Further Adventures of Quincy Adams Sawyer and Mason Corner Folks Part 48

"My client was propped up in bed, a pen placed in his hand, while the doc.u.ment rested on a large book which Jack held.

"The son-in-law began the oratory. 'I protest,' he screamed. 'This sacrilege, this injustice shall not be done with my consent.' What was it you said to him, Jack?"

"I told him unless he stopped talking in such an excited manner, and made less noise, it would have a very prejudicial effect upon my patient's health.

"The son-in-law then denounced Mrs. Bliss as an adventuress, and that she had no legal claim upon his father-in-law. His loud voice and violent gestures were too much for the invalid. The pen dropped from his nerveless fingers and he fell back exhausted. I think you had better take it up now, Ned."

"All right. You gave me a chance to rest my voice. Yes, thank you," as Tom pa.s.sed him a gla.s.s of water.

Ned resumed, "The door was opened and Mrs. Bliss looked in. 'Has he signed?' she asked.

"'No, he hasn't,' yelled the son-in-law, 'and while I live he never shall' Now you come in again, Jack."

"'Ladies and gentlemen.' said I, 'this excitement must stop. As medical adviser I order you all to leave the room.' They objected, but I told them if they didn't, I should resign charge of the case and refuse to give a death certificate unless there was an inquest. That frightened them, and they all went out, the son-in-law escorting Mrs. Bliss."

"We propped up the patient again, and I gave him some brandy. He said, 'I must sign.' He took the pen and made a ragged, disjointed capital 'T.'

"The pen dropped from his hand and he fell back upon the pillow. Ned put the unsigned will in his pocket. I found that the end was very near and I told Ned to call the family. Now, it's your turn, Ned."

"I told the family they had better go to their father's room at once.

Mrs. Bliss arose with the intention of following them but I told her she was not one of the family; that she could remain with me as my services were no longer needed. She turned to me and asked: 'Was it signed?' I shook my head. Without a word she sank upon the nearest chair and buried her face in her arms.

"I stood irresolute. The spectacle of this silent woman, speechless because she was to be deprived of what was justly due her, was a situation with which I did not know how to deal. I was saved the necessity of saying or doing anything by the sudden entrance of Jack who cried: 'Ned, it's all over; he's dead.'"

"Now comes the wonderful, inexplainable, part of the story. There was a single gas-burner alight in the room. It was turned down low; faces were discernible, but the room was only half lighted. Hearing a movement, Jack and I turned towards Mrs. Bliss. She had lifted her head from the table and was gazing directly at us. Her eyes were open, but they had a gla.s.sy look. Then it seemed as though the room was gradually becoming darker and darker, until the darkness became intense.

"My first thought was that Mrs. Bliss had put out the gas. Before I had time to question her, Jack and I caught sight of a white spot that was approaching us from the corner of the room nearest the doorway which led into the hallway. This light, which was no larger than a man's hand at first, increased in size and intensity until it covered a s.p.a.ce at least two feet wide and six feet high. I must admit that my hair was inclined to stand on end."

"And mine too," exclaimed Jack.

"Suddenly," said Ned, "the light, which was nebulous, began to fall away in places and a.s.sume a shape like the form of a man. Then the portion where a man's head ought to be, a.s.sumed the appearance of one. Jack and I clasped hands and retreated to the farther corner of the room. This act on our part was purely voluntary. If I had possessed a Remington rifle, six Colt's revolvers, and a dynamite bomb, I should have backed out just the same.

"We could not remove our eyes from the glittering, moving, thing; and now a most surprising change took place. The light seemed to leave the figure, so that it was not visible as a light, and yet it filled the room with a radiant glow.

"Who was that who stood before us? Could we believe our eyes? Were they playing us a trick? Were we the victims of a too active imagination? No, there could be no mistake. The form that stood before us was that of the man who lay dead in the next room.

"Turning towards us, from the form came the words distinctly spoken--'It must be signed!' The figure pointed to the table near which Mrs. Bliss still sat in an apparently unconscious state. I took the will from my pocket, opened it, advanced to the table, and laid it thereon. The figure reached out its right hand and beckoned. The thought came to me that he wanted a pen. There was none in the room. Jack divined the situation as quickly as I did and took his stylographic pen from his visiting book, fitted it for use, and laid it on the table beside the will. The form advanced, took up the pen, joined a small letter to the capital 'T' already written, and finished out the name in full.

"The form then laid the pen upon the table and pointed to the places set apart for witnesses. I wrote my name, Edward Everett Colbert, and Jack put his,--John Loring Bannister, under mine."

"Did the form sit down?" asked Quincy.

"No. The only chair near the table was the one in which Mrs. Bliss sat.

I could not resist the inclination to whisper in Jack's ear: 'What do you think of that?' We both turned with the intention of taking another look at 'That,' but it had disappeared and the gas was burning at about half-light.

"Mrs. Bliss arose from her seat with a pleasant smile on her face. 'You said that he had signed it--I understood you to say so, did I not?'

I said nothing, but drew the will from my pocket and pointed to the signatures. Then Jack said it was his duty to see the sorrowing family and for me to escort Mrs. Bliss to a car.

"Jack and I took dinner together in a private room at Young's the next day. We decided that it was my duty to present the will for probate.

Although it is presumed by the statutes of this Commonwealth that a will is signed by a living man, I was unable to find anything in said statutes to prevent a dead man, if he were so disposed and able, or enabled, doing so."

"Of course the will was presented for probate," said Quincy.

"It was," replied Ned, "and despite the energetic efforts of the avaricious son-in-law, was admitted. His lawyer brought up the point that the will should have had three witnesses, but I showed him the note, told him Mrs. Bliss's story, and declared that I would fight the case up to the Supreme Court if necessary.

"There was no doubt in the mind of the registrar as to the authenticity of the will for was it not duly signed and witnessed by Dr. Bannister, a physician of the highest repute, and Lawyer Colbert, a bright and s.h.i.+ning light of the legal profession?"

"Your story taxes my credulity," said Quincy, "but I will not allow it to break our friends.h.i.+p. Tom, kindly ring for that supper to be sent up." He looked at his watch. "Doctor, you've time to spare. 'Tis only nine-thirty."

CHAPTER x.x.xI

THE GREAT ISBURN RUBY

Mr. Irving Isburn, the proprietor of the great detective bureau was over seventy years of age, and, although he still had a general supervision over the business, and was in his office for a short time anyway, nearly every day, he was leaving the details more and more to his subordinates.

From the very beginning Mary Dana had made wonderful improvement in her detective work, and the results of her last case, on which she had been kept in the West for several months, were so satisfactory that she was given practically the entire management of the Bureau.

One day, shortly after her return from the West, Mr. Isburn called her into his private office. He took great interest in electrical inventions, and had one in his office of a decidedly novel design. Back of his office chair, standing against the wall, just behind the door that led into the hallway, was a mahogany bookcase fully seven feet in height. Upon the top were several valuable statuettes, but the most noticeable object was a rosy-cheeked apple. It was not really an apple--only an imitation of one--made of bra.s.s. Using the stem as a handle, the upper portion of the apple could be lifted off, forming a cover. The apple was fastened firmly to the top of the bookcase.

While talking over the case in hand with her employer, Miss Dana chanced to fix her eyes upon the bra.s.s apple.

"Mr. Isburn, why do you keep that peculiar ornament on the top of your bookcase?"

"Oh, you mean the apple. It contains something that is very valuable.

The method of opening it is a secret, but as somebody may succeed in doing so some day I will show you its contents, for otherwise I might be unable to prove that it contained anything."

He opened a secret drawer in his desk, inserted his forefinger and, apparently, pressed a b.u.t.ton. The doors of the bookcase flew open as if by magic, and, at the same time, a bell inside the bookcase rang sharply. Miss Dana watched each motion of her employer intently.

"That is all done by electricity," said he. "But it does something else--opens the apple."

He reached up and lifted the cover. Then he removed something from the apple and placed it in Miss Dana's hand.

"Oh, how lovely!" she exclaimed.

It was a ring made of the finest gold and containing an immense ruby.

"That," said her employer, "I call the Isburn Ruby. It belonged to my mother, and it is precious to me, both on account of its great intrinsic value, and as an heirloom."

He dropped it into the bra.s.s apple, replaced the cover, and shut the doors of the bookcase.

"That cover can only be removed when the bookcase doors are open; they can only be opened by touching the b.u.t.ton in the secret drawer in my desk, and, even then, a notice of the opening is given by the electric bell. I think the ruby is well protected, but if anybody steals it I shall call upon you to find the thief."

Miss Dana said, laughingly, that she feared she would never have a chance to distinguish herself in that direction.

About a fortnight later, Mr. Isburn sat at his desk one morning opening his mail. He was so preoccupied with an interesting letter containing an account of the very mysterious disappearance of a young woman, that he was not aware, for some time, of the presence of a person who stood beside his desk.