Ashton-Kirk, Criminologist

by John Thomas McIntyre

  CHAPTER XXV

  NORA TALKS AND SCANLON LISTENS

  As Bat Scanlon stepped out of the street car which took him to NoraCavanaugh's house, he looked at his watch. It was almost midnight.

  "She'll have had time to get home," he said to himself, "but maybe it'llbe too late to see her."

  But he set his jaw at this thought, and shook his head with a bull-likemotion. He sprang up the steps and pulled at the bell viciously. To hissurprise the door opened at once, and he saw Nora in her coat and furs,a veil over her face, standing in the hall.

  "Bat!" she said, and stood staring at him.

  "Just come in?" he asked.

  "No," was the answer. "I--I----"

  "Just going out, then. I see."

  There was something in his manner and tone which caused her to look athim steadily. Then with a little gesture she said:

  "Will you come in?"

  He entered and she closed the door; as he stood there turning his hatabout in his hands, he looked very big and stubborn--and, if youunderstood him very well, as Nora did--very much afraid.

  "It is late," she said. "Is anything wrong?"

  "There will be," said Bat "There will be unless something is done tohead it off."

  Without a word she led the way into a room at one side; and after theyhad sat down, she asked:

  "And now, what is it?"

  "I've just been with Ashton-Kirk to see a man of the name of Quigley--asort of pawnbroker." His eyes were upon her, but she continued to regardhim steadily without any change of expression. "A necklace had beentaken to him to-day by a woman--a diamond necklace." Her eyes wavered atthis, and an expression of fear came into her face. There was a pause,and then Bat leaned forward and said in a lowered voice: "What made yousay that you had put your jewels away in a vault?"

  She arose and went to his side.

  "Bat," she said, "I felt sure your friend Mr. Ashton-Kirk would find meout. I knew from the first that I was not cunning enough to concealanything from him."

  "Nora," said Scanlon, as he, too, arose, "why did you try?" Again therewas a pause, and again the big athlete broke the silence. "As I havetold you more than once," said he, "I believe in you; nothing can shakeme from that. There are a great many things you have said and done thatI do not understand; others of them I see through, though you did notintend that I should. Why was all this? Why didn't you tell me the factsas they stood?"

  "Bat," she said, "I didn't dare; I was afraid."

  "Afraid? Of what?" He looked down at her; her face was pale; her glovedhands were clasped, tremblingly. "That night when Tom Burton came here,he struck you. We saw the mark, but you said it was caused by somethingelse. He also stole your jewels, but you said nothing. Nora, was thereany good reason why you should have misled us like that?"

  She reached out and touched his arm.

  "I can see," she said, "that it will be useless to carry the thing anyfurther. I did think I could manage it myself, but I see now that it washopeless from the start. Will you sit down?" There was a certain sweethumbleness in her voice which turned the big man's heart to water. "I'lltell you everything now, and so you may judge me for yourself."

  Once more they sat down; Nora drew the veil still further from her faceand began to speak in a low voice, but steadily, and with no hesitation.

  "Tom Burton did strike me that night, and I would not tell the truthabout it, Bat, because I was ashamed. I could not bring myself to admitthat the man I had chosen for my husband would do such a thing. Othermisdoings of his I could speak of--but that one I felt I must alwayskeep to myself. His taking of my jewels I would not have held from youif I had not been afraid--afraid as I never was before."

  "Of what?" asked Scanlon.

  "Tom Burton was killed in his son's house; I knew that son; I knew whathe had suffered all his life because of his father. I had heard thestory in all its pitiful details. As a child he had been affronted andmishandled--as a boy--as a young man. He could never forget what hismother had been forced to endure; in his mind was always the fact thathis sister was an invalid, perhaps for life, owing to the povertybrought on them by their father's neglect. With all this before me, canyou wonder that I was afraid--afraid that the boy, in a moment ofmadness, had struck his father down?"

  Bat drew in a long breath; in it there was a vast relief and a certainwonder.

  "No," said he. "No; did you think that?"

  "The idea was agonizing, and I made up my mind to do all I could to savehim; that is why I appealed to you to get me all the intimate details.Then he was arrested; the body had been examined by the coroner, but noword was said of my jewels. It was then that a second thought came tome; suppose the murder had not been done, after all, in a suddenmounting of fury? Suppose the boy had seen the diamonds and had beentempted? Suppose he had killed Tom Burton in order to get possession ofthem? I was appalled at the notion, which with each moment became moreand more a conviction. But I still held to the resolve to help him. Whatif he had done the thing? Was it altogether his fault? Was it not a partof an inheritance from a tainted father?

  "So I said nothing of my loss of the jewels; the dread was in me that ifthe facts concerning them were known, suspicion would fall uponhim--they might discover the stolen things on him and so he would losehis life, as well as his life's happiness, because of that man. I feltthat no part of the truth must come out, that I must not even tell of myhusband's visit to me that night; and when, in talking with you at youroffice, I permitted the fact to slip, I was startled."

  "I remember that you were," said Bat. "And I wondered what it meant." Hesat for a space and looked at her; and then, as she said nothing more,he went on: "You do not know it, but for days things fell in suchcombinations that more than once it looked as though _you_ would beaccused."

  "Bat!" She cried out his name, frightened, and her wide brown eyesopened to their fullest extent.

  "Even an hour ago I saw and heard some things which seemed to point toyou. Maybe if my nerves weren't keyed up as they are I wouldn't havethought so. But, anyway, I did, and that's what brought me here."

  "But surely," and her voice was broken by the shortness of herbreathing, "surely you never thought this of me?"

  But Bat did not deny it.

  "What else was I to do when things piled up as they did? Some of them Idon't understand at this minute, and maybe I'll never understand them.But there are others," and he looked at her with frank inquiry in hisface, "that you can explain; and, Nora, I'm looking to you to do it."

  And with that he told her of the things he had heard from Big Slim andof those he had seen at Bohlmier's hotel. She listened with many littlegasps and surprised gestures.

  "To think of that man being so near to me that night," she said, when hehad done, "and watching me with such an intent. And now, poor Bat," witha little sound in her voice which was part a sob and part a laugh,"because he saw so much and understood so little, and told it all toyou, I will have to speak of something I never expected to make known toany one. You know how I have always dreaded and detested divorce; howthe thought of it almost sickened me? Well, Bat, two years ago I felt Icould endure Tom Burton no longer, and had all the preliminary papersfor a proceeding made out."

  "What!" said Scanlon. "You, Nora!"

  "I did. But then all my old feeling against the thing overtook me, and Ilaid the papers away in a little silver box which I kept in a drawer inmy room. When Tom Burton struck and robbed me that night, I was in aperfect whirl of feeling. I resolved to be free of him forever. And I'ddo it at once. What I was seen to take from the drawer, Bat, was thelittle silver box holding those papers; I rushed from the house meaningto go to my lawyer. And I was a half dozen blocks away when I came outof the state I was in, realized the hour and the impossibility of thewhole situation, and returned home."

  "That's it," said Bat, with the sigh of a man relieved of a heavyburden. "That's it. I might have known that it would be something ofthat sort. Then you did not go to Stanwick at all
that night?"

  "I never dreamed of such a thing. And when I first heard of this man youcall Big Slim," went on Nora, "it was in a letter he wrote me after themurder, and of which he spoke guardedly. I felt that this was a cluethat if followed I might be able to show poor Frank Burton to beinnocent after all. So I did what I otherwise would never have done; Iwent to the place mentioned, which was the hotel kept by that fiendishold man Bohlmier."

  "What did they want?"

  "It was blackmail. They, too, fancied I was at Stanwick that night. Theyknew about the diamonds, though I did not then know how they came by theinformation. They thought to frighten me into paying a sum of money. Thetall man's threat was of the police whom he said would be sure toconnect me with the crime. But I laughed at him, and dared him to doanything he had in mind. The old man, I think, would have threatened mylife. I had heard some of his talk in the next room; that is why I tookup the revolver from the table; and when I listened at the wall it wasto hear what more he might say."

  "They keep your house under watch," said Scanlon.

  "I know; I see them loitering in the street almost constantly. And theywrite me threatening letters. But I've never been afraid of them untillast night. After you had gone--oh, please, Bat, forgive me for keepingit from you, when you were so worried for my sake and so good to me--butI went to Stanwick; I felt that I had to--there was something I mustknow.

  "These men followed me, Bat; I did not know it until I had left thehouse after my visit. Then the old man came up to me in the dark. Hedrew out a knife; I saw it quite plainly somehow; and then some oneseized him, and----" She stopped and looked at the big athlete intently;the expression upon his face was one not to be mistaken. "It was you,"she said. "Bat, it was you."

  He told her how he came to be there and also of what he sawafterward--of how Mary Burton went so strangely through the house, andof the words of the old man who scouted the idea of the girl being ill,and who had protested he had seen her leave the house more than oncesince the crime in a sort of disguise. As Nora listened to this, herface grew rigid with apprehension.

  "When you returned from your first visit to Stanwick," she said, afterhe had finished, "and told me of the way young Frank Burton acted andspoke while being examined by the police, an idea came into my mindwhich I at once put away from me. I knew Mary Burton, because of herillness, had moments in which she was not quite herself. Suppose it werenot Frank after all who did the thing I so feared--suppose it were she?"

  "Ah!" said Scanlon. "_You_ got that, too, did you?"

  "But I refused to consider it. The idea of Frank was bad enough, butthat of Mary was so much worse that I could not bear it. But when thepapers came out saying that a woman was suspected I could bear it nolonger; I got permission to see Frank and told him of what was beingsaid. He denied it furiously, and it was then I knew he, too, thoughneither of us mentioned her name, believed his sister guilty. He hadtaken suspicion and imprisonment to attract the attention of the policefrom her; and now he was ready to confess the crime if his othersacrifices failed."

  Bat Scanlon looked at her and marveled how he had ever permitted thereal truth behind this situation to escape him as it had; and as helooked, little incidents, fragments of conversations came to him, and herealized that his state of mind had not been so extraordinary after all.

  "Tell me," said he, the talk between Ashton-Kirk and Burgess strong inhis mind--a conversation which seemed to point so directly toward Nora,"has Mary Burton ever traveled much? Has she ever held positions of anykind in other cities?"

  "There have been periods when she has been almost well," said Nora. "Andshe has been in other cities at these times and perhaps has hademployment."

  "By George!" said Bat, with a sigh, "things do work out queerly. I wasalmost sure that you were----" But he stopped there. The scene inQuigley's office, an hour before, suddenly flared up in his mind,vividly. "I guess," he went on, "it's all up with that poor thing, inspite of her brother and everything else. Ashton-Kirk's hard to fool,and he must have had an eye on her and been tracing her doings from thefirst. He knows she's been selling the diamonds, and he has a witnesswho says he saw her strike the blow that did for her father. And justbefore I left I heard him planning for a little journey somewhere; atfirst I thought it was here, and so I came to warn you. But I see it wasStanwick he had in view. He'll take the police, maybe, and arrest MaryBurton."

  "Oh, no, no!" Nora was standing wide-eyed before him. "Oh, no! If I hadreason to try and protect the brother, I have a double reason forprotecting her, for she has suffered even more and is much morehelpless." She stood looking at him for an instant and then went on:"Bat, you came here, in spite of your friendship for Ashton-Kirk, towarn me of what you thought a danger; will you go with me to warn MaryBurton of what you _know_ is one?"

  He was silent for a moment, and then he said, slowly:

  "I haven't the same reason in her case, Nora; but if you ask me to doit, why, I will."

  "I was about to go to her as you rang the bell," she said. "I don'tknow why, but just felt that I had to. I ask you to come with me," andheld out her hand.

  He grasped this eagerly, and then without another word they were uponthe street and hurrying away through the night.

  CHAPTER XXVI

  CONCLUSION

  Scanlon and Nora Cavanaugh were hurrying through the vast waiting-roomat the railroad station when the big athlete felt a touch upon his arm.

  "Not that way, old chap," said a voice at his side.

  It was Ashton-Kirk, smiling and unruffled, and near by stood the broker,Quigley. Nora gave a gasp of despair, and Scanlon felt her cling to him,tremblingly.

  "Fenton is outside there," resumed the investigator, nodding his headtoward the train shed. "I have a notion that he's on his way toStanwick. If you go out, he'll see you."

  Bat gave a sigh of relief; after all, his own mission and that of Norawas not suspected.

  "Is Fuller trailing him?" he asked.

  "Yes; he just gave me the word as he passed."

  Quigley, as he stood waiting, had a most uncomfortable expression uponhis face; he stood first upon one foot and then upon the other;evidently what was in prospect for him was not at all to his liking.

  "Mr. Quigley and myself had intended taking the train for Stanwick,"said Ashton-Kirk. "But I think now that we'd better not."

  "Not go?" It was Nora who spoke, and there was eagerness in her voice.

  "Not by train," smiled the investigator.

  "What's your idea of going there to-night?" asked Bat, with anassumption of ease.

  "Why, I might ask you that, old chap," said the other, thoughtfully,"but I won't. But my errand is no secret. It's a little matter ofidentification."

  At this moment Quigley advanced, and with a bow to Nora said:

  "If I have been an innocent instrument--perfectly innocent, mind you--inthe hands of a designing person, Miss Cavanaugh, I beg your pardon. Iwas assured that the jewels were honestly come by; and when Mr.Ashton-Kirk told me a while ago that they were really your property, Iimmediately placed myself in his hands, most anxious that completejustice should be done."

  Nora made a vague answer to this, for at the moment she was watching theinvestigator, who stood with narrowed eyes, a thoughtful wrinkle betweenhis brows, and one hand stroking his chin. And as she watched him, hespoke to Scanlon.

  "It may be," said he, and there was a slow, curious smile about thecorners of his mouth, "that Fenton's blundering into my plans will notbe serious, after all. Indeed, it may be turned to account." Thesingular eyes went to the girl. "You are interested in this case, MissCavanaugh, and so is Scanlon. Why not go with Mr. Quigley and myself,and witness its solution."

  "Fenton will spot us," said Scanlon. He had still a hope of doing whathe and Nora had set out to do, and the pallor of her beautiful face andthe misery in her eyes urged him to lose no chance. Once out of sight ofthe keen eyes of the investigator, he and the girl could take a taxi andmake for Stanwick with a
ll speed.

  "Not if we go by motor," said Ashton-Kirk, in answer to his objections."We can do that and make as good time as the local."

  "Taxicabs are so small," said Nora, as they descended a long flight ofsteps to the street. "Four will crowd one so."

  In her mind was the same thought as in that of Bat's. Once let themdivide into two parties--she and Scanlon making one--and she was quitesure that _their_ cab would be the first at No. 620 Duncan Street. Butthe investigator dashed this hope by leading the way, when they reachedthe street, to where some touring cars were to hire near the station.

  "These," said he, quietly, "will be comfortable."

  There was a businesslike young man in charge of the first of the cars,and he made his bargain, cranked his engine, received his orders andstarted off in an amazingly brief time. Inside of twenty minutes thesuburbs, with their long rows of villa-like buildings, and their wideand smoothly paved streets, began to swing past them.

  "I have your interest to thank, Miss Cavanaugh," said Ashton-Kirk, "forbringing this case to my attention--as a participant, that is. There hasbeen a simplicity in it which has attracted me from the start, and, atthe same time, a curious interweaving of threads which, under almost anyother set of circumstances, would have been as wide apart as the poles.Scanlon has gone partly over the route with me, and because of thisinterweaving I have had considerable trouble in preventing his jumpingat conclusions--in taking appearance for granted without waiting forproof. I am not sure how far I kept him from error," with a nod and alaugh, "for several times I believe he has gone the length of suspectingyou."

  Nora made no reply to this, but Scanlon said:

  "I have believed she did it; everything pointed that way. But I neverblamed her, for she had cause enough, even for that."

  Ashton-Kirk nodded gravely.

  "Cause, yes," said he. "And that is the heart-breaking thing connectedwith crime of a certain sort. Sometimes the criminal is much moreinnocent than the victim." He sat thoughtful for a space, while the carbounded forward over the well-kept roads; then he resumed: "I could see,Scanlon, where and how your thoughts flowed as they did; but I could donothing more at the time than tell you to make no snap judgments. Theagitation of Miss Cavanaugh caught your attention in the first place,and so when we saw a woman's footprints by the rose arbor you concludedthey were hers; we found a small revolver by the fence; that also madeyou think of her. When, by means of the particle of mortar on the bar ofthe cellar grating at Stanwick, I discovered that the same person whohad prowled about the lawn on the night of the murder had scaled thescaffolding outside Miss Cavanaugh's window, you fancied this to bealmost positive proof. What you saw at Bohlmier's hotel, and the storytold you by Big Slim, made it almost damning.

  "If you had waited, as a man more experienced in such things would havedone," and the investigator smiled at his friend, "you would have savedyourself a state of mind. The prints at the rose arbor were made by acertain sort of shoe--a kind which I felt sure Miss Cavanaugh neverwore. Later, in a second visit which I paid to No. 620 Duncan Street, Ifound the shoes which made the prints, and still with particles of soilclinging to them."

  Bat caught a little moan from Nora, and he held her cold, limp hand inhis strong, warm one.

  "You're sure of that?" said he, to Ashton-Kirk.

  "Quite positive. And the matter of the little revolver picked up on thelawn: that belonged to Fenton; he probably dropped it in scaling thefence. By means of a strong glass I saw a number scratched on the metalof the butt. I at once knew this to be a pawnbroker's mark. Fuller,inside three hours, had located the pawnbroker, and the records of theplace showed the weapon had been sold to Fenton only a little whilebefore."

  "Good work!" admired Bat. "Nice!"

  "And speaking of Fenton," went on Ashton-Kirk, "it rather puzzled me atfirst how he had been over the ground about the house and left no trace.But a little attention and look at his feet showed me that I had seenhis tracks all over one side of the lawn--the ones of the man walking onhis toes--and that I had supposed them to be those of Big Slim before heput on his 'creepers.'"

  "Tell me," said Scanlon, "have you ever, in the course of this affair,believed young Frank Burton guilty?"

  "At first I did not know. But after my second visit to Duncan Street,and a little talk with the colored maid, who is an honest imaginativesoul, I was convinced that he was innocent."

  "What did the maid tell you?" asked Bat.

  "After the Bounder had been admitted to the house that night, she hadgone back to the kitchen to her work. She heard Frank come in, but shedid not catch anything of the altercation which followed. A littlelater, her duties finished, she started for her room which was at thetop of the house. As she passed along the hall, on the second floor, shenoticed the door of the bath room standing open and remembered she hadnot supplied it with fresh towels. The linen closet is in a room at thefar end of the hall; she went there and procured what she wanted, and asshe came into the hall once more she saw young Frank Burton come quicklyout of his room, stand at the head of the stairway for a moment asthough listening, and then hurry down to the floor below."

  "That must have been after he had taken his sister to her room," saidScanlon.

  But Ashton-Kirk shook his head.

  "No; a few minutes later the maid saw him ascend the stairs once more,and the sister was with him then."

  "But," cried Nora, a vague fear as to what this might lead to in hermind, "when the maid was questioned by the coroner's physician shesaid----"

  But the investigator stopped her.

  "As I have said, the maid is an altogether unimaginative creature, andit never occurred to her that anything short of blows or outcries couldhave anything to do with the crime. It was plain to me, as I talked toher, that she had even then no notion of the importance of what she wassaying. She was simply answering questions. However, added to what thenurse had told Dr. Shower, her information was vital, indeed. MissWheeler had gone into the kitchen, if you recall her testimony, at atime when the three Burtons, father, son and daughter, were in thesitting-room. She said she had gone to tell the maid she might go tobed, and found she had already gone; also she remained in the kitchenfor a space, attending to some duties of her own.

  "During this interval young Burton must have gone to his room, probablysick at heart with the wrangling. His haste in emerging from the room,when the colored girl saw him later, and his pause to listen at the headof the stairs seem to indicate that something had attracted hisattention below."

  "Have you any idea what that was?" asked Scanlon.

  "I am not yet sure. But this is how it builds up in my mind. When hereentered the sitting-room he found his father dead and his sister in afaint. Having, of course, a full knowledge of certain nervous seizuresto which his sister was subject, it rushed upon him that, in a moment offrenzy, she had killed her father."

  "No!" cried Nora Cavanaugh. "Oh, no!"

  "He's only supposing," said Scanlon, soothingly. "That's nothing atall."

  "The young man's brain is a quick one," proceeded Ashton-Kirk; "any onewho follows his work in the _Standard_ knows that. He at once began tocast about, so it seems to me, for a way of concealing his sister'sguilt. He took her to her room, and came down once more to thesitting-room. Allowing for a proper passage of time, he then asked thenurse to call in the police. To them he told the story which heafterward repeated to the coroner's physician: that his father had methis death in the space which had elapsed between his taking his sisterto her room and his return to the sitting-room."

  Bat looked at Nora; in the semi-dark of the car her face was drawn anddespairing. There was not a ray of hope in Scanlon's own breast, andpatiently he listened as the quiet voice of the investigator went on:

  "The by-play between the young man and the girl, during theirexamination by Dr. Shower, which you reported so graphically to me, tookmy attention. He must have seen suspicion heading his way, and yet hetook no real steps to prevent it. And then
there was something else. Youreported that he had appeared in the sitting-room after you had gonethere with Osborne and Dr. Shower to examine the body; and his anxietythen concerning the nature of the instrument used in the commission ofthe crime struck me as being a bit unusual. He seemed to dread,apparently, that this would be shown to be something caught up on thespur of the moment, something belonging in the room. Without putting itin so many words, he seemed to insinuate that a regulation weapon, suchas might have been brought into the house by an unknown, had been used.In this I seemed to detect not only a desire to throw the police off thetrack, but also the existence of an element of hope. In the back of hismind was the thought that, after all, his sister might not be guilty. Ifthe weapon used was not one that had been ready to her hand, there was achance that she was innocent.

  "However, the finding of the candlestick must have dissipated this hope,and when they charged him with the crime, he merely denied it; he, Ithink, feared to do or say anything which might direct the attention ofthe police definitely away from himself; for, in doing this, they mightchance to think of his sister."

  "But," said Nora, "you have no proof that all of this is true."

  "Not proof," said Ashton-Kirk, smiling. "But there are certain almostunmistakable indications. One of these I brought about by my confidenceto the police regarding the possibility of a woman being connected withthe case. I felt that if he believed his sister guilty that this wouldstir him to some further action. It did, as you know. He instantlycanceled his denials, and admitted the crime."

  "Tell me," said Scanlon, "haven't you ever thought that maybe some oneelse had done this thing? Has your mind always been fixed on these two?For example, didn't you, also, once think Miss Cavanaugh had a part init?"

  "Not for a moment," smiled Ashton-Kirk.

  "Not even when I told you how I'd seen her at Bohlmier's?"

  "Not even then. Of course I didn't know the explanation of that, and atonce set about finding one. Fuller was put to work looking up Bohlmier,and in one day had his record complete. The man is a skilfulblackmailer; he has practiced in many cities and has served more thanone term in jail. I knew at once what had occurred; the two men fanciedthey 'had something on' Miss Cavanaugh regarding this murder, and hadendeavored to extort money from her. I leave it to you," with a smilingnod toward Nora, "to tell how near I am to the facts."

  The girl made a low-voiced, unintelligible reply, and then they ran onfor some distance in silence. Suddenly Ashton-Kirk signaled the driverand the car came to a stand; the investigator pointed to some buildingsat no great distance; a locomotive with a few cars trailing behind itwas panting laboriously away from these, its headlight glaring moroselyinto the darkness.

  "I think," said the investigator, "that is Stanwick Station."

  "It is," agreed Scanlon.

  "Then, more than likely, that is the train which carried Fenton andFuller. I suppose it would be as well if we got out here and walked theremainder of the way."

  Accordingly they alighted, and the driver was instructed to wait wherehe was. Then they proceeded toward Duncan Street, reaching which theyturned into it, and soon were in the neighborhood of No. 620. Theypaused in the shadows in which Bat Scanlon had spoken to the oldresident; the house opposite seemed dark and silent.

  "No one stirring," said Bat. "This whole section can be as quiet a placeas I know of when it takes the notion."

  Ashton-Kirk, who had been straining his eyes through the darkness, nowplaced his fingers to his lips and gave a peculiar whistle. After amoment there was an answer to this, and then a figure emerged from theshadow of the Burton house. In a very little while longer Fuller crossedthe street to them.

  "What news?" asked the investigator, briefly.

  "Fenton is in the house," answered Fuller. "I followed him from thetrain; he went to the front door, rang in the regular way and wasadmitted by what looked to me to be a nurse."

  "Had he any idea he was followed?"

  "I think not. He made no show of it, anyhow."

  "Suppose you stay here and keep Mr. Quigley company for a few minutes,"suggested Ashton-Kirk. "We'd like to look around a bit."

  "I am not accustomed to the night air," complained the broker. "It has abad effect upon my breathing."

  "We shall be only a very little while," he was assured.

  Ashton-Kirk crossed the street with Nora and Scanlon at his side.Quietly they entered at the little iron gate and stood for a spaceexamining the house.

  From the fan light above the front door came a dull glow, as though asubdued light burned in the hall.

  "All the shutters are closed," said Bat, as he noticed this fact. "Theymay be brightly lighted inside and we not know it."

  The keen, searching eyes of Ashton-Kirk caught a sort of glow upon thegrass at one side; he moved in that direction and the others followedhim. At the second floor a light flickered dimly in a window; it was awavering, uncertain sort of thing, and Bat Scanlon recognized it atonce.

  "It's candle-light," said he. "Remember, I told you about seeing thegirl----"

  Here he felt Nora's cold hand close upon his wrist; at the windowappeared the figure of Mary Burton, in the same loose gown as before andholding a candle in her hand. The light was full upon her face as shebent forward as though intent upon catching some sound. And the face waswhite and rigid with fear.

  "Have you looked through the upper part of the house?" Ashton-Kirk askedScanlon.

  "No," replied Bat.

  "I have," said the other. "That window is right at the head of astairway. Something is being said or done upon the lower floor whichrather upsets her."

  He moved forward as he spoke; beneath the dimly-lighted window above wasa square, heavily made shutter different from the others in shape, andmarking a hall window. As they were about to pass it, Ashton-Kirkuttered a low exclamation and stopped suddenly. The shutter was badlyfitted, having swollen with the weather, so that it could not becompletely closed. The slim, strong fingers of Ashton-Kirk gripped itsedge; slowly, carefully, with never a creak it opened. There was a whitecurtain inside, but a pendant light made all things in the hall visible.A flight of stairs led to the second floor, and at the foot of thesestood Fenton, one hand upon the rail, and the nurse, with frightenedface, was pleading with him, as though not to do something which he hadsignified his intention of doing.

  "Ah!" Scanlon heard Ashton-Kirk breathe. "So that's your game, is it?"Then to Bat: "Stay here; keep an eye on that fellow, and be ready toact."

  With these words he slipped easily away into the darkness, and Scanlonand Nora were left alone at the window.

  "He is demanding to be allowed to see Mary," said the trembling voice ofNora in Bat's ear. "And the poor nurse is terrified. See how she triesto stop him!"

  With a sort of snarl, the broken-nosed man threw off the detaining handof the nurse and turned a threatening face upon her, at the same timegesturing toward the upper floor and signifying his intention ofascending in spite of anything the girl might say.

  "But she's got grit," said Bat, in a low tone of admiration. "She hangsto him. The girl up-stairs is her patient, and she'll not have herfrightened. It's part of the training they get, I guess."

  Fenton let go the stair rail and made a step toward the nurse; his uglyface was distorted, and his hands were clenched. He began to speak; whathe said could not be heard by the watchers outside the window, but thenurse seemed terrified and shrank from him.

  "He's down to cases now," said Scanlon, as he deftly freed his revolver,and held it ready, but in such a way that Nora could not see it.

  "Look!" whispered Nora, thrillingly. "Look, Bat. On the stairs!"

  Bat Scanlon shifted his eyes from the threatening figure of Fenton, andthe shrinking one of the nurse; upon the stairs, coming slowly down, herloose dressing-gown held about her by one slim hand, was Mary Burton.She had reached the foot of the stairs before the broken-nosed man sawher; then he whirled about, and his hands gripped her delicate throat.


  Scanlon's revolver arose to a deadly level, but before he could fire,Ashton-Kirk was seen to leap into the hall like a panther. There was ashort, sharp blow, with all the power of the lithe body behind it;Fenton's grasp relaxed and he fell to the floor. The watchers saw Marytotter, and noted Ashton-Kirk catch her in his arms, at the same timegesturing to the nurse to bring a restorative. The nurse had vanished,and Ashton-Kirk was placing the sick girl upon a hall lounge when Noraand Scanlon hurried from the window and around to the door.

  This stood wide open, and they encountered Fuller and the pawnbroker,Quigley, as they entered. In the hall they saw Fenton rising sullenly tohis feet, one hand feeling at his jaw; Ashton-Kirk was bending over thewhite, fragile creature upon the lounge.

  "There she is," said Scanlon, pointing to Mary and looking at Quigley."There she is. Pile it all on her shoulders. She's strong and can standit. Say your say, and then beat it; for by George, I won't be able tostand the sight of you afterward."

  Quigley looked at the speaker in surprise; then his puffy eyes went toMary with a deepening of their astonishment, and finally to Ashton-Kirk.

  "Is this the lady you had in mind?" said he. "If so you have made amistake. She is not the person who sold me the diamonds."

  Nora Cavanaugh gave a gasping sort of cry and stood staring at thepawnbroker, her wide eyes full of joy--of bewilderment. At that moment aset of hangings were pushed aside and the nurse came into the hall, aglass in her hand. Silently Ashton-Kirk touched Quigley upon the arm,and pointed to the nurse. The man started, and then regarded herintently.

  "Yes," said he. "Yes! That is the woman! I can take my oath on that inany court in the land."

  The woman stood motionless for a moment; she drew in a long breath; theglass fell to the floor and smashed. Then she disappeared once morethrough the door by which she entered.

  "Fuller," said Ashton-Kirk. But he had no need to speak, for that briskyoung man was already after her. Dazed, Bat Scanlon looked about. Norawas upon her knees beside the sick girl, sobbing and chafing her palehands; the investigator was at a telephone summoning the police.Scanlon's glance then wandered to Fenton, and there rested.

  "You told us a couple of hours ago," said he, "that a woman killed TomBurton and that you saw her do it. Has he," and he nodded towardQuigley, "got it on the right party?"

  "Yes," replied the broken-nosed man, "he's got it right; it was thenurse. You don't have to look any further than that."

  "But," said Bat, a last doubt in his mind, "what was the idea of youwanting to go up-stairs a while ago, if you didn't want her?" pointingto Mary.

  "It was the sparks I wanted," said Fenton. "I thought if any were leftthey were in the nurse's room."

  * * * * *

  Next morning Nora Cavanaugh, still very pale, but with a light in hereyes such as had not been there for many days, sat snugly in the cornerof a sofa at her home, wrapped about in a beautiful old shawl. Near bysat Bat Scanlon; and standing before them, his hat and stick in his handas though about to leave, was Ashton-Kirk.

  "I'll admit," the big athlete was saying, "when the thing was finallybrought down to a woman and Nora was eliminated," with a smiling nodtoward her, "I could see nobody but Mary Burton. The nurse neveroccurred to me."

  "And yet _you_ seem to have suspected her from the start," said Nora,her eyes wonderingly on the criminologist. "Why was that?"

  "It began with the candlestick--the weapon used in the commission of themurder. Candlesticks go in pairs, usually. I found the mate to it on ashelf in the room across the hall from the sitting-room--that in whichthe nurse sat reading when Tom Burton was admitted to the house. Thatone of a pair of candlesticks should be in the sitting-room, and one inthe room opposite, struck me as being unusual; later, I spoke to themaid of this. She said they both belonged in the room--on theshelf--where I found the second one."

  Nora gave a little gasp, and her hand went to her heart.

  "It is horrible," she said.

  "While on my second visit to Duncan Street, I was at pains to note oneof the nurse's shoes; it was of a peculiarly comfortable make--the sameas those which made the prints at the rose arbor.

  "These two things rather centered my attention upon her; and I began topry into her record. Burgess, one of my men, went as far as New Orleans,looking her up. A number of things were found against her, a few ratherstartling. She seemed a woman given to criminal impulses, and just thesort who would perpetrate a thing such as the Stanwick affair."

  "And she had a good face," said Nora. "I had specially noticed it. Tothink," and the girl shivered, "that she should have been a suicide,locked in her room, when the police came!"

  "Fuller made a mistake in waiting when she refused to open the door,"said Ashton-Kirk. "He should have broken it in."

  "Her story of how the murder was done would have been interesting," saidScanlon.

  "I think I can, with Fenton's statement to help out, supply the mainpoints," said the investigator; "but of course they will lack thepersonal touch. As I have worked it out, she sat reading, just as shesaid; and she heard a greater part of what was talked of in thesitting-room between Burton and his daughter, and afterward the son. Ihave learned why the elder Burton went there that night. It was to callup and confer with a shady dealer in diamonds--just such another asQuigley. I have talked with this man. He said he'd had a call from theBounder, who told him he had a rich haul to dispose of. The time of thiscall and the time of the Bounder's presence at No. 620 Duncan Street wasthe same. But the place where they were to meet was never given to thedealer, for the call terminated abruptly in a confusion of voices, andthen a blank silence which told him that the receiver had been hung up.I explain this by reasoning it out that young Burton, indignant at whatwas going forward, had torn his father away from the instrument beforethe conversation had ended."

  "But, if this is so, why did the Bounder ever go to No. 620 DuncanStreet to carry out a deal for stolen diamonds?" asked Scanlon. "Therewere many perfectly safe places he could have picked."

  "The answer to that probably lies in the nature of the man. He hated hisson and daughter; he knew his rascally doings gave them pain, and it mayhave occurred to him as a delicious piece of humor to do this particularthing before their eyes, depending upon their shame to keep them silentafterward.

  "All this talk of diamonds attracted the attention of the listeningnurse. She finally stole out of the house, took up the position at therose arbor and watched what was happening in the sitting-room. While shewas doing this, I think young Burton must have gone up-stairs, where hewas afterward seen by the maid. From what Fenton has told the police, hewas looking in at the sitting-room window when he saw Mary Burton faint.No one was then in the room but the girl and her father; and as thelatter bent over her, Fenton saw the door open and the nurse steal intothe room, the brass candlestick in her hand. The jewels were upon thetable where the Bounder had placed them at the moment his daughter fell.The nurse snatched them up, and as she did so the man turned his headand saw her. He leaped toward her, and she struck him to the floor.Without a moment's hesitation she lifted the window, and dropped thecandlestick within two feet of where Fenton was crouched. Then she leftthe room.

  "The sounds made by these happenings are probably what young Burton waslistening to at the head of the stairs when the colored maid saw him.And my version of what he did after he descended the stairs you havealready heard. The brother thought the sister was the criminal, and whenthe sister came out of her swoon--I heard her admit as much to herbrother this morning when he was released from prison--her mind wasburdened with the belief that _he_ was guilty. And so both were silentfor each other's sake."

  "But Mary's prowling about the house with the candle as I saw her thatnight?" said Scanlon. "What do you make of that?"

  "Mary Burton has a good mind--though she lacks self-assertion. When thejewels were not found upon her father's body, or in the room where hewas killed, she realized they had been stolen. But
by whom? She knew herbrother too well to think he was the thief, and I think from that momentshe began to suspect the nurse. Once, as a report of one of my menstates, as the nurse left the house secretly and with a veil over herface, Mary was seen at a window, the curtain partly drawn aside, lookingafter her. I think her going about through the rooms with the candle wasan effort to locate the possible hiding place of the diamonds."

  Nora gave a deep sigh.

  "Poor thing! And to think how very brave she was."

  "Well," and Ashton-Kirk showed unmistakable signs of going, "I supposetheir troubles from that source, at least, are over."

  Nora arose and held out her hand.

  "That it is," she said, "is due to you. And I thank you for the peaceyou have brought to us all."

  Ashton-Kirk released the hand after a moment.

  "It was one of those things which would probably have unraveled itself,"said he. "However," with a nod and a smile which showed his flashingwhite teeth, "you never can tell. So it's just as well, perhaps, that itwasn't permitted to run its course." He paused in the doorway, the trimmaid waiting to show him out. "That you are a friend of Scanlon's meansa great deal to me," said he. "I'd do a great deal for him, for, youknow, he's one of the very best fellows in the world."

  And the last thing he saw as he vanished through the doorway was theundoubted blush which colored the face of Scanlon, and the light in thebeautiful eyes of Nora Cavanaugh, as she turned to look at him.

  The Stories In this Series are:

  ASHTON-KIRK, INVESTIGATOR ASHTON-KIRK, SECRET AGENT ASHTON-KIRK, SPECIAL DETECTIVE ASHTON-KIRK, CRIMINOLOGIST