It was precisely ten minutes past five o'clock and the long-lingering
May twilight was but just beginning to gather when the spring cart
of the Rose and Thistle arrived at the Abbey stables, and Cleek
and Mr. Narkom descending therefrom found themselves the centre
of an interested group composed of the major and Lady Mary, the
countryside doctor, and Captain MacTavish.
The captain, who had nothing Scottish about him but his name, was a
smiling, debonnaire gentleman with flaxen hair and a curling, fair
moustache; and Cleek, catching sight of him as he stood leaning,
in a carefully studied pose, against the stable door-post with one
foot crossed over the other, one hand in his trousers pocket and
the other swinging a hunting crop whose crook was a greyhound's
head wrought in solid silver, concluded that here was, perhaps,
the handsomest man of his day, and that, in certain sections of
society, he might be guaranteed to break hearts by the hundred. It
must be said of him, however, that he carried his manifold charms of
person with smooth serenity and perfect poise; that, if he realized
his own beauty, he gave no outward evidences of it. He was calm,
serene, well-bred, and had nothing of the "Doll" or the "Johnny"
element in either his bearing or his deportment. He was at once
splendidly composed and almost insolently bland.
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Cleek. Read a great deal about you one
way and another," he said, when the major made the introduction--a
performance which the captain evidently considered superfluous as
between an army officer and a police detective. "Sorry I shan't be
able to remain and study your interesting methods, however. Should
have been rather pleased to do so, otherwise."
"And I for my part should have been pleased to have you do so,
Captain, I assure you," replied Cleek, the first intonation of
his voice causing the captain to twitch up his head and stare at
him as if he were a monstrosity. "Shall you be leaving us, then,
before the investigation is concluded?"
"Well, I'm blest! Why, how in the world--oh--er--yes. Obliged to
go. Wire from London this afternoon. Regiment sails for India in
two days. Beastly nuisance. Shall miss the Derby and all that. By
the way, Norcross, if this chap succeeds in finding the filly in
time for the race, that little bet of ours stands, of course?"
"Of course," agreed the major. "Ready are you, Mr. Cleek? Right you
are--come along." And he forthwith led the way into the stable
where Chocolate Maid, like a perfect horse in French bronze, stood
munching hay in her box as contentedly as if there were no such
things in the world as touts and swindlers and horse thieves, and
her companion of two days ago still shared the quarters with her.
"Gad! but she's a beauty and no mistake, Major," said Cleek as he
went over and, leaning across the low barrier of the enclosure,
patted the mare's shoulder and smoothed her glossy neck. "I don't
wonder that you and her ladyship have such high hopes for her future.
The creature seems well nigh perfect."
"Yes, she is a pretty good bit of horseflesh," replied he, "but not
to be compared with Highland Lassie in speed, wind, or anything.
There _she_ is, Mr. Cleek; and it's as natural as life, the beauty!"
Speaking, he waved his hand toward a framed picture of the missing
animal--a coloured gift plate which had been given away with the
Easter number of _The Horseman_, and which Farrow had had glazed
and hung just over her box. Cleek, following the direction of the
indicating hand, looked up and saw the counterfeit presentment of a
splendidly proportioned sorrel with a splash of white on the flank
and a white "stocking" on the left forefoot.
"A beauty, as you say, Major," agreed he, "but do you know that I,
for my part, prefer the charms of Chocolate Maid? May be bad judgment
upon my part but--there you are. What a coat! What a colour! What
splendid legs, the beauty! Mind if I step in for a moment and have
a look at her?"
The major did not, so he went in forthwith and proceeded to look
over the animal's points--feeling her legs, stroking her flanks,
examining her hoofs. And it was then and then only that the major
remembered about the visit to the farrier's over at Shepperton Old
Cross and began to understand that it was not all simple admiration
of the animal, this close examination of her.
"Oh, by Jove! I say!" he blurted out as he made--with Cleek--a sudden
discovery; his face going first red and then very pale under the
emotions thus engendered. "She _hasn't_ any new shoes on, has she? So
she can't have been taken to the farrier's after all."
"No," said Cleek, "she can't. I half suspected that she hadn't,
so--well, let it go. Let's have a look round Highland Lassie's box,
please. H'm! Yes! Very nice; very splendid--everything of the best
and all in apple pie order. By the way, Major, you surely don't allow
harness to be washed and oiled in here?"
"Certainly not! What in the world could have put such an idea into
your head?"
"Merely that bit of rag and that dirty sponge tucked in the corner
over there and half covered by the bedding."
The major went over and touched the things with the toe of his boot.
"It's one of those imps of stable-boys, the young vandals!" he
declared, as he kicked the rag and the sponge out of the box and
across the stable floor. "It's well for them that Farrow isn't about
or there would be some cuffed ears for that sort of presumption,
the young beggars! Hullo! Found something else?"
"No," said Cleek. "That is, nothing of any importance. Merely a bit
torn from an old handbill--see? It probably got mixed up with the
bedding. It's of no account, anyhow." Here he gave his hand a flirt
as if flinging the bit of paper over the low barrier of the box,
instead of which he cleverly "palmed" it and afterward conveyed it
unsuspected to his pocket. "You were right in what you declared
this afternoon, Major; for a case of such far-reaching effects it
is singularly bald in the matter of detail. At all events there's no
more to be discovered here. By the way, Doctor, am I privileged to
go up and see the patient? I should like to do so if I may."
"By all means, sir, by all means," replied the doctor. "I am happy
to inform you that his condition has considerably improved since
my visit at noon, Mr. Cleek, and I have now every hope that he may
pull through all right."
"Excellent!" said Cleek. "But I think I shouldn't let that good news
go abroad just yet a while, Doctor. If you haven't taken anybody
into your confidence regarding it as yet, don't do so. You haven't,
have you?"
"No. That is, nobody but those who are now present. I told the
major and her ladyship on their return this afternoon, of course.
And--naturally--Captain MacTavish. He was with me at the time I made
the examination, which led me to arrive at the conclusion that the
man would survive."
"Ah!" said Cleek--and the curious, one-sided smile went slowly up his
cheek. "Oh, well, everything is all right among friends, of course,
but I shouldn't let it go any farther. And now, if you please, let us
go up to Farrow's room."
They went up forthwith--Lady Mary alone refraining from joining the
group--and a moment or two later Cleek found himself standing beside
the bed of the unconscious trainer.
He was a strong, sturdily built man, this Tom Farrow, upon whose
integrity the major banked so heavily in his warm, trustful,
outspoken way; and if the face is any index to the mind--which, in
nine cases out of ten, it isn't!--that trustfulness and confidence
were not misplaced. For Farrow's was a frank, open countenance which
suggested a clear conscience and an honest nature, even though it
was now pale and drawn with the lines that come of suffering and
injury.
At Cleek's request the doctor removed the bandages and allowed him
to inspect the wound at the back of the head.
"H'm! Made with a heavy implement shaped somewhat after the
fashion of a golf stick and almost as heavy as a sledge hammer,"
he commented. "Arm broken, too. Probably that was done first, and
the man struck again after he was on the ground and unable to
defend himself. There are two blows, you see: this one just above the
ear, and that crushing one at the back of the head. That's all I
care to see, Doctor, thank you. You may replace the bandages."
Nevertheless, although he asserted this, it was noticeable that his
examination of the stricken trainer did not end here; for while the
doctor was busy replacing the bandages he took the opportunity to
lift the man's hands and inspect them closely--parting the fingers
and looking at the thin, loose folds of skin between them. A few
minutes later, the bandages being replaced and the patient turned
over to the nurse in charge, the entire party left the room and filed
down the stairs together.
"Any ideas, Mr. Cleek?" questioned the major, eagerly.
"Yes, plenty of them," replied he. "I rather fancy we shall not have
to put you to the trouble of housing us at the Abbey to-night, Major.
The case is a shallower one than I fancied at first. Shouldn't be
surprised if we cleared it all up inside of the next two hours."
"Well, I'll be--dithered!" exclaimed the major, aghast. "Do you mean
to tell me that you've got at the bottom of the thing? That you've
found something that leads you to suspect where the animal is?"
"More than suspect, Major. I know where she is. By half-past seven
o'clock to-night--if you want me to make you a promise--I'll put her
bridle into your hands and she will be at the other end of it!"
"You will?"
"I certainly will, Major--my word for it."
"Well, of all the dashed----I'm done! I'm winded! I'm simply
scooped dry! Where on earth did you get your clues, man? You
never did anything but walk about that I could see; and now to
declare----I say, MacTavish, did you hear that? Did you hear what he
has promised--eh?"
"I heard," responded the captain with a laugh. "But I'll believe when
I see. I say, Mr. Inspector, where did you find the secret? Hidden
between Farrow's fingers or wrapped around Chocolate Maid's legs?"
"Both," said Cleek serenely. "Tell you something else if you care
to hear it. I know who poisoned the dog the other night. Farrow did
it himself."
The major's exclamation of indignation was quite lost in the peal of
the captain's laughter.
"Hawkshaw out-Hawkshawed!" cried he derisively. "Find out that, too,
from Farrow's fingers?"
"Oh, no--that would be impossible. He washed them before he went
out that night and they've been washed by the nurse several times
since. I found it out from the dog himself--and he's not the only dog
in this little business, believe me--though I'm willing to stake
my reputation and my life upon it that neither one nor the other
of them had any hand in spiriting away the missing horse."
"Who did, then, Mr. Cleek? who did?"
"Tom Farrow and Tom Farrow alone, Major," began Cleek--and then
stopped suddenly, interrupted by a painful circumstance.
By this time they had reached the foot of the stairs and were filing
out into the stable again, and there by the open door Lady Mary
Norcross was standing endeavouring to soothe and to comfort a weeping
girl--Maggie McFarland, the dairymaid from Nairn.
"Oh, but say he winna dee--say he winna!" she was crying out
distressfully. "If I thoct the sin o' that wad added to the sair
conscience o' me." Then with a sudden intaking of the breath, as if
drowning, and a sudden paleness that made her face seem ivory
white, she cowered away, with hands close shut, and eyes wide with
fright as she looked up and saw the gentlemen descending.
"It winna matter--it winna matter: I can come again, my leddy!" she
said in a frightened sort of whisper which rose suddenly to a sort
of wailing cry as she faced round and ran like a thing pursued.
Cleek glanced round quietly and looked at Captain MacTavish. He was
still his old handsome, debonnaire, smiling self; but there was a
look in his eyes which did not make them a very pleasant sight at
present.
"Upon my word, Seton, I cannot make out what has come over that silly
girl," said Lady Mary as her liege lord appeared. "She came here
begging to be allowed to go up and see Farrow and to be assured that
he would live, and then the moment you all put in an appearance she
simply dashed away, as you saw. I really cannot understand what can
be the matter with her."
"Don't bother about that just now, Mary; don't bother about anything,
my dear, but what this amazing man has promised," exclaimed the
major excitedly. "Do you know, he has declared that if we give him
until half-past seven to-night----"
Here Cleek interrupted.
"Your pardon, Major--I amend that," he said. "I know all about the
horse and it will not now take so long as I thought to know all about
the 'dog' as well. Give me one hour, Major--just one, gentlemen,
all--and I will give you the answer to the riddle--every part of it:
dog's part as well as horse's--here on this spot, so surely as I
am a living man. Major, all I ask of you is one thing. Let me have
a couple of your grooms out there on the moor inside of the next
fifteen minutes, please. May I have them?"
"Certainly, Mr. Cleek--as many as you want."
"Two will do, thanks. Two are enough for fair play in any little bout
and--not going to stop and see the finish, Captain? It will all be
over in an hour."
"Sorry, but I've got my packing to attend to, my man."
"Ah, to be sure. Oh, well, it doesn't matter. You know the proverb:
'If the mountain will not come to Mahomet, why, Mahomet must go to
the mountain,' of course," said Cleek. "I'll just slip round to the
dairy and have a glass of milk to brace me up for the business and
then--in one hour--in just one by the watch--you shall have the
answer to the riddle--_here_."
Then, with a bow to Lady Mary, he walked out of the stable and went
round the angle of the building after Maggie McFarland.