Detective Ashton-Kirk (Boxed-Set). John T. McIntyre

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СКАЧАТЬ "he has shown no great strength of character."

      "He's acted like a frightened child all through this affair. He's mixed up in it, and through his weakness allowed Edyth to also entangle herself. Again and again he's run to her, or called to her, to tell her of some fresh complication that he'd gotten his frightened self into; and to protect him, she has dared and done what would have frightened an ordinary woman into fits."

      "I think,"observed Ashton-Kirk, "that she has realized his position, to some extent, at least. The fact that he is weak has, I think, dawned upon her already; she may also see his evident selfishness before long. If she does—why, might there not still be some hope for you, Pen?"

      Pendleton shook his head in the gloom.

      "I'm afraid not,"said he, hopelessly. "Somehow a weak man makes a great appeal to the woman who has grown to care for him. He arouses her mother instinct. And Edyth is so strong that her pity—"

      "May induce her to do her utmost to see him through this trouble,"interrupted Ashton-Kirk. "But it may not carry her much further. When once the thing is over, a reaction may set in. Who knows?"

      But Pendleton refused to be comforted. For a long time they talked of Edyth Vale, Morris, and the killing of Hume. Finally Pendleton said:

      "I suppose we can't smoke here to-night, can we?"

      "No; the lights might be seen; and we can't tell what sharp eyes are watching the place."

      Pendleton sighed drearily.

      There were many clocks in the rooms; the policemen must have amused themselves by winding and setting them; for at the end of each hour they began to strike, singly and in pairs. The brisk strokes of the nervous little modern clock mingled with the solemn sonorous beat of an old New England timepiece whose wooden works creaked and labored complainingly. Elaborate Swiss chimes pealed from others; through the darkness, a persistent cuckoo could be heard throwing open a small shutter and stridently announcing his version of the time.

      It was some time after midnight that Pendleton began to yawn. Then Ashton-Kirk said:

      "Open some of those blankets, Pen, and lie down. There is no need of two of us watching to-night; I scarcely expect anything to happen."

      Pendleton did not expect anything, either, but he said:

      "All right, I will, if you'll wake me in a few hours and let me take a turn at it."

      Ashton-Kirk agreed. Pendleton stretched himself upon the sofa, and soon his deep breathing told that he was asleep. As the night drew on, the solitary watcher grew chilled in the unheated rooms and huddled himself into another blanket; but he sat near the door leading to the hall, which was slightly ajar; and though his eyes closed sometimes in weariness, he never lost a sound in the street or a tick of one of the clocks. Through the entire night he watched and waited almost without moving; it was not until the dawn of a gray, dirty day began to somewhat lighten the room that he aroused Pendleton. The latter expostulated sleepily when he noted the time; but with scarcely a word the investigator took his place upon the sofa and dropped off to sleep.

      About nine o'clock he awoke and found his friend arranging their breakfast upon a small table.

      "I say, Kirk,"said Pendleton, admiringly, "you did this thing rather thoroughly. There's quite a tasty little snack here; and the thermos bottles have kept the coffee steaming."

      At the water tap in the rear the investigator bathed his hands and face; then he sat down with his friend and did complete justice to the breakfast. Afterwards, with their cigars going nicely and a feeling of comfort stealing over them in spite of the rather uncomfortable night, Pendleton said:

      "You promised the other night to tell me what made you think that the murderers had failed to secure the thing they sought. The words that the promise was couched in made me think that you had also something to show me, and as we could not light up last night, I've waited patiently until to-day. Now you must ease my curiosity. Come, tell me a few things."

      Ashton-Kirk took his cigar from his mouth.

      "I told you,"said he, "that the reports of Burgess and Fuller, together with the conversation we had with Tobin, had enlightened me upon these points."As he enumerated them, he checked them off with his fingers:

      "Why the murder was done.

      "The identity of the confederate of Locke.

      "That the man would return to the scene of the crime."

      "Yes,"said Pendleton, "those, I think, were the points."

      "The first two,"went on the investigator, "I will allow to stand for a while. But I promised to illustrate for you, and I think I can do so."

      Ashton-Kirk here arose and passed through the storeroom and kitchen into the bedroom.

      "The writing upon the step in the hall,"said he, facing his friend, "directed Locke's confederate to look for something behind Wayne's portrait. As all the pictures of Wayne in the place were broken or otherwise showed traces of rough handling, it seemed that the thing desired must have been found. However, I was not sure about that, as I have told you.

      "If you will recall Tobin's remarks of the other night, you will note that the only thing he could admire in the man's character was his fighting spirit. Then it developed that Hume made a boast of having come by this naturally enough. He claimed descent from one of Washington's officers. Tobin could not recall the officer's name; but he related an anecdote of him that was unmistakable. The officer was General Wayne!"

      "By George!"cried Pendleton.

      "The collection of Wayne portraits was in this way explained. It was also suggested to me that Hume might be an assumed name—that the numismatist might have once been known as Wayne, and that Locke had known him by that name. Of course, it's quite likely that he was not really a descendant of Wayne. But he probably called himself Wayne nevertheless.

      "I see,"said Pendleton, his hands waving with excitement. "And in the stress of the moment, Locke wrote the name 'Wayne' upon the step in candle grease, forgetting that his confederate only knew their proposed victim as Hume."His eyes rested upon the walls and upon the sneering, unpleasant portrait of the murdered man. "He meant that the thing he desired was there,"indicating the portrait with an exultant sweep of the arm. "And by George, it must be there still."

      He sprang forward with the evident intention of wrenching the picture from the wall; but Ashton-Kirk restrained him.

      "Don't,"said he. "We'll leave that for our expected visitor."

      "Surely,"protested the excited Pendleton, "you don't propose to leave the thing there! Think of the risk! You might lose it in the end; for, you know, one never foresees what is to turn up."

      "A fisherman must always risk losing his lure,"answered the investigator composedly.

      They spent the long hours of the day in smoking and talking; and at intervals they ate the sandwiches and other things which had been smuggled in in the guise of packages of furs. And finally the shadows gathered and thickened once again in Christie Place.

      CHAPTER XXIV

       THE SECOND NIGHT

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