University of Virginia Library

13. XIII

Major Barry noticed the change as soon as he entered the drawing-room at five o'clock and found the girls busily engaged with the tea things.

"What have you been doing to my goddaughter?" he asked, smiling at Beatrix as he shook hands.

The intervening hours had apparently had their effect on him, too, for he had regained some of his old-time cheeriness.

"Why, nothing special," replied Trixie wonderingly.

"Well, she looks like a different girl, almost as if she had anticipated the good news that reached me only a few minutes ago. Cary's on his way home," he added joyfully, turning to Elizabeth.

"Oh!" exclaimed Betty, coming eagerly to him. "When will he arrive?"

"That I don't know, but I had a letter from Bordeaux, saying that he would sail on the following day on the Rochambeau. He said he ran across Tutney at Madeira. Odd, wasn't it? And he intimated that he had had a most satisfactory interview with him."

"That was strange," agreed Elizabeth.

"Is Tutney coming back, too?"

"I hardly think so — at least not just yet. He expects to come over before long, however, for he wants to make investigations himself. I gleaned from Cary's letter that things are not quite to his liking."

"I wonder when the Rochambeau is due?"

Beatrix rang, and when the butler appeared she told him, to bring the evening paper. When it arrived Major Barry took it to a lamp on a near-by table.

"She's been sighted off Fire Island!" he exclaimed joyfully.

"That means she'll dock early to-morrow morning."

"You'll be there to meet him, won't you, Uncle Tod?" Betty asked anxiously.

"Don't worry your pretty head about that, my dear! I'll be there, if I have to camp out all night on the wharf. I've kept my campaigning outfit and am prepared for all emergencies," he added whimsically.

He folded the paper carefully and placed it behind the lamp. A head-line had caught his eye which he did not care to have Betty see. Evidently the detectives, too, were aware of Cary's proximity, and his arrival would doubtless be simultaneous with his arrest; but this the major did not think it necessary for Betty to know. As it was, either apprehension or fatigue had driven the happy light from her face.

"Have the lawyers learned anything more?" she asked fearfully.

The major shook his head.

"Not a thing. As far as I can make out, it's all up to Cary. If he can prove that Molly Delaney was alive when he left the hotel, we're all right. If he can't — "

"Well?" The word was hardly more than a breath.

The major spread out his hands significantly.

"Well!" He hesitated a moment, then his eyes fell on her troubled face. "We'll have to establish his innocence in some other way," he concluded with a hopefulness that he was far from feeling.

True to his word, the next morning found Major Barry waiting impatiently, in the crisp air that was blowing in from the sea, for the great black vessel creeping up the teeming river. Near him stood unobtrusively two men, who evidently considered him an object of unusual interest, for they kept him constantly in sight. When he was joined by a short man with quick, alert eyes and a pointed nose, they evinced ever-increasing satisfaction.

"That's Sturgis, the lawyer," one of the men remarked in an undertone to his companion.

"I guess that settles it!" answered the other, a gleam of triumph lighting his keen eyes.

It was he who, when Fairfax Cary came quickly down the gangway, stepped forward and said quietly:

"We want you, Mr. Cary,"

Fairfax stopped abruptly, and the hand that he had stretched out in greeting to Major Barry fell to his side. He looked at the face at his shoulder inquiringly. The second man appeared on the other side.

"Better come quietly, Mr. Cary," he remarked, turning back his coat and revealing the shield pinned on his waistcoat. "We'll explain later."

Fairfax looked in a perplexed way at Major Barry.

"It's a mistake, Fairfax, my boy, of course; but we'll just jump into the taxi with these two gentlemen and talk it over on the way. This is Mr. Sturgis," he added, indicating the man beside him.

Fairfax bowed in a dazed way and accompanied the men as they led the way to the street.

"What's it all about, major?" he asked as they passed through the crowd.

"Something to do with Molly Delaney's murder," answered the major, eying him keenly.

"Molly Delaney! Murdered!" gasped Fairfax. "Why — who — "

"Here we are!" exclaimed the major as they reached the curb. "Will you meet us there, Sturgis?" he asked.

A satisfied expression rested on his face, and his voice was almost jovial.

The short man assented, and the four took their places in the taxi.

When the major walked into the Hunnewells' drawing-room, two hours later, he was rubbing his hands delightedly.

"Just as we thought, Betty dear — that boy is no more implicated in the murder than I am," he announced joyfully to Elizabeth, who had left her seat on the sofa and came to meet him. "Whether he can prove it is another story. He's convinced that Molly was alive when he left. He says he could distinctly hear her talking."

"To whom?" asked Betty quickly.

"Ah, that he didn't say!"

"Does he know?"

"I imagine so, but he didn't tell us."

"Why didn't he? It may have been — probably was — the man who killed her."

The major shrugged his shoulders impatiently.

"Yes, I know; but you know what quixotic ideas of honor Cary has, and he didn't actually see the man, couldn't even recognize his voice."

Betty wrung her hands desperately.

"When can I see him?" she asked suddenly.

The major started.

"See him?" he ejaculated.

"Yes."

"Oh, you could hardly do that!"

"Why not?"

Betty's fair head went up defiantly.

"Why, because — my dear child, he's been arrested! He's in the Tombs!"

"What difference does that make?"

Betty's face was very white, but her eyes gazed unflinchingly into the major's.

"Why, you could hardly go there, you know!" The major paused; then he added: "Of course, if you were his sister or his wife, that would be different."

"How different?" argued Betty rebelliously. "He got into this trouble doing something for me, and I insist on seeing him. If you won't take me, I shall have to go alone!"

The major groaned inwardly. The determined expression on Betty's face indicated that she was in deadly earnest.

"Well, some time," he temporized.

"This afternoon!" declared Betty emphatically. "I'm going this afternoon!"

"Sturgis is trying to arrange about bail. Couldn't you wait until Cary's out?" pleaded the major.

"I'm going this afternoon," repeated Elizabeth quietly. "Now will you take me?"

The major acquiesced reluctantly.

"Have you seen your aunt and uncle?" he asked on his way to the door.

Betty shook her head.

"My dear child," expostulated the major,

I really don't think you're treating them quite right. After all, you know, he's your father's brother, and they were very good to you last summer."

"I know," agreed Betty remorsefully. "I must go. I'll go this afternoon, late. Now go down and tell Fairfax I'm coming." She took hold of the lapels of his coat and, raising herself on her toes, kissed his cheek. "You're such a dear!" she whispered tremulously. "I don't know what I should do without you!"

Major Barry stroked her hair gently.

"There, there," he said tenderly. "I'm doing nothing at all, nothing at all; but don't worry — I'm sure we shall be able to straighten things out before long."

But his optimism was all on the surface; for as he sped down-town to hear the result of Sturgis's efforts to get Cary out on bail, he gave himself over unreservedly to the depression that had gradually been closing in on him.

"No matter how hard one may try to put a cheerful face on it," he thought gloomily, "the fact remains that the situation is extremely grave."

And in this Sturgis agreed when he met him in front of the Tombs and they stopped for a few minutes' talk before going in. Bail had been refused, and the outlook was far from reassuring.