Part 36 (1/2)
His eyes closed in spite of his efforts. He was back in the darkness where he could only feel the warmth of Ricky's hands clasped about his.
CHAPTER XVI
RALESTONES STAND TOGETHER
”I like Louisiana,” drawled Holmes lazily from his perch on the window-seat. ”The most improbable things happen here. One finds secret pa.s.sages under houses and medieval war swords stuck in drains. Then there are 'things that go boomp in the night,' too. It might be worth settling down here--”
”Not for you,” cut in Charity briskly. ”Too far from the bright lights for you, my man.”
”Just for that,” he triumphed, ”I shall not return this lost property found under a cus.h.i.+on of the couch in the hall.”
At the sight of that familiar black note-book, Val s.h.i.+fted uneasily on his pillows. Rupert got up.
”Tired, old man?” he asked and reached to straighten one of his brother's feather-stuffed supports.
Val shook his head. Being bandaged like a mummy was wearying, but one had to humor two broken ribs and a fractured collar-bone.
”Sometimes,” replied Charity, ”you are just too clever, Mr. Judson Holmes. That does not happen to be my property.”
”No?” He flipped it open and held it up so that she might see what lay within. ”I'll admit that it isn't your usual sort of stuff, but--”
She was staring at the drawings. ”No, that isn't mine. But who--”
Ricky got up from the end of Val's cot and went to look. Then she turned, her eyes s.h.i.+ning with excitement. ”You're trying them again!
But, Val, you said you never would.”
”Give me that book!” he ordered grimly. But Rupert had calmly collected the trophy and was turning over the pages one by one. Val made a horrible face at Ricky and resigned himself to the inevitable.
”How long have you been doing this sort of thing?” his brother asked as he turned the last page.
”Ever so long,” Ricky answered for Val brightly. ”He used to draw whole letters of them when we were at school. There were two sets, one for good days and the other for bad.”
”And now,” Val cut in, ”suppose we just forget the whole matter. Will you please let me have that!”
”Rupert, don't let him go all modest on us now,” urged the demon sister.
”One retiring violet in the family is enough.”
”And who is the violet? Your charming self?” inquired Holmes.
”No.” Ricky smiled pleasantly. ”Only Mr. Creighton might be interested in the contents of Bluebeard's Chamber. What do you think, Rupert?”
At that audacious hint, Val remembered the night of the storm and Ricky's strange att.i.tude then.
”So Rupert's the missing author,” he commented lightly. ”Well, well, well.”
Charity's indulgent smile faded, and Holmes, suddenly alert, leaned forward. Rupert stared at Val for a long moment, his face blank. Was he going to retire behind his wall of reserve from which their venture underground had routed him? Or was he going to remain the very human person who had spent eight hours of every day at his brother's beck and call for the past few weeks?
”Regular Charlie Chan, aren't you?” he asked mildly.