V
The yellow light of the early June afternoon grew softer as it sankinto, and was absorbed by, the deepening dusk; but to Miriam Challoner,propped up with red silk cushions in a strange attitude of expectancy,these things had ceased to matter; for out of her life a living presencehad gone, leaving a void more harsh than death. For weeks now she hadpatiently waited, her ear strained at every sound, trying to associateit somehow with her husband's return; the servants seemed to tread ontiptoe, as they went about their duties; the house was curiously hushedas though listening, always listening.
The room that she was in was beautifully proportioned and panelled indull red; there were numerous divans well furnished with cushions andupholstered in the same hue as the walls; and as her eyes wandered overits rare pictures, bronzes and costly knick-knacks, she was reminded ofthe early days of her married life, when it had been her purpose to makethis--Lawrence's room--as attractive and pleasing to him as money couldmake it. Fate, indeed, had played havoc with their lives; nothing wasleft but the memory of the happiness that once had been hers.
"Oh, why doesn't he come!" she cried, an agony of despair in her voice,and began to pace the room in nervous agitation.
At that moment a man noiselessly entered the room. She did not hear himuntil, suddenly looking round, she saw Stevens, the butler, advancingrespectfully toward her. For an instant it startled her; disappointmentand embarrassment struggled within her; finally she asked somewhatfretfully:--
"What are you doing here, Stevens--I did not ring--I----"
Stevens held the silver salver before her, on which were severalletters. Taking them apathetically from him, she sank back limp amongthe cushions, her nerves on edge as she proceeded to scan each in turn.There were nine in all--the last of which she quickly tore open as thesole missive fraught with possibility. But she was doomed todisappointment; and handing them back to him, she told him to put themon the desk.
The man complied, and then stood quietly at attention.
"And, Stevens," she added falteringly, "send Foster to me at once."
Stevens turned on the instant and found Foster in a passage-way,shuddering.
"What's the matter with you?" he whispered, at the same time placing hisarm about her.
"What are you doing?" exclaimed Foster with indignation, but made noattempt to release herself from his embrace. "Don't you hear thenewsboys? What are they saying?" she went on, nestling closer to him."Listen!"
They did not have long to wait, for just then the hoarse, raucous voicesof the newsboys calling early specials reached their ears; but suchwords as were at first distinguishable seemed of no importance to them.Then like a bolt from the blue rang out the words:
CHALLONER CAUGHT IN CHICAGO!
"They've caught him!" the maid almost shrieked, pushing Stevensviolently away from her; and starting in obedience to her mistress'commands, she added sympathetically:--
"I hope she hasn't heard----"
And as fortune would have it Mrs. Challoner had not heard, but went onto inform the maid that she was going to her room to lie down for awhile, ending with:--
"There are some things which I wish you to attend to first, Foster."
On reaching her room, however, Mrs. Challoner abandoned her intention tolie down; apparently calm and collected, she took a seat near the lightand started mentally to place her house once more in order. Item afteritem she checked off from her memorandum upon her household pad until atlast, with her finger upon one hasty entry, she looked up and said:--
"Foster, ask Stevens if the stone masons have finished patching up thecellar wall; and then you may fetch me those letters I left on Mr.Challoner's desk."
Meanwhile, the French window looking on the rear porch in Challoner'sroom slowly opened, and a man quickly but stealthily entered, directedhis steps to the table-desk, switched on the green-shaded light there,picked up several letters and proceeded to scan each carefully inturn--just as Mrs. Challoner had done a few moments previous. Suddenlythe sound of footsteps reached his ears, and with the same movement thatcharacterised his entrance he retreated to the balcony and disappeared,leaving the French window open behind him. The night was cool, there wasa strong breeze from the east, and the chill, spring air poured into theroom.
When Foster came into the room a little while later, she saw at oncethat the green-shaded light on the table-desk had been switched on, andthat the letters that her mistress sent for were not there. Then all ofa sudden she noticed that the window was open and there was a generalair of mystery about the room. She fled into the hall and called:--
"Stevens! Stevens!"
Stevens, who dogged the maid's footsteps and who was generally to befound in her vicinity, was soon on the scene.
"See! The window's open!" she whispered tremblingly.
Stevens shook his head.
"I locked it myself," he said, going over to it to examine the lock.
"It has been forced," he informed her, and beckoned to her to come andlook at it.
With the gloom which the newsboys' cry had cast over them, the sight ofthe broken fastening filled them with horror.
"Who did it?" wailed Foster.
Stevens stepped out upon the porch; there was no one there. He glancedinto the restricted space below; he saw nothing, heard nothing. So hestepped back into the room and closed the window, and looked at Fosterwith significance. Finally he answered:--
"One of those stone masons must have done it. He looked queer, actedqueer; that is, to me."
Foster caught him by the arm.
"Could he have anything to do--with the case?" she gulped.
Stevens pointed hastily about the room at various objects of valueeasily appropriated.
"Just like as not," he answered. "If it was a thief, he'd have takenthat an' that an' that----"
"Isn't it terrible!" gasped Foster; "and isn't it shivery and cold!" Sheseized a match, crossed over to the fireplace and lit the fire.
"What's that?" she started suddenly.
There was an almost unheard tinkle of an altogether unseen bell; andbefore its sound died away Stevens had stolen from the room and plungedalmost headlong down the stairs. Foster quickly followed him to thedoor, where she encountered Mrs. Challoner coming down the hall.
"I thought I heard the door-bell just now?" she asked; for whileoblivious to the noises of the street, there was little that occurredindoors these days that escaped her notice.
"Yes, ma'am," Foster stammered; "Stevens is answering it."
One glance at the maid's face, however, had sufficed to convince hermistress that something had happened; and for a moment it took all thecourage she could summon to her aid to keep her from breaking downcompletely.
"What is it? Speak!" she exclaimed in a tremulous voice; and thenwithout waiting for an answer, for the sound of voices in the hall belowreached her ears: "If that's somebody to see me, I don't want to seethem--I don't want to see anybody--I can't see anybody--I won't!..." sheended almost hysterically; and gathering her trailing skirts in herhands, she fled to her room.
But no sooner had she reached the door than Shirley Bloodgood followedon her heels.
"It's I, Miriam," she began; "and how are you, dear?" And withoutfurther ceremony she pulled off her gloves, tossed off her hat andplanted herself in a chair.
"I just simply couldn't stay away from you any longer," she declared. "Iknow you don't want me here, but I can't leave you."
Miriam Challoner sank weakly at a table and covered her face with herhands. Alone with the servants, she had borne up, but in the presence ofthe strong, sympathetic girl, Mrs. Challoner's courage vanished. Finallyshe leaned toward her visitor, and asked, a world of pathos in thequestion:--
"Is--is there any news outside?"
Shirley glanced at the fire sputtering in the grate; she hesitatedimperceptibly, then she answered:--
"None--I--I haven't seen the papers--no, there's nothing new."
Mrs. Challoner rose, st
aggered across the room to the girl and threw herarms about her.
"Shirley, Shirley, I'd have gone mad, I think, if you hadn't come!" shecried, and fell to sobbing; but after a moment she straightened upagain. There was a defiant look in her face now, a tremor in the voicethat said: "I don't care what he's done--I want Laurie to come back, doyou understand? I want him back--I want him...."
Shirley Bloodgood bit her lips.
"I know, I know, Miriam--I do understand----"
"Oh, but you can't understand," she persisted; "you haven't a husbandand you don't know ..."
"Yes, yes, Miriam, I know," were the only words that rose to the girl'slips to comfort her, for at that moment the faint sound of the insistentdoor-bell broke in upon them.
Mrs. Challoner's slight frame shook with sudden agitation as sheexclaimed:--
"That door-bell will drive me crazy!" And almost instantly recoveringher composure she gasped:--
"If it should be Laurie!"
The girl glanced at the smouldering fire in the grate, where to herexcited fancy in all their hideousness rose before her the headlines shehad read in the evening papers: "Challoner Caught In Chicago!"
"It isn't Laurie," Miriam went on; "no, of course not; but whoever itis, Shirley, you must see them for me--unless it should be--" shefaltered. "Then come back, but don't leave me to-night--you'll stay,won't you?"
"Yes," the girl assured her. "But you must promise me that you'll restfor a little while--there--on that sofa. Then we'll have a bitetogether, and----"
Without a word Miriam Challoner went over to the sofa, and soon gave wayto the first sleep she had had in many days.
"How are we ever going to break the news to her," sighed Shirley, as shenoiselessly crept from the room. Just outside of the door sheencountered Stevens, and quickly placing her finger on her lips, shemotioned him to be silent. When they were well out of hearing heannounced in a confidential tone:--
"Mr. Murgatroyd, Miss Bloodgood."
"Mr. Murgatroyd! William Murgatroyd? What does he want, Stevens?" Shewas plainly excited.
"Sh-h-h!" warned Stevens gently; "he's the prosecutor of the pleas."
"Oh, then it _is_ Mr. William Murgatroyd. But what does he want?"
Stevens shook his head, for they were now well in hearing. The nextmoment Shirley Bloodgood had entered the drawing-room and stood gazinginto the face of William Murgatroyd.
For an instant the man started back; he could not believe his own eyes.
"Shirley Bloodgood!" The name fell incredulously from his lips. "Youhere?"
Shirley held out her hand.
"And you--what are you doing here?" she asked quickly. "I didn't knowthat you were a friend of the family?"
Tall, well-built, with a smooth-shaven face, a square chin and a nosethat stood well out into the air, Murgatroyd was a man who appeared tobe without enthusiasm; but although sharp and business-like, his mannerwas easy. Turning to Shirley, he came to the point at once.
"I want to see Mrs. Challoner," he announced. "But I'm glad you're here,for I don't know her very well, and----"
"You can't very well see her now," Shirley interrupted, shaking herhead. "She's frightfully unstrung--she's ill. You know it's almost threeweeks now since Laurie first went away, and----"
"I know," he broke in just a bit impatiently.
"What?" Shirley gasped, the truth at last dawning upon her; "you don'tmean to say that you're here in--in your official capacity?"
Murgatroyd smiled grimly.
"It's the only capacity in which I'm likely to be here, Shirley," hereminded her.
"But," she protested, "I thought they left these things to----"
"The police," he finished; and again smiled grimly. "They do, but thereare reasons--You see," he went on to explain, "since I was appointedprosecutor of the pleas, I've turned up a thing or two in the PoliceDepartment, and, well, the Police Department and I are somewhat out oftune. This case they have put up to me and my men----"
"Surely you can't mean to imply that you have to do this kind of thingyourself?" The girl looked askance.
Murgatroyd raised his eyebrows.
"Yes, it's up to me...."
Shirley shifted her position. She didn't like Murgatroyd in this newrole, and yet there was something in the grim determination of the manthat pleased her.
"I am sorry to remind you," he went on, the full responsibility of hisoffice upon him, "that I am here to see Mrs. Challoner; to find outwhere Challoner is; to persuade her to persuade him to come back."Murgatroyd chopped out the sentences as though he were a machine.
"Then he wasn't caught in Chicago!" Shirley exclaimed almost jubilantly;and then touching him on the arm a bit familiarly, she added:--
"Billy, you don't really believe that Laurie murdered ColonelHargraves?"
Murgatroyd laughed a short laugh.
"If I didn't know you, Shirley, I should imagine you were sparring fortime.... If I didn't know you I wouldn't answer your questions. As itis, I must answer them in the same way that I would do anything youasked of me--short of crime."
"If you put it that way," returned Shirley, drawing away from him, hertone growing cold, "you needn't answer me at all."
Murgatroyd did not heed her.
"I don't know," he went on evasively, "whether Challoner murderedHargraves or not."
"You don't know ..."
"No," returned the prosecutor; "so far the evidence is purelycircumstantial."
Shirley Bloodgood had been hanging on his words. She drew a long breathand echoed excitedly: "Circumstantial--" There was a flicker of a smileon her face as she added:--
"Then the newspapers were wrong when they said it was a certainty!..."
Murgatroyd held up his hand and went on to explain:--
"What I tell you is confidential--you understand?"
"Yes, yes," she said impatiently; "but tell me about it--the realfacts--that is, if you can."
"There's no reason why I shouldn't, I suppose," said the prosecutor ofthe pleas. "The real facts as we have them ... as we have them, mind,are simple. Challoner quarrelled with Colonel Hargraves----"
"What about?" asked Shirley impulsively.
Murgatroyd flushed.
"That makes no difference," he answered with some confusion; "the pointis that they were enemies. It was a quarrel in which the passions ofeach were roused to the utmost. To make a long story short, ColonelHargraves won ten thousand dollars at Gravesend--the men met inCradlebaugh's--another quarrel followed----"
"And then?"
"Then," went on the prosecutor, "they parted. That was all--save at twoo'clock next morning Hargraves was found in the street back ofCradlebaugh's with a bullet through his heart."
Shirley was quivering with suppressed excitement; nevertheless, shemanaged to ask:--
"What does that prove?"
"Nothing--only a man named Pemmican of Cradlebaugh's witnessed bothquarrels--and Challoner has run away. Looks bad for Challoner, I shouldsay."
"But," persisted Shirley, "surely that evidence is not conclusive...."
"One moment, please," went on the prosecutor calmly; "Hargraves had theten thousand dollars in cash with him, and----"
"That is conclusive," she commented. "Surely you don't think Lawrencewould steal?"
Prosecutor Murgatroyd paused for an instant and placed finger-tipagainst finger-tip, then he answered slowly:--
"Frankly speaking, I do. I believe," he went on, speaking as though withconviction, "that Challoner would do anything."
Shirley shook her head.
"It's impossible! Why, the Challoners have any amount of money!"
Murgatroyd shrugged his shoulders.
"Challoner's wife has, but----"
"It's the same thing," Shirley protested; "and she just adores him--youdo not know how much she adores him, Billy!"
Again Murgatroyd shrugged his shoulders.
"But how about him?"
The girl shook her head and answered somewh
at sadly:--
"I know, I know, she's blind to everything, Miriam is ..."
Once more she placed her hand on Murgatroyd's arm, unconsciously,impersonally but impulsively.
"Oh, it's perfectly dreadful, the whole thing!"
Unwittingly, Murgatroyd changed his mood to meet hers.
"Yes," he said, "to have ruined himself like this! It's a tragedy to seea man like Challoner go down hill. In the old days he was such a decentchap."
"You were a friend of his, weren't you?"
"Yes, before he married, when he was poor and decent like the rest ofus--yes, I was a friend of his."
Shirley Bloodgood drew her brows together.
"Indeed! You must have been a good friend to let him take his downwardcourse."
For an instant this imputation seemed to rest heavily on Murgatroyd'sshoulders; but he cast it from him quickly with a sigh, and answered:--
"A man's best friends are like a man's good wife; they do not deserthim, whatever happens; he deserts them. And so it was with Challoner."
"And so at the last he has no friends?"
"Evidently not, save a flock of vampires that feed upon his purse andwill continue to feed so long as he has a purse." He pulled out hiswatch. "But," he protested, "I am wasting time--I--Oh, pardon me," hequickly corrected, flushing with embarrassment, "I did not mean my time,exactly; but frankly, I must see Mrs. Challoner."
Shirley shook her head.
"Miriam Challoner is ill, much too ill to see any one. She gaveorders----"
"Excuse me, but Mrs. Challoner is not too ill," persisted Murgatroyd,"to walk from room to room. My men have seen her through the windows. Iwish you would say to her, please, that I must see her."
Seeing the futility of resisting further, Shirley made a movement to go.
"Oh, I can't tell her!" she cried. "I'll ring for Stevens." She rang."Stevens," she said, as he came into the room, "will you tell yourmistress--Oh, I can't--I can't," she faltered.
Murgatroyd stepped into the breach.
"I am the prosecutor of the pleas," he said to Stevens, "tell her that,and that I'm sorry to disturb her, but I must see her."
The servant left the room. Shirley sank into a chair and half coveredher face with her hands.
"I don't believe--I never will believe that Lawrence did these things!"
There was a pause. After a moment Murgatroyd remarked half aloud:--
"There is but one way to reform a man like that----"
The prosecutor did not finish, for standing in the doorway was MiriamChalloner, pale as a ghost, a look of interrogation in her eyes. Shirleyran quickly to her.
"Miriam, dear, I didn't send for you!" she cried, placing an arm aroundher. "It was Mr. Murgatroyd...."
Mrs. Challoner bowed and smiled faintly.
"I believe I have met Mr. Murgatroyd before," she said with a gracepeculiarly her own.
Murgatroyd returned her greeting with:--
"I need not assure you, Mrs. Challoner, that this is a very painfulduty."
Mrs. Challoner moistened her lips and held herself together with greateffort.
"Please don't apologise," she said gently, "I understand. It may beeasier for me to have some one whom I've met."
Murgatroyd bowed; and placing a chair for Mrs. Challoner, begged her tobe seated.
"If you don't mind, Miriam," spoke up Shirley, "I'll leave you now, butif you need me--call me."
Miriam clutched the girl by the shoulder, and cried excitedly:--
"No, Shirley, stay where you are--I want you here with me!"
Murgatroyd placed a chair for the girl beside that of Mrs. Challoner; hetook a seat opposite.
"Mrs. Challoner," he began in a voice that was even more gentle than atany time before, "believe me that I've no desire to give you troubleunnecessarily."
"Please don't apologise," Mrs. Challoner repeated holding fast toShirley, as though she pinned her faith to that young woman.
"I shall begin at the beginning, Mrs. Challoner," he said. "I suppose,of course, that you have had the report that your husband has been foundin Chicago?"
"What! Found?" To the great surprise of the prosecutor no emotions otherthan joy and relief were visible on the woman's face.
"Laurie has been found!" she went on. "Thank heaven! I'm so glad--now hemust come back home."
"I had thought," said the prosecutor, in even, business-like tones,"that the news of his arrest would--would have been an unpleasant shockto you ... I find that the shock is yet to come."
Quick as a flash Miriam Challoner read the truth in the man's face.
"You don't mean--you can't mean that----"
Murgatroyd bowed.
"I have already told Miss Bloodgood that the report was a mistake. Yourhusband was not arrested in Chicago."
At that Mrs. Challoner really broke down. She sobbed silently on theshoulder of the girl beside her. "Oh, Laurie, Laurie, then you're notcoming home!" she cried. "Most three weeks, Shirley, he's been away!"
Murgatroyd waited patiently until she had recovered, never onceforgetting that he was the servant of the people. His was a double duty.He must apprehend the guilty, and so do it as to save the communitygreat expense. Of late murders had been expensive luxuries. Murgatroydknew that in this case he would be hampered by lack of funds.
"Mrs. Challoner," he said with simple directness, "the whole substanceof the matter is this: I believe--we believe that Mr. Challoner has notleft the East, and that he may still be here in town--in this houseeven." He had reseated himself, but suddenly rose again.
"In this house!" Miriam returned with a faint smile. "I wish he were,indeed I do wish he were----"
"Mrs. Challoner," the prosecutor went on, ignoring her words, "it isnecessary that my men, now while I am here, while you are here, shouldsearch these premises--this house----"
Shirley Bloodgood shook herself from the grasp of Miriam; she stooderect, her slender form tense.
"This is an imposition; it is preposterous, Mr. Murgatroyd, that youshould doubt her word!"
Murgatroyd was unmoved.
"It is necessary for my men to search this house," he repeated; and notunwisely, for he well knew that there is something that bringsmen--good, bad and indifferent men--back to their homes.
But Shirley was adamant.
"No, I won't allow it!" she exclaimed indignantly.
Mrs. Challoner placed a restraining hand on the girl, for MiriamChalloner once more held a strong grip upon herself.
"Search the house if you wish, Mr. Murgatroyd," she consented; "if youfind my husband, no one will be more pleased than I."
Murgatroyd left the room and returned almost instantly followed by twomen--Mixley and McGrath. It was one of these men a short while beforewho had stolen in through the French window and tampered with theletters on the desk.
"You will search here first," he ordered; and turning to the women:"Would you prefer to go or stay?"
"We'll go, of course," Shirley flung at him as she drew Miriam towardthe door.
"Of course not, we shall stay," said Miriam, freeing herself from thegirl.
The men passed in unceremoniously and proceeded to search theroom--places that even Miriam had forgotten about; they overlookednothing, but silently, quietly in their business-like way turnedeverything topsy-turvy, replacing things, in the end, as they foundthem. Presently they turned to their chief, and said:--
"It's all right, Prosecutor."
"Cover the rest of the house," again ordered Murgatroyd.
They grinned sheepishly.
"That's all done," they answered.
"What?"
McGrath nodded.
"Yes, while you were talking in here," he said, "we showed our shieldsand they showed us through." He drew near and whispered: "We thought itbest to take 'em by surprise; they hadn't no time to fix things, don'tyou see?"
"Nothing found?" asked Murgatroyd.
Simultaneously they shook their heads, and answered:--
"Nothing."
Murgatroyd waved his hand and commanded them to wait for him at thedoor, ending with:--
"I won't be a minute." And turning to Mrs. Challoner, he said a trifleapologetically: "My men tell me that your husband is not in the house.One thing more, however; if you know where Mr. Challoner is--"
"She doesn't!" snapped Shirley.
"If you know where he is," Murgatroyd repeated, ignoring theinterruption, "if you have any means of communicating with him----"
"She hasn't!" once more interposed the girl sharply.
"I want you to use your influence with him to make him come back. Hisflight amounts to a moral confession of crime. He has nothing to gain,you see," he went on to explain, "by staying away. He is bound to becaught; he cannot escape!"
"I want him to come back," stammered Mrs. Challoner. "Yes, yes, he mustcome back and face this charge. You--you don't think him guilty, Mr.Murgatroyd?"
Murgatroyd walked toward the door. If he had spoken his mind he wouldhave answered in the affirmative; but instead, he compromised with:--
"I don't know;" and abruptly left the house.
The Red Mouse: A Mystery Romance Page 5
