Randall Parrish - Gordon Craig

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"Merciful God! and the body still there."

"No, but its disappearance only adds to the mystery. I dared not
create an alarm at once, as we were in a strange house, and I had no
means of knowing where to find either Coombs or the housekeeper. Nor
did I venture to leave you alone unguarded. As soon as daylight came I
went in there again to convince myself the murder was not a dream. The
man's body lay there undisturbed. I turned him over, and examined the
wound. Then I went out and found Coombs, who sleeps in one of the
negro cabins. He sneered at my discovery, but finally accompanied me
back to the house. I could not have been absent to exceed thirty
minutes, and yet, when we opened the door of that rear room, the body
had disappeared--vanished completely. Not a thing remained to tell of
any tragedy."

"It had been dragged into some other room; hidden away in some closet.
The woman did it."

"That was my thought at first. As soon as I got free from Coombs I
searched this floor, every inch of it, and found nothing, not even so
much as a stain of blood. The dead man was heavily built, and Sallie
could never have lifted him alone. There were others--men--concerned
in the affair."

"And you saw none?"

"Only a Creole who came down the bayou by boat just as I reached the
bank. He had some message for Coombs--a snaky-eyed little devil--but
he had nothing to do with the removal of the body, for he was not out
of my sight after he landed."

Bewildered consternation was clearly manifested in the girl's white
face, and yet there was a firmness to the lips that promised anything
but surrender. I was sufficiently a fighting man to comprehend the
symptoms, and my own heart throbbed in quick response to her
anticipated decision. For an instant she seemed to struggle to regain
her breath.

"Oh, how terrible! I can scarcely realize that all you have told me
can be fact. It sounds incredible, monstrous. Why, it is as if we
lived in a wild land, and another century. No novelist could conceive
of such a horrible condition. There were pirates along this coast
once--I have read of them--but now, in our age of the world, to even
dream of such a state of affairs would be madness. What can it mean?
Have you any theory?"

"Absolutely none; I am groping in the dark, without a single clew. All
I know is that Coombs is a big ruffian, but too cowardly to commit
murder. The Creole might, and I would n't trust Sallie with a knife on
a dark night, but, in my judgment, there are others involved about whom
we know nothing."

"You mean there is a band? that we have stumbled into a rendezvous of
outlaws?"

"I suspicion so. This plantation has been practically abandoned for
years. Even when the Judge was alive he lived in town, and could get
no negroes to work out here because they believed the place was
haunted. A bayou comes within a hundred yards of the rear of the
house, so concealed by trees and weeds as to be almost invisible until
you stand on the banks. We are only a little over twenty miles from
the Gulf. Altogether this would make an ideal hiding place for Mobile
or New Orleans thieves. I don't say this is the solution, but it may
be. More likely they will prove to be a local gang, smugglers, or
moonshiners with a touch of modern piracy on the side."

"What do you mean to do?"

The question was asked quietly, and I glanced at her, noting the color
had returned to her cheeks.

"I? Why remain and ferret it out, I suppose," and I laughed. "I was
never very good at running away, and really I must get at the bottom of
this affair. Coombs is going to have a talk with me later--intends to
make sure who I am, no doubt--and I may learn something from him during
the interview. Anyhow, I am just obstinate enough to stay it out."

"What about me?"

"You better return to town; a traveling man on the train said there was
a good hotel. Probably Coombs has some kind of a rig we can drive down
in. I 'll ask him after breakfast."

"Is it because you do not wish me with you?"

I hesitated slightly, confused by such direct questioning.

"I shall feel more free alone," I replied at last, "for I shall have
only myself to guard. I am used to taking care of myself. Besides,
this is likely to prove a rather unpleasant situation for a lady. You
must remember I propose to fight this thing out now in the open. I am
going to be Gordon Craig, and not a make-believe Philip Henley. The
scene has changed, and I 'm glad of it. I feel more like a man
already."

"And you conclude I can be of no help, no assistance--"

The cracked voice of Sallie came to us up the stairs, the unexpected
sound startling both.

"I reckon you all better com' down an' eat."

She stood in the light of the front door watching us, and we descended
the flight of steps without exchanging a word. The woman turned and
walked in advance into the dining-room.

"Where is Coombs?" I asked, looking about curiously.

"He done eat already, but I reckon he 'll be 'round 'gain after a
while. You all just help yerselves."

We endeavored to talk as we sampled the meal, directing our
conversation into safe channels, both obsessed with a feeling that
whatever we said would be overheard. The woman vanished into the dark
passage leading toward the kitchen, but no sound of labor reached us
from that direction, which made me suspicious that she lingered not far
from where we sat. I caught Mrs. Henley's eyes occasionally straying
in that direction uneasily. Yet she managed to keep up a sprightly
conversation, largely relating to the country we had traveled over.
Neither of us ate heartily, merely toying with the rather unpalatable
food, and, as soon as we dared, pushed back our chairs. It was a
relief to get out of the room, but as we stood a moment in the front
doorway, breathing in the fresh air, I noticed a giant form approaching
the house through the weeds.

"Coombs is coming already for his interview," I said hastily. "As it
may be stormy perhaps you had better retreat upstairs."

She glanced in the direction of his approach, and drew slightly back
into the shadow of the hall. There was a flush on her cheeks, and her
eyes met mine almost defiantly.

"I will go," she said quickly, "but I shall not leave this house while
you remain."

CHAPTER XVI

COMPELLING SPEECH

She was gone before I could speak, before I could even grasp the full
purport of her decision. I followed the flutter of her skirt up the
stairs, half tempted to rush after, yet as instantly comprehended the
uselessness of any attempt at influencing her. Even the short space of
our acquaintance had served to convince me that she was a woman of
resource, of character, and determination. If she felt it right to
remain no argument would be effective, or have the slightest weight.
Perhaps another night would change her mood, but now, in the sunshine,
her courage would hold steadfast. Even as these considerations flashed
across my mind, I heard the thud of Coombs' feet upon the steps of the
veranda. That he had been drinking I realized at a glance, and it was
equally evident that he planned to overawe me by brutal domineering.
In spite of every effort to control my expression I could not restrain
a smile at the manifest bluster of his approach.

"So yer 've got through eatin', hey," he began coarsely. "Whar 's the
female? Thought I saw her here."

"You did," I returned coldly, "but Mrs. Henley has returned to her
room."

"Mrs. Henley, huh! Think yer kin pull thet bluff over me!"

"What bluff?"

"Aw, this Henley racket you sprung last night--'bout yer being young
Phil Henley come back."

"Did I say that?"

"Yer shure did," eyeing me in some surprise. "I reckon my ears heard
all right. Why, what are yer this morning?"

"If I ever made any such claim as that, Coombs, it was merely to assure
our admittance. You were not overly-cordial, you know, and I did n't
propose having the lady walk back to town. It's different this
morning, and I am going to be just as frank with you as you are with
me. Is that square?"

"I reckon," uneasily, not yet able to gauge my purpose, and feeling his
bluff a failure. "I ain't got nothin' ter lie about so fur as I know.
Let's go inside, whar we kin have it out quiet like."

I followed him into the front room, and he kicked out a chair so as to
bring my face to the windows. As I sank into it I noticed a dusty
mirror opposite which gave me a dim reflection of the entire room.
Coombs shut the door leading to the back of the house, and sat down
facing me, his big hands on his knees. His effort to look pleasant
only made him appear uglier than usual.

"Wal, go on!" he said gruffly.

I crossed my legs comfortably, and leaned back in the chair, quite
conscious of thus adding to his irritation. If I could only anger the
fellow sufficiently he might blurt out something of value. Anyhow, my
best card was cool indifference.

"There is not much to say," I replied deliberately. "I 'll answer your
questions so far as I think best, and then I 'll ask a few of you. The
lady upstairs is Viola Henley, the wife of Philip Henley. She has come
down here to take legal possession of this property. That is the
situation in a nutshell. I am merely accompanying her to make sure
that she gets a square deal."

His jaw sagged, and his eyes wandered.

"Oh, hell," he managed to articulate. "What is your real game?"

"Exactly as I have stated it, Coombs. To the best of my knowledge
Philip Henley is dead--at least he has disappeared--and his widow is
the rightful heir to this estate."

"Wal, I reckon he ain't dead--not by a jugful."

I felt the hot blood pump in my veins. Did the man know this to be
true, or was he merely making the claim for effect?

"That, of course, remains to be proven," I returned smilingly.

"Oh, does it, now! So does this yer wife business, to my thinkin'.
Wal, it won't take long ter settle the matter, believe me. Who are you
enyhow?"

"My name is Craig--Gordon Craig."

"A lawyer?"

"Not guilty."

"A damn detective?"

"Same plea."

I thought he gave a grunt of relief; anyhow there was more assurance in
his manner, a fresh assumption of bullying in his voice.

"All right, then; I reckon I got yer number, Craig. Yer after a little
easy money. Somehow yer caught onto the mix-up down yere, an' framed
up a scheme to cop the coin. Might hav' worked too if I had n't been
on the job, an' posted. Damn nice-lookin' girl yer picked up--"

"Drop that, Coombs!" I interrupted sharply, leaning forward and staring
him in the eyes. "Let loose all you care to about me, but cut out the
woman!"

"Oh, too nice, hey!"

"Yes, too nice for you to befoul even with your tongue. If you mention
her name again except in terms of respect there is going to be trouble."

He laughed, opening and closing his big hands.

"I mean it," I went on soberly. "Don't think I am afraid of you, you
big slob. No, you keep your hands where they are. If it comes to a
draw you 'll find me quick enough to block your game. Now listen."

Had I been less in earnest, or less puzzled as to the real situation, I
would have laughed at the expression upon the man's face. With hat
pulled over his eyes, he sat stiff, staring at me, his fingers
twitching nervously, unable to determine just the species confronting
him. I made no display of a weapon; he could not be sure that I was
armed, yet my right hand was hidden in the side pocket of my coat. I
could read the doubt, the indecision in his mind, as plainly as though
expressed in words. The brute and the coward struggled for mastery.

"I 've told you the truth about who we are, and our purpose in coming
here," I went on slowly and clearly, "because I have decided to fight
in the open. Now I want to know who you are? What authority you have
on the Henley plantation? Speak up!"

The reply came reluctantly, but there must have been a sternness in my
face which compelled an answer.

"I told yer--I 'm the overseer."

"A fine specimen, from the looks of the place; what was you ordered to
grow--weeds?"

"Thet 's none o' your business."

"It 's the business of the lady upstairs, Coombs, and I am representing
her at present. It will be just as well for you to be civil. Who
appointed you to this position--the administrators?"

"I reckon not."

"Ever hear of a man named Neale, P. B. Neale?"

"No."

"Or Justus C. Vail?"

He shook his head.

"No one sent you any word then that we were coming? or gave you any
orders to look after us?"

The blank expression of his face was sufficient answer. I waited a
moment, thinking, endeavoring to determine my next move. This
knowledge made one thing clear--we were playing a lone hand. As well
planned as was the scheme of those two conspirators they had reckoned
without sufficient knowledge of the existing conditions here. But was
this true? Would villains as shrewd as they be guilty of such neglect?
Besides, they had assured me that the overseer would be notified of our
coming. Suddenly there flashed back to my memory a picture of that
murdered man in the rear room. Could he be the connecting link? the
overseer sent by Neale? If this horrible suspicion was correct it only
proved the desperate character of those against whom I contended. And
if true only the harshest measure would compel Coombs to acknowledge
the truth. I drew in my breath, every nerve braced for action. Then I
jerked the revolver from my pocket, and held it, glimmering ominously
in the light, across my knee.

"You probably have some reason for lying to me," I said coldly, "and
now I am going to give you an equally good reason for telling the
truth. What do you know about the administrators of this estate?"

He was breathing hard, his eyes on the shining barrel.

"There is one named Neale, is n't there?"

"I--I reckon so."

"How do you know?"

"Wal," feeling it useless to struggle against the argument presented by
the blue steel barrel, "Hell, all I know is a fellow com' 'long yere a
while back with a paper signed Neale, thinkin' ter take my job."

"What happened to him?"

"Oh, he just nat'ally got kicked out inter the road, an' I reckon he 's
a running yet. He was a miserable Yankee runt, an' I did n't hurt the
cuss none to speak of. What yer askin' all this fer enyhow," he
questioned anxiously, "an' a drawin' that gun on me?"

"It seemed to be the only available method for extracting information.
Pardon my insistence, Coombs, but was n't that dead man up there the
fellow Neale sent?"

"Not by a damn sight," and I could see the perspiration break out on
his forehead. "Why, there wan't none enyhow. That guy skipped out
North agin."

"All right; we'll let it go this time. Now one more question and I am
done. Under whose orders are you in charge here?"

He was so long in answering, his eyes glaring ugly under heavy brows,
that I elevated my weapon, half believing he meditated an attack.

"You 've got to answer, Coombs," I said sternly, "or take the
consequences. I 'm in dead earnest."

Suddenly I became aware that his glance was not directly upon me, and I
lifted my own eyes to the surface of the tarnished mirror behind where
he sat. It reflected the large portrait of the late Judge Henley
hanging on the opposite wall, and--by all the gods!--I thought I saw it
move, settle back into position! I was upon my feet instantly,
swinging aside into a better situation for defense. Perhaps that
seeming movement, swift and elusive, might be a figment of imagination,
a mere trembling of the glass. But I was taking no chances. The very
conception of some hidden peril threatening me from behind awoke the
savage in me instantly. Before Coombs could realize what had occurred
I had the gun muzzle at the side of his head.

"Now answer," I commanded sharply. "Whose orders put you here?"

He choked, shrinking back helpless in the chair.

"By God! you won't always have the drop on me--"

"Well, I have now. Speak up; who is the man?"

His eyes ranged along the wall, an expression in them like that of a
whipped cur.

"Philip Henley," he whispered, so low I scarcely caught the name.

"What!"

"Wal, I told yer," he growled resentfully. "Yer kin believe er not
just as you please, but, so help me, that's the truth. I reckon I
know."

As I stared at him, half believing, half incredulous, I became
conscious that she stood in the hall doorway. Coombs lifted his head,
glad of any respite, and I glanced aside also, dropping the revolver
back into my coat pocket.

"You--you were quarreling?" she asked, coming into the room, "you were
so long I became anxious, and came down."

"Nothing serious," I assured her, smilingly. "Coombs here was a little
reluctant to impart information, and I was compelled to resort to
primitive methods. The result has been quite satisfactory."

"Kin I go now?" he asked uneasily.

"Yes, by way of the front door."

I watched his great hulking figure until he disappeared along the path
leading around the house. I had no fear that he would ever face me
openly; all I needed to guard against was treachery. Then I turned and
looked into the questioning eyes of the woman.

"What did you learn? What did he say?"

"Only one thing of real importance," I answered in subdued tone, "and I
dragged that out of him by threat. He was not employed by Neale, and
the fellow who was sent down here to assist us was disposed of in some
way."

"Killed, you mean?"

"I suspect as much, but Coombs claims he was kicked off the place, and
returned North."

For a moment she stood silent, breathing heavily, her eyes on my face.
In the pause I saw again the picture of the old Judge, and remembered.

"Why is he here then? What authority has he?"

"Come outside into the garden, and I will tell you the whole story.
Somehow I feel here as though we were being watched every minute.
Never mind a hat; we will find shade somewhere."

CHAPTER XVII

CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE

In front of the veranda, and to the right of the brick walk, the
latticework of a small summerhouse could be discerned through a maze of
shrubbery and weeds. No path led toward it, yet we made the difficult
passage, by pressing aside the foliage, and discovered a rustic seat
within, where we were completely screened from observation. I felt the
slight trembling of the woman's form from suppressed excitement, but
the adventure with Coombs had only served to stiffen my nerves. With
flushed cheeks, and eyes bright and questioning, she could scarcely
wait for me to begin.

"Now tell me; surely we are out of sight and hearing."

"I do not think I shall ever be entirely assured as to that until I
know more of our exact situation," I replied, speaking cautiously. "We
may have been seen coming here, and those weeds would easily conceal an
eavesdropper. The truth is, I have gained very little information of
value, and am as mystified as ever. If that fellow told the truth it
is beyond my understanding."

"But you are sure he knows nothing of those men who sent you here?"

"Yes, he had never heard of Vail, and all he knew about Neale was that
name was signed to the orders of the new overseer."

"Under what authority is the man acting?"

I hesitated, not venturing to look at her, conscious of a personal
feeling which I must conceal.

"Do you not wish to tell me?"

"It is not that," I hastened to explain, but finding the words hard to
speak. "I think he lied, and yet cannot be sure. He claims to be
working under the orders of Philip Henley."

"What! Impossible!"

"So I felt, and consequently hesitated to tell you, but now that I have
been compelled to do so, I will explain in full. He said this under
the menace of a revolver, a condition which often inspires men to speak
the truth. I can scarcely imagine his making up such a story, for he
is a dull-witted fellow, and even before he had threatened to test your
claims to be Henley's wife."

"You told him, then?"

"Everything, except the original cause of our being here. I determined
this morning to fight in the open, under my own name. That is the
right way, is it not?"

"Yes, I think so," and she lifted her eyes to mine.

"I like you better for that."

"I think I like myself better also," I said with a laugh. "I confess I
did n't care much at first. The whole affair merely represented a
lark, an adventure with me. But after what you said the night of our
arrival I began to view the thing in a new light, and to despise my
part in It. Yet even then I felt bound to carry out my agreement. It
was only when you told me your identity, that I felt free to decide
otherwise."

"Why should that make such a difference? If I had not been the one,
then it would have been some other woman defrauded."

"True, but a mere unknown, a shadow. Besides, I had no reason
previously to know that a fraud was contemplated--those rascals told a
most plausible story, leaving me to believe I served the real heirs.
Now I comprehend their true purpose and--and, well, knowing you it has
become personal."

"I do not altogether understand."

"Why, it is simply this," I went on desperately, "I want to serve you,
and I want you to respect me. Down in your heart you have n't really
been assured that I was not one of that gang of conspirators. You came
down here to watch me. Now I am going to stand up as Gordon Craig, and
fight it out for you."

There was a knot of blue ribbon at her throat, and I reached out and
unpinned it before she had time to protest.

"See, there are your colors, and I do battle under them. Whatever the
final results you are never going to doubt me any more--are you?"

Her eyes were veiled by long lashes, and I could see the heaving of her
breasts.

"No--no. I scarcely think I ever did doubt you, only it was all very
strange. Nothing seemed real; it was more like a stage-play in which I
acted a part--our first meeting, our being thrown together on this
quest. I have not known what to think, even of myself."

"We are both getting our heads above the mist now," I interrupted
gently, "and deep as the mystery appears, when finally solved it will
likely prove a very sordid, commonplace affair. The main thing is for
us to thoroughly understand and trust each other."

"You need not doubt me."

"I have already learned that. It is more important that you fully
trust me."

"I do," and both her hands were impulsively extended. "I have from the
very first. I did not come here to watch, but because I believed in
you. Truly this was my motive rather than any thought of the property.
Indeed I hardly realized at the start that this was my affair; I merely
had a feeling that you needed me. That--that morning on the bench,"
she paused, her voice choking in her throat, her eyes misted, "why,
I--I was scarcely rational; my mind could not even grasp clearly what
you endeavored to tell. I was so far from being myself that I failed
to recognize my own name. Perhaps that was not strange as I always
lived under another. So it was not that, not any selfish motive, which
impelled me to accompany you. I came because--because I knew you
needed me. I had an intuition that you were going into danger, into
some trap. I cannot explain, no woman can, how such knowledge lays
hold upon her. I merely acted instinctively. It was not until that
afternoon that I realized clearly what this all meant to me personally.
I seemed to wake up as from a dream. Then I sat down in the rest room
of one of those big department stores, and thought it all out. At
first I determined to tell you everything, but I did--did not know you
at all. I trusted you, I believed in you; you had impressed me as
being a real man. But this was merely a woman's intuition. There were
circumstances that made me doubt, that compelled caution. I--I had to
test you, Gordon Craig."

"My only wonder is that you retained any confidence."

"Oh, but I did," she insisted warmly. "That alone brought me here. I
thought of appealing to a lawyer, to the police, and then your face
rose up before me, and my decision was made. I came back to you that
night because--because I believed you to be a gentleman."

"And now? henceforth?"

Her eyes never wavered, although there was a high color in her cheeks
as my hands clasped her own more closely.

"I am convinced I chose aright. You are the man I thought you to be.
I am glad I came."

For an instant the hot blood coursed through my veins; I seemed to see
only the beauty of her flesh. Wild words leaped to my lips, only to be
choked back unspoken, although I scarcely knew what strength combined
to win the swift struggle. Impulse, made with sudden revelation of
love, swept me perilously near to outburst, yet reason held
sufficiently firm to restrain; the flood of passion. I knew I must
refrain; I read it in the calm depths of those eyes fronting me in
frank friendship. A word, a single, mad, ill-considered word, would
sever the bond between us as though cleft by a sword. With any other I
might have dared all, but not with her. Reckless as my nature had
grown in the hard school of life, I shrank from this test, dreading to
see her face change, her attitude harden. And it would; there had
already been sufficient revealment of her character to make me aware of
how firm a line she drew between right and wrong. It was not in her
nature to compromise. She trusted, me--yes! But as a "gentleman."
Should I fail in that test of her faith I could never again hope to
regain my place in her esteem. I have wondered since how I ever won
that swift, deadly battle; how I ever crushed back the wild passion,
the mad impulse to clasp her In my arms. Yet, under God's mercy I did,
my voice emotionless, my face white from restraint, my lips dry as with
fever. The one thing I was sure about just then was that we must break
away from this personal conversation; flesh and blood could stand the
strain no longer.

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