Part 54 (2/2)

”I'm much obliged to you,” he said to Faust. ”I won't trouble you further; I'll see Farrell myself. Give me his address.”

That evening the Banker saw Farrell. ”There was a little crooked work over that thousand Faust got from you,” he said, ”an' if you could find time to go with me for an hour's run into the country, I think you could identify the guilty party.”

”I can go with you,” Farrell answered, ”but it's just a chance in a thousand. I should be on the block down at Sheepshead, but, to tell you the truth, the hot pace the backers set me at Brooklyn knocked me out a bit. I'm goin' to take a breather for a few days an' lay again' 'em next week. Yes, I'll go with you, Mr. Crane.”

In the morning the two journeyed to Brookfield.

”I won't go to the bank with you,” Crane said; ”I wish you would go in alone. You may make any excuse you like, or none at all. Just see if the man you got this note from is behind the rail. I'll wait at the hotel.”

In fifteen minutes he was rejoined by Farrell.

”Well?” he asked.

”He's there, right enough.”

”A short dark little chap?” questioned Crane, hesitatingly, putting Alan Porter forward as a feeler.

”No. A tall fellow with a mustache.”

”You are sure?”

”Dead sure, unless he's got a double, or a twin brother.”

Crane felt that at last he had got indisputable proof; evidence that would satisfy even Allis Porter. He experienced little exhilaration over the discovery--he had been so sure before--yet his hand was strengthened vastly. Whatever might be the result of his suit with Allis, this must convince her that Mortimer was guilty, and unworthy of her love. There was also satisfaction in the thought that it quite cleared Alan of his sister's suspicion.

How he would use this confirmation Crane hardly knew; it would come up in its own proper place at the right time, no doubt.

”We can go back now,” he said to Farrell; ”we may as well walk leisurely to the station; we can get a train”--he pulled out his watch--”in twenty minutes.”

Crane had made up his mind not to show himself at the bank that day. He wished to bold his discovery quite close within himself--plan his course of action with habitual caution. It meant no increased aggression against Mortimer's liberty; it was of value only in his pursuit of Allis Porter.

As they walked slowly toward the station Crane met abruptly the girl who was just then so much in his thoughts. Her sudden appearance quite startled him, though it was quite accidental. She had gone in to do some shopping, she explained, after Crane's greeting.

Farrell continued on when his companion stopped. A sudden determination to tell the girl what he had unearthed took quick possession of Crane.

His fine sense of reasoning told him that though she professed positive faith in Mortimer, she must have moments of wavering; it seemed only human. Perhaps his presiding deity had put this new weapon in his hands to turn the battle. He began by a.s.suring her that he had prosecuted the inquiry simply through a desire to establish the innocence of either Mortimer or her brother, or, if possible, both.

”You understand,” he said, quite simply, ”that Alan is like a brother--”

he was going to say ”son,” but it struck him as being unadvisable, it aged him. He related how he had traced the stolen note, how he had discovered it, how he had brought the bookmaker down, and how, without guidance from him, Farrell had gone into the bank and identified Mortimer as the man who had betted the money.

”It clears Alan,” he said, seeking furtively for a look into the drooping face.

The bright sun struck a sparkle of light from something that shot downward and splashed in the dust. The girl was crying.

”I'm sorry,” he offered as atonement. ”Perhaps I shouldn't have told you; it's too brutal.”

The head drooped still lower.

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