LIGHT AT LAST--CONCLUSION
As soon as Adam Adams returned to Sidham he communicated with the chief
of police, and with several other persons, and also sent two telegrams
to New York. He tried to find Charles Vapp, but could not locate his
assistant.
The detective's plans were laid with care and he gave the posse of men
under him minute instructions as to what to do. In the midst of the
work Raymond and Tom Ostrello appeared.
"Let me go along," said Raymond. "I want to do my little towards
rounding that gang up."
"And so do I," came from the young commercial traveler.
"You may go as far as Styles' farm, if you wish," said Adam Adams.
"But why not look for Miss Langmore instead?"
At this Raymond's face grew troubled.
"We have looked everywhere--" he began.
"As you please."
It was not long after this that a portion of the party set out, to be
followed presently by the rest. The men did not keep together, but
scattered in a wide semicircle, and then in a circle, which completely
surrounded the Styles' farm, and the old mill, and its vicinity.
As they approached the farm they saw the man called Bart come out, and
walk towards the barn. He was promptly arrested by Adam Adams and was
asked where Matlock Styles could be found.
"I don't know," he answered sullenly. "I don't know why you are
arresting me. I haven't done anything wrong."
"We'll see about that later," returned the detective, and when the man
wanted to blow a whistle he carried, promptly prevented it, and took
the whistle away. Then the man was compelled to quiet the dogs, which
he did with bad grace.
In the kitchen of the house they found the old woman, who gave a cry of
alarm when told that she must give herself up to the law.
"Sure, I didn't have anything to do with it!" she wailed. "I--I didn't
touch the young lady!"
"What's that?" cried Raymond, stepping forward.
"I didn't touch the young lady, sir. I offered her something to eat,
that's all."
"Can she mean Margaret?" whispered Tom Ostrello.
"Where did you meet Miss Langmore?" demanded Raymond sharply.
"Up at the old cottage on the hill. I--I didn't take her there. It
was--" She stopped short. "I can't tell you. Mat would kill me,"
she whined.
"See here, tell all you know," came sternly from Adam Adams. "I know
you. You once ran a baby farm, and a baby died, and I know how."
The old woman gave a shriek and fell on her knees, rocking to and fro.
"I knew it! I knew it would come! It can't be hid any longer! Yes, I
did it!"
"Where is Miss Langmore?" demanded Raymond impatiently.
"At the cottage on the hill. Mat took her there. He's in love with
her. Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" she began to rock to and fro again. "I
knew it would come! Murder will out, they say!"
"Take us to that cottage and be quick about it," said Raymond. "Will
you go along?" he asked of Adam Adams and Tom Ostrello.
They said they would, and set off without delay. It was rather a long
walk and the old woman was out of breath when they reached the building
near the top of the hill.
"Watch her," said the detective to Tom Ostrello, and he and Raymond
entered the cottage. As they did so, they stumbled over a person lying
on the floor.
"Margaret!" burst out the young man and caught his sweetheart in his
arms. Then he gave a gasp, and staggered with his burden to the bed.
"She is dead!"
"Dead!" ejaculated Adam Adams. "You are certain?" He placed his ear
to her heart. "No, she still lives."
"But what does this mean? Margaret! Margaret! Speak to me! What has
happened to you?"
The girl offered no reply, nor did she open her eyes. She rested on
him and on the bed like a leaden weight. He kissed her fondly, a great
agony filling his soul.
Adam Adams looked around the room. On the table rested a glass, with a
dirty substance at the bottom. He tasted the stuff. It was sweetishly
bitter. He ran outside.
"Tell me at once, did Matlock Styles say anything about poisoning this
young lady?" he demanded, catching the old woman by the arm. "The
truth now, remember!"
"No, he didn't say anything. But he had some poison, a powder--you put
it in water. It kills a person in six to ten hours, sure."
"We must have a doctor!"
Tom Ostrello had heard the talk and saw what had happened.
"I'll get a doctor, if you'll watch the old woman. I can get a horse
at Styles' farm."
"Do it, and hurry!" cried Raymond. "Take the best horse and bring the
doctor at once. Tell him it is poison--a powder in water. Offer him
any amount of money--"
"I will!" Ostrello shouted back. He was running down the hill path
with the swiftness of a college sprinter. In a moment the bushes hid
him from sight.
Adam Adams was talking to the old woman. "You know about the poison.
Is there nothing we can give her to counteract the effects? Do
something, and I'll not be so hard on you when you stand up for trial."
"I can do nothing. But wait, yes, I can! Make a fire, and boil some
water!"
She ran to the back of the cottage and to some bushes growing close at
hand. With her bare hands she dug at the roots and tore them up,
stripping off the bark with her teeth. Adam Adams comprehended, and
lit a fire and set on the kettle to boil. Then the roots were placed
in the boiling water.
"Make her drink--it will do her good," said the old woman. "I swear it
will help, at least a little--until the doctor comes." And with
shaking hands, she poured the concoction she had made into a saucer to
cool.
It was no easy matter to get Margaret to swallow, but after a while it
was accomplished, and her heart appeared to beat a trifle more
steadily. But still she did not rouse up or open her eyes, and Raymond
was as depressed as before.
"We can't overcome the effects of the drug," he groaned. "Oh, if only
the doctor would come!"
"Give her some more," said the old woman. "Give her all of it," and
this was done.
Slowly the time dragged by, until they heard a shouting in the
distance, followed by a pistol shot. Then two horses burst into view,
one ridden by Ostrello, and the other by a doctor who lived not a great
distance away.
"I will do all I can," said the physician, as he leaped to the ground.
He set to work at once, meanwhile questioning the old woman regarding
what had already been done. "That was all right--it has helped to put
the patient into a perspiration and keep up the heart action."
"Another doctor is also coming," said Ostrello to Raymond and the
detective.
"In that case I'll join my men," came from Adam Adams. "By that pistol
shot something must be doing. I will be back later. See that that old
woman does not get away." And he was off.
Something was indeed doing. The old mill had been surrounded and the
chief of police had entered the building, followed by several other men
of the party. The counterfeiters were taken by surprise, but they did
not give up at once. Some began to fight, and in the melee two were
seriously wounded. Then all but three surrendered, these three doing
what they could to get out by a back way. One of the three was Matlock
Styles.
The three men came out in the woods, and one was quickly shot in the
leg, and fell headlong among the trees. Seeing this the second man
shouted that he would surrender, and threw up his arms as a signal.
"You bloomin' fool! I'll not surrender!" cried Matlock Styles, and ran
on, through the woods, and up the hill that led to the cottage.
He was still some distance off, when Adam Adams saw him coming. The
detective had his pistol in his hand.
"Stop, Styles, or I'll fire on you!" he called out.
For an answer the Englishman raised his own pistol and fired point
blank, the bullet cutting through the loose flap of Adam Adams' coat.
Then the Englishman went down, with a bullet in his left side. When
Adam Adams ran up to him he was twisting and breathing heavily.
"You've done me up, hang you!" he gasped. "Oh, if I only could get at
you!" and he tried to crawl towards his pistol, but Adam Adams promptly
kicked it out of the way.
"You're down and out, Styles," said the detective. "It won't do you
any good to squirm. You're in the hands of the law."
"What for, counterfeiting?"
"That and worse."
"Worse?"
"Yes, a good deal worse. Murder!"
By nightfall all of the prisoners were either in the jail or at the
hospital at Sidham. Some of the secret service authorities from New
York had arrived, and to them Adam Adams turned over the case, so far
as it related to the counterfeiters.
"I did not start out to round up such a gang," he said, in speaking of
the affair to Mr. Breslow, some days later. "I came here to clear up
the murder mystery."
"But you get the credit, Adams," said the head of the secret service
detail. "And you deserve it. But do you think you are going to
convict Matlock Styles of the tragedy?"
"It's a sure thing. The _alibi_ won't bother me, for I can now prove
it was a bogus one. John Watkins got the poison for him, and promised
to impersonate him at Stony Hill, while the crime was being committed.
He did it, but I have found two people who thought it was not Styles
after all. Watkins himself is willing to testify that he did the
impersonating."
"How did they happen to use that strange powder?"
"Watkins got it from a friend of his, who afterwards mentioned the fact
to Tom Ostrello. When Styles got it I suppose he thought the use of it
might throw suspicion on Ostrello, which it did. Then suspicion was
also thrown on Miss Langmore, so that the general public might get
tangled up."
"Did Styles write that note, which was supposed to have been written by
Mr. Langmore, saying she must obey or leave the house?"
"Yes. He is an expert penman, and most likely a regular forger as well
as counterfeiter. He only made a mistake when he drank too much."
"Did Watkins know any of the details of the murder?"
"Yes. After it was over, Styles came to him and told his story, being
half drunk at the time. He said he left home and came through the
woods, where he saw Tom Ostrello just coming from the Langmore mansion.
As soon as the coast seemed clear, he ran past the bushes and got in
the house by a window. He found Mr. Langmore in the library and asked
again for the counterfeits. Langmore said he was going to give them to
the authorities, and expose Styles. Then the Englishman said he would
explain, and Langmore sat down in his chair to listen. Styles turned
around, took some cotton from his pocket, and saturated it with the
powder, and sprang at Langmore from behind. The victim struggled and
got his face scratched from the Englishman's ring. Langmore was no
match for his assailant, and in a minute the murder was done. Then
Styles ran upstairs. He knew the servant was in the barn, and he heard
Miss Langmore playing on the piano in the parlor. He met Mrs. Langmore
just coming from her room. She was scared, but before she could scream
or resist, he gave her what was left of the powder and she fell over
where she was found. Then he stepped out of an upper window to the top
of the piazza and dropped to the ground, and came away across the brook
and through the woods."
"Then you are bound to convict him. What of Watkins?"
"I'll use him as a witness against Styles in the murder trial and then
you can have him tried as a counterfeiter. The old woman will also
prove a good witness. She is so old, and has promised to reform, so
there is no use of our pushing a charge against her. The rest of the
crowd will all get what they deserve. I'm glad we got the bogus
printing plates."
"Have you heard anything of the Langmore estate?"
"Yes. Mr. Langmore left his wife her legal share, and the balance to
his daughters, Margaret getting a little the larger portion. Mrs.
Langmore leaves her money to her sons, one-fourth to Dick, the
spendthrift, and three-fourths to Tom. I have also rooted out some
papers among Styles' effects, which will give Tom Ostrello his patent
back, and also give some patent rights to Mr. Langmore's estate. I can
tell you, Matlock Styles was a deep one. It was only once in a great
while that he drank and bungled."
"Well, the greatest of criminals have their weak spots, you know that
as well as I do. Styles, I suppose, also got up that bogus confession,
signed in Miss Langmore's name."
"He did. When he found the girl wouldn't marry him, he was wild and
ready for any treachery."
"And how is the girl doing?"
"I am going to see now."
When out on the street, Adam Adams ran into Tom Ostrello, arm in arm
with Letty. He was amazed for an instant, and then his face broke into
a smile.
"I just couldn't help it, Uncle Adam!" cried the girl. "I had to come
here to congratulate Tom on his escape."
"Well, I don't blame you, Letty. Yes, it has turned out well for you.
I hope it turns out as well for Miss Langmore and Mr. Case."
Margaret was again at Martha Sampson's cottage. When the detective
entered he heard a murmur of voices in one of the upper rooms. He ran
upstairs, to find the girl sitting up in bed and Raymond by her side.
The young man's face was filled with happiness.
"Come in! Come in!" he cried joyously. "She has come around all
right, Mr. Adams. She is a little weak still, but the doctor says she
will be well as ever in a week or ten days. The good news has braced
her up wonderfully."
"And all due to you, Mr. Adams," said the girl. "Oh, how can I ever
thank you enough?" She clasped his hand warmly. "You are so good!"
"This is certainly famous," he replied, sitting down at the foot of the
bed. "It's the best news yet. I have just left one happy couple and
here I find another."
"You mean Tom Ostrello and that young lady from your office?" asked
Raymond. And then, as the detective nodded, he went on: "I met them,
and I asked them to come here. Margaret wanted to see them."
"I wish Tom to know that I want to be friends, always," said Margaret.
"We have had enough of trouble in the family. And when he gets
married, I want to be friends with his wife, too."
"I am glad to hear that, for I know it will please Letty and she is a
good girl. It may be-- Here they come, now!"
A minute later the newcomers were ushered into the sick room, and the
two girls, who had never met, were introduced to each other. It was a
happy meeting all around, and the lovers were all as devoted as lovers
can well be. Seeing this, Adam Adams thought it about time to leave.
"I am going now," he said, and stopped at the door.
"So soon?" asked Margaret.
"Yes, I have another important case on hand," answered Adam Adams.
"Another case?" queried Tom Ostrello. "Well, I wish you luck, I am
sure."
"We all do," chimed in Raymond.
"What is it?" queried Letty.
Adam Adams smiled broadly. "As you are no longer connected with the
office, I cannot tell you," he said.
"Maybe I can guess it!" cried Raymond. "The disappearance of John
Darr--the case all New York is talking about?"
Adam Adams smiled faintly. "You've struck it," he said. "It is a
wonderful case, and will demand all of my attention. But I'll be back
tomorrow. In the meantime, I want you all to remember that you owe me
an invitation."
"An invitation to what?" asked both girls, in a breath, and knowing
perfectly well what he meant.
"An invitation to the weddings, when they come off."
"Oh!" came in a little feminine shriek.
"Well, you get them," said Raymond.
"Indeed, he does," said Tom.
And he did.