Part 26 (1/2)
”What's he done?”
”I've got to find that out. When I was here before, I knew he had some secret interest to which he was devoted, but I was too indifferent to find out what it was. Now I want to know. If I'm going to save him from the penalties of his crime I must know what the crime is. I think this man Joselyn is mixed up with it in some way, so go ahead and tell me all you know about him.”
Ingua obeyed. For more than an hour she earnestly related the story of Ned Joselyn, only pausing to answer an occasional question from her mother. When she came to that final meeting at Christmas week and Joselyn's mysterious disappearance, Nan asked:
”Do you think he killed him?”
”I was pretty sure of it till yest'day, when Josie told me a friend of hers had seen him alive an' well.”
”Josie O'Gorman?”
”No, Josie Jessup. She's the sewin'-girl over to Mary Louise's.”
”I know; but that girl has more names than one. Do you know her very well, Ingua?”
”She's my best chum,” declared the child. ”Josie's a dandy girl, an' I like her.”
”Have you told her anything about your gran'dad?”
”A little,” Ingua admitted, hesitating.
”See here,” said Nan, scowling, ”I'll put you wise. This red-headed Josie O'Gorman is a detective. She's the daughter of the man I work for in Was.h.i.+ngton--the a.s.sistant chief of the Department--and she is here to try to land your gran'dad in jail. What's more, Ingua, she's likely to do it, unless you and I find a way to head her off.”
Ingua's face depicted astonishment, grief, disappointment. Finally she said:
”Gran'dad didn't murder Ned, for Josie herself told me so; so I can't see what he's done to go to jail for.”
”He has counterfeited money,” said Nan in a low voice.
”Gran'dad has?”
”So they say, and I believe it may be true. Josie has wired her father that she's got the goods on Old Swallowtail and has asked that somebody be sent to arrest him. I saw the telegram and made up my mind I'd get the start of the O'Gormans. Dad won't run away. I've warned him they are on his trail and he didn't make any reply. But I wouldn't be surprised if he's gone, this very day, to cover up his traces. He's bright enough to know that if he destroys all evidence they can't prove anything against him.”
She spoke musingly, more to herself than the child beside her, but Ingua drew a deep sigh and remarked:
”Then it's all right. Gran'dad is slick. They'll hev to get up early in the mornin' to beat him at his own game. But I wonder what he does with the counterfeit money, or the real money he trades it for.”
”I think I know,” said her mother. ”He's chucked a fortune into one crazy idea, in which his life has been bound up ever since I can remember, and I suppose he tried counterfeiting to get more money to chuck away in the same foolish manner.”
”What crazy idea is that?” inquired Ingua.
”I'll tell you, sometime. Just now I see your friend Josie coming, and that's a bit of good luck. I'm anxious to meet her, but if she sees me first she won't come on.” As she spoke she rose swiftly and disappeared into the house. ”Stay where you are, Ingua,” she called from within in a low voice; ”I don't want her to escape.”
Josie was even now making her way across the stepping-stones. Presently she ran up the bank, smiling, and plumped down beside Ingua.
”Top o' the morning to you,” said she. ”How did you enjoy your first evening in society?”
”They were all very good to me,” replied Ingua slowly, looking at her friend with troubled eyes. ”I had a nice time, but--”
”You were a little shy,” said Josie, ”but that was only natural. When you get better acquainted with Mary Louise and the dear old Colonel, you'll--”