Part 32 (1/2)

Mrs. Bognor screamed.

”What was that?” she asked quickly.

”It sounded,” Peter Ruff said, ”very much like revolver shot.”

”I see,” Sir Richard remarked, with a queer look in his eyes, as he handed over a roll of notes to Peter Ruff, ”the jury brought it in 'Suicide'! What I can't understand is--”

”Don't try,” Peter Ruff interrupted briskly. ”It isn't in the bond that you should understand.”

Sir Richard helped himself to a drink. A great burden had pa.s.sed from his shoulders, but he was not feeling at his best that morning. He could scarcely keep his eyes from Peter Ruff.

”Ruff,” he said, ”I have known you some time, and I have known you to be a square man. I have known you to do good-natured actions. I came to you in desperation but I scarcely expected this!”

Peter Ruff emptied his own tumbler and took up his hat.

”Sir Richard,” he said, ”you are like a good many other people. Now that the thing is done, you shrink from the thought of it. You even wonder how I could have planned to bring about the death of this man. Listen, Sir Richard. Pity for the deserving, or for those who have in them one single quality, one single grain, of good, is a sentiment which deserves respect. Pity for vermin, who crawl about the world leaving a poisonous trail upon everything they touch, is a false and unnatural sentiment.

For every hopelessly corrupt man who is induced to quit this life there is a more deserving one, somewhere or other, for whom the world is a better place.”

”So that, after all, you are a philanthropist, Mr. Ruff,” Sir Richard said, with a forced smile.

Peter Ruff shook his head.

”A philosopher,” he answered, b.u.t.toning up his notes.

CHAPTER IX. THE PERFIDY OF MISS BROWN

Peter Ruff came down to his office with a single letter in his hand, bearing a French postmark. He returned his secretary's morning greeting a little absently, and seated himself at his desk.

”Violet,” he asked, ”have you ever been to Paris?”

She looked at him compa.s.sionately.

”More times than you, I think, Peter,” she answered.

He nodded.

”That,” he exclaimed, ”is very possible! Could you get ready to leave by the two-twenty this afternoon?”

”What, alone?” she exclaimed.

”No--with me,” he answered.

She shut down her desk with a bang.

”Of course I can!” she exclaimed. ”What a spree!”

Then she caught sight of a certain expression on Peter Ruff's face, and she looked at him wonderingly.

”Is anything wrong, Peter?” she asked.