Part 34 (2/2)

He recalled Braceway's statement that he had been engaged to marry Maria Fulton. Could it be that she still loved him, and that the engagement to Morley, her helping him financially, had been all a pretense, the pitiful product of pique toward Braceway to show him she cared nothing for him?

And now she wanted to help Braceway, not Bristow?

He decided to ignore that part of the situation. The obvious incrimination of Withers gave him enough to think about. He was sorry it had happened. He did not believe there was the shadow of a case against him.

He rose and handed the watch to Miss Fulton.

”No,” she objected; ”I don't want it. You and Mr. Braceway, perhaps, will make use of it.”

He hesitated before putting it into his pocket.

”Why did you send for me, Miss Fulton?” he asked, after thanking her for doing so. ”Why me instead of your lawyer, Judge Rogers?”

”He would have forbidden me to talk,” she answered simply; ”and I wanted to talk. I refuse ever again to carry around with me other people's secrets. It's too oppressive.”

”Have you told this to anybody else?--or do you intend to?”

”No; n.o.body; and I won't.”

”Now, one thing about Mr. Morley: do you think he has stolen money--from his bank, for instance?”

”Why, no! He was speculating--and losing. I'm glad you asked about him.

I shall never see him again--never!”

Bristow left her with the a.s.surance that he and Braceway would make the best possible use of her theory and the facts she had adduced. He walked slowly back to his bungalow, his limp more p.r.o.nounced than usual. He felt physically very tired.

But of one thing he was still certain: the strength of his case against Perry Carpenter. He chose to stick to that, much more stubbornly than Braceway had refused to consider minutely the exact situation of Withers in regard to the crime. If Withers had murdered his wife, circ.u.mstances were now ideally in his favour. The two men, unusually brainy, quick thinkers, who were recognized by the police and the public as able to bring punishment on the guilty man, had other and opposing theories--theories which they were resolved to ”put over,” to substantiate. As matters stood now, the story Bristow had just heard was hardly a factor. The detectives were busy with ideas of their own.

Maria Fulton, after the lame man had left her, lay back against her pillows and looked out the window with misty eyes. Counteracting the sorrow that had weighed upon her for two days, was her speculation as to how Braceway would receive the facts she had revealed.

Would he see that her course was one which she intended to be of help to him?--that, not knowing how he would treat a direct message from her, she had sent it to him through another?--that she desired, above all things, his success in the investigation?

”When I spoke to this man of Sam Braceway, my whole manner was a revelation of how I felt--a frank declaration! And, of course, he will tell him. If he doesn't----”

She called Miss Kelly.

CHAPTER XVIII

WHAT'S BRACEWAY'S GAME?

Braceway, keeping his promise to have another conference with Bristow, sat on the porch of No. 9 and watched the last golden streamers the setting sun had flung above the blue edges of the mountains.

He still carried his cane.

”What's your plan now, Mr. Braceway?” Bristow inquired. ”You think you'll follow Morley to Was.h.i.+ngton?”

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