +and hour that has been decided upon. But certainly +his ravings, as told us by his wife, ought to have given +you a clew, if you had heard only that sentence which +she believed an injunction not to sing loudly, but which +was in reality a name—Sing lo!”</p> + +<p>“Then—it was a Chinaman!” cried Siler, +astounded.</p> + +<p>“It could hardly have been any other sort of man, +Siler. For there is no other to whom it could be +commended as a matter of such vital importance +whether his mother had small feet or large, as was +shown in the other sentence Mrs. Newberry repeated +to us. But to a Chinaman that fact is of prime +importance; for it indicates whether he is of low birth, +when his mother would have had large feet, or of +high, in which case his women of the last generation +would have had their feet bound and made artificially +smaller. It was that sentence that sent me to Mr. +Ferris.”</p> + +<p>“I see—I see!” exclaimed the crest-fallen detective. +“But if it was a Chinaman, then, even with +that thing,” he pointed to the instrument Trant had +just finished arranging, “you’ll never get the truth +out of him. You can’t get anything out of a +Chinaman! Inspector Walker will tell you that!”</p> + +<p>“I know, Siler,” Trant answered, “that it is absolutely +hopeless to expect a confession from a Chinaman; +they are so accustomed to control the obvious +signs of fear, guilt, the slightest trace or hint of +emotion, even under the most rigid examination, that it +had come to be regarded as a characteristic of the +race. But the new psychology does not deal with +those obvious signs; it deals with the involuntary +reactions in the blood and glands which are common to +all men alike—even to Chinamen! We have in +here,” the psychologist looked to the door of an inner +room, “the four Chinamen—Wong Bo, Billy Lee, +Sing Lo, and Sin Chung Ming.</p> + +<p>“My first test is to see which of them—if +any—were acquainted with Walter Newberry; and next +who, if any of them, knew where he lived. For this +purpose I have brought here Newberry’s photograph +and a view of his father’s house, which I had +taken yesterday.” He stooped to one of his suit-cases, +and took out first a dozen photographs of young men, +among them Newberry’s; and about twenty views of +different houses, among which he mixed the one of +the Newberry house. “If you are ready, inspector, +I will go ahead with the test.”</p> + +<p>The psychologist threw open the door of the inner +room, showing the four Celestials in a stolid group, +and summoned first Wong Bo, who spoke English.</p> + +<p>Trant, pushing a chair to the table, ordered the +Oriental to sit down and place his hands upon the +plates at the table’s edge before him. The Chinaman +obeyed passively, as if expecting some sort of torture. +Immediately the light moved to the center of the +screen, where it had moved when Trant was touching +the plates, then kept on toward the next line beyond. +But as Wong Bo’s first suspicious excitement—which +the movement of the light betrayed—subsided as he +felt nothing, the light returned to the center of the +screen.</p> + +<p>“You know why you have been brought here, +Wong Bo?” Trant demanded of the Chinaman.</p> + +<p>“No,” the Chinaman answered shortly, the light +moving six inches as he did so.</p> + +<p>“You know no reason at all why you should be +brought here?”</p> + +<p>“No,” the Chinaman answered calmly again, while +the light moved about six inches. Trant waited till +it returned to its normal position in the center of +the screen.</p> + +<p>“Do you know an American named Paul Tobin, +Wong Bo?”</p> + +<p>“No,” the Chinaman answered. This time the +light remained stationary.</p> + +<p>“Nor one named Ralph Murray?”</p> + +<p>“No.” Still the light stayed stationary.</p> + +<p>“Hugh Larkin, Wong Bo?”</p> + +<p>“No.” Calmly again, and with the light quiet in +the center of the screen.</p> + +<p>“Walter Newberry?” the psychologist asked in +precisely the same tone as he had put the preceding +question.</p> + +<p>“No,” the Chinaman answered laconically again; +but before he answered and almost before the name +was off Trant’s lips, the light—which had stayed +almost still at the recital of the other names—jumped +quickly to one side across the screen, crossed the first +division line and moved on toward the second and +stayed there. It had moved over a foot! But the +face of the Oriental was as quiet, patient, and +impassive as before. The psychologist made no +comment; but waited for the light slowly to return to +its normal position. Then he took up his pile of +portrait photographs.</p> + +<p>“You say you do not know any of these men, +Wong Bo,” Trant said quietly, but with the effect of +sending the light swinging half the distance again, +“You may know them, but not by name, so I want +you to look at these pictures.” Trant showed him +the first. “Do you know that man, Wong Bo?”</p> + +<p>“No,” the Chinaman answered patiently. Trant +glanced quickly to see that the light stayed steady; +then showed him four more pictures of young men, +getting the same answer and precisely the same effect. +He showed the sixth picture—the photograph of +Walter Newberry.</p> + +<p>“You know him?” Trant asked precisely in the +same tone as the others.</p> + +<p>“No,” Wong Bo answered with precisely the same +patient impassiveness. Not a muscle of his face +changed nor an eyelash quivered; but as soon as Trant +had displayed this picture and the Chinaman’s eyes +fell upon it, the light on the screen again jumped a +space and settled near the second line to the left!</p> + +<p>Trant put aside the portraits and took up the +pictures of the houses. He waited again till the light +slowly resumed its central position on the screen.</p> + +<p>“You have never gone to this house, Wong Bo?” +he showed a large, stone mansion, not at all like the +Newberry’s.</p> + +<p>“No,” the Chinaman replied, impassive as ever. +The light remained steady.</p> + +<p>“Nor to this—or this—or this?” Trant showed +three more with the same result. “Nor this?” he +displayed now a rear view of the Newberry house.</p> + +<p>“No,” quietly again; but, as when Newberry’s +name was mentioned and his picture shown, the light +swung swiftly to one side and stood trembling, again +a foot and a half to the left of its normal position +when shown the other pictures!</p> + +<p>“That will do for the present,” Trant dismissed +Wong Bo. “Send him back to his cell, away from +the others,” he said to Walker, with flashing eyes. +“We will try the rest—in turn!”</p> + +<p>And rapidly, and with precisely the same questions +and test he examined Billy Lee and Sing Lo. Each +man made precisely the same denials and in the same +manner as Wong Bo, but to the increasing wonder +and surprise of Walker and the utter astonishment of +Siler, for each man the light stayed steady when they +were asked if they knew the other Americans named; +while for each the light swung suddenly wide and +trembling when Walter Newberry’s name was +mentioned and when his picture was shown. And for +Sing Lo also—precisely as for Wong Bo—the light +wavered suddenly and swung, quivering, a foot and a +half to the left when they were shown the Newberry +home.</p> + +<p>“Bring in Sin Chung Ming!” the psychologist +commanded with subdued fire shining in his eyes; but +he hid all signs of excitement himself, as the +government agent handed the last Oriental over to him. +Trant set the yellow hands over the plates and started +his questions in the same quiet tone as before. For +the first two questions the light moved three times, +as it had done with the others—and as even Ferris +and Siler now seemed to be expecting it to move—only +this time it seemed even to the police officers to +swing a little wider. And at Walter Newberry’s +name, for the first time in any of the tests, it crossed +the second dividing line at the first impulse; moved +toward the third and stayed there.</p> + +<p>Even Siler now waited with bated breath, as Trant +took up his pile of pictures; and, as he came to the +picture of the murdered man and the house where he +had lived, for the second and third time in that single +test the light—stationary when Sin Chung Ming +glanced at the other photographs—trembled across +the screen to the third dividing line. For the others +it had moved hardly eighteen inches, but when Sin +Chung Ming saw the pictured face of the murdered +man it had swung almost three feet.</p> + +<p>“Inspector Walker,” Trant drew the giant officer +aside, “this is the man, I think, for the final test. +You will carry it out as I arranged with you?”</p> + +<p>“Sin Chung Ming,” the psychologist turned back +to the Chinaman swiftly, as the inspector, without +comment, left the room, “you have been watching the +little light, have you not? You saw it move? It +moved when you lied, Sin Chung Ming! It will +always move when you lie. It moved when you said +you did not know Walter Newberry; it moved when +you saw his picture, and pretended not to know it; +it moved when you saw the picture of his house, which +you said you did not know! Look how it is moving +now, as you grow afraid that you have betrayed your +secret to us now, Sin Chung Ming—as you have and +will,” Trant pointed to the swinging light in triumph.</p> + +<p>A low knock sounded on the door; but Trant, +watching the light now slowly returning to its normal +place, waited an instant more. Then he himself +rapped gently on the table. The door to the next +room—directly opposite the Chinaman’s eyes—swung +slowly open; and through it they could see +the scene which Trant and the inspector had prepared. +In the middle of the floor knelt young Mrs. Newberry, +her back toward them, her hands pressed against her +face; and six feet beyond a man stood, facing her. +Ferris and Siler looked in astonishment at Trant, for +there was no meaning in this scene to them at first. +Then Siler remembered suddenly, and Ferris guessed, +that such must have been the scene in the billiard +room that night at the Newberry’s; thus it must have +been seen by the man who fired through the window +at young Newberry that night—and to him, but to +that man only—it would bring a shock of terror. +And appreciating this, they stared swiftly, first at the +Chinaman’s passionless and immobile face; then at +the light upon the screen and saw it leap across bar +after bar. And, as the Chinaman saw it, and knew +that it was betraying him, it leaped and leaped again; +swung wider and wider; until at last the impassiveness +of the Celestial’s attitude was for an instant broken, +and Sin Chung Ming snatched his hands from the +metal plates.</p> + +<figure id="illus9"> + <img src="images/illus9.jpg" alt="In a darkened room a man in + a silk Tang suit sits at a table. Wires lead from the fingers on + one hand to a small electrical machine. A table lamp is pointed + at the top of the machine where a mirror is mounted, reflecting + light onto a screen at the right. A young man stands by and + watches the seated man. Through an open doorway can be seen two + people: a woman, seated, holding her face in her hands, and a + man, standing, pointing a gun at the woman."> + <figcaption>The Chinaman saw it and knew that it was betraying him, + but it leaped and leaped again</figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>“I had guessed that anyway, Sin Chung Ming,” +Trant swiftly closed the door, as Walker returned to +the room, “for your feeling at sound of Walter +Newberry’s name and the sight of his picture was so much +deeper than any of the rest. So, it was you that fired +the shot, after watching the house with Sing Lo and +Wong Bo, as their fright when they saw the picture +of the house showed, while Billy Lee was not needed at +the house that night and has never seen it, though he +knew what was to be done. That is all I need of +you now, Sin Chung Ming; for I have learned what +I wanted to know.”</p> + +<p>As the fourth of the Chinamen was led away to +his cell, Trant turned back to Inspector Walker and +Siler.</p> + +<p>“I must acknowledge my debt to Mr. Ferris,” he +said with a glance toward the man of whom he spoke, +“for help in solving this case, without which I could +not have brought it to a conclusion without giving +much more time to the investigation. Mr. Ferris, as +you already know, Inspector Walker, as special agent +for the Government, has for years been engaged in +the enforcement of the Chinese exclusion laws. The +sentence repeated to us by Mrs. Newberry, in which +her husband, delirious with fright, seemed warning +some one that to acknowledge that his mother had +large feet would prevent him from ‘getting in,’ +seemed to me to establish a connection between young +Newberry’s terror and an evasion of the exclusion +laws. I went at once to Mr. Ferris to test this idea, +and he recognized its application at once.</p> + +<p>“As the exclusion laws against all but a very small +class of Chinese are being more strictly enforced than +ever before, there has been a large and increasing +traffic among the Chinese in bogus papers to procure +entry into this country of Chinese belonging to the +excluded classes. And in addition to being supplied +with forged official papers for entry, as Ferris can +tell you, the applicants of the classes excluded are +supplied with regular ‘coaching papers’ so that they +can correctly answer the questions asked them at San +Francisco or Seattle. The injunction to ‘say your +mother had small feet’ was recognized at once by +Ferris as one of the instructions of the ‘coaching +paper’ to get a laborer entered as a man of the +merchant class.</p> + +<p>“Mr. Ferris and I together investigated the career +of Walter Newberry after his return from China, +where he had spent nearly the whole of his life, and +we were able to establish, as we expected we might, +a connection between him and the Sing Lo Trading +Company—a Chinese company which Mr. Ferris had +long suspected of dealing in fraudulent admission +papers, though he had never been able to bring home +to them any proof. We found, also, that young +Newberry had spent and gambled away much more +money in the last few months than he had legitimately +received. And we were able to make certain that this +money had come to him through the Sing Lo Company, +though obviously not for such uses. As it is +not an uncommon thing for Chinese engaged in the +fraudulent bringing in of their countrymen to confide +part of the business to unprincipled Americans—especially +as all papers have to be viséd by American +consuls and disputes settled in American courts—we +became certain that young Newberry had been serving +the Sing Lo Company in this capacity. It was plain +that he had diverted a large amount of money from +the ends for which the members of the Sing Lo +Company had intended it to be used and his actions +as described by his wife, made it equally certain that +he had been sentenced by the members of the Company +to death, and given the Oriental alternative of +committing suicide before eleven o’clock on Sunday night, +or else the company would take the carrying out of the +sentence into their own hands. Now whether it will +be possible to convict all four of the Chinamen we had +here for complicity in his murder, or whether Sin +Chung Ming, who fired the shot will be the only one +tried, I do not know. But the others, in any case, +will be turned over to Mr. Ferris for prosecution for +their evasions of the exclusion laws.”</p> + +<p>“Exclusion laws!” exclaimed the giant inspector—“Mr. +Ferris can look after his exclusion laws if he +wants. What we want, Trant, is to convict these +men for the murder of Walter Newberry; and knowing +what we do now, we will get a confession out of +them some way!”</p> + +<p>“I doubt whether, under the circumstances, any +force could be brought to bear that would extort any +formal confession from these Chinamen,” the Government +agent shook his head. “They would lose their +‘face’ and with it all reputation among their +countrymen.”</p> + +<p>But at this instant the door of the room was +dashed open and the flushed face of the desk sergeant +appeared before them.</p> + +<p>“Inspector!” he cried sharply, “the chink’s dead! +The last one, Sin Chung Ming, choked himself as +soon as he was alone in his cell!”</p> + +<p>The inspector turned to Trant who looked to Ferris, +first, in his surprise.</p> + +<p>“What? Ah—I see!” the immigration officer +comprehended after an instant. “He considered +what we found from him here confession enough—especially +since he implicated the others with him—so +that his ‘face’ was lost. To him, it was unpardonable +weakness to let us find what we did. I think, +then, Mr. Trant,” he concluded quietly, “that you +can safely consider your case proved. His suicide +is the surest proof that this Chinaman considered that +he had confessed.”</p> + +<p class="finis">The End</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="section" id="transcriber"> + +<h2>Transcriber’s Note</h2> + +<p>This transcription is made from the edition published in 1910 by +Small, Maynard & Company. The following alterations have been made +to correct what are believed to be unambiguous errors in the text:</p> + +<ul> + <li>“42$=80” was changed to “43$=80”, as per the surrounding context + (Chapter IV).</li> + <li>“straighened” was changed to “straightened” (Chapter V).</li> + <li>“chachihuitl” was changed to “chalchihuitl” (Chapter VI).</li> + <li>“neice” was changed to “niece” (Chapter VII).</li> + <li>“touseled” was changed to “tousled” (Chapter VII).</li> + <li>“mysterous” was changed to “mysterious” (Chapter VIII).</li> + <li>Three occurrences of mismatched quotation marks have been repaired.</li> +</ul> + +</div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75523 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/75523-h/images/cover.jpg b/75523-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..64a42fa --- /dev/null +++ b/75523-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/75523-h/images/figure4-1.png b/75523-h/images/figure4-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..75f6c51 --- /dev/null +++ b/75523-h/images/figure4-1.png diff --git a/75523-h/images/figure4-2.png b/75523-h/images/figure4-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..737d10e --- /dev/null +++ b/75523-h/images/figure4-2.png diff --git a/75523-h/images/figure5-1.png b/75523-h/images/figure5-1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..369640d --- /dev/null +++ b/75523-h/images/figure5-1.png diff --git a/75523-h/images/figure5-2.png b/75523-h/images/figure5-2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..eec8644 --- /dev/null +++ b/75523-h/images/figure5-2.png diff --git a/75523-h/images/figure5-3.png b/75523-h/images/figure5-3.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8dfad76 --- /dev/null +++ b/75523-h/images/figure5-3.png diff --git a/75523-h/images/figure5-4.png b/75523-h/images/figure5-4.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2c81c6f --- /dev/null +++ b/75523-h/images/figure5-4.png diff --git a/75523-h/images/figure5-5.png b/75523-h/images/figure5-5.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3a17963 --- /dev/null +++ b/75523-h/images/figure5-5.png diff --git a/75523-h/images/illus1.jpg b/75523-h/images/illus1.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7a00870 --- /dev/null +++ b/75523-h/images/illus1.jpg diff --git a/75523-h/images/illus2.jpg b/75523-h/images/illus2.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b6c3590 --- /dev/null +++ b/75523-h/images/illus2.jpg diff --git a/75523-h/images/illus3.jpg b/75523-h/images/illus3.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..22e5f9c --- /dev/null +++ b/75523-h/images/illus3.jpg diff --git a/75523-h/images/illus4.jpg b/75523-h/images/illus4.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bab8a97 --- /dev/null +++ b/75523-h/images/illus4.jpg diff --git a/75523-h/images/illus5.jpg b/75523-h/images/illus5.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..76a1a55 --- /dev/null +++ b/75523-h/images/illus5.jpg diff --git a/75523-h/images/illus6.jpg b/75523-h/images/illus6.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..95c44da --- /dev/null +++ b/75523-h/images/illus6.jpg diff --git a/75523-h/images/illus7.jpg b/75523-h/images/illus7.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..864ccc4 --- /dev/null +++ b/75523-h/images/illus7.jpg diff --git a/75523-h/images/illus8.jpg b/75523-h/images/illus8.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8e78216 --- /dev/null +++ b/75523-h/images/illus8.jpg diff --git a/75523-h/images/illus9.jpg b/75523-h/images/illus9.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a5f7516 --- /dev/null +++ b/75523-h/images/illus9.jpg |
