'SQUIRE BROOKHOUSE MAKES A CALL.
The first train due from the city, by which, supposing 'Squire
Brookhouse's message to be promptly received, and his commission
promptly executed, it would be possible for the looked-for detectives to
arrive, would be due at midnight. It was a fast, through express, and
arriving so late, when the busy village gossips were, or should be,
peacefully sleeping, it seemed to us quite probable that they would come
openly by that train.
Of course we expected them to assume disguise, or to have some plausible
business in the town, quite foreign to their real errand thither; but,
equally, of course we expected to be able to penetrate any disguise that
might be assumed by parties known to us, or to see beneath any business
subterfuge adopted by strangers.
Until midnight then we had only to wait, and employ our time profitably,
if we could, which seemed hardly probable.
I remained in my room for the remainder of the morning, and Carnes went
out among the gossipers, in search of any scrap that he might seize upon
and manipulate into a thing of meaning.
At the dinner table I met Dr. Bethel. He was his usual calm, courteous
self, seeming in no wise ruffled or discomposed by the events of the
previous day.
We chatted together over our dinner, and together left the table. In the
hall the doctor turned to face me, saying:
"If you have nothing better to occupy your time, come down to my house
with me. I shall enjoy your company."
I could scarcely have found a way of passing the afternoon more to my
taste, just then, and I accepted his invitation promptly.
Outside the doctor's dwelling, quiet and order reigned, thanks to Jim
Long's officious friendliness, but within was still the confusion of
yesterday; Jim, seemingly, having exhausted himself in the hanging of
the doctor's front door.
Bethel looked about the disordered rooms, and laughed the laugh of the
philosopher.
"After all, a man can not be thoroughly angry at the doings of a mob,"
he said, stooping to gather up some scattered papers. "It's like
scattering shot; the charge loses its force; there is no center to turn
upon. I was in a rage yesterday, but it was rather with the author of
the mischief credited to me, than these fanatical would-be avengers, and
then--after due reflection--it was quite natural that these village
simpletons should suspect me, was it not?"
"Candidly, yes," I replied; "and that only proves the cunning of the
enemy who planned this business for your injury."
Bethel, who was stooping to restore a chair to its proper position,
lifted his head to favor me with one sharp glance. Then he brought the
chair up with a jerk; and, taking another with the unoccupied hand,
said:
"This is hardly a picture of comfort. Fortunately, there is a condensed
lawn and excellent shade outside. Let's smoke a cigar under the trees,
and discuss this matter comfortably."
In another moment we were sitting cosily, _vis-a-vis_, on the tiny grass
plot, styled by the doctor a "condensed lawn," with a huge clump of
lilacs at our backs, and the quivering leaves of a young maple above our
heads.
The doctor produced some excellent cigars, which we lighted, and smoked
for a time in silence. Then he said:
"I scarcely flatter myself that I have seen the end of this business. I
quite expected the raid of yesterday to be followed by a formal
accusation and a warrant to-day, in which case--"
"In which case," I interrupted, "I will be responsible for your future
good behavior, and go your bail."
"Thank you," he said, quite seriously. "I appreciate your championship,
but confess it surprises me. Why have you voted me guiltless, in
opposition to the expressed opinions of two-thirds of Trafton?"
"Perhaps," I replied, "it is because I am not a Traftonite, and am
therefore without prejudice. To be perfectly frank, I _did_ suppose you
to be implicated in the business when I came here yesterday; when I
witnessed your surprise, and heard your denial, I wavered; when I saw
the buried clothing, I doubted; when the body was discovered, I was
convinced that a less clever head and more bungling hand than yours, had
planned and executed the resurrection; it was a blunder which I could
not credit you with making. If I had a doubt, Barnard's testimony would
have laid it."
"Thank you," said Bethel, with real warmth. "But----I might have had
confederates."
"No. Doctor Barnard's statement as to the manner of the child's death
deprives you of a motive for the deed; then the too-easily found tools,
and the stripped-off clothing could hardly be work of your planning or
ordering. Depend upon it, when Trafton has done a little calm thinking,
it will see this matter as I see it."
"Possibly," with a shade of skepticism in his voice. "At least, when I
have unearthed these plotters against me, they will see the matter as it
is, and that day I intend to bring to pass."
The fire was nearly extinct on the tip of his cigar, he replaced it in
his mouth and seemingly only intent upon rekindling the spark; this
done, he smoked in silence a moment and then said:
"As to the author of the mischief, or his motive, I am utterly at a
loss. I have given up trying to think out the mystery. I shall call in
the help of the best detective I can find, and see what he makes of the
matter."
Gracious heavens! here was another lion coming down upon myself and my
luckless partner! Trafton was about to be inundated with detectives. My
brain worked hard and fast. Something must be done, and that speedily,
or Carnes and I must retreat mutely, ingloriously.
While I smoked in a seemingly careless reverie, I was weighing the
_pros_ and _cons_ of a somewhat uncertain venture. Should I let this
third detective come and risk a collision, or should I make a clean
breast of it, avow my identity, explain the motive of my sojourn in
Trafton, and ask Bethel to trust his case to Carnes and myself? Almost
resolved upon this latter course, I began to feel my way.
"A good detective ought to sift the matter, I should think," I said. "I
suppose you have your man in view?"
"Candidly, no," he replied, with a dubious shake of the head. "I'm
afraid I am not well posted as regards the police, never expecting to
have much use for the gentry. I must go to the city and hunt up the
right man."
I drew a breath of relief.
"That will consume some valuable time," I said, musingly.
"Yes, a day to go; another, perhaps, before I find my man. I shall go
in person, because I fancy that I shall be able to give something like a
correct guess as to the man's ability, if I can have a square look at
his face."
I blew a cloud of smoke before my own face to conceal a smile.
"You are a physiognomist, then?"
"Not a radical one; but I believe there is much to be learned by the
careful study of the human countenance."
"Give me a test of your ability," I said, jestingly, and drawing my
chair nearer to him. "Have I the material in me for a passable
detective?"
"My dear sir," he replied, gravely, "if I had not given you credit for
some shrewdness, I should hardly have made you, even in a slight degree,
my confidante; if you were a detective I think you might be expected to
succeed."
"Thanks, doctor; being what I am I can, perhaps, give you the key to
this mystery."
"You?"
"Yes, I," tossing away my cigar and now fully resolved to confide in the
doctor. "I think I have stumbled upon the clue you require. I will tell
you how."
There was a sharp click at the gate; I closed my lips hurriedly, and we
both turned to look.
'Squire Brookhouse, if possible a shade more solemn of countenance than
usual, was entering the doctor's door-yard.
My host arose instantly to receive, but did not advance to meet, his
latest guest.
'Squire Brookhouse accepted the chair proffered him, having first given
me a nod of recognition, and, while Bethel entered the house for another
chair, sat stiffly, letting his small, restless black eyes rove about,
taking in his surroundings with quick, furtive glances, and I fancied
that he felt a trifle annoyed at my presence.
"You seem quite serene here, in spite of yesterday's fracas," he said to
me, in what he no doubt intended for the ordinary affable conversational
tone.
He possessed a naturally harsh, rasping voice, not loud, but, none the
less, not pleasant to the ear, and this, coupled with his staccato
manner of jerking out the beginnings of his sentences, and biting off
the ends of them, would have given, even to gentle words, the sound of
severity.
While I replied, I was inwardly wondering what had called out this
unusual visit, for I saw at once, by the look on Bethel's face, that it
was unusual, and, just then, a trifle unwelcome.
We were not left long in the dark. Scarcely had the doctor rejoined us
and been seated before the 'squire gave us an insight into the nature of
his business.
"I am sorry our people gave you so much trouble yesterday, doctor," he
began, in his stiff staccato. "Their conduct was as discreditable to the
town as it was uncomplimentary to you."
"One should always take into consideration the character of the
elements that assails him," replied Bethel, coolly. "I was comforted to
know that my assailants of yesterday were notably of the _canaille_ of
the town; the majority, of the rough, vulgar excitables, who, while not
being, or meaning to be, absolutely vicious, are, because of their
inherent ignorance, easily played upon and easily led, especially toward
mischief. The leaders most certainly were not of the _lower_ classes,
but of the _lowest_. On the whole, I have experienced no serious
discomfort, 'Squire Brookhouse, nor do I anticipate any lasting injury
to my practice by this attempt to shake the public faith in me."
This reply surprised me somewhat, and I saw that the 'squire was, for
the moment, nonplussed. He sat quite silent, biting his thin under lip,
and with his restless eyes seemed trying to pierce to the doctor's
innermost thought.
The silence became to me almost oppressive before he said, shifting his
position so as to bring me more prominently within his range of vision:
"I hope you are right; I suppose you are. Arch displeased me very much
by not coming to your aid; he might, perhaps, have had some influence
upon a portion of the mob. I regret to learn that one or two of my men
were among them. I believe Arch tried to argue against the movement
before they came down upon you; he came home thoroughly disgusted and
angry. For myself, I was too much indisposed to venture out yesterday."
He drew himself a trifle more erect; this long speech seeming to be
something well off his mind.
"I was well supported, I assure you," replied Bethel, courteously. "But
I appreciate your interest in my welfare. Your influence in Trafton is
considerable, I know."
"Hardly that; hardly that, sir. However, such as it is, it is yours, if
you need it. My call was merely to ask if you anticipated any further
trouble, or if I could serve you in any way, in case you desired to make
an investigation."
Bethel hesitated a moment, seemingly at a loss for a reply.
In that moment, while the 'squire's sharp eyes were fixed upon him, I
lifted my hand, removed my cigar from my mouth with a careless gesture,
and, catching the doctor's eye, laid a finger on my lip. In another
instant I was puffing away at my weed, and the keen, quick eyes of
'Squire Brookhouse were boring me clean through.
"Thank you," said Bethel, after this pause, and without again glancing
at me. "You are very good."
"We seem to be especially honored by rogues of various sorts," went on
the 'squire. "Of course you have heard of last night's work, and of my
loss."
The doctor bowed his head.
"This thing is becoming intolerable," went on the usually silent man,
"and I intend to make a stanch fight. If it's in the power of the
detectives, I mean to have my horses back."
"You will bestow a blessing upon the community if you succeed in
capturing the thieves," said Bethel.
Then the 'squire turned toward me, saying:
"We are a victimized community, sir. I suppose you have found that out?"
[Illustration: "We are a victimized community, sir. I suppose you have
found that out?"--page 161.]
"Judging from the events of yesterday and last night, I should think
so," I replied, with an air of indifferent interest. "From the
conversation I heard at the hotel to-day, I infer that this thieving
business is no new thing."
"No new thing, sir."
I had no desire to participate in the conversation, so made no further
comment, and the 'squire turned again to Bethel.
"I suppose you intend to investigate this matter?"
Bethel looked up to the maple, and down at the grass.
"I have scarcely decided," he replied, slowly. "I have hardly had time
to consider."
"Ah! I supposed, from what I heard in the town, that you had made a
decided stand."
"So far as this, I have," replied Bethel, gravely. "I am determined not
to let these underminers succeed in their purpose."
"Then you have fathomed their purpose?"
"I suppose it is to drive me from Trafton?"
"You intend to remain?"
"Most assuredly. I shall reside and practice in Trafton so long as I
have one patient left who has faith in me."
"That would be an unprofitable game--financially."
"I think not, in the end."
Again the 'squire seemed at a loss for words.
I hugged myself with delight. The dialogue pleased me.
"I like your spirit," he said, at length. "I should also like to see
this matter cleared up." He rose slowly, pulling his hat low down over
his cavernous eyes. "I have sent for detectives," he said, slightly
lowering his tone. "Of course I wish their identity and whereabouts to
remain a secret among us. If you desire to investigate and wish any
information or advice from them, or if I can aid you _in any way_, don't
hesitate to let me know."
Dr. Bethel thanked him warmly, assuring him that if he had need of a
friend he would not forget his very generously proffered service, and,
with his solemn face almost funereal in its expression, 'Squire
Brookhouse bowed to me, and, this time escorted by Bethel, walked slowly
toward the gate.
A carriage came swiftly down the road from the direction of the village.
It halted just as they had reached the gate.
I saw a pale face look out, and then 'Squire Brookhouse approached and
listened to something said by this pale-faced occupant. Meantime Bethel,
without waiting for further words with 'Squire Brookhouse, came back to
his seat under the trees.
In a moment the carriage moved on, going rapidly as before, and the
'squire came back through the little gate and approached the doctor,
wearing now upon his face a look of unmistakable sourness.
"Doctor," he said, in his sharpest staccato, "my youngest scapegrace has
met with an accident, and is going home with a crippled leg. I don't
know how bad the injury is, but you had better come at once; he seems in
great distress."
The doctor turned to me with a hesitating movement which I readily
understood. He was loth to leave our interrupted conversation unfinished
for an indefinite time.
I arose at once.
"Don't let my presence interfere with your duties," I said. "You and I
can finish our smoke to-morrow, doctor."
He shot me a glance which assured me that he comprehended my meaning.
Five minutes later, Dr. Bethel and 'Squire Brookhouse were going up the
hill toward the house of the latter, while I, still smoking, sauntered
in the opposite direction, lazily, as beseemed an idle man.
I felt very well satisfied just then, and was rather glad that my
disclosure to the doctor had been interrupted. A new thought had lodged
in my brain, and I wished to consult Carnes.
Just at sunset, while I sat on the piazza of the hotel, making a
pretence of reading the _Trafton Weekly News_, I saw Charlie Harris, the
operator, coming down the street with a yellow envelope in his hand.
He came up the steps of the hotel, straight to me, and I noted a
mischievous smile on his face as he proffered the envelope, saying:
"I am glad to find you so easily. I should have felt it my duty to
ransack the town in order to deliver that."
I opened the telegram in silence, and read these words:
The widow B. is in town and anxious to see you. T. C.
Then I looked up into the face of young Harris, and smiled in my turn.
"Harris," I said, "this is a very welcome piece of news, and I am much
obliged to you."
"I knew you would be," laughed the jolly fellow. "I love to serve the
ladies. And what shall I say in return?"
"Nothing, Harris," I responded. "I shall go by the first train; the
widow here referred to, is a particular friend of mine."
Harris elevated his eyebrows.
"In dead earnest, aren't you? Tell me--I'll never, never give you away,
is she pretty?"
"Pretty!" I retorted; "Harris, I've a mind to knock you down, for
applying such a weak word to _her_. She's _magnificent_."
"Whew," he exclaimed, "It's a bad case, then. When shall we see you
again in Trafton?"
"That depends upon the lady. I'll never leave the city while she desires
me to stay."
After a little more banter of this sort, Harris returned to his duties,
and I went up-stairs, well pleased with the manner in which he had
interpreted my Chief's telegram, and wondering not a little what had
brought the widow Ballou to the city.
Carnes and I had another long talk that night, while waiting the time
for the arrival of the city express.
I told him that I was called to the city in the interest of the case I
had abandoned after getting my wound, and that unless my continued
presence there was absolutely indispensable, I would return in three
days, at the farthest.
I gave him a detailed account of my visit to Bethel, with its attendant
circumstances.
"Bethel will hardly make a decided move in the matter for a day or two,
I think," I said, after we had discussed the propriety of taking the
doctor into our counsel. "I will write him a note which you shall
deliver, and the rest must wait."
I wrote as follows:
DR. CARL BETHEL,
_Dear Sir_--Am just in receipt of a telegram which calls me to
the city. I go by the early train, as there is a lady in the
case. Shall return in a few days, I trust, and then hope to
finish our interrupted conversation. I _think_ your success
will be more probable and speedy if you delay all action for
the present.
This is in confidence.
Yours fraternally, etc., etc.
"There," I said, folding the note, "That is making the truth tell a
falsehood." And I smiled as I pictured the "lady in the case," likely to
be conjured up by the imaginations of Harris and Dr. Bethel, and
contrasted her charms with the sharp features, work-hardened hands, and
matter-of-fact head, of Mrs. Ballou.
Just ten minutes before twelve o'clock Carnes and myself dropped
noiselessly out of our chamber window, leaving a dangling rope to
facilitate our return, and took our way to the depot to watch for the
expected experts.
Ten minutes later the great fiery eye of the iron horse shone upon us
from a distance, disappeared behind a curve, reappeared again, and came
beaming down to the little platform.
The train halted for just an instant, then swept on its way.
But no passengers were left upon the platform; our errand had been
fruitless; the detectives were still among the things to be looked for.
The next morning, before daybreak, I was _en route_ for the city.