Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume], December 29, 1906, Image 7

About Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916

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Hie Woman in Ithe Alcove
BY
ANNA CATHERINE GREEN
Copyright, 1906, The Bobbs Merill Company.
SYNOPSIS, Jg#"-
1.—"The plainest girl in
'.hat night" attracts the at
Anpon Durand, and he pro
iage at a dancing party at
vll home. Mrs. Fairbrother
1 in the "alcove" and h&r
is stolen. Chapter 2.
woman's gloves, and
#lled within- them, are
'iid bag carried by Miss
'Suspicion is fastened
om she had promised
Chapter 3.—Police
-view with Miss Van
Dtfrand ^before they
ave the Ramsdell
inder suspicion in
cence. Chapter 4.
pplanation of his
cove, Mrs. Fair
the1gloves, his re
a rear passage,
dead woman, his
.j ^ifash of blood on his
from above Mm. Chap
minatlon of diamond by
Jngllsfrman.—Says it Is ah
-Guests startled by a long,
shriek while Grey holds
seovery of note of warn
ven to Mrs.. Fairbrother before
Chapter 6.—Miss Van Ars-
.e looks for clue to murderer. Iil
est delayed awaiting Mr. Fair.broth
return. He is ill at his mining
rap, tl*e Placid®. Chapter 7.—He
rts of correspondent at the Placide.
urriey to mining camp. Effort to in
TYX&W Fairbrother. In conscious ino
jntB he asserts the diamond was
real one. Chapter 8.—Coroner't
Met does not accuse Durand,. but
arrested by the police. Chapter
-rMiss Van Arsdale has Intervlev
th :Inspector Dalzell and tells hiir
Mr. Grey'B .disinterested attitude
vairi.pleasures" of the evening be
the arrival of Mrs. Fairbrother
Of his. stady gaze at the diamond
«Mter. She calls attention to the
dlTed mystery of the two broken
'Se cups and says she saw Mr
lift two cups from a tray aivl
t.toward the. alcove. Chapter 10.
'tee Van Arsdale continues lnter
,|j with the inspector, astonishing
i| vlth her knowledge concerning
rey. She gives him ithe Informa
hat Mr. Grey is a collector of
thatf being the lirst aim of hih
file tells him that the nurse at
upon Mr. Grey's daughter is
end and from her she learned
le sick girl 'wrote a note that
»ui" was too weak to make a
.e sentence. Chapter 11.—-Mlas
•Sdale completes arrangements
her friend as nurse to Miss
%re she -is to find out more
the case. Chapter 12.—
nurse takes up her duties
I rned. by Mr. Grey not to let
see any or the papers, his
4
'being that he was present
Jiouse where the crime was
*d. Miss Van Arsdale has in
jssion the stilletto which she
.ave where. Mr. Grey's eyes will
J.pon it. Before she has reached
J)olnt she receives word from the
actor that lit is not necessary.—
vpfter 13.—On the following d'ay
-s Van Arsdlale receives a message
a her uncle "that he wfen'bs to see
He'-takes her Into a carriage and
go to the.office, of the inspector,
?re ghe hears of a new cletw. A
ler -who -was' employed' hy the
irer at the "HamBdell home the
it of' the-jyarty disappears. Upqri
dog' up his reference i't is found
reco mm en dati on ciame from Sears,
i, was, employed .'in the 'Fairbrother
\e.. Search reveals that Sears de
ed With Mr. F&irbrcither. Investi
n.&how^S-'tih'at.lie left Mr. Fair
elv at El Moro, having time 'to
'jieiw York by the date of tji'
*5 Chapter 14.—'While Miss
•Male 1s In conference with the
a defective arrives. She re
adjoining room and the
ajar. Detective tells of
i.rother house at mid'
phbtograph of the sus-
Imen. of his handwriit
jjouse Is supposed to
pe one enters who
jivinced' is Sears,
fceeds in trapping
alting his escape
\h. After several
I.
4? detective gets
is story. Chap-
vrsdale ,comes
ma concludes
inspector, ex
^ere was an
when Mr.
into his
5j) in Miss
Chapter
a duties
\eived
A
%d
\A
£fc
&V*i
assured, him that he not only had no
Wan-ant, for this, but that he would
better serve the ends of justice by fol
lowing out his present task of bring
ing this man and the Englishman to
gether and watching the result. But
how, with the conditions laid on him
by Mr. Grey, was this to be done? He
knew nothing of the man's circum
stances or of his position in the town.
How, then, go to work to secure his
co-operation in a scheme possibly as
mysterious to him as it was to him
self? He could stop this stranger in
mid-street, with some plausible ex
cuse, but it did not follow that he
would succeed In luring him to the
•hotel where Mr. Grey could see him.
Wellgood, or, as he believed, Sears,
knew too' much of life to be beguiled
by any open clap-trap, and Sweet
water was obliged to see him drive
off without having made the least ad
vance in the purpose engrossing him.
But that was nothing. He had all
the evening--before him, and reenter
ing the store, he took up his stand
near the sugar barrel. He had per
ceived that in the pauses of weighing
and talking, Dick talked if he were
guided with suitable discretion, why
should lie not talk of Wellgood?
He was guided, and he did talk and
to some effect. That Is, he gave infor
mation of the man which surprised
Sweetwater. If in the past and in
New York he had been known as a
waiter, or should I say steward, he was
known here as a manufacturer of pat
ent medicine designed to rejuvenate
the human race. He had not been
long in town and was somewhat of a
stronger yet,' but he wouldn't be so
long. -He was going to make things
hum.,lie was. Money for this, money
for that, a horse where another man
would walk, and mail—well, that alohe
would make this postofflce worth while.
Then the drugs—ordered by wholesale.
Those boxes over there were his,
ready to be carted out to his manu
factory. Connt them, some one, and
thipk of the bottles and bottles of stuff
they stand for. If it sells as he says
it will—then he will soon be rich:
and so On, till Sweetwater brought
the garrulous Dick to a standstill by
asking whether Wellgood had been
away for any purpose since he firgt
came to town. -He received the reply
that he had just come hohie from New
York, where he had been for some ar
ticles needed in his manufactory.
Sweetwater felt all Ills' convictions
confirmed, and ended the colloquy
with the final question:
"And where is his manufactory?
Might be worth visiting, perhaps."
The other made a gesture, said
something about northwest and rushed
to help a customer. Sweetwater took
the opportunity to slide away. More
explicit directions could easily be got
elsewhere, and he felt anxious to re
turn to Mr. Grey and discover, if pos
sible, whether ft would prove as much
a matter of surprise to him as to
Sweetwater himself that the man who
answered to the name of Wellgood was
the owner of a manufactory and a bar
rel or two of drugs, out of which he
proposed to make a compound that
would rob the doctors of their busi
ness and make himself and this little
village rich.
Sweetwater made on^y one stop on
'his way to Mr. Grey's hotel rooms,
and that was at the stables. Here he
learned whatever else there was to
know, and, armed with definite infor
mation, toe appeared before Mr. Grey,
who, to his astonishment, was dining
in his own room.
He had dismissed the waiter and
was rather brooding than eating. He
looked Up eagerly, however, when
Sweetwater entered, and asked what
news.
The detective, with some semblance
qf respect, answered that he had seen
Wellgood, but that he had been unable
to: detain him or bring him witMn-his
employer's observation.
"He Is a patent-medicine man," he
then explained, "and manufactures
his-own concoctions in a house he has
rented here on a lonely road some
Half-mile out of town."
"Wellgood does? tlhe man named
Wellgood?" Mr.rGrey exclaim'ed with
all the astonishment the other secret
ly expected. fr:
"Yes Wellgood,—James Wellgood.
There is no other in town."
."How long has this man been
here?" tlhe statesman inquired,, after
a" moment of apparently great discom
fiture.'
"Just twenty-four hours, this time.
He was here once before, when he
rented the house and made ail his
plans."
"AJh!"
Mr. Grey rose precipitately. His
manner (had changed.
"I must see him. What you tell me
makes it all the more necessary for
me to see him. How can you bring it
about?"
"Without his seeing you?" Sweet
'ater asked.
i'Yes yes certainly without his see
me Couldn't you rap him up at
own door, and lipid him" in talk a
e, while I looked on from the
\\e or whatever vehicle we can
VParry us there? The least
it his face would satisfy me.
"might."
said Sweetwater, not very
to the probable resuOt of
the stables, he ordered
the last ray of the
the reins in Sweet-
the coast-road. ,,
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Closed Door.
The road was once the highway, but
the tide having played so many tricks
with its numberless bridges a new one
had been built farther up the cliff,
carrying with it the life and business
of the small town. Many old land
marks still remained—shops, ware
houses and even a few scattered dwell
ings. But most of these were desert
ed, and those that were still in use
showed such neglect that it was very
evident the whole region would soon
be givqn up to the encroaching sea
and such Interests as are Inseparable
from it.
The hour was that mysterious one
of late twilight, When outlines lose
their distinctness and sea and shore
melt Into one mass of uniform gray.
There was no wind and the waves
came in with a soft plash,'but so near
to the level of the road that it was
evident, even to these strangers, that
the tide was at Its height and would
presently begin to ebb.
Soon theyshad passed the last for
saken dwelling, and the town proper
lay behind' them. Sand and a few
rocks were all that lay between them
now and the open stretch of the ocean,
which, at this point, approached the
land, in a small bay, well-guarded on
either side by eihhracing rocky heads.
This was what made the harbor at
It was very still. They passed one
team and only one. Sweetwater looked
very sharply at .this team and at Its
driver, but saw nothing to arouse sus
picion. They w^je now a half-mile
from and, seemingly, in a per
fectly desolate region.
"A manufactory here!" exclaimed
Mr. Grey. It was the first word he
had uttered since starting.
"Not far from here," was Sweet
water's equally laconic reply and, the
road taking a turn almost at the mo
ment of his speaking, he leaned for
ward and pointed out a building stand
ing on th§ right-hand side of the road,
with its feet in the water. "That's
it," said he. '"They described it well
enough for me to know it when I see
it. Looks like a robber's hole at this
time of night," he laughed "but what
can you expect from a manufactory of
patent medicine
Mr. Grey was silent. He was look
ing very earnestly at the building.
"It is larger than I expected," he re
marked at last.
Sweetwater himself was surprised,
but as they advanced and their point
of view changed they found It to be
really an uiaignificant structure, and
Mr. Wellgood's portion of it more in
significant still.
In reality if was a collection of
three stores under, on'e roof: two of
them- were shut up and' evidently un
occupied, the third, showed a lighted
window. This was the manufactory.
It occupied the mid,dle place and pre
sented a tolerably decent appearance.
It' showed, besides the lighted lamp I
have mentioned such signs of life as
a-few packlngJboxes tumbled out on
the small, .platform in front, and a
whinnying horse attached to an empty
buggy, tied to a post on the opposite
side of the road.
''I'm glad to see the lamp," mut
tered Sweetwater. "Now, what shall
we do? Is it light enough for you to
see his face, if I can manage to bring
him to the door?"
Mr. Grey seemed startled.
"It's darker than I thought," said
he. "But call the ltoan and If I can
not see him plainly, I'll shout to the
horse to stand, which you will take as
a signal to «bring this Wellgood near
er. But do not be surprsled if I ride
off before he reaches the buggy. I'll
come back again and take you up far
ther down the road."
"All riliht, sir," answered Sweet
water, with a side glance at the speak
er's inscrutable features. "It's a go!"
And leaping to the ground he ad
vanced to the manufactory door and
knocked loudly.
No one appeared.
He tried the latch It lifted, but the
door did not open: it was. fastened
from within.
"Strange!" he muttered, casting a
glance at the waiting horse and buggy,
then at the lighted window, which was
on the second floor directly over his
head. "Guess I'll, sing out."
Here he shouted the man's name.
"Wellgood! I say, Wellgood!"
No response to this either.
"Looks bad!" he acknowledged to
himself and, taking a step back, he
looked up at the window.
It was closed, but there was neither
shade nor curtain to obstruct the'view.
"Do you see anything?" he inquired
of Mr. Grey, who sat with his eye at
the small window in the buggy top.
"Nothing."
"No movement in the room above?
No shadow at Ue window?"
"Nothing."
"Well, it's confounded strange!"
And he went back, still calling -Well
good.
The tied-up horse whinnied, and the
waves gave soft splash and that was
all,—if I except Sweetwater's muttered
oath.
Coming back, he'looked again at the
window, then, with a gesture toward
Mr. Grey, turned the corner of the
building and began to edge himself
along its side In an endeavor to reach
the rear and p'ee what it offered. But
he came to .a sudden standstill. He
found himself on the edge of the bank
before he had taken twenty steps.
Yet the building projected on, and he
saw why It had looked so large from a
certain point of the approach. Its rear
was bu.1t out on piles, making, its
depth -r'ven greater than the united
width .if the three stores. At low tide
this ,might be accessible from below,
but Just now the water was almost on
a tys'vel with the top if the piles, mak
ing all approach impossible save by
l}6at.
Disgusted with his failure, Sweet
water returned to the front, and, find
ing the situation unchanged, took a
new resolve. After measuring with
his eye the height of the first story,
he coolly walked over to the strange
"torse, and, slipping his bridle, brought
J)ack and cast it over a projection of
-t by its aid he succeeded in
I up to the window, which was
eye to the interior.
-rev sat far back in kis buggy,
.^oxement.
THE OTTPMvvA twSEK
There Were no shades at the win
dow, as I have before said, and, once
Sweetwater's eye had reached the
level of the sill, he could see the in
terior without the least difficulty.
There was nobody there. The lamp
burned on a great table littered with
papers^ but the rude cane-chair before
it was empty, and so was the room.
He could see into every corner of ij
and there was not even a hiding-place
where anybody could remain con
cealed. Sweetwater was still looking,
when the-lamp, which had been burn
ing with'conslderable smoke, /iared up
and went out. Sweetwater uttered an
ejaculation, and, finding himself face
to face with utter darkness, slid from
his petfeh -to the ground.
Approaching Mr. Grey for the sec
ond time, he said:
"I can not understand It. The fel
low Is either lying low, or he's gone
out, leaving his lamp to go out, too.
But whose is the horse—just excuse
me while I tie him up again. It looks
like the one he was driving today. It
is the one.: Well, he won't lbave him
here all night. Shall we lie low and
wait for him to come and unhitch this
animal? Or do you prefer to return
to the hotel?"
Mr. Grey was sldw In answering.
Finally he said:
"The man may suspect our inten
tion. You can never tell anything
about such fejlows as he. He may
have caught some unexpected glimpse
of me or siinply heard that I was in
town. It he's the man I think him, he
has reasons for avoiding me which I
cdn very well understand. Let us go
back,—not' to the hotel, I must see this
adventure through tonight,—but far
enough for him to think we have given
up all idea of routing him out tonight.
Perhaps that is all he Is waiting for.
You can steal back—"
"Excuse me," said Sweetwater, "but
I know a better dodge than that. We'll
circumvent him. We passed a boat
house on our way down here. I'll just
drive you up, procure a boat, aiyj bring
you back here by water. I don't be
lieve that he will expect that, afod if
he Is in the house we shall see him or
his light."
"Meanwhile he can escape by the
road."
"Escape? Do you think he is plan
ning to escape?"
The detective spoke with becoi
surprise and Mr. Grey answered
out apparent suspicion.
"It is possible it he suspects
presence In the neighborhood."
"Do you want to atop him?"
"I want to see him."
"Oh, I remember Well, sir, wiTwlll
drive on.—that is, after a momqpt."
"What are you going to do?"
"(Dh, nothing. You said yojj wani
to see. the man before he escaped,"!
"Yes, but—"
"And that he might escape by the*
road.''
"Yes—
"Well,! was just making that a lit
tle bit impracticable. small pebble
In the kfeyhole and—why, see now, his
htti-se is walking off! Gee!1 I must
have fastened him badly. I shouldn't
wonder if he trotted all the way to
iowji.-.^jit it can't be helped. I can
not be supposed to race after him.
Ate you ready now, sir? I'll give an
other shout, then I'll get fn." And
once more the lonely region about
echoed with the cry: "Wellgood!
sa£, Wellgodd!"
There was no answer, and the young
detective, masking for the nonce as
Mr. Grey's confidential servant,
jumped into the buggy, and turned ths
"torse's head toward
CHAPTER tlX.
The moon was well up when the
small Doat in which our young detec
tive was seated with Mr. Grey ap
pearid in the bay approaching the so
called manufactory of Wellgood. The
looked-for light on the waterside was
not there. All was dark except where
the windows reflected the light of the
moon.
This was a decided disappointment
to SWeetwatpr. if not to Mr. Grey. He
had ex-peclef co detect signs of life In
this quarter, ana this additional proof
of Wellgood's absence from home
made it look as If they had come out
•:n a fool's errand and might much bet
ter have stuck to the road.
"No promise there," came in a mut
cer from his lips. "Shall I row In, and
try to make a landing?"
"You may row nearer. I should like
a closer view. I don't think we shall
attract any attention. There are mare
boats than ours on the water."
Sweetwater was startled. Looking
round, he saw a launch, or some such
small steamer-,..riding at anchor not far
from the mouth of the bay. But that
was not all. Between it and them was
a xow-boat like their own, resting
quietly In the wake
o'i
the moon.
"J don't like' so much company/' he
muttered. "Something's brewihg
something lh which we may not want
£o take a part.''
W" "Very.,likely," answered Mr. Grey
grimly^ '.But we must not be deterred
r—not till I have seen—" the rest
Sweetwater did not hear. Mr. Grey
seemed to remember himself., "Row
nearer," lie now bade. "Get under the
shadow of .the rocks If you can. If the
boat is for him, he will show himself,
Yet I hardly see how he can board
from that bank."
It did. hot look feasible. Neverthe
less, they halted and watched with
much patience for several long min
utes. The boat behind them did not
advance, nor Was any movement dis
cernible in the direction of the manu
factory. Another short period, then
suddenly a light flashed from a win
dow high up-In the central gable,
sparkled for an instant and was gone.
Sweetwater took it for a signal and,
with a slight motion of the wrist, be
gan to work his way in toward shore
till they lay almost at the edge of the
piles.
"Hark!"
It was Sweetwater who Spoke.
Both listened, Mr. Grey with his
head turned toward t^e launch and
Sweetwater with his eye on the cav
ernous space, sharply outlined by the
plies, which the fallipg tide now dis
closed under each contiguous build
ing. C''»ods had been directly shipped
rrom hese stores in the old days. I
This hf -'had .learned in the village.!
How shir/ed he had not been able to"
understs i/d from his previous survey!
of tHJuiUdJzK* But hA fhrmcht h-
could sfcfj now. At low tide, or better,
at half-tide, access could be got to the
door of the extension and., if this floor
hold a trap, the mystery would be ex
plainable. So would be the hovering
boat—the signal-light and—yes! thig
sound overheard of steps on a rattling
planking.
"I hear nothing," whispered Mr.
Grey from the other end. '"The boat
Is still there, but not a man has dip
ped an oar."
"They will soon," returned Sweet
water as a smothered sound of clank
ing iron reach his ears from the hol
low spaces before him. "Duck your
head, sir I'm going to row In under
this portion of the house
Mr. Grey would have protested and
with very good reason. There was
scarcely a space of three feet between
them and the boards overhead. But
Sweetwater had so immediately suited
action to word that he hadi no choice.
They were now in utter darkness,
and Mr. Grey's thoughts must hfive
been peculiar as he crouched over the
stern, hardly knowim? what to expect
or whether this sudden launch Into
darkness was for the purpose of flight
or pursuit. But enlightenment came
soon. The sound of a man's tread in
the building above was every moment
becoming more perceptible, and while
wondering, possibly, at his position,
Mr. Grey naturally turned his head as
nearly as he could in the direction of
those sound, and was staring with
blknk eyes Into the darkness, when
Sweetwater, leaning toward him,
whispered:
"Look, up! There's a trap. In a min
ute he'll open it. Mark him, but don't
breathe a word, and I'll get you out
of this all right.".
Mr. Grey attempted some answer,
but it was lost in the prolonged creak
of slowly-moving hinges somewhere
over their heads. Spaces, whigh had
looked dark, suddenly looked darker
hearing was satisfied, hut. not the eye.
A man's breath panting with exertion
testified to a near-by presence but
that man was working without a light
in a room with ahuttered windows, and
Mr. Grey probably felt that he knew
very little more than before, when sud
..dealy, most unexpectedly, to him at
least-a face started out of that over
head darkness a face so white, with
£ry feature made so startlingly dia
by the strong light Sweetwater
iyn upon it, that it seemed the
[y In the world to the two mtin
eafli.'.Mp another moment It had
'shed, or rather the light which
revealed It.
at'e that? Are you there?"
•ddwn ffom above in hoarse and
to*) encouraging tones.
lere. was .none to answer Sweet
.ter, with a quick pull on the oars
,d, already shot the boat out of its
had-already shot
dangerous harbbr
4
v-
.CHAPTER XX.
-f*'
Moonlight—And a Clue.
"Are you satisfied? Htive you got
what -you wanted asked Sweetwater,
when they were well away from the
shore arid the voice they had heard
calling at intervals "from the chasm
they had left'
"Yes. You're a good fellow. It
could not have been better managed."
Then, after a pause too prolonged and
thoughtful to please Sweetwater, who
was burning with curiosity if not with
some deeper feeling: "What was that
light you burned? A match?"
Sweetwater did not answer. He
dared not. How speak of the electric
torch he as a detective carried in his
pocket? That would be to give him
self away. He therefore let thisi ques
tion slip by and put in one of his own.
"Are you ready to go back now, sir?
Are we all done here?" This with his
ear turned and his eye bent foryard
for the adventure they had interrupted
was not at an end, whether their part
in it was or not.
Mr. Grey hesitated, his glances fol
lowing those of Sweetwater.
"Let us wait," said he, in a tone
which surprised Sweetwater. "If he is
meditating an escape, I must speak to
him before he reaches the launch. At
all hazards," he added* after another
moment's thought.
"All right, sir. How do you pro
pose—"
His words were interrupted by a
shrill whistle from the direction of the
bank. Promptly, and as if awaiting
this signal, the two men In the row
boat before them dipped their oars
and .pulled for the shore, taking the
direction of the manufactory.
Sweetwater said nothing, but held
himself in readiness.
Mr. Grey was equally silent, but the
lines of his face seemed to deepen in
the moonlight as the boat, gliding
rapidly through the water, passed
them within a dozen boat-lengths and
slipped into the opening under the
manufactory building.
"Now row!" he cried. "Make for
the launch. We'll intercept them on
their return."
Sweetwater, glowing with anticipa
tion, bent to his work. The boat be
neath them gave a bound and in a few
minutes they were far out on the wat
ers of the bay.
'"They're coming!" he whispered
eagerly, as he saw Mr. Grey looking
anxiously back. "How much farther
shall I go?"
"Just within hailing distance of tke
launch,'' was Mr. Grey's reply.
Sweetwater, gaging the distance
with a glance, stopped at the proper
point and rested on his oars. But his
thoughts did not rest. He realized
that he was a/bout to witness an Inter
view whose Importance he easily
recognised. How much of it would he
hear? What would be the upshot and
what was his full duty in the case?
He knew that this man Wellgood was
wanted by the New York police, but
he was possessed with no authority to
arrest him, even If he had the power.
'"Something more than I bargained
for," he inwardly commented. "But I
wanted excitement, and now I have
got it. If only I can keep my head
level, I may get something out of this,
if not all I could wish."
Meantime the/second boat was very
nearly on thenif He could mark the
tbrn-j
0))f
Welltno-Va
resolute air the face on which, to his
evident discomfiture, the moon shone,
wore a look which convinced, the de
tectlxe that this wag no patent-medi
cine manufacturer, nor even a cater
er's assistant, but a man of nerve and
resources, the same, indeed, whofe he
had encountered in Mr. Falrbrotlier's
house, with such disastrous, almost
fatal, results to himself.
The discovery, though an unexpect
ed one, did not lessen Ills sense of the
extreme helplessness of his own posi
tion. He could witness, but he could
not act follow Mr. Grey's orders, but
indulge in none of his own. The de
tective must continue to be lost in the
valet, though it came hard and woke
a sense of shame in his ambitious
breast.
Meanwhile Wellgood had seen them
and ordered his men to cease rowing.
"Give way, there," he shouted.
"We're for the launch and in a hurry."
"There's some one here who wants
to speak to you, Mr. Wellgood," Sweet
water called out, as respectfully as he
could. "Shall I mention your name?"
he asked of Mf. Grey.
"No, I will do that myself." And
raising his voice, he accosted the
other with these words: "I am the
man, Percival GrfBt. Darlington
Manor, England. I should like to say
a word to you before you embark."
A change, quick as lightning and al
most as dangerous, passed over the
face Sweetwater was watching with
such painful anxiety, but aB the other
added nothing to his words and
seemed to be merely waiting, he
shrugged his shoulders and Aiuttered
an order to his rowers to proceed.
In another moment the Bterns of the
two small craft swung together, hut in
such a way that, by dint of a little
skilful manipulation on the part of
Wellgood's men, the latter's back was
toward the moon.
Mr. Grey leaned toward Wellgood,
arid his face fell Into shadow also.
"Bah!" thought the detective, "I
should have managed that myself., But
If I can not see' I shall at least hear."
But he dqgeived himself In this. The
two men spoke In such low whispers
that only their intensity was manifest.
Not a word came to Sweetlater's ears.
"Bah!'!' he thought again, "this is
bad."
But he had to swallow his disap
pointment, and more. For presently
the two men so different in culture,
'Station and appearance, came, as it
peemed, to an understanding, and
Wellgood, talcing his hand from his
breast, fumbled in one of his pockets
and drew out something which he
handed to 'M^. Grey.
This made- Sweetwater Btart and
peerwltlrsjin greater anxiety at every
mpvement, when to his surprise both
bent forward, each over his own knee,
doing something so mysterious he
could get no clue to Its nature till they
again stretched forth their hands to
each other and he caught the gleam of
paper and realized that they were ex
changing memoranda or notes.
IJie'se must have been important,
for each made an immediate endeavor
to read, his slip by turning it toward
the, mooij's: rays. That both were sat
isfied was shown by their after, move
ments. Wellgood put his slip into his
pocket, and without further word to
Mr. Grey motioned his men to row
away. They did so with a will, leav
ing a line of silver in their wake. Mr.
Grey, on the contrary, gave no orders.
He still held his slip and seemed to be
dreaming. But his eye waa on the
shore, and he did not even turn when
sounds from the launch denoted that
she was under way.
Sweetwater, looking at this morsel
of paper with greedy eyes, dipped his
oars and began pulling softly toward
that portion of the beach where a
small and twinkling light defined the
bboat-house. He hoped Mr. Grey
would speak, hoped that in some way,
by some means, he might obtain a
clue to his patron's thoughts. But the
English gentleman sat like an image
and did not move till a slight but sud
den breeze, blowing in-shore, seized
the paper in his hand and carried it
away, past Sweetwater, who vainly
sought to catch it as it went fluttering
by, into the water ahead, where it
shone for a moment, then softly dlsap.
eared,
Sweetwater uttered a cry, so d!d
Mr. Grey.
"Is it any thin gr you wanted?" called
out the former, leaning over the bow
fot
the boat and making a dive at the
paper with his oar.
"Yes but if it's gone, it's gone,"
returned the other with some feeling.
"Careless of me, very careless,—but I
was thinking ofr—" ..
He stopped, he was greatly agitated,
but he. did not encourage Sweetwater
in any -further attempts to recover the
lost memorandum Indeed, such an
effort would have been fruitless the
paper was gone, and there was noth
ing left fpr- them but' to continue
their way, As'they, did so' it would
have been hard to-t4li in which breast
chagrin mounted higher. Sweetwater
had lost a clue ,in a thousand, and Mr.
Grey—well, ho :ne knew what he had
lost. He said nothing and plainly
showed by his changed manner that
he was in haste to_land. now and be
done with this doubtful, adventure.
When they reaohed the boat-house
Mr. Grey left Sweetwater to pay for
the boat and started at once for the
hotel.
The- man in charge had the bow of
the boat in hand,, preparatory to pull
ing it up on the boards. As Sweet
water turned toward him he caught
sight of the side of the boat, shining
•brightly in the moonlight. He gave a
start and, with a muttered ejaculation,
darted forward and picked off a small'
piece of paper from the dripping keel.
It separated in his hand and a part of
it escaped him, but the rest he man
aged to keep by secreting it in his
palm, where it still clung, wet r.nd-pos
sibly illegible, when he came upon Mr.
Grey again in the hotel office.
"Here's your pay," said that gentle
man, giving him a bill. "I am very
glad I met you. You have served me
remarkably well."
There was an anxiety in his face
and a hurry in his movements which
struck Sweetwater.
"Do«»s th'.p mean that ,-you are
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 22ND.
"That you have no further call for my'
services?"
"Quite so," said the gentleman*
"I'm going to take the train tonight.
I find that I still have time."
Sweetwater began to look alive.
Uttering hasty thanks, he rushefl
away to his own room and, turning on
the gas, peeled off the morsel of pa
per which hid begun to dry on his
hand. If it should prove to be the
blank end! If the written part were
the one which had floated off! Such
disappointments had fallen to his lot!
He was not unused to them.
But he was destined to better luck
this time. The written end had in
deed disappeared, but there was one
word left, which he had no Booner
read than he gave a low cry and pre*
pared to- leave for New York on the
same train as Mr. Grey.
The word was—diamond.
Grlzell Grizell
I Indulged in some very serious,
thoughts after Mr. Gcey's departure.
A fact was borne in upon me to which,
I had hitherto closed my prejudiced
eyes, but which I could no longer ig
nore, whatever confusion It brought
or however it coused me to change my
mind on a subject which had formed!
one of the strongest bases to the ar
gument by which I had sought to save
Mr. Durand. Miss Grey cherished no
such distrust of her father as I, jn my
Ignorance of their relations, had lm
puted to her in the early hours of my1
ministrations. This you have already!'
seen in my account of their parting.
Whatever his dread, fear or remorse,
there was no evidence that she felt to.
ward him anything but love and con
fidence: but love and confidence from
her to him were in dlreot contradic
tion to the doubts I had believed her
to have expressed in the half-written
note handed to Mr. Fairbrother in tho
alcove. Had I been wrong, then, in
attributing this scrawl to her? It be
gan* to look so. Though forbidden to
allow her to speak on the one tabooed)
subject, I had wit enough to know that
nothing would keep her from it, if the!
fate of Mrs. Falrbtother occupied any
real place in her thoughts.
Yet when the opportunity was given |,
me one morning of settling this fact
beyond all doubt, I own that my main j'
feeling was one of dread. I feared to
see this article In my creed destroyed,
lest I should lose confidence in the
whole. Yet conscience bade me face
the matter boldly, for had' I not boast
ed' to myself that my one desire waa
the truth?
I hllude to the disposition which
Miss Gre* showed on the morning of,
the third day to do a little surrcpti-.
tious, writing. You remember that a1
specimen of her handwriting had' been
asked for by the inspector, and once
had been earnestly desired by myself,
Now I seemed likely to have It, if I
did not open my eyes too widelv to
the- meaning- of "he* seemingly chance
requests. A little pencil dangled at
the end of my watch-chain. Would I
let her see it, let her hold It in her
hand for a minute? it was so like one
she used, to have. Of course I took it
off, of course I let her retain
&
I#
1
t-i,
'VC' CHAPTER XXI,
1
it
a little
while Iri her hand. But the penqjl
was not enough. A few minutes later
she asked for a bo#ok to look at—I
sometimes let her look at pictures.
But the book bothered her—she would
look at it later would I give her some
thing to mark the place—that postal
over there. I gave her the postal.
She put it In the book and I, who un
derstood. her thoroughly, wondered
what excuse she would, now find for
sending me into the other room. She
found one very soon, and with a heav
ily-beating heart I left her with that
pencil and postal. A soft laugh from
her lips drew me back. She was hold
ing up the postal.
"See! I have written a line to him!
Oh, you good, good nurse, to let me!
You needn't look so alarmed. It hasn't
hurt me one hit."
I knew that it had not know that
such an exertion was likely to be more
beneficial than-, hurtful to her, or I
should have found some excuse for de.
terring her, I endeavored to make my
face more natural. As she seemed to
want me to take the postal in my hand
I drew near and took.H.
"The address looks "very tinln'/Mliii
laughed. '"I think you wllESralve to
put it In an envoiepe."
I lodked at it,—I could not help it,—
her eye was on me ,and I'could not
even prepare my miijrj forthp shock
of seeing it like,or totally unlike the
writing
Qf
the warning. It wisl^tally
unlike so distinctly uniike that-it was
no longer possible to attribute those
lines to her which,/according.to Mr.
Durand's story, had caused Mrs. Fair
brother to take off her diamond.
"Why, why," she cried-. "You ao
tually Jook jale. Are you afraid the
doctor will scold ui* It hasn't hurt
me nearly so much as lying here and
knowing what he would give for one
word from me."
"You are right, and I, am' foolish," I
answered with all the spirit left in
me. "I should be.glad—I ara glad that
you have written these words. I will
copy the address on an envelope and
send it out in the first mall."
"Thank you," she murmured, giving
me back my pencil with a sly smile.
Now I can sl,eep, I must have roses
Jn my,Cheeks when papa conieBhome."
(To Be Continued.) &.?
Fair Proposition.
IK*"'
"Don't you throw off anything be
cause of the big holes in these dough
nuts?" asked the new wife of the
baker.
"I'll tell you," he replied, scratching
his chin. "Eat the doughnuts, and
we'll make a liberal allowance when
yon return the holes." «jW
A Sleep Inducer.
Hicks—Did you hear tbout Macklln?
They called the Rev. I Dulley to bin
bedside last evening. !71cks~Do you
mean to say be is in a dying condl- S?
tlon? HickfV-Ob, lilvw pn
V,