Miss Maitland Private Secretary Part 23

"Why do you say that?"

In the darkness the detective permitted himself a sidelong glance of scorn.

"You don't leave the door unlocked in that sort of place unless you're done with it. They've got all they wanted out of it and quit."

"Abandoned it?"

"That's right-made a neat, quiet get-away. They didn't say they were going, didn't give up the key-it was on the inside of the door. Just slid out and vanished."

"Some one was there yesterday."

"Um," O'Malley's voice showed a pondering concentration of thought.

"Some one was lying on the bed reading; waiting or pa.s.sing time."

"They couldn't have been there to-day-before your men were on the job?"

O'Malley drew himself to the edge of the seat, his chest inflated with a sudden breath:

"Why couldn't they? Why couldn't _that_ have been the rendezvous? Why couldn't she have lost the child down here on Gayle Street instead of opposite Justin's? Price was there beforehand: up she comes, tips him off that the taxi's in the street, sees him leave and goes herself, across to Fifth Avenue where she picks up a cab. It's safer than the other way-no cops round, janitor in the bas.e.m.e.nt, if she's seen nothing to be remarked-a lady known to have a room on the top floor." He brought his fist down on his knee. "That's what they did and it explains what's been puzzling me."

"What?"

"There was no dust on the top of the bureau; it had been wiped off to-day. There was no dust on that veil; it hadn't been there since yesterday. A woman fixed herself at that gla.s.s not so long ago. Price had a date with her to deliver the child and he was lying on the bed reading while he waited. When he heard her he threw down the book, got the good word and lit out. After he'd gone she took off her veil-what for? To get her face up to show to Mrs. Price-whiten it, make it look right for the news she was bringing. When she left she was made up for the part she was to play. And I take my hat off to her, for she played it like a star."

CHAPTER XIX-MOLLY'S STORY

It was nearly seven when we got back to Gra.s.slands. We alighted as silent as we started, and I was following Miss Maitland into the hall, Ferguson behind me, when she turned in the doorway and spoke. She had orders that the servants must know nothing; she was to tell them that the family would stay in town for a few days, and for me to be careful what I said before them. Then, before I could answer, she glanced at Ferguson and said good-by, her eyes just touching him for a moment and pa.s.sing, cold and weary, back to me. She'd wish me good-night, she was going to her room and not coming down again-no, thanks, she'd take no dinner, she was very tired. She didn't need to say that. If I ever saw a person dead beat and at the end of her string she was it.

Ferguson stood looking after her. I think for the moment he forgot me, or maybe he wasn't conscious of what his face showed. Some way or other I didn't like to look at him; it was as if I was spying on something I had no right to see. So I turned away and dropped into one of the balcony chairs, sunk down against the back and feeling limp as a rag.

Presently came his step and he was in front of me, his head bent down with the hair hanging loose on his forehead, and his eyes like they were hooks that would pull the words out of me:

"What happened up there at the Whitneys?"

"Mr. Ferguson," I answered solemn, "I've told you more than I ought already. Is it the right thing for me to go on doing wrong?"

"Yes," he says, sharp and decided, "it's exactly the right thing. Keep on doing it and we'll get somewhere."

I set my lips tight and looked past him at the lawn. He waited a minute then said:

"I thought you agreed to trust me."

"There's a good deal more to it now than there was then."

"All the more reason for telling me. Of course I can get all I want from Mrs. Janney or either of the Whitneys; they don't let ladylike scruples stand in the way. But that means a trip to town and I'm not ready to take it."

It was surprising how that young man could make you feel like a worm who had a conscience in place of common sense.

"Have I got your word, sworn to on the Bible, if we had one here, not to give her a hint of it?"

"Good Lord!" he groaned. "Don't talk like the ingenue in a melodrama.

Let me see why the Whitneys think so much of you. You must have _some_ intelligence-give me a sample of it."

That settled it.

"Take a seat," I said. "You make me nervous staring at me like the lion in the menagerie at the fat child."

He sat down and I told him-the whole business, what she had said, what they had thought-everything. When I'd finished he rose up and, with his hands burrowed deep in his pockets, began pacing up and down the balcony. I didn't give a peep, watching him cautious from under my eyelids.

After a bit he said in a low voice:

"Preposterous-crazy! She had no more to do with it than you have."

"They think different."

"I've gathered that. And Price had nothing to do with it either."

It was all very well for him to stand by her, but to sweep Price off the map! I couldn't sit still and let him rave on.

"Price hadn't? Take another guess. Price is the mainspring of it."

"I'll leave guessing to you-it's your business, and you appear to do it very well."

"Say, drop me altogether. I'm only a paid servant. But you'll have to admit that Mr. Whitney and his son count pretty big in their line."

"Very big, Miss Rogers. But they've made a mistake this time-or possibly been misled. The Janneys have never been fair to Price. They're prejudiced and they've branded the prejudice on. He isn't an angel, neither is he a rascal. He didn't take his child, he never thought of it, he couldn't do it."

"Then who did?"

"That's what I want to find out."

"Jerusalem!" I said, sitting up, feeling like the peaceful scene around me was suddenly dark and strange. "You don't think she's _really_ been kidnaped?"

"I can't think anything else." He stopped in front of me, looking at me hard and stern. "I'd like to find another solution but I'm unable to."

"But, gee-whizz!" I stared at him, all worried and mixed. "You can't get away from the facts. They're all there-there's hardly a break."

"I don't admit that. This man and woman have got characters and records that haven't been considered-but even if you had a hole-proof case against them I wouldn't believe it."

"Oh, pshaw!" I said, simmering down, "you just believe what you want to.

I've seen people like that before."

"I daresay you have, I'm not a unique specimen in the human family. But I'll tell you what I am just at this juncture-the only one among you that's right." He drew back and gave a vengeful wag of his head at me.

"You've all gone off at half-c.o.c.k-doing your best to ruin a man who's harmless and a girl who's-who's-" he stopped, and wheeled away from me.

"Tch-it makes me sick! Hate and anger and jealousy-that's what's at the bottom of it. I can't talk about it any longer-it's too beastly.