Part 34 (2/2)
Durgin came out of the duck midst to see his visitor. He was a large, taciturn being, healthy, strong, independent, a trifle suspicious and more than a trifle indifferent as to the final disposal of John Hardy's fortune.
Garrison, at first, found him hard to handle. He had not yet read the papers. He knew nothing at all of what was being said; and now that he heard it at last, from Garrison's lips, he scarcely did more than nod his head.
Garrison was annoyed. He determined on awakening the duck-stupored being, unless the task should prove hopeless.
”Mr. Durgin,” he said, ”the reasons for supposing that Hardy was murdered--poisoned--are far more convincing than anyone really supposes--and suspicion points particularly at a person in whom you may and may not be interested--your younger brother, Foster Durgin.”
A curious white appearance crept all about the smooth-shaven mouth of the duck man. He was not in the least an emotionless clod; he was not even cold or indifferent, but silent, slow at giving expression to anything but excellent business capabilities.
He looked at Garrison steadily, but with dumb appeal in his eyes. The blow had gone home with a force that made Garrison sorry.
”How could that be?” the man inquired, ”even with Foster wild?”
”He may not be guilty--it's my business to discover who is,” said Garrison, with ready sympathy. ”It looks as if he had a motive. With his knowledge of photography and his dabbling in the art, he has almost certainly handled poison--the particular poison used to destroy John Hardy's life. He was there in Hickwood at the time of the crime. He has gambled in Wall Street, and lost, and now has disappeared. You can see I need your help to clear the case.”
CHAPTER XXVI
STARTLING DISCLOSURES
Durgin sat down on a box, picked up a sliver of wood and began to chew it slowly. He was not a man of rapid thoughts; and he was stunned.
”How did you find out all these things?” he said.
”From Dorothy, partially, and in part from my own investigations.”
”Dorothy didn't go back on the boy like that?” The man was hurt by the thought.
”Not at all. She tried to s.h.i.+eld him. I came to Rockdale on her account, to try to discover if there is anyone else who might have had a motive for the crime.”
Durgin pulled the sliver of wood to shreds with his teeth.
”I don't think Foster would have done it,” he said, concealing the pain in his breast. ”He's been wild. I've lost all patience with his ways of livin', but Uncle John was never afraid of Foster, though he was of Hiram Cleave.”
”What's that?” said Garrison, instantly, alive to a possible factor in the case. ”Do you mean there was a man Mr. Hardy was afraid of--Hiram what?”
”He never wanted me to tell of that,” said Durgin in his heavy manner.
”He wasn't a coward; he said so, and I know it's true, but he had a fear of Cleave.”
”Now that's just exactly what I've got to know!” said Garrison. ”Man alive, if you wish to help me clear your brother, you've got to give me all the facts you can think of concerning Mr. Hardy, his enemies, and everything else in the case! What sort of a man is this Cleave?”
”A short, middle-aged man,” drawled Durgin deliberately. ”I never saw him but once.”
”What was the cause of enmity between him and Hardy, do you know?”
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