Forrester's splendid health, and the prompt treatment he had received,
quickly put him on his feet. The second day after his adventure he had
sufficiently recovered to drive home in his car. This had been placed in
the Bradbury barn by Joshua, who also completed the exchange of tires,
which had been interrupted.
The effect of this incident upon his family worried Forrester. It would
drive his mother into a state of hysterical fear that could not fail to
seriously impede his investigations. When he mentioned this phase of his
accident to Mary Sturtevant, however, he found that the clever and
resourceful girl had foreseen and provided against such an occurrence.
Green had been summoned shortly after Forrester was brought to the
house, the attack explained and instructions given to inform Forrester's
family that a business proposition had called him away unexpectedly for
a few days.
"No one outside of Mr. Green and my servants will ever know of this
incident," Mary Sturtevant informed Forrester, "if _you_ remain silent.
And for my sake I know that you will."
Forrester promised, though strange doubts and misgivings battled with
his affection for the girl. But of what use was love, he reflected, if
it could not stand the fire and acid tests of life's problematical
moments. That the girl loved him he did not question now. It was only
this dark and fearsome mystery which continued to hold them apart.
Back home again, Forrester bathed and changed his clothes; then, after
looking up his mother and sister and accounting for his absence in a
matter of fact manner, he sought Green at his station in the pergola.
"Narrow escape, Mr. Forrester," commented Green, as Forrester shook
hands with him and sat down. "Funny how that Miss Sturtevant happened to
be so handy. What do you say?"
"I came out to have a talk with you, Green, along that line," replied
Forrester. "I have found some of your ideas right to the point. In other
ways you don't seem to get anywhere. Now, for example, your surmise
about the Italians was correct. Your theory that Lucy is not connected
with these people appears to be confirmed by the investigations of the
police. The position you take that the 'Friends of the Poor' are located
in the vicinity of the tree grows stronger every day. But--you don't
seem able to point your finger at a single person or thing that will
give us a solid basis upon which to work. That is what I want now--a
real suggestion that I can follow up, and through which I may hope to
form some definite conclusion or take positive action. We must have
action, Green; quick action."
"I have given you a valuable hint, Mr. Forrester, but you turned it
down. What about them two people I saw on Prentice's lawn--what about
the man who visited Miss Sturtevant and then hid himself behind the tree
and pulled out your package while the excitement was on--what about 'em,
eh? Why, damn it all!" Green exclaimed, jumping to his feet and pounding
a big fist on the palm of his open hand, "just let me get out of here
and I'll show you somethin'. How can I get anywhere, just sittin' here
communin' with the birds. If you won't let me do it, then get out
yourself and find that man. Between him and the girl you got two
startin' points that'll bag the whole crew."
Forrester sat in silence after this outburst. Green was right! The
detective _had_ pointed an accusing finger at Mary Sturtevant. He _had_
given Forrester positive information that she knew something definite
about the "Friends of the Poor," and yet, blinded by his infatuation,
Forrester had done nothing.
"All right, Green," agreed Forrester, "I'll work on your suggestions.
How can we locate that man, however?"
"If he had a date with her once, he'll have another," asserted Green.
"Stick around--that's all. That girl'll solve the case for you yet. Just
get her in a tight corner." Then he leaned down to Forrester and added,
in a low, confidential tone, "And don't forget that old story about them
sireens on the rocks."
----
A few days later Forrester met Mary Sturtevant at a dance. Though he had
promised Green that he would watch her, Forrester had dallied over
taking the first step. Now, as he chatted with her and felt the spell
she always cast over him, Forrester's whole being revolted at the
thought of spying upon her.
"Do you wish any dances?" she inquired, after a time. Forrester's face
flushed. Divided between his disturbing reflections and the enchantment
of her nearness, he had not thought of reserving any dances. He held out
his hand and she placed her dance card in it.
"You see, you are always late," she chided him. "Five dances are already
taken."
"I'll take these three after young Melville," announced Forrester, and
wrote his initials on the card.
Forrester had lost his interest in dancing of late, so he held himself
in the background until it was time to claim his first dance with Mary
Sturtevant. Then he hunted for her everywhere. She was not to be found,
and even after the orchestra had begun to play, she did not appear. He
saw nothing further of her until time for his second dance, when he
suddenly became aware that she was standing by his side.
"You are like the beautiful young woman that the magician passes through
his cabinet," exclaimed Forrester.
"Do I appear and disappear so mysteriously as all that?" she laughed,
but offered no apology nor explanation.
Then the music began and they swept out on the floor.
Just before the dance ended Forrester noted a stir near the conservatory
doors. Though the doors were closed, several people were grouped about
them, apparently looking through the glass at something going on within
the conservatory. When the music stopped Forrester suggested that they
stroll in this direction and ascertain what was taking place. Before
they reached the conservatory doors, however, Mr. Melville, their host,
appeared at Forrester's side. The man's face was pale and drawn.
"Forrester," said Mr. Melville in a low voice, "we have had an accident
in the conservatory. I would appreciate your help. Come around by way of
the hall--the doors from this room have been locked."
Mr. Melville turned away toward the hall and Forrester excused himself
to Mary Sturtevant. He noticed that her face also had paled.
"I think I know what has happened," she said. "Please let me go with
you."
"It might not be agreeable to Mr. Melville," objected Forrester.
"Robert," she whispered, impressively, "you are safe only when I am with
you!"
Forrester stared at her in astonishment. There was a beseeching look in
her eyes, however, and she held her hands out to him with a pleading
gesture which he could not resist.
"Come," he said, briefly, and taking her arm led her across the room and
around through the hall into the conservatory. Near its center, hidden
from prying eyes among palms and flowering plants, they found Mr.
Melville's son stretched out on a bench. Near by stood the father, while
a gray-haired man leaned over the young man. The gray-haired man stood
erect at the sound of Forrester's and the girl's approach. Mr. Melville
was apparently too much distressed to notice Mary Sturtevant's unbidden
presence. He turned to Forrester, informing him simply that the
gray-haired man was a doctor.
The deathly pallor on the young man's face told the story. Forrester,
however, inquired:
"Dead?"
"Yes," replied the doctor. "Asphyxiated!"
"This is the work of the 'Friends of the Poor,' Forrester," asserted Mr.
Melville. "I knew that you were involved and had been carrying on some
investigations in the matter. It occurred to me that there might be some
clues here of value to you. This is the story:
"About two weeks ago I was ordered by these people to place a certain
sum in that oak tree. Naturally, I ignored the demand and notified the
police. Since then I have taken every precaution to protect myself
against attack. Unable to get at me, it seems obvious that these
contemptible wretches have reached me through my son. That, I believe,
is a new angle, and shows the extremes to which these people are
prepared to go."
"When did this happen, Mr. Melville?" asked Forrester.
"About a half-hour ago, I should say, I saw my son pass into the
conservatory with this young lady," and Mr. Melville turned toward Mary
Sturtevant for the first time.
Forrester also turned and looked at the girl. She met his gaze steadily.
"Shortly after I came here," she explained, "my next dancing partner
entered and claimed me. I left young Mr. Melville sitting near that open
window over there."
Forrester gave no outward indication of the shock he had received. He
clearly remembered that after young Melville's dance the next three
dances were his. It was during the first of these, the one she had
intimated belonged to someone else, that he had missed the girl. He
knew, therefore, that she had lied deliberately, placing it squarely up
to him to protect her. "Protect her from what?" thought Forrester. "What
was this frightful new development in the mystery?"
"I decided I wanted a smoke," continued Mr. Melville, "and so came into
the conservatory. A moment later I found my son on the floor beneath
that open window where Miss Sturtevant says she left him. My doctor was
among the guests and I summoned him at once--but too late, it seems."
"Any other facts?" asked Forrester, and received another shock when the
doctor handed him a small piece of filmy white fabric.
"I found this beside the body," said the doctor. And added, as Forrester
took it, "Note the peculiar odor."
Forrester lifted the fabric to his nose. Instantly he recognized the
same pungent, drug-like smell which he had noticed the night he was
attacked with the death mask. Examining the filmy bit of cloth,
Forrester saw that it was a part of a lady's handkerchief which had been
torn in half. In one corner the letter "S" was embroidered. Crumpling
the handkerchief in his hand, Forrester pushed it into his waistcoat
pocket.
"I believe I can make use of this," he said.