Part 30 (1/2)

”Oh, I don't know. But girls in our house are all older and wiser than a lot of giddy chorus girls. Why not suspect them?”

”Why suspect anybody? I mean, what do we care? In one sense, I'd like to see the death of Uncle Herbert avenged, but on the other hand I'd hate to see women's names dragged through the police court----”

”But if they were guilty?”

”That's just the point! Ten chances to one they wouldn't be. I mean those dunder-headed detectives are quite capable of getting the wrong ones and then railroading them through.”

”Perhaps so. But I think you ought to do more than you have done. Why, Rick,--if,--if you don't, first thing you know they'll suspect you!”

”What! Don't be foolish, dear. I'm not a woman.”

”I know, but some people think that's a blind,----”

”It can't be a blind. There's Uncle Bin's writing,--and I know him well enough to be sure that with his dying breath he didn't write anything but the truth. No, sir, women are responsible for that murder, and directly, too. Uncle Bin never flung that accusation at women if they were merely implicated. Now, don't you see, dear, that investigation must result in tragedy for _some_ women,--and, as I say,--probably not the guilty ones.”

”But it must be fastened on the guilty ones. They must be found----”

Dorcas' red lower lip quivered, and the big tears gathered in her eyes.

She strove to keep her calmness but she was rapidly losing control over her emotions.

”Why, Dorrie, darling, what is it? Tell me,--I'll do whatever you want,--whatever you say! Do you know something you haven't told me?

Something you don't want to tell me? What _is_ the matter, dearest?”

”That's it; I do know something,--or I fear something, I don't want to tell you,--at least not yet,--but----Rick, let's do something, you and me,--toward solving the mystery.”

”Oh, no, dear. Please don't mix your own sweet self into this horrid moil. I'll do what you tell me to, but don't dip into the trouble yourself,--I beg of you, don't!”

”Richard,” and Dorcas stood up, her face taking on a determined look, ”come on home with me, and go with me to talk to a woman,--one of the maids of the house. Don't interfere,--don't even interrupt, just stand by me, and be ready if I call on you for help.”

Bewildered, and not entirely willing, Bates consented and the two went back to The Campanile.

Unhindered by any message from Dorcas' mother or Richard's aunt, they went up in the elevator and on one of the highest floors, Dorcas sought out the head chambermaid's office.

”I want to know about Maggie and Jane,” she said, straightforwardly.

”Maggie is our chambermaid, and Jane is a friend of hers. I have a reason, that I don't wish to state at present, but I ask you frankly if those two girls are honest and reliable?”

The woman addressed hesitated.

”They are, miss, so far as I know. But I think it's my duty to tell you, that I've heard other whispers of complaint. We're very particular about the help in this house, and I can't keep any girl on, who's even so much as suspected. Have you any definite complaint to make, Miss Everett?”

”There, you see,” broke in Bates. ”You mustn't harm those girls'

reputation by a vague suspicion, Dorcas. If you know anything against them, that's one thing. But a hint goes so far, and it may be against an innocent girl.”

”I know it,” Dorcas looked very earnest, ”so I ask you, Mrs Malone, not to mention this. But tell me, where were those two girls the night of the murder of Sir Herbert Binney?”

”Oh, that!” and Mrs Malone looked greatly relieved. ”They were in their own beds asleep,--both of them. That I can swear to. I thought you meant they'd been dishonest,--stealing something.”