The Mysteries of Detective Ashton-Kirk (Complete Series). John T. McIntyre

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      CHAPTER XV

       MISS VALE DEPARTS SUDDENLY

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      For a moment there was a silence between the two men; then Ashton-Kirk said, dryly:

      "Miss Vale has, apparently, not been altogether frank with us in this matter."

      "You think then—"began Pendleton in a voice of terror. But Ashton-Kirk stopped him.

      "I think many things,"said he. "But they are neither here nor there. Facts are what count. Put the circumstances together for yourself and see where they lead you. Miss Vale has been from the first mixed up more or less in this crime. She explained. As far as I knew the explanation was made in good faith. Now we find her here in this lonely place, quietly engaged with a man whom I have convinced myself is one of Hume's murderers."

      There was another pause; this time it was Pendleton who broke the silence.

      "As you say,"spoke he, in a strange, throaty sort of tone, "she has not been quite frank. Take all the circumstances together and they seem to point—"

      He paused as though quite unable to finish. Ashton-Kirk laid a hand upon his shoulder.

      "Imagination is a thing that is vitally necessary in this sort of work,"said he. "But it must be held in check by reason. The great trouble with an amateur is that he reasons up to a certain point; then he allows his imagination to take a long leap toward a result. The upshot is that his results have seldom anything to support them. The correct method, I think, is to allow the imagination to scurry ahead in the way that is natural to it; but reason must follow close behind, proving each step of the way. To be sure, you may have theories, hypotheses, ideas without end, but you must never take them for granted. Select each in its turn, place it in a tube as the chemist does, add a few drops of reason, and you may produce a fact. It is the only way to go about it. Once a man becomes fixed in a belief, be there ever so little foundation for it, his mind stops revolving the subject; further procedure is hopeless."

      "I understand all that well enough,"said Pendleton. "But,"and he waved his hand toward the house, "what does this mean?"

      "I don't know,"said Ashton-Kirk. "And neither do you. So—that being the case—there is but one thing to do—find out."

      They gazed toward the window once more, Miss Vale had apparently mastered the contents of the paper, and was now engaged in writing rapidly. As the young men watched, she stopped, read carefully what she had written, and then handed it to Locke. The mute carried the paper to the light, and holding it very near to his eyes read it with much attention; then he tore it into strips, placed it upon the red coals of a stove which stood near him and watched it burn. Facing Miss Vale, his fingers began to fly rapidly in intricate signs. This only lasted a moment, however; for he stopped, gestured passionately, seized a pad of paper and began to write.

      While he was thus engaged, Ashton-Kirk said to Pendleton in a low tone:

      "Remain here for a moment."

      Then slowly, carefully, the investigator made his way toward the window through which Miss Vale and Locke were to be seen.

      Heavy beams of light shot across the ground from the windows; but here and there were trails of shadow. He clung to these until he had reached the shelter of the walls; then to Pendleton's amazement he stepped directly in front of the window through which the two were to be seen, rapped smartly upon the glass, and remained standing in full view, of the two in the room.

      Pendleton saw the pad drop from Locke's hands; he saw the mute wheel as he felt the vibrations and stare at the window, his eyes puckered and straining. He also saw Miss Vale rise, saw her hands thrown out in a gesture much like despair; and also he heard the cry that she uttered, muffled by the confines of the room, but full of fear. Then the room was plunged into darkness; an instant later a door was heard to open; the sound of quick-moving feet came to him; there followed the pulsations of a motor and the racing of a car away into the night.

      "She's off,"breathed the young man, and there was undoubted relief in the knowledge. "She's off, and I really believe that's what Kirk was after."

      He walked toward the house and found his friend standing in the shadows.

      "Well,"chuckled the investigator, "it did not take her long to make up her mind, eh?"

      "You had some motive in doing that,"accused Pendleton. "What was it?"

      Ashton-Kirk was about to reply; but just then the small figure of Locke made its appearance. He carried a lantern and was approaching with stumbling steps, his eyes peering and blinking in their efforts to pierce the gloom. Not until he was well upon the two did he make them out; then he halted, lifted the light above his head and surveyed them intently.

      In the rays of the lantern Ashton-Kirk smiled urbanely, and bowed. The supple fingers of the mute writhed inquiringly.

      "Each of them forms itself into a wild note of interrogation,"said Pendleton. "They are fairly screaming questions at you."

      Ashton-Kirk smiled even more agreeably at Locke and shook his head. Then he went through the pantomime of one writing, and finished by pointing to the house.

      Carefully, eagerly, fearfully, the mute examined them; his near-sighted eyes and the wavering light must have made it all but impossible for him to make them out. However, he at length motioned for them to follow him, and started back by the way which he had come. But after a few steps he halted. He indicated that they were to remain where they were; then he went to the shed-like building, closed the door and locked it, placing the key in his pocket.

      "It would seem,"observed Ashton-Kirk, "that we are not to be trusted implicitly."

      "Also,"replied Pendleton, "that there is something of value in the shed."

      Returning, Locke led the way to a door upon the other side of the house. Showing them into a small room furnished with books and scientific apparatus and evidently a study, he set down the lantern and with a sign bade them be seated. Upon their doing so he produced a small pad of paper and a pencil; handing these to Ashton-Kirk he stood peering at them expectantly. With the swift, accurate touch of an expert, the investigator wrote in the Pitman shorthand:

      "We ask pardon if we have startled you."

      Then he tore off the sheet and handed it to Professor Locke. The man seemed surprised at the medium selected by his visitor; nevertheless he quickly traced СКАЧАТЬ