The Mark of Cain

by Carolyn Wells

  CHAPTER XX FLEMING STONE

  That same evening, Judge Hoyt went to see Avice, and he acknowledged thathe was about at the end of his resources.

  "Then you have failed?" said the girl.

  "Not yet. But I shall, undoubtedly, unless--"

  "Unless you resort to dishonest means?"

  "Yes; exactly that. I don't want to, and yet,--for _you_ I would perjuremy soul!"

  "What would it be, this dishonest procedure?"

  "I'd rather not tell you. It would be better all round that you shouldn'tknow."

  "But I _must_ know. Tell me."

  "I've not thought it all out." Hoyt passed a weary hand over his brow."For one thing, the worst point against Landon is that person whotelephoned and called Mr. Trowbridge 'uncle'. If I could get some one toswear that he did that, it would go a long way in Landon's favor."

  "Some one who didn't really do it, you mean?"

  "Yes, of course. It would be perjury, and it would have to be handsomelypaid for."

  "How wicked!"

  "Don't think for a moment that I don't realize the wickedness of it! Even_you_ can have no idea what such an act means to a man, and a lawyer. Ahitherto _honorable_ lawyer! Oh, Avice, what a man will do for a woman!"

  "I'm not sure I want you to."

  "You want Kane freed?"

  "Yes, oh, _yes_!"

  "By fraud, if necessary?"

  "Y--yes."

  "Avice, you are as bad as I am! For one we love, we stop at nothing! Youwould perjure your soul for Landon; I, for you! Where's the difference?"

  "I won't, Leslie. I can't! Don't do that awful thing!"

  "And let Landon be convicted?"

  "Oh, no, no! Not that! But wait, Leslie, I have a new plan."

  "Oh, yes, I forgot you were going to save Landon by your own exertions!"

  "And I am. Have you ever heard of Fleming Stone?"

  "Of course I have. Why?"

  "I'm going to get him to find the murderer."

  "Avice! what nonsense. You mustn't do any such thing!"

  "Why not?"

  "Because it is absurd. We already have Duane on the case. He is awell-known detective and would resent the employment of another."

  "Do you suppose I care for that? If Fleming Stone can free Kane he shallhave a chance to do so! I have fifty thousand dollars of my own, and I'llspend it all, if necessary."

  "It isn't the cost, dear. But one detective can hardly succeed whereanother good one failed. And, too, it is too late, now. A detective mustwork before clues are destroyed and evidence lost."

  "I know it is late, but Stone is so clever. He can do marvels."

  "Who told you so?"

  "I won't tell you." For Avice knew if she said either Fibsy or theclairvoyant, Hoyt would laugh at her.

  "Be guided by me in this, dear," said Hoyt, earnestly. "Don't send forthis man. He will do more harm than good."

  "Do you mean he will find out for sure that Kane did it?"

  "Never mind what I mean. But don't get Fleming Stone on this case, Iforbid it."

  "You're too late," returned Avice; "I've already written to him to comeand see me."

  "In that case, there is nothing more to be said. We must make the best ofit. But at least let me be here with you when he comes. I think he willwant a legal mind to confer with."

  "Indeed, I shall be very glad to have you here. Why were you so averse tohaving him, at first?"

  "Only because it is so useless. He can discover nothing. But if you wanthim, that's enough for me."

  The next evening Hoyt called on Avice again.

  "Heard from Stone yet?" he asked.

  "No, not yet."

  "Well, I don't believe you will. I hear he's out West, and will be gonesome weeks yet."

  "Oh, I am so disappointed! How are things going today?"

  "Slowly. But I am holding them back on purpose. I have a new plan, thatmay help us out a lot."

  But Hoyt wouldn't divulge his new plan, and when he left, Avice washeavy-hearted. She was more than willing to do anything for Kane that wasright, but she recoiled at perjury and deceit. And yet the thought ofKane's conviction brought her to the pitch of any awful deed.

  So, when, the morning after she lost her hope of seeing Fleming Stone,Fibsy came to see her, she welcomed the boy as a drowning man a straw.

  "What about that Stone guy, Miss Avice?" he inquired, abruptly.

  "We can't get him, Fibsy; he's out of town."

  "Yes, he isn't! I seen him only yesterday, walkin' up the avnoo."

  "You did! He must have come home unexpectedly. I'm going to telephonehim!"

  "Do it now," said Fibsy, in a preoccupied tone. Avice found the numberand called up the detective.

  "Why, Miss Trowbridge," he said, after he learned who she was; "I had atelegram from you asking me to cancel the appointment."

  "A telegram! I didn't send you any!"

  "It was signed with your name."

  "There's a mistake somewhere."

  "'Tain't no mistake!" said Fibsy, eagerly, as he listened close to thereceiver that Avice held. "Tell him to come here now, Miss Avice."

  "Oh, I don't know about that. I must ask Judge Hoyt."

  "Here, gimme it!" and the audacious boy took the receiver from Avice, andspeaking directly into the transmitter, said;

  "'Twasn't a mistake, Mr. Stone. 'Twas deviltry. Can't you come right upto Trowbridge's now, and get into this thing while the gettin's good?"

  "Who is speaking now?"

  "Miss Trowbridge's seckerterry. She's kinder pupplexed. But she wants youto come, awful."

  "Let her tell me so, herself, then."

  "Here, Miss Avice," and Fibsy thrust the receiver into her hand, "tellhim to come! It's your only chance to save Mr. Landon! Take it from me!"

  Spurred by the reference to Landon, Avice, said, clearly; "Yes, pleasecome at once, Mr. Stone, if you possibly can."

  "Be there in half an hour," was the quick reply, and a click ended theconversation.

  "What kind of a boy are you?" said Avice, looking at Fibsy, half angry,half admiring.

  "Now, Miss Avice, don't you make no mistake. I ain't buttin' in here outo' freshness or impidence. There's the devil's own doin' goin' on, an'nobody knows it but me. It's too big for me to handle, an' it's too bigfor that Duane donkey to tackle. An' they ain't no one as can 'tend to itbut F. Stone. An' gee! you come mighty near losin' him! Why, Miss Avice,when you heard somebuddy wired him in your name not to come here, don'tthat tell you nothin'?"

  "Yes, Fibsy, it shows me some one is working against Mr. Landon'sinterests. And that is what Judge Hoyt has been afraid of all along. Iwish he were here."

  "Who? Judge Hoyt?"

  "Yes, I promised to have him here when Mr. Stone came. There ought to bea legal mind present."

  "Mine's here, Miss Avice; and right on the job. My legal mind is workin'somepin fierce this mornin' an' I kin tell Mr. F. Stone a whole lot thatJudge Hoyt couldn't."

  "Fibsy, I don't know whether to send you away, or bless you for beinghere." Avice looked at the boy in an uncertainty of opinion.

  "Now, Miss Avice, don't you worry, don't you fret about that. You'll beglad an' proud you know me, before this crool war is over! an' that ain'tno idol thret! _Bullieve_ me!"

  "Well, Fibsy, if I let you stay, I must ask you to talk to me a littlemore politely. I don't like that street language."

  "Sure, Miss Avice, I'll can the slang. I mean, truly I'll try to talkproper. It's mostly that I get so excited that I forget there's a ladylistenin' to me. But I'll do better, honest I will."

  Fleming Stone came.

  Avice received him alone, except that she allowed Fibsy to sit in thecorner of the room.

  "I am exceedingly interested in this case," Mr. Stone said, aftergreetings had been exchanged; "I have closely followed the newspaperaccounts, and I admit it seems baffling many ways. Have you anyinformation not yet made publ
ic?"

  "No,--" begun Avice, and then she looked at Fibsy.

  The boy sat in his corner, with eager face, almost bursting with hisdesire to speak, but silent because he had promised to be.

  "I know so little of these things," Avice went on, falteringly; "I hopedto have a lawyer here to talk to you. As a matter of fact, I was advisedto send for you by this boy, Terence McGuire. He was my late uncle'soffice boy."

  "Ah, the one they call Fibsy, and so discredited his evidence at theinquest!"

  "Yes," said Avice, "but he says he knows something of importance."

  "And I believe he does," said Fleming Stone, heartily. "I read about hiswitnessing, and I am glad of a chance to talk to him."

  Fibsy flushed scarlet at this interest shown in him by the great man, buthe only said, simply, "May I speak, Miss Avice?"

  "Yes, Fibsy, tell Mr. Stone all you know. But tell him the truth."

  "He won't lie to me," said Stone, not unkindly, but as one merely statinga fact.

  "No," agreed Fibsy, looking at Stone, solemnly. "I won't lie to you. Yousee it was this way, sir, I've got the detective instinck,--and the dayafter the murder, I went to the place where it was at, to look for clues.Miss Avice, she gimme the day off. An' I found 'em, sir. The Swede womantold me where the place was where--where Mr. Trowbridge died, and rightthere I found a shoe button."

  "Fibsy," and Avice looked at him, "why did you tell Judge Hoyt it was asuspender button?"

  "I had to, Miss Avice," and Fibsy's face looked troubled "you see I said_button_ to him and the 'xpression on his face warned my instinck not tosay _shoe_ button. So I switched."

  "Describe his expression," said Stone, who was watching the boy closely.

  "Well, sir, when he said 'what kind of a buttun?' he looked as if a heapdepended on my answer. An' when I said suspender button, he lost allinterest. Now, maybe he _had_ a int'rest in a shoe button an' maybe hedidn't. But I wasn't takin' no chances."

  "Fibsy, you've the right bent to be a detective!" exclaimed Stone; "thatwas really clever of you."

  But Fibsy was unmoved by this praise. "I sorta sensed it," he went on."Well, sir, that shoe button never came offen Mr. Landon's shoes, sir."

  "How do you know?"

  "I got around the chambermaid here in this house, sir, an' she hunted allover Mr. Landon's shoes, an' they ain't no buttons missin'; an' too, sir,this button is from a city shoe, a New York shoe. An' Mr. Landon, hewears western shoes. Oh, I know; I've dug into it good."

  "Well, whose button is it?"

  "I don't know, sir, but you can find out. I told Miss Trowbridge, sir, myclues was _clues_ only in your hands."

  "The button may be important, and may not."

  "Yes, sir," and Fibsy beamed "that's jest exactly what _I_ thought. Now,my other clue, sir, is this. I ain't got it here, but I got it safe home.It's a hunk o' dirt that I cut out o' the ground, right near the--thespot. You see, it has a print in it, a deep, clear print, sorta round.Well, sir, I'd like you to see it 'fore I describe it. I'd like to knowif it strikes you like it does me."

  The boy seemed all unaware of any presumption in the manner ofargumentative equality which he had adopted toward the famous detective,and, to Avice's surprise, Mr. Stone seemed not to resent it.

  "Were there other marks of this nature?"

  "Yes, several. I scratched them away with my foot."

  "You did! You destroyed evidence purposely! Why?"

  "Because I picked out the best and clearest, and kep' it safely. I wasgoin' to give it to Miss Avice or Judge Hoyt, but they all made fun o'me, so I didn't. They wasn't no use o' reporters muddlin' the case up.An' smarty-cat snoopers huntin' clues, an' all."

  "You took a great deal on yourself, my boy. You had no right to do it.But I will reserve judgment. It may well be you have done a good thing."

  "It was too many for me, sir. I couldn't sling the case myself. An' JudgeHoyt wouldn't pay no 'tention; an' that gink,--I mean--that Mr. Duane, heain't got no seein' powers so I says they ain't no one but you to take itup as it should be took up. An' glory to goodness you're here!"

  Fleming Stone smiled a little, but quickly looking serious again, said toAvice, "If you want me to work on this case, Miss Trowbridge, I willstart by going with this boy to look at his 'clues.' They may be of someimportance."

  Avice agreed, and the great detective and the small boy went awaytogether.

  "And so you are Miss Trowbridge's secretary?" asked Stone as they walkedalong.

  "No, sir, I ain't. That was one of my lies. I said it so's you'd come."

  "Look here, what's this about your lying habits? Is it a true bill?"

  "No, Mr. Stone, I've quit. That is, _practically_. But I've often found alot o' help in shadin' the truth now an then. But, shucks, they was onlyfoolishness, to fuss up people who oughter be bothered. An' any way, I'vequit, 'ceppen as it may be necess'ry in my business."

  "And what is your business?"

  "It's been bein' office boy, but I've always wanted to be a detective,an' since I've seen you, I know I'm goin' to be one. I have the same casto' mind as you have, sir."

  Stone looked sharply into the earnest face raised to his, and it showedno undue conceit, merely a recognition of existing conditions.

  "Terence," he said, quietly, "a good detective cannot be an habitualliar."

  "I know it, sir; that's why I've quit. After now, I'm only goin' to telllies when me work requires it. Just as you do, sir. You don't always tellthe strick truth, do you, sir?"

  Stone shot a glance at him and then smiled. "Let's discuss those ethicssome other time, Fibsy. Where do you live?"

  "Quite some way off, sir. I'll show you."

  "We'd better get a taxi, then;" and soon the two detectives were on theirway to Fibsy's humble home.

  Stone waited in the cab, while the boy ran in and out again with hisprecious clues.

  "I've kep' 'em careful," he said, "and the dirt ain't jarred nor nothin."

  First he produced the shoe button. "You see," he said, earnestly, "if itwas shiny all over it wouldn't mean much; but it's rubbed brown on oneside, so if we could find the shoe it came off of, we'd know it in aminute."

  "Good work," said Stone, quietly, "go on."

  "Well, sir, it ain't Mr. Landon's, cos he ain't got any shoes withbuttons the least mite like this, and as he came from Denver the daybefore the murder, he didn't have time to get some an' wear 'em to thisbrowniness."

  "It is a point, Fibsy."

  "Yes sir, that's all it is, a point. Now look at this mud."

  With great care, Fibsy opened a box and showed a piece of soil, aboutfour inches square, in the center of which was clearly defined roundhole.

  "I cut it out right near the 'spot'," said he, in the awed tone in whichhe always referred to the scene of the crime. "It's the mark of a--"

  "_Cane!_" said both voices together.

  "Yes sir," went on Fibsy, eagerly, "an' that ain't all! I saw the daisiesand clovers were sorta switched off all around the spot, as if bysombuddy slashin' a cane around careless-like. An' then," and the boy'sface grew solemn with the bigness of his revelation, "I seemed to see inmy mind a--what do you call 'em, sir?--a dirk cane, a sword cane, an'--"

  "_Cane_ killed me!"

  "Yes, sir! Oh, Mr. Stone, I knew you'd see it!"

  "Boy, you are a wonder. Even if your deductions are all wrong, you haveshown marvelous acumen."

  Fibsy had no idea what acumen was, nor did he care. He was not seekingpraise, but corroboration, and he was getting it. The mark of a cane wasperfectly clear and was unmistakable. It might mean nothing, but it was acane mark, and some canes were murderous weapons.

  "You have seeing eyes, child," said Stone, and Fibsy desired no greatercommendation.