Part 31 (1/2)
she hurried on, at the other's cynical smile. ”Won't you tell me what you know and what you think my part has been? I've heard and seen things that make me think--oh, they make me afraid to think, and yet I can't find the TRUTH! You see, in a struggle like this, people will make all sorts of allegations, but do they KNOW, have they any proof, that my uncle has done wrong?”
”Is that all?”
”No. You said Struve told you the whole scheme. I went to him and tried to cajole the story out of him, but--” She s.h.i.+vered at the memory.
”What success did you have?” inquired the listener, oddly curious for all her cold dislike.
”Don't ask me. I hate to think of it.”
Cherry laughed cruelly. ”So, failing there, you came back to me, back for another favor from the waif. Well, Miss Helen Chester, I don't believe a word you've said and I'll tell you nothing. Go back to the uncle and the rawboned lover who sent you, and inform them that I'll speak when the time comes. They think I know too much, do they?--so they've sent you to spy? Well, I'll make a compact. You play your game and I'll play mine. Leave Glenister alone and I'll not tell on McNamara. Is it a bargain?”
”No, no, no! Can't you SEE? That's not it. All I want is the truth of this thing.”
”Then go back to Struve and get it. He'll tell you; I won't. Drive your bargain with him--you're able. You've fooled better men--now, see what you can do with him.”
Helen left, realizing the futility of further effort, though she felt that this woman did not really doubt her, but was scourged by jealousy till she deliberately chose this att.i.tude.
Reaching her own house, she wrote two brief notes and called in her j.a.p boy from the kitchen.
”Fred, I want you to hunt up Mr. Glenister and give him this note.
If you can't find him, then look for his partner and give the other to him.” Fred vanished, to return in an hour with the letter for Dextry still in his hand.
”I don' catch dis feller,” he explained. ”Young mans say he gone, come back mebbe one, two, 'leven days.”
”Did you deliver the one to Mr. Glenister?”
”Yes, ma'am.”
”Was there an answer?”
”Yes, ma'am.”
”Well, give it to me.”
The note read:
”DEAR MISS CHESTER,--A discussion of a matter so familiar to us both as the Anvil Creek controversy would be useless. If your inclination is due to the incidents of last night, pray don't trouble yourself. We don't want your pity. I am,
”Your servant,
”ROY GLENISTER.”
As she read the note, Judge Stillman entered, and it seemed to the girl that he had aged a year for every hour in the last twelve, or else the yellow afternoon light limned the sagging hollows and haggard lines of his face most pitilessly. He showed in voice and manner the nervous burden under which he labored.
”Alec has told me about your engagement, and it lifts a terrible load from me. I'm mighty glad you're going to marry him. He's a wonderful man, and he's the only one who can save us.”
”What do you mean by that? What are we in danger of?” she inquired, avoiding discussion of McNamara's announcement.
”Why, that mob, of course. They'll come back. They said so. But Alec can handle the commanding officer at the post, and, thanks to him, we'll have soldiers guarding the house hereafter.”