Part 10 (1/2)

At first he saw nothing, but then his keen eye detected a bit of paper, caught at the foot of some shrubbery.

”More doc.u.mentary evidence, perhaps,” he murmured, as he shoved the paper into his pocket. ”I wonder if this connects with the piece I found under the safe?”

He approached the window, the blinds of which were closed, and peered through the slats. A light had been lit, and the policeman and the stranger had just entered the room.

”I don't think you'll find much to interest you,” said the officer.

”All of the others have hunted around, and they didn't find much.”

The stranger walked around the apartment slowly, and then sank into an armchair.

”Sit down and have a smoke with me,” he said, pulling out his cigar case. ”You've got a long night before you.”

”I am not going to stay up all night. The women folks and me are going to take turns. They should have sent another man here, but the Chief couldn't spare him, two of the men being sick.”

Cigars were lit, and the pair smoked away for several minutes, talking of the case in all of its details. Evidently the stranger agreed with the general public regarding Margaret Langmore's guilt.

”Of course she'll put on a good front,” said he, blowing a ring of smoke into the air. ”She's that sort--so I've heard. What does her stepbrother say about it?”

”Not much, now. At first he didn't think her guilty, but after he talked with me and the women folks, he changed his mind, I reckon.

It's a blow to him, for he thought a good deal of the old lady.”

”Mr. Sudley!” came a call from the hallway. ”Mr. Sudley, where are you?”

It was one of the women who was calling, and, laying down his cigar, the policeman left the library to see what she wanted.

The door had scarcely closed on the officer when the demeanor of the other man changed. He arose, looked into the dining room, and listened at the hall doorway for a second. Then he recrossed the apartment and knelt before the safe. Adam Adams heard him mutter something to himself as he twirled around the k.n.o.b of the combination. Twice he tried the door and failed to open it, but the third effort was successful. But before he could do more than glance into the strong box, there was a noise in the hallway. Instantly he shut the door again, dropped into his chair, and resumed his smoking.

”Women folks are a regular nuisance,” was the policeman's comment, on coming back. ”Want you to do this and then that--keep you on the go all the time. I'm tired of it.”

”Take my advice, and don't marry,” was the rejoinder, with a laugh.

”Too late--I've got a wife and five children already. But I've got to go to the barn. Will you come along?”

”Why--er--I suppose so.” The stranger hesitated. ”I'll have to be going pretty soon. Going to stay in this room all night?”

”No; I'm going to lock up and go upstairs.”

”That's right; nothing like resting on a good bed. I don't think the girl will try to run away,”

”She can't--we're watching her too closely.”

The pair left the library. Scarcely had they gone when Adam Adams opened one of the blinds, made a quick leap, and came inside.

”That fellow will bear watching, no matter who he claims to be,” the detective told himself. ”But there is no use of following him now, for he will be back sooner or later. He did not open this safe for nothing.”

With the policeman and the stranger gone, the lower portion of the mansion appeared deserted. Adam Adams looked to make sure that he was not observed, and then went to the safe. As he had antic.i.p.ated, the door now came open with ease.

The detective felt that he was in a ticklish position. Had he a right to examine the contents of this strong box? If discovered by any one, what would be the outcome? Even the fact that he was in a way connected with the law might not clear him.