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CHAPTER x.x.xI
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 a.s.sistant.
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!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed 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 gla.s.s, 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.