The Come Back Part 48

"Oh, wait a minute,--do! Who rescued you? Why haven't you----"

"Lumbermen,--camp, miles from any sort of a lemon. Couldn't get into communication. Fiercest winter ever known,--everything cut off from everything else. Came home the minute I could,--and,--oh, thunder! how I want to know things! Tell me heaps, do! And who are you, anyway?"

"Heavens, what a tale! Yes, I'll tell you everything, but what shall I fly at first? And--oh, I can't stand the responsibility of your secret!

I can't! Why are you keeping it secret? On account of your father?"

"Yes, that's the sole reason. How can I come forward,--the son who is supposed dead,--who is supposed to come back as a spook,--the son who has had a book written about him----"

"Oh, what a situation! And your father so wrapped up in the whole business,--so positive in his beliefs----"

"And that rascally medium!"

"And those wicked materializations!"

"And the fool Ouija Board!"

"And that letter from you to Julie--oh, I say!"

"And _I_ say! But, tell me, what can I do? Do you see it as I do? That I must go away again, disappear forever,--or----"

"Or break your father's heart,-- I mean,--oh, I don't know what I mean!

Mr. Peter, I think I'll lose my mind!"

"I've almost lost mine, puzzling over the thing. But I've put the kibosh on that Parlato!"

"Oh, that's why you were there! I got things all wrong, didn't I? And you came to your own home----"

"Only because of a terrible attack of homesickness. You see, I still have my latch key, and if you hadn't seen me, I should have merely had a good look around, and then silently steal away, without, however, stealing anything else!"

Zizi smiled at her accusation of his burglarious intent, and then sat musing.

"I can't grapple with it," she said, at last. "It's too big. I shall telegraph for Mr. Wise. He must come back at once and help us."

"Now, look here, Miss Zizi, I'm not lying down on this job myself. I'm not asking you to carry my burdens or fight my battles. I am very much able to hoe my own row,--only I fear it's going to be a hard one. I'm going to depend on you for help, if I may, but I'll take the helm; Peter Boots leads, he doesn't follow."

Zizi gazed at him, her eyes moist with emotional admiration. This man, this splendid, fine man,--to efface himself to save his father's reputation,--it was too bad! She couldn't stand it.

"Now, wait," she began; "wouldn't your father,--your mother,--rather have you back with them in the flesh,--than to have their pride spared?"

"Answer that yourself," he returned. "I admit that if that question were put to them, they would doubtless say yes. But that's not the thing. The point is, they're reconciled to my loss, happy in the experiences they're having,--delusions though they are,--and contented, even exultant, in things as they are. Why disturb that happiness, for my selfish reasons? Why not leave them to their Fools' Paradise,--for that's what it is,--and not take the chance of what might easily be a distressing disillusion?"

"It would indeed be that," Zizi spoke gravely; "I know it would. But what will you do?"

"Go 'way off somewhere,--start fresh,--make a new name and fame for myself and forget----"

"Sacrifice your own ident.i.ty to your father's reputation?"

"Exactly that,--and, simply, it is my duty."

"And Carlotta Harper?"

Peter jumped.

"Tell me about Carly," he said, speaking thickly. "Is she engaged to Shelby?"

"No, she isn't!"

"I heard she was."

"Probably he hinted it, and the report started. He's eternally after her, but, to my certain knowledge she hasn't yet said yes."

"Oh, my G.o.d! Dear little Carly! What can I do?"

"She would go with you,--into a new life----"

"No; don't be absurd! This secret must be kept inviolably. Nor could I marry her under an a.s.sumed name, even if she were willing. Also, she may have forgotten me."

"No, she has not. Oh, Mr. Peter, you must come home."

"I can't. But tell me more,--tell me of mother, of Julie,--why, I sent a reporter to the house just to get a line on home life,--on present conditions,--oh, little girl, you don't know what I suffered; it's all so foolish,--so absurd,--the spook stuff, I mean,--yet, as I've learned, it's the very breath of life to my Dad."

"It is; but, look at the thing from another angle. Couldn't you help unravel the Blair mystery. Here's Mr. Thorpe held for a crime I don't think he committed; here's Julie crying her eyes out because of it----"

"Julie! She and Thorpe!"

"Yes, didn't you know that?"

"No; are they engaged?"

"In a way. If Thorpe should be freed Mr. Crane will give his consent. If Thorpe is convicted----"

"He shan't be convicted! He never killed Blair! I'll find out who killed Blair, and then I'll go away after that. I'll help Julie,--why, Thorpe wouldn't kill Gilbert, why should he?"

"You've read the case?"

"Yes, and thought how little evidence there was against Thorpe. But, I'm ashamed to say, my own affairs rather blotted the matter out. But if Julie's concerned, that's another matter. I'll free Thorpe,--and I can do it, too!"

"Then it's most certainly your duty, for many reasons. Look here, Mr.

Peter, don't let your ideas of duty get over-sentimental regarding your father."

"Oh, I don't!" Peter waxed impatient. "But I've mulled over the thing to the very end, and I know, I _know_ father would be happier left to his delusions. Yes, and mother, too. You see, I've read the book, and knowing Dad as I do, I read between the lines, and I see how it would be like stabbing his heart and draining his life blood to stultify that book. No, Zizi, don't tempt me,--indeed, you can't."

"Well, then, come back to the murder case. Have you any suspect other than Thorpe?"

"Why, sometimes, I think I have. But it's a serious thing to accuse, without evidence. Now, I think I can get evidence, but mainly from Madame Parlato. You see, she has been bribed by a powerful influence,--she is absolutely under orders from some one, and it is because of that she is so frightened for fear of exposure. I think in the ordinary _seance_ with my father, where my spirit--ugh!--appears and talks guff and rubbish, the medium is more fool than knave. But when the spirit gives information concerning the murderer,--and wrong information,--it's criminal work itself, and ought to be shown up."

"Showing up the medium would expose the falsity of your father's book, even without your reappearance."

"I've thought of that, but there's duty there, too. If I can free Mac Thorpe from unjust accusations, and incidentally, I'm thinking of Julie,--it's in all ways my duty to do so,--even if----"