The Four Pools Mystery by Jean Webster (the dot read aloud .TXT) 📖

What did you do immediately after leaving the cave?"

"Strolled through the woods."

"For how long?"

"I don't know."

"How long do you think?"

"Possibly half an hour."

"Then what did you do?"

"Returned to the hotel, ordered my horse and rode home."

"Why did you not wait for the rest of the party?"

"Didn't feel like it."

The question was repeated in several ways, but Radnor stubbornly refused to discuss the matter. He had promised me, the last thing before coming to the hearing, that he would clear up the suspicious points in regard to his conduct on the day of the crime. I took him in hand myself, but I could get nothing more from him than the coroner had elicited. For some reason he had veered completely, and his manner warned me not to push the matter. I took my seat and the questioning continued.

"Mr. Gaylord," said the coroner, severely, "you have heard the evidence respecting your peculiar behavior when you returned to the hotel. Three witnesses have stated that you were in an unnaturally perturbed condition. Is this true?"

Radnor supposed it must be true. He did not wish to question the gentlemen's veracity. He did not remember himself what he had done, but there seemed to be plenty of witnesses who did remember.

"Can you give any reasons for your strange conduct?"

"I have told you several times already that I can not. I did not feel well, and that is all there was to it."

A low murmur of incredulity ran around the room. It was evident to everyone that he was holding something back, and I could see that he was fast losing the sympathy he had gained in the beginning. I myself was at a loss to account for his behavior; as I was absolutely in the dark, however, I could do nothing but let matters take their course. Radnor was excused with this, and the next half hour was spent in a consideration of the foot-prints that were found in the clay path at the scene of the murder. The marks of Cat-Eye Mose were admitted immediately, but the others occasioned considerable discussion. Facsimiles of the prints were produced and compared with the riding boots which the Colonel and Radnor had worn at the time. The Colonel's print was unmistakable, but I myself did not think that the alleged print of Radnor's boot tallied very perfectly with the boot itself. The jury seemed satisfied however, and Radnor was called upon for an explanation. His only conjecture was that it was the print he had left when he passed over the path on his way to the entrance.

The print was not in the path, he was informed; it was in the wet clay on the edge of the precipice.

Radnor shrugged. In that case it could not be the print of his boot. He had kept to the path.

In regard to the match box he was equally unsatisfactory. He acknowledged that it was his, but could no more account for its presence in the path than the coroner himself.

"When do you remember having seen it last?" the coroner inquired.

Radnor pondered. "I remember lending it to Mrs. Mathers when she was building a fire in the woods to make the coffee; after that I don't remember anything about it."

"How do you account for its presence at the scene of the murder?"

"I can only conjecture that it must have dropped from my pocket without my noticing it on my way out of the cave."

The coroner observed that it was an unfortunate coincidence that he had dropped it in just that particular spot.

This effectually stopped Radnor's testimony. Not another word could be elicited from him on the subject, and he was finally dismissed and Mrs. Mathers called to the stand.

She remembered borrowing the match box, but then someone had called her away and she could not remember what she had done with it. She thought she must have returned it because she always did return things, but she was not at all sure. Very possibly she had kept it, and dropped it herself on her way out of the cave.

It was evident that she did not wish to say anything which would incriminate Radnor; and she was really too perturbed to remember what she had done. Several other people were questioned, but no further light could be thrown on the subject of the match box; and so it remained in the end, as it had been in the beginning, merely a very nasty piece of circumstantial evidence.

This ended the hearing for the day, and the inquest was postponed until ten o'clock the following morning. So far, no word had been dropped touching the ha'nt, but I was filled with apprehension as to what the next day would bring forth. I knew that if the subject came up, it would end once for all Radnor's chances of escaping trial before the grand jury. And that would mean, at the best, two months more of prison. What it would mean at the worst I did not like to consider.

CHAPTER XIV THE JURY'S VERDICT

My first glance about the room the next morning, showed me only too plainly what direction the inquiry was going to take. In the farther corner half hidden by Mattison's broad back sat Clancy, the Washington detective. I recognized him with an angry feeling of discouragement. If we were to have his version of the stolen bonds, Radnor's last hope of gaining public sympathy was gone.

Radnor was the first person to be called to the stand. He had not noticed the detective, and I did not have a chance to inform him of his presence. The coroner plunged immediately into the question of the robbery and the ha'nt, and it was only too evident from Radnor's troubled eyes that it was a subject he did not wish to talk about.

"You have recently had a robbery at your house, Mr. Gaylord?"

"Yes."

"Please describe just what was stolen."

"Five bonds—Government four per cents—a bag of coin—about twenty dollars in all—and two deeds and an insurance policy."

"You have not been able to trace the thief?"

"No."

"In spite of every effort?"

"Well, we naturally looked into the matter."

"But you have been able to form no theory as to how the bonds were stolen?"

"No, I have no theory whatever."

"You employed a detective I believe?"

"Yes."

"And he arrived at no theory?"

Radnor hesitated visibly while he framed an answer.

"He arrived at no theory which successfully covered the facts."

"But he did have a theory as to the whereabouts of the bonds, did he not?"

"Yes—but it was without any foundation and I prefer not to go into it."

The coroner abandoned the point. "Mr. Gaylord, there has lately been a rumor among the negroes working at your place, in regard to the appearance of a ghost, has there not?"

"Yes."

"Can you offer any light on the subject?"

"The negroes are superstitious and easily frightened, when the rumor of a ghost gets started it grows. The most of the stories existed only in their own imaginations."

"You believe then that there was no foundation whatever to any of the stories?"

"I should rather not go into that."

"Mr. Gaylord, do you believe that the ghost had any connection with the robbery?"

"No, I do not."

"Do you think that the ghost had any connection with the murder of your father?"

"No!" said Radnor.

"That is all, Mr. Gaylord.—James Clancy."

At the name Radnor suddenly raised his head and half turned back as if to speak, but thinking better of it, he resumed his chair and watched the approach of the detective with an angry frown. Clancy did not glance at Radnor, but gave his evidence in a quick incisive way which forced the breathless attention of every one in the room. He told without interruption the story of his arrival at Four-Pools and his conclusions in regard to the ha'nt and the theft; he omitted, however, all mention of the letter.

"Am I to understand that you never made your conclusions known to Colonel Gaylord?" the coroner asked.

"No, I had been employed by him, but I thought under the circumstances it was kinder to leave him in ignorance."

"That was a generous stand to take. I suppose you lost something in the way of a fee?"

The detective looked slightly uncomfortable over the question.

"Well, no, as it happened I didn't. There was a sort of cousin—Mr. Crosby"—he nodded toward me—"visiting in the house and he footed the bill. He seemed to think the young man hadn't intended to steal, and that it would be pleasanter all around if I left it for them to settle between themselves."

"I protest!" I cried. "I distinctly stated my conviction that Radnor Gaylord knew nothing of the bonds, and I paid him to get rid of him because I did not wish him troubling Colonel Gaylord with any such made-up story."

"Mr. Clancy is testifying," observed the coroner. "Now, Mr. Clancy, as I understand it, you discovered as you supposed the guilty man, and instead of going to your employer with the story and receiving your pay from him, you accepted it from the person you had accused—or at least from his friend?"

"I've explained the circumstances; it was a mere matter of accommodation."

"I suppose you know what such accommodation is called?"

"If you mean it was blackmail—that's false! At least," he added, quickly relapsing into good nature, "it was a mighty generous kind of blackmail. I could have got my pay fast enough from the Colonel but I didn't want to stir up trouble. We all know that it isn't the innocent who pay blackmail," he added parenthetically.

"Do you mean to insinuate that Mr. Crosby is implicated?"

"Lord no! He's as innocent as a lamb. Young Gaylord was too smart for him; he hoodwinked him as well as the Colonel into believing the bonds were stolen while he was out of the house."

A smile ran around the room and the detective was excused. I sprang to my feet.

"One moment!" I said. "I should like to ask Mr. Clancy some questions."

The young man was turned over to me, plainly against his wishes.

"What proof have you, Mr. Clancy, that the bonds were not stolen while Mr. Gaylord was out of the house?"

"Well, my investigations led me to the belief that he stole them, and that being the case, it must have been done before he left the house."

"I see! And your investigations concerned themselves largely with a letter which you filched from Mr. Gaylord's coat pocket in the night, did they not?"

"Not entirely—the letter merely struck me as corroborative evidence, though I have since learned—"

"Mr. Clancy," I interrupted sternly, "did you not tell me at the time, that that letter was absolute proof of his guilt—yes or no?"

"I may have said so but—"

"Mr. Clancy, will you kindly repeat what was in that letter."

"It referred to some bonds; I don't know that I can recall the exact words."

"Then I must request you to read it," I returned, picking it out from a bundle of papers on the table and handing it to him. "I am sorry to take up so much time with a matter that has nothing to do with the murder," I added to the coroner, "but you yourself brought up the subject and it is only fair to hear the whole story."

He nodded permission, and ordered Clancy to read the letter. The detective did so amidst an astonished hush. It struck everyone as a proof of guilt, and no one could understand why I had forced it to the front.

"Now Mr. Clancy," said I, "please tell the jury Mr. Gaylord's explanation of this letter."

Clancy with a somewhat sheepish air gave the gist of what Radnor had said.

"Did you believe that story when you first heard it?" I asked.

"No," said he, "I did not, because—"

"Very well! But you