She turned and almost ran from the platform, down the steps and across
the street to the waiting buggy. Sears Kendrick stared after her, stared
until that buggy disappeared around the bend in the road. Then he
breathed heavily, straightened his cap, slowly shook his head, and
entered the lawyer's office. He was still in a sort of trance when he
sat down in the chair in the inner room and heard Bradley bid him good
morning. He returned the good morning, but he heard, or understood, very
little of what the lawyer said immediately afterward. When he did begin
vaguely to comprehend he found the latter was speaking of Elizabeth
Berry.
"I wish I knew what her trouble is," Bradley was saying. "She won't tell
me, won't even admit that there is any trouble, but that doesn't need
telling. The last half dozen times I have seen her she has seemed and
looked worried and absent-minded. And this morning she drove way over
here to ask me some almost childish questions about her investments, the
money the judge left her. Wanted to know if it was safe, or something
like that. She didn't admit that was it, exactly, but that was as near
as I could get to what she was driving at. Do you know what's troubling
her, Kendrick?"
Sears shook his head. "No-o," he replied. "I've heard--but no, I don't
know. She wanted to be sure her money was safe, you say?"
"Why, not safely invested, I don't think that was it. She seemed to want
to know what I'd done with the bonds themselves and the other securities
of hers. I told her they were in the deposit vaults over at the Bayport
bank; that is, some of them were there and some of them were in the bank
at Harniss. Then she asked if any one could get them, anybody except she
or I. Of course I told her no, and not even I without an order from her.
She seemed a little relieved, I thought, but when _I_ asked questions
she shut up like a quahaug. But that seemed a silly errand to come away
over here on. Don't you think so, Cap'n? ... Eh? What's the matter? What
are you looking at me like that for?"
The captain _was_ looking at him, was looking with an expression of
intense and eager interest. He did not answer Bradley's question, but
asked one, himself.
"Did she ask anything more about--well, about her bonds?" he demanded.
"Think now; I'll tell you why by and by."
The lawyer considered. "No-o," he said. "Nothing of importance, surely.
She asked--she seemed to want to know particularly if it was possible
for any one except the owner or a duly accredited representative to get
at securities in the vaults of those banks. That seemed to be the
information she was after.... Now what have you got up your sleeve?"
"Nothin'--nothin'. I guess. Or somethin', maybe; I don't know. Bradley,
would you mind tellin' me this much: Of course I'm not Elizabeth's
trustee any more, but would it be out of the way if you told me whether
or not you reinvested any of her twenty thousand in City of Boston
bonds? City of Boston 4-1/2s; say?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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