Ashton-Kirk, Secret Agent

by John Thomas McIntyre

  CHAPTER IX

  OKIU ONCE MORE

  The Japanese nodded and smiled in his peculiarly meaningless fashion,the black, intent eyes going from one to the other.

  "I was getting a breath of air," said he, "and reading a favorite book,when I happened to see you here. I trust you are well?"

  "Quite well," returned Ashton-Kirk, with equal politeness.

  Okiu laid a heavy book upon a bench, patting it gently as he did so, asthough it were a living thing.

  "The old books," smiled he, and his voice was soft and purring, "arealways hard to handle. The ancient makers did not know their trade aswell as these of modern days. But," and the gracefully flexible handsgestured a pardon, "they had something to put into them. The old poetstold of wonderful things in most wonderful ways."

  "Every age has its own excellences," said the secret agent, "and perhapsmechanical efficiency _is_ the high mark of our own."

  "I fear that it is," said Okiu, in a gentle, regretful tone. "Even in myown country, once so peaceful and content with the old things, thisfierce desire to perform wonders has taken root. Everywhere you see thesign of the times--in the people, in the schools, in the governments,and," here Ashton-Kirk saw the heavy lids quiver over the intent eyes,"in the army and navy."

  "Ah, yes," said the secret agent; "the army and navy. We have heard ofthem."

  "And Russia," said Okiu, softly, "has also heard of them." Fuller, aflush staining his cheeks, was about to reply to this; but a look fromhis employer restrained him. And after a moment's pause, Okiu went on inanother tone: "Last night I offered my services if they were needed;to-day I repeat the offer, sir."

  "You are very good," said Ashton-Kirk. "But the police have the matterin hand; and they resent interference, as I have found."

  "I have read the morning papers with great attention," said theJapanese. "The matter as a whole is a most singular one. But, no doubt,the arrest of this young man, Warwick, will shed a light upon a greatdeal that is now shadowy."

  "It will explain some things, no doubt."

  "Some things!" The Japanese bent his head forward inquiringly. "Then youdo not think it will explain all?"

  "What I personally think," said Ashton-Kirk, "is of no greatconsequence."

  The other laughed quietly.

  "You are modest," remarked he. "And sometimes, if the real truth wereknown, the knowledge of the man who says little is of great value." Hestood back a trifle, the yellow, finely-kept hands softly clasped; theround, lineless face beaming like that of a child. "And for all I know,"he added, purringly, "you may know a great deal."

  "You are very kind to think so," said Ashton-Kirk, and the tone was soopen and pleasant that Fuller wondered if he had been at fault when hehad fancied that he had caught a second meaning in the words of theOriental.

  "I am only a student," resumed Okiu, "but I may be of assistance here.And since there is nothing that I can do for _you_, perhaps the policewould----" A gesture finished the sentence.

  "Mr. Osborne, who has charge of the matter, is at the gate--or was a fewmoments ago," returned the secret agent.

  "Thank you. I will speak to him."

  With a nod the Japanese left them and walked around to the front of thehouse; Ashton-Kirk, without a word of comment upon him or his sayings,bent down and once more studied the foot-prints. One spot in particularseemed to attract him; it was about five feet from the window and theground seemed a good deal scuffed and trampled.

  "Just here," said the secret agent, "the two who were within there spentsome little time in talk. There may have been some sort of analtercation between them; at least the indications are that they stampedabout more than is usual in an ordinary talk. After a space the man wentaround by the rear of the house, for here you see his prints lost in theconfusion. But the woman went the other way, as these three sharpimpressions indicate," pointing. "However, the grass becomes thickerhere and the sod tougher, and the signs fail. We can judge that shecontinued in that direction only by the fact that we fail to find anyreturning impressions."

  They continued here for a little longer, then they made their way to therear door and entered the kitchen.

  Old Nanon was busily scouring some pans. By the range sat Drevenoff.

  "Good-morning," said the secret agent, as he entered.

  "Good-morning," they both returned.

  Drevenoff arose and stood as though at their service. But the old Bretonwoman was as severe and erect as ever; her thin-lipped mouth was setfirmly, her keen gray eyes looked out from under the thick gray brows.

  "I am going to go over the house once more," said Ashton-Kirk, "but," tothe old woman, "I shall not ask you to accompany me this time."

  "You are not like the regular police, then," said she. "They had me upand down with them for hours. And the other----"

  "The coroner's man," suggested Drevenoff.

  "Yes, that is the one. He was even worse than the others. And thequestions! Mother of God! I never heard anything like them before."

  As the two young men passed through the kitchen Drevenoff spoke again.

  "Is there anything new, gentlemen?" he asked.

  "Nothing as yet," replied Ashton-Kirk.

  "I have read the papers," said the young Pole, "and I am sorry for Mr.Warwick. He was a good-natured man."

  "Good-natured!" said the old woman, in a tone of contempt "Ah, yes,good-natured."

  "I knew," said Drevenoff, "that he quarreled very often with the doctortoward the last, but I never thought it would come to this."

  Here the pan slipped from the old woman's fingers, upset the scouringpowder and fell to the floor. Muttering angrily she stooped to pick itup.

  "Quarreled!" said Ashton-Kirk. He paused in the doorway and looked atthe Pole with interest.

  "It was about Miss Stella, I think," said Drevenoff. "To be sure I knowvery little about it, and----"

  "You know nothing about it, Drevenoff," said the Breton woman. "If youknew Simon Morse," she continued, turning upon the secret agent, "youwould not wonder that any one had words with him."

  "Ah, no, perhaps not," said Ashton-Kirk, carelessly. "I understand thathis temper was not of the sweetest." He was about turning away when heasked of Drevenoff: "How are you getting?"

  "I'm better to-day than I have been for a week," was the answer. "But itwon't be for long. Before I came here I worked in a construction gangfor the Virginia and North Carolina Railroad and the worst of the linewas through low country. Sickness is thick down that way."

  "I hope I shall not disturb Miss Corbin," said Ashton-Kirk to Nanon. Shegestured in the negative.

  "She is sitting with Simon in the room opposite the one where he died,"said the woman. "She has been there for hours. She does not pray and shedoes not cry. She just sits and stares."

  The secret agent and his aide reached the second floor by the rearstairs; as they paused by a window which overlooked the house occupiedby Okiu, Fuller said:

  "There is something which I have been turning over in my mind for thepast hour; it occurred to me as soon as we reached here this morning. Doyou recall that first drawing which Warwick showed you? It was the onewhich looked like this."

  With his forefinger the young man drew upon the dust of the window glassthe design:

  "From the very first," said Fuller, "that thing struck me as being asort of ground plan, so to speak. As you stood talking with Osborne awhile ago, I got looking about. It seemed to me that Okiu's house andthis one were very much of a size and that the connecting plots ofground were very long and very narrow. Here," and Fuller indicated oneof the squares at the end of his drawing, "might be Okiu's house, andhere," pointing to the second square, "might be that of Dr. Morse. Theintervening space might be the adjoining lawns."

  Ashton-Kirk looked at the speaker, a curious light in his eyes.

  "I wonder," said he, "how far you are from the truth?"

  Fuller entered the bathroom to remove the dust from his finger-tips; andas he was toweling bri
skly away he caught a glimpse, through the partlyopen door of a closet, of a pair of soiled shoes. In an instant he hadthem out.

  "By George," he breathed, "here's a find."

  The shoes were light and made upon a slim, well-shaped last; the heelswere high, the instep arched; except for a caking of yellowish lookingsoil about the edges of the soles they were the quintessence of feminineelegance.

  "That is the color of the soil outside there," said Fuller, "and theonly person in this house to whom they could belong is Miss Corbin."

  Ashton-Kirk took the shoes in his hand and examined them carefully atthe bathroom window, which stood open. Fuller, watching him expectantly,saw his lips forming the first words of a reply. But it was neveruttered. Something without attracted him, for he put down the shoes andprotruded his head from the window. The latter overlooked the north sideof the house; and the secret agent leaned from it motionless for somemoments.

  At length, however, he drew in his head, and Fuller was surprised to seea perplexed look upon the keen face, a baffled eagerness in the singulareyes.

  "What is it?" he asked.

  Ashton-Kirk indicated the window silently. In turn Fuller looked out,and what he saw almost made him cry out. Okiu stood below; from a windowof the room in which Nanon had said she was watching the dead leanedStella Corbin, and the two were engaged in a low-pitched, earnestconversation.