Geraldine Bonner

“ At the other end of the ten-mile limit Chapman Price in the black racer, was running up from the shore drive, with two satellites, one his own motor, one a hired Ford, strung out behind him.
Of a hot summer night at this hour the pike was alive with autos; returning holiday-makers, city dwellers taking a spin in the country to cool off, joy riders rioting by, belated business men speeding to the sea-side for the Sunday rest. They bore down on Ferguson like a procession of fleeing monsters with round, goblin eyes staring in affright. ”

“ No human being with a conscience and a heart—" she looked at Whitney—"and you have both—could want to make her pay more bitterly than she has. She is safe, under intelligent supervision. She can work, be useful, where her youth and strength and enthusiasm are needed. I did not trust you before, Mr. Whitney, but I do now and I know that my trust is not misplaced."
A murmur, a concerted sound of agreement, came from her listeners. Whitney, pushing his chair back from the desk, said gravely:
"You can rest assured, Miss Maitland, that the matter will die here with us to-day. ”

“ Janney said he would like to walk over to the wharf and have a talk with the police himself. Ferguson decided to go with him; there would be a lot of business to be gone through, an inquest with all its unpleasant detail.
As they rose to leave, Suzanne announced that she wanted to come too. She looked a wreck, in her hysterical jubilation forgetful of her rouge and powder; a worn little wraith of a woman whose journey to the heart of life had stripped her of all coquetry and beauty. ”

“ I cried and out of the tail of my eye I saw a taxi shoot round the corner from Fifth Avenue. Willitts drew away from me, shrunk together for a race. I saw it and I knew even now, with O'Malley plunging through the traffic, it might be too late. Embracing is not my strong suit, no man but my lawful husband ever felt my arms about him. But duty's a strong word with me and then my sporting blood was up. So with my teeth set, I just made a lunge at that crook and clasped him like an octopus.
I didn't know a man was so much stronger than a woman. ”

“ Janney seemed stunned, shrunk in his clothes like a turtle in its shell. It was not until the lawyer, alluding to the loss of the jewels, mentioned Miss Maitland's possible participation either as the actual thief or as an accomplice, that he displayed a suddenly vitalized interest. His body stretched forward, and his neck craned up from its collar gave him more than ever the appearance of a turtle reaching out of its shell, his voice coming with a stammering urgency:
"But—but—no one can be sure. We mustn't be too hasty. We can't condemn the girl without sufficient evidence. ”

“ First a strip of velvet lawn, then a terrace and balustraded walk, and beyond that the enameled brilliance of long gardens where flowers grew in masses, thick borders, and delicate spatterings, bright against the green. Back of the gardens were more lawns, shaven close and dappled with tree shadows, then woods—Mrs. Janney's far acres—on this fine morning all shimmering and astir with a light, salt-tinged breeze. Grasslands was on the northern side of Long Island, only half a mile from the Sound through the seclusion of its own woods. ”

“ My voice sounded queer as I spoke:
"He could have known, couldn't he, of that walk you and Miss Maitland took, that walk when you found the band?"
He had been looking, dreamy and indifferent, out into the darkness. Now he turned to me, a little surprised, as if he was wondering at my questions:
"I suppose so. He knew all my crowd up there; they're forever running back and forth from one place to the other. They know everything, and they're the greatest gossips and snobs in the country. I've no doubt he heard it talked threadbare—the boss walking home with Mrs. Janney's secretary. ”

“ The house behind them was empty of all other tenants, its open front door letting a long gush of light down the steps and across the pebbled path to the gate. It was a warm night, heavy and breathless, and Mr. Larkin, in his shirt sleeves, lolled comfortably, his chair tilted back, his feet on the railing. The place where he sat was shaded with vines, and he was discernible as a long, out-stretched bulk, detailless in the shadow. ”

“ Almost immediately the coupé turned to the left, and plunged into a by-way, black as a pocket, the woods' thick growth crowding on its edges.
The roadbed was good and the leading car accelerated its speed racing onward under the arching boughs. Ferguson, close on its heels, knew that the sounds of their going would be muffled by the enshrouding woodland, absorbed in its woven density. No chance either of meeting any one; the way was one of those forest trails, sought by the rich on their afternoon drives, but at night deserted by all but the birds and the squirrels. ”

“ Suzanne, clutching at the corner of the desk with a trembling hand, cried in her misery:
"Oh, Mr. Larkin, you don't think they'll hurt her. They wouldn't dare to hurt her?"
The detective's glance was kindly but grave:
"Mrs. Price, I'll speak frankly. I think your child is in the hands of a pretty desperate person or persons. But I have no apprehension that they'll do her any harm. They don't want to do that—it's too dangerous. What they might do if their plans fail is a thing we'll not consider—it'll only weaken your nerve. And that's what you've got to keep hold of. ”

“ A while passed that way and then I saw Ferguson going home, a long figure in white flannels striding across the lawn to the wood path. Then out from the kitchen come the servants, all togged up, six girls and Isaac, and away they go on their bikes to the beach. From what I've seen of the homes of the rich I'd rather be in the kitchen than the parlor—the help have it all over the quality for plain enjoyment. They went off bawling gayly, and presently Dixon appears, looking like a parson on his day off, all brisk and cheerful. ”

“ It was a very different Esther who sat in Wilbur Whitney's private office, facing those who had once been her accusers. She gave no evidence of rancor, greeted them with a frank friendliness, smiled with a radiance they set down to the rebound from long tension and strain. Suzanne, her jealous fires burned out, could acknowledge now that she was handsome; Mr. Janney wondered at her look of breeding. "A fine girl," old Whitney thought, as he studied her through his glasses, "spirited and high-mettled as a racer." ”

“ Mr. Janney hasted away and shut himself in the telephone closet, as the servants, marshaled by Dixon and Elspeth, entered in a scared group. They had been taking tea in their own dining room when Elspeth burst in with the direful news. Eight of them were old employees—had been years in Mrs. Janney's service. Hannah, the cook, had been with her nearly as long as Dixon; Isaac, the footman, was her nephew. Dixon's large, heavy-jowled face was stamped with aghast concern; the kitchen maid was in tears. ”

“ When they were through I got up, feeling sort of gone in the middle, and lit out for the stairs. I couldn't have kept away—Bébita disappeared! "Kidnapped!" I said to myself as I ran along the hall. "Kidnapped! that's what it is—it's only poor children that get lost."
On the stairs I met Mrs. Janney coming up on the run. It wasn't the speed that made her breath short; but she was on the job, the grand old Roman, with her mouth as straight as the slit in a post box and her face as hard as if it was cut out of granite. ”

“ Ferguson's glance ranged ahead, dazzled by the glare of advancing lamps that enlarged on his vision, grew to a blinding haze and swept by. He could see little, blackness and brightness alternating, the motors emerging as dim solidities, realized for a passing moment, then gone. Once a small car, cutting across his bows from a side road, made him slacken, but it slowed round showing the gnarled face of a farmer with a fat woman on the seat beside him and a bunch of children behind. ”

“ Right there, leaning against the magazine end, I'd seen a large, fat, sloppy-looking man, with a tired panama hat back from his forehead, and a masonic emblem on his watch chain.
O'Malley was a first class worker in his line, and his appearance was worth rubies. He'd a small-town, corner-grocery look that would have fooled any one unless they'd a scent for a sleuth like a dog for a bone. As I edged up near him, reaching out for a magazine, he cast a cold, disdainful glance at me like the rube that's wise to the dangers of the great city. ”

“ Janney felt sure his interest was diverted and sought to drive it into safer channels.
"Pretty fine cigar, eh?" he said. "This is the first of a new lot, just come."
Ferguson drew the band off and laid it beside his plate:
"Excellent. That's a good idea—keeping them in the safe. Do you always do it?"
"Yes, it's the only thing—much better than a humidor."
"I haven't got a safe or I'd try it. Did you have any there the night of the robbery?"
Mr. Janney felt that the gods had sought him out for a special vengeance and murmured drearily:
"I believe so—a few. Dixon knows." ”

“ An answer rose in a man's surly voice:
"What's that to you?"
"A good deal. I'm Ferguson of Council Oaks and I'm looking for the boat that fired on some one round here about an hour ago."
The voice replied, its tone changed to sudden conciliation:
"Oh, Mr. Ferguson; couldn't see who it was. We're what you're looking for—the police patrol. We have the launch here in tow."
"Have you got the man?"
"Yes, sir. He didn't answer our challenge and fired on us. We chased and gave it back to him—a running fight. One of us got him—he's dead."
"Go on to my wharf; I'll be there when you come." ”

“ Returning to his car, he jumped in. Its lurching start broke into a sudden flight, it rushed; Ferguson could hear the bounding of stones, the creaking and wrenching of its body as it hurtled down the road.
Ferguson saw him in silhouette, a large, humped body with bent head Silence settled, the deep, dreaming quiet of the woods. The young man tried to struggle, to writhe and work himself loose, but his bonds held fast, and he found himself choked for air, stifling and snorting over his gag. ”

“ Janney settled herself in the back seat, Suzanne, lifting shimmering skirts, prepared to follow, while Miss Maitland waited humbly to take what room was left among their assembled knees. She was close to Ferguson who was helping Suzanne in, and looking up at the sky murmured low to herself:
"What a glorious night!"
Ferguson heard her and dropped Suzanne's arm.
"Isn't it? Too good to waste. Does any one want to walk back to Grasslands?" ”

“ Fifteen minutes later, her face hidden by a chiffon veil, her rumpled smartness covered with a silk motor coat, she was knocking at his door.
Mr. Larkin's office was cool and shady, the blinds half lowered to keep out the glare of the afternoon sun. In the midst of its airy neatness, surrounded by an imposing array of desks, card cabinets, typewriters and files, Mr. Larkin was waiting alone for his important client. ”

“ 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 basement, if she's seen nothing to be remarked—a lady known to have a room on the top floor." ”

“ Larkin stirred in a slow, large way and said:
"Such a robbery is a pretty big thing for a girl like that to attempt. She must know—any one would—that jewels like Mrs. Janney's are hard to dispose of without detection."
Suzanne shrugged, her tone showing an edge of irritation:
"That may be the case, I suppose it is. But couldn't she have been employed by some one—aren't there gangs who put people on the spot to rob for them?"
"Certainly there are. And that would be the most plausible explanation. Not necessarily a gang, however, an individual might be behind her. ”

“ Elspeth appeared on the stairs and came running down, Mrs. Janney's orders delivered like pistol shots upon her advance:
"I've been robbed. The safe's been opened and all the jewels are gone. Go and call the servants, every one of them. Tell them to come here at once."
Elspeth knew enough to make no reply, and, with a terrified face, scudded past her mistress to the kitchen. Mrs. Janney, her attention attracted by sounds of distracted amazement from her husband, mobilized him:
"Go and get Miss Maitland. We'll have to send for detectives. She can do it—she doesn't lose her head." ”

“ CHAPTER XVI—MOLLY'S STORY That Friday—gee, shall I ever forget it!—opening so quiet and natural and suddenly bang, in the middle of it, the sort of thing you read in the yellow press.
It was a holiday for me and I was sitting in the upper hall alcove making a blouse and handy to the extension 'phone. Now and then it would ring and I'd pull it over with a weary sigh and hear a female voice full of cultivation and airs ask if Mrs. Janney'd take a hand at bridge, or a male one want to know what Mr. Janney thought about eighteen holes at golf. ”

“ Janney held her in the hollow of her arm, pressed close, yearning over her in her shame and sorrow and feebleness. To the strong woman she was a child again, a soft, helpless thing. The mother blamed herself for having been hard on her.
After lunch old Sam suggested a drive—the air would do them good. They tried to persuade Suzanne to come, but the young woman, prone on the sofa, a salts bottle at hand, refused to stir. ”

“ George, slumped down in his chair, with his hands thrust in his pockets, his chin pressed on his collar, said gloomily:
"I confess I'm dazed. It's perfectly possible that Chapman, who didn't like his wife, should have fallen in love with the girl, it's perfectly natural that they should have kept it dark; but that he's joined with her in a plan to steal Mrs. Janney's jewels!"—he shook his head staring in front of him—"I can't get the focus. Price wouldn't qualify for a Sunday school superintendent, but I can't seem to see him as a gentleman burglar." ”

“ He went to the back, struck a match and looked at the license tag—the number was that of the motor he had followed. Covered by the darkness, driven deep among the trees, it could easily have passed unnoticed until the daylight betrayed it.
The plan of escape revealed a new artfulness—the man had made off either on foot or in another vehicle. It accounted for the license—he knew his pursuers would mark it and look for a car carrying that number. In the face of such a crafty completeness of detail the young man felt himself reduced to a baffled indecision. ”