SLEEPING DOGS
No one deemed Kimball Webb dead, yet the grave itself could not have
been more silent than the circumstances of his absence.
The public generally were divided into two classes, those who thought he
had decamped to avoid his wedding and those who thought he had been
abducted for some undiscovered reason.
The Webb family were extremely reticent, and neither Mrs. Webb nor
Henrietta expressed definite beliefs or fears. Even to their nearest and
dearest friends they showed an attitude of patient waiting and cheery
hopefulness of Kimball's return. This caused, in many minds, suspicion
that they knew where Kimball was, and had no fears for his safety.
The Powell family,--that is, Mrs. Powell and Gerty, were growing daily
more alarmed and anxious about the future. If Kimball did not reappear
before the thirtieth of June, and if Elsie persisted in her refusal to
marry any one else, their present income would cease entirely, they
would have to move out of their luxurious home, and the outlook was most
dismal.
There were many men ready and willing to marry Elsie Powell, and not
alone for the fortune she would inherit. Elsie had had "shoals of
suitors" ever since her school days, and though when she met Kimball
Webb, she discarded all serious thought of the others, they did not so
easily give her up.
Fenn Whiting was the most zealous and insistent of the lot. He had
worshipped Elsie for years. He had been forced to step aside in Webb's
favour, but now, with Webb out of the running, he renewed his suit with
all the ardour of his intense nature.
He put the matter before Elsie in every possible light. He offered to
marry her after her birthday had passed and she was a poor girl, or
before her birthday, when the marriage would assure her the fortune. The
decision was left to her. Or, he suggested, he would consider her
engaged to him, she could set the wedding day whenever she chose, and,
then, if Webb turned up before the hour, he would abdicate in his
favour.
No one could make more generous or more magnanimous proposals, and Elsie
was touched by his patience and devotion.
Yet she could not bring herself to agree to his plans. There was nearly
a month, still, before her birthday, and much might happen in a month.
Then, too, Joe Allison was to be considered. He, also, wanted to marry
Elsie, but he adhered to his plan of waiting until after her birthday
when the control of the fortune would be his.
This, he declared, in no way reflected on his love or consideration for
her, but it seemed to him, more fitting in every way, that the husband
should own the fortune,--especially as he was willing to give his wife
_carte blanche_ and also to provide liberally for her family.
Elsie rather admired the staunchness of his purpose in this respect, for
she had come to know Allison well enough to appreciate his strong will
and his hard common sense.
Meantime, Coleman Coe was busily stirring up his sleeping dogs.
He seemed to possess an uncanny intuition as to where sleeping dogs were
lying, and he went straight, though secretly, after them.
His methods were, perhaps, unusual, for he depended largely on
assistants. His belief was, that he could do better work by farming out
the drudgery of his pursuit, and doing only the thinking parts himself.
So, he had a fairly good-sized corps of assistants, whom he had trained
to do just what he told them and no more.
By far the greater part of them were shadowers.
Not professional trailers, from a detective Bureau, but men, boys,--and
also girls, whom he had picked here and there with a view to their
special adaptation for the work.
Coe's great first principle was to learn what a suspect is doing when he
doesn't think he is watched.
Therefore, with careful and comprehensive effort, he was making a list
of the people he wanted shadowed.
Coley Coe, was neither visionary nor imaginative. He did depend a great
deal on intuition, but only when it was undoubtedly in accordance with
facts.
His list completed, he put his machinery in motion, and soon had quiet
but efficient trailers following the daily routine of both Henrietta
Webb and her mother, also their two men servants, Hollis and Oscar.
Then, a competent shadow never lost sight of Joe Allison. Another was
unobtrusively at the heels of Fenn Whiting, and another reported duly
every move of Wallace Courtney.
Lulie Lloyd was under secret surveillance, as was Owen Thorne, the
trusted trustee.
This work in the hands of efficient workers was neither difficult nor
onerous, and it gave Coe a wide outlook of possibilities when the
reports came in.
Nor was Coley himself idle. He could cover a great many occasions denied
to his underlings. He could see the Webb ladies in their home
surroundings; could call on Allison or Whiting when he chose, could
demand an interview with Wallace Courtney however much that busy
gentleman might object; and could see Lulie Lloyd any time he cared to
invite her out for an evening.
In fact, Lulie was quite taken with the gay young Coe, and small wonder,
for he deliberately determined that she should be.
No girl of Lulie Lloyd's stamp could resist the lure of Coley's admiring
blue eyes, or the fascination of the tossing hair above his brow.
Even Elsie found him so agreeable that her mother said pettishly, "If
that young busy-body never succeeds in finding Kim, you might marry
him--"
She stopped, a little frightened at the look Elsie gave her.
"Don't look at me like that," she cried.
"Then never say anything of that sort again," Elsie warned her, in a
severe voice. "I've trouble enough, mother, without such thoughtless,
heartless speeches from you."
"Oh, pshaw, Elsie," spoke up Gerty, "mother didn't mean anything. If you
take it so seriously I shall think you're really interested in Coley
Coe."
"I am, to the extent of his work for me,--and no further."
"I've yet to see any extent to his work," sneered Gerty; "it seems to me
that he doesn't get anywhere."
"Give him time," Elsie retorted. "He's only been on the case about a
week. But, truly, Gert, I have faith in him. I believe he'll find
Kimball yet!"
"Well, I don't. You may rest assured that whoever put Kim out of the way
will keep him out till after your birthday. And I think, Elsie, you
ought to decide what you're going to do. It's too awful for you to sit
still, and let your birthday go by, without marrying anybody."
"Far more awful to marry somebody you don't care for. Look here, you and
mother both married for love; why should _I_ sacrifice myself for the
greed of my family--"
"Oh, Elsie," cried her mother, "what a way to put it!"
"It's the truth," said Elsie, doggedly, "and you two must admit it. You
want me to marry just so you can continue to live here in luxury, and
have no care about money matters."
"I'm sure I think more of your welfare than my own," insisted Mrs.
Powell. "I want my child to secure the inheritance that was left to
her."
"At the cost of all my happiness in life!" stormed Elsie. "At the cost
of a broken heart and a loveless marriage,--the saddest fate that can
befall a woman!"
"Rubbish!" exclaimed Gerty. "Cut out the histrionics, Elsie. You're too
young to think your heart is for ever bound up in Kimball Webb. There
are lots of men as good as he,--and if you'd never met him, you would
have been entirely satisfied with Fenn Whiting,--who is really the finer
man of the two."
"Gerty, I'm ashamed of you. Suppose somebody had told you another man
was better or finer than Philip, would you have calmly agreed?"
"That's different. And it doesn't matter. Had I been situated as you
are, I would have thought it my duty to marry some good man rather than
let my mother and sister know want."
"Yes, had you been situated as I am, you would have married anybody, for
your own sake, rather than lose five million dollars!"
"I should," Gerty calmly agreed; "and ninety-nine women out of a hundred
would do the same."
"Then I'm the hundredth," Elsie spoke with a quiet decision, "for I
repeat, what you already know, I will never marry any one but Kimball
Webb,--money or no money,--family or no family."
"That I should live to hear a child of mine talk like that!" wailed Mrs.
Powell. "Elsie, have you no heart? Have you no compassion for an invalid
mother,--a sorrow-stricken sister,--two helpless little children? What
sort of a monster are you?"
"Don't, mother!" Elsie begged, her lovely face aghast at the accusations
hurled at her.
"Mother is right," said Gerty; "I haven't the same authority over you,
as your mother, but if I had, I should command you to do what is so
clearly your duty. I do not speak for myself, but for mother's sake, and
for the sake of my lovely innocent children, I humiliate my pride and
beg of you,--beg of you, Elsie, to save us from disgrace and poverty."
"You do speak for yourself," Elsie's clear eyes rested on her sister,
"you do think of yourself first, Gerty, you always do,--though you
pretend you don't. And I don't see how you can! It is
outrageous,--heathenish for you to talk as you do,--both of you! You
practically want to sell me,--sell me for your own comfort and ease! And
I refuse to be sold!"
"Very well, then," and Gerty looked despairing, "there's no more to be
said. We may as well begin to get ready to leave this apartment. Where
we can go, I've no idea. You know what rents are, now; you know how
impossible it is to get an apartment of any sort,--and, too, we can't
afford _any_ apartment! I suppose we shall have to live in a tenement
house,--or go into the country."
"I expect to get work," said Elsie.
"Don't be ridiculous, child," said her mother. "What work can you
possibly do?"
"Oh, there are lots of things,--stenography,--private secretary, open a
tea room--"
"Elsie," and Gerty looked very stern. "Do try to talk sense! If you're
really thinking you can do those things, let me remind you that
stenography requires a year, at least, for tuition and practice; a tea
room requires capital, influence and a special adaptation for that sort
of thing,--which you haven't got. As for a private secretary, you're
about the least fitted for that of any one I know! You can't keep your
own desk in order, or your own correspondence looked after. You're for
ever forgetting engagements, and you're accustomed to an idle life,
getting up when you choose and being absolute mistress of your time. You
couldn't adapt yourself to routine work, or to being always at the beck
and call of anybody, so you couldn't make a success of any of those
things. The result would be that instead of providing a home, you would
be everlastingly sent back home from your work because of your failure
to give satisfaction."
Elsie looked at her sister, a dumb acquiescence in her big brown eyes.
They had a hunted expression, as of a frightened fawn at bay.
"Then, what _can_ I do! Oh, Gerty, help me! You're my older sister, give
me some real help--tell me some way I can satisfy you and mother, and
not--not be sold like a slave in the market!"
"Dear child," and Gerty became suddenly suave and gentle, "it isn't
being sold to give yourself to some good and worthy man. And, it is as
your loving elder sister that I advise you as I do. I speak truly, when
I tell you you could never earn your living at any business. In this
day, skilled labour is required; the services of experienced, efficient
girls are demanded and a beginner, a learner, has no chance at all. Now,
marriage, with a true-hearted, honourable man, is the best lot that
could befall you,--"
"Without love!"
"Love will come. No woman can remain insensible to the devotion of a
loving husband. Fenn Whiting--"
"I won't marry Fenn Whiting! I hate him!"
"Well, Mr. Harbison--"
"I hate him, too!" Elsie was white with angry excitement. "I hate
everybody but Kim!"
"Oh, well, if you're going to act like that!" Gerty gave up the
argument.
But Mrs. Powell took it up.
"Your sister is right, Elsie, dear," she said; "and I'm sure you must
know your own mother would be the last person in the world to advise you
to do anything wrong or anything that might endanger your happiness. But
a woman's happiest life is the married life. You will eventually believe
this; you will some day marry, and if Kimball never returns, it will be
some other man. Why not realize this, and marry now, thus securing the
great wealth that is rightfully your own but can be attained only by
your marriage. Don't harp on love,--as Gerty says, it will come with
your married life. It will unfold like a beautiful flower as the time
goes on,--as you live with and in the companionship of a good kind
man--"
"Mother, do stop!" Elsie cried, in desperation. "If you want me to
sacrifice myself for that detestable money, say so! But don't get off
all that foolish argument about love coming after marriage and all that!
In fact you stand a better chance of persuading me, if you say frankly
it's for your sake and Gerty's, than if you talk rubbish about me."
"I thought you'd see your duty," Gerty cried, clutching at the straw
Elsie had tacitly held out. "Do it for us, then, Elsie! Marry whomever
you will, goodness knows you've enough to choose from, but do it before
the thirtieth of June! Will you,--_will_ you, Elsie?"
She hung on her sister's words, she listened for Elsie's decision.
"Oh, Gerty, let me think--"
"You've had time enough to think. If you're to be married before the
thirtieth, it's time we began preparations."
"Preparations? They're all made. I have my trousseau,--"
"Yes, of course. The principal preparation is to decide on the right
man."
"There's only one right man," and Elsie's eyes were piteous.
"Yes, yes," said Gerty, hurriedly, "I mean the nicest man except
Kimball. Now, let's think him over. You don't really hate Fenn, do you?"
"No, I don't hate him,--he's a good friend, and all that. But, oh, Gert,
I couldn't live with him! He has no,--no imagination."
"You mean no love of hifalutin poetry, and that sort of thing that you
and Kim fooled so much time over."
"Yes,--I suppose I do."
"Well, let me tell you, a strong, sound personality like Fenn Whiting,
is worth a lot more in the long run than a mooning, visionary sort of
person."
"Kim isn't mooning and visionary."
"Never mind Kim. Say, Elsie, how do you like Joe?"
"Joe Allison! Marry him! Oh, Gerty, ridiculous! And, too, he insists on
having the money in his own right."
"He won't, if you insist the other way. Joe's over head and ears in love
with you, and if you like you can twist him round your finger."
"I suppose I could,--but Joe is so--so--, oh, sort of raw--"
"Raw! Joe Allison! Why, Elsie, he's most polished,--most correct of
manner, most delightful conversationalist--"
"Hold on, Gert, you're making him out a paragon! If he's all that, in
your eyes, why don't you marry him yourself? You're bound to marry
again, sooner or later, and really, it would settle things beautifully,
if I let my birthday pass, let Joe get the money, and then let him marry
you instead of me. You could give me enough to live on,--and I could
wait for Kim."
"Great scheme, Elsie," Gerty said, coldly; "there's only the
objection,--Joe wouldn't have me."
"Oh, so you've thought it over, have you? Well, Gerty, I don't know just
what I shall do. But I'm not going to be pushed to a decision. I'm
waiting on Mr. Coe's actions. He may find Kim for me--"
"Not likely!" Gerty scoffed.
"No, I fear it isn't likely. But I'm still hoping for it. Anyway, I
won't be forced into this wedding you insist upon. If I agree, I'll tell
you in time for you to make the 'preparations' you talk about. But I
won't have a big wedding--"
"No, dearest, just a small, quiet affair,--oh, Elsie, how sweet you are!
I knew you'd see reason at last--"
"I haven't seen it yet,--and I haven't said positively that I will!"
Gerty kept silent, lest she should lose the ground she had already
gained in the conflict.
That evening Coley Coe called to report to Elsie.
"Let's go out somewhere where we can talk unheard," he urged.
"Oh, we're all right in the drawing room," Elsie demurred, "no one can
overhear us here."
"Yes, they can. Come out somewhere."
So Elsie agreed and they went for a stroll, winding up at a quiet
pleasant restaurant where they had supper.
"I've a lot of wild information," Coe informed her; "and I believe when
it's sifted out, we'll find out things, decidedly important, if true!"
"Such as?" Elsie asked, smiling at his impetuous manner.
"I've had my minions out stirring up sleeping dogs, and by George, Miss
Powell, they've wakened up some mighty funny curs!"
"Tell me all about it," and Elsie's interest equalled Coley's own.
"Well, to begin with, the Hen, Henrietta, is a most mysterious person.
That is, she goes on most mysterious errands, secretly and alone."
"To visit her brother! In his concealment!" Elsie jumped at the
conclusion.
"Dunno yet. Know where she goes, all right,--but not what for. But we'll
find out. Things are working. Then, Mrs. Webb, the old lady, she goes on
private missions also. They're a queer pair!"
"Doesn't that seem as if they must have Mr. Webb hidden? Or, at least
know where he is hiding?"
"Looks a little that way, I admit. Then we're trailing the Webb
servants, you know. Well, Hollis seems all right, but Oscar's a lame
duck!"
"How?"
"He goes to the same place Miss Webb goes to, and he goes on the sly,
too. I'll get onto it, but I haven't been able to do so yet."
"Go on,--who else?"
"Then there's Mr. Courtney. I doubt there's anything wrong about him,
after all. I think he's tickled to death at Mr. Webb's disappearance for
he's fairly digging at his play, but I don't think he had anything to do
with the crime."
"Crime?"
"Sure. Abduction is a crime,--and I'm positive that Kimball Webb never
went away of his own initiative! Never!"
"I agree to that! What about Joe Allison?"
"Can't pin anything on him,--nor on Fenn Whiting."
"I didn't expect you would."
"Well, I'm having them both watched. Allison frequents second-hand
jewellery shops, that's the only queer thing about him."
"You're thinking of my diamond pendant."
"I am. Maybe Mr. Webb has that with him,--wherever he is, and then again
maybe he hasn't."
Elsie looked thoughtful. "If the Webb ladies know where he is, they know
where the diamonds are," she declared. "I can't help thinking there may
be a thief in the matter though. You see, he showed the diamonds at his
dinner party,--oh, I don't mean his guests,--but, maybe the waiters,--"
"I've thrashed that all out,--and there's small chance of burglary. If
anybody had wanted to steal that valuable pendant, he wouldn't have
attempted to get away with the man at the same time! And, if anybody
wanted to abduct the man, the diamonds would have been a secondary
consideration. To be sure the abductor might have stolen them,--just
because they were handy by,--but in that case, they won't be on the
market for a long time, and then, not here."
"Then how do you mix Joe Allison with it all?"
"I don't know. But he's such a good one to suspect." Coley grinned, and
tossed his brown mane back like a war horse, prancing. "You see, if he
can't get the fortune, it's a next best thing to get that big diamond
haul. I'm told it was a pretty high-priced gewgaw."
"Oh, it was. And the Webb ladies were mad as mad that Kimball bought it
for me."
"That's not enough to stamp them as burglars,--but their disapproval of
the match is quite enough to lay them open to suspicion as to the
disappearance. And the necklace would be missing in either case."
"Haven't you done anything toward finding out how Kim got out of the
locked room?"
"Not a thing. If the Webb ladies made up that yarn, there's no use
worrying over it. And if they didn't, I'll know soon that they didn't."
"How?"
"By finding out where their secret errands take them to."