"Yes, sir."
"Bruce and Mr. Landry?"
"I can't see them. They're not at the tab----I see them now. They're
coming this way toward the porch."
"We'll soon know," the blind man said calmly. When Bruce and Alec Landry
stepped from the house he sat in placid contentment, and the tawny
shepherd dog lay at his feet.
"Allan's holding places for you and Joe," Alec Landry said.
The doctor shook his head. "I think I'll stay here. This is a night when
youth has a right to question the presence of gray hairs."
"I'm in no mood for it myself," Bruce Robb said curtly, and dropped into
a chair to the left of Dr. Stone. Landry sat on his right. The blind man
stretched his arms lazily, as one does who takes his rest gratefully, and
his hands fell on an arm of the chair of the man on either side.
"And so Allan rides at dawn," he said casually.
Joe had almost ceased to breathe.
"At dawn," Alec Landry repeated heartily. "By George, there's a picture.
Sir Galahad with the sunrise in his face. Get it, Doctor?"
"Plainly, Alec; very plainly. That's what worries me."
"What worries you?"
"The picture. It's incomplete. First he rides out. So far, so good.
But--is he supposed to come back?"
For the space of a heart-beat it was as though neither man had heard;
then Bruce leaped to his feet.
"Dr. Stone, that's a ghastly thing to say."
"It's a ghastly business," the blind man said without emotion.
"That mumbling gypsy has addled your brain. You're mad. I think I can
find pleasanter company."
He was gone, and Joe grew conscious of a collar that had become too
tight. Would Uncle David let him go, or would Lady be sent to bring him
back? A burst of laughter rolled from the festive dining-room. Dr.
Stone's voice, brooding, came out of the darkness.
"You were desperate, Alec, weren't you?"
"Desperate?" The word was snapped.
"Yes; desperate. The deal that had plunged Bruce to ruin had sucked you
down, too. You didn't know which way to turn. Until Bruce sent up the
mare there seemed no escape; but when the mare arrived it opened the
doors to salvation. It brought a plan. Let the lad ride out alone. Blame
the mare when his body was found--a runaway crash through the bridge.
Hadn't they all seen the mare's wild prancings? You tried to cover
yourself from every angle. You even insinuated that Bruce might have a
reason for sending such a horse--you even called her a devil--and
whispered of Bruce's black mood, and his penniless condition, and the
will. You tried to work the gypsies into the pattern. If some sharp eye
should notice something queer about the way the bridge had collapsed
hadn't there been gypsies encamped nearby? You were too pointed in
calling my attention to the gypsies and their possible relation to the
future events. That was when I began to suspect you. It was inconceivable
that you hadn't known they were on the land. Never before had you
permitted trespass. Why this time?
"The answer was simple. It was the will that Allan was to sign at
midnight. Without question he was to name you executor. It takes a year
to close an estate. With Allan dead the estate, instead of passing out of
your charge, would remain in your control for another twelve months. A
year in which to save yourself from going to prison as a thief. A year in
which to put back the money you used to finance your own personal
business deals. How deeply did you dip your hands into Allan's funds? How
much did you lose? How much are you short?"
There was a stark, sick silence. Joe pulled at his collar and wet his
lips.
"Eighty thousand dollars," Alec Landry said hoarsely.
"And you planned to hide it under a murder," Dr. Stone said in a voice
that was flat, and level, and as cold as ice.
They were singing in the house. Allan, flushed and happy, came out to the
porch.
"Skipper, they want you inside. That bass voice of yours is needed."
Joe held to the porch rail and waited for what might come next.
Alec Landry did not rise. "Allan," he said heavily, "when you ride at
dawn, don't go by the bridge. I've just had word that it's in bad
shape--the weight of a horse would crash it down. It might be a good idea
to run your party over and block the approaches. Some luckless devil
might wander out on it."
Presently the young men were gone with lanterns, and lights, and axes to
build a barricade; and he who had been great on Allan Robb's land waited
in the house for the just punishment that would come; and a boy, and a
dog and a blind man went toward home along the dirt road.
"Conscience, Joe," Dr. Stone said quietly. "You'll remember, I sat
between them. One, or both, were behind the cold-blooded plan. If, out of
a clear sky, knowledge of the plot were exploded, there would have to be
a reaction. I counted on that. Conscience can steel itself to brazenly
meet the expected, but against the unexpected it is unprepared. And so,
when I asked if Allan were expected to return from that ride----"
"Yes?" Joe Morrow asked breathlessly.
"Conscience spoke," Dr. Stone told him quietly. "Alec Landry's chair
trembled as his guilty soul cowered in fear."