Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Mystery fiction
"The fellow's name is Jim, all right, Jim Hobart. I've looked him up in
the police records. He is a confidence man, with one charge of assault
with attempt to kill against him. Nothing lately, however; it seems he
disappeared about ten years ago, and has just drifted back. The woman
passes as his wife. You knew nothing of all this?"
"No; I only saw the man twice; he was very rough then, and swore when I
questioned him."
"And the woman?"
"She would not talk either; only once she told me that Percival
Coolidge had committed suicide. That made me wonder, for I believed
he had something to do with my being held there. What did he say when
he returned to the auto without me? What explanation did he make for
my absence?"
"Explanation! He needed none; you came out of the cottage with him."
"I? What do you mean?"
"But I saw you with my own eyes, talked with you, and all three of us
drove back to 'Fairlawn' together. My God, Miss Natalie, have you lost
your mind? Do you even deny dismissing me from your service?"
She gazed at him through the gloom, utterly unable to comprehend.
"I must have, if what you say is true," she admitted, "For I certainly
have no such recollection."
"You remember nothing of going back with us to 'Fairlawn'?"
"Absolutely nothing."
"Or of a conversation had with me later in the library?"
"No, Captain West."
He stared off into the black night, his lips pressed closely together.
Could this be false? Could she sit there calmly, in the midst of such
peril as surrounded them, and still deliberately endeavour to deceive?
"And you knew nothing of the death of Percival Coolidge, except what was
told you by that woman?"
"She brought me a newspaper which I read; that was all I knew."
"And in that house on Wray Street where I met you again last night. I
suppose you were not there either?"
"Wray Street? I do not know; I was at some place with a saloon on the
ground floor. I could not tell you where it was."
"That is where it was--Wray Street, on the northwest side, a thieves'
rendezvous. And you talked with me there; tried to get me to quit
following you. You surely haven't forgotten that already?"
She dropped her face wearily into her hands, and her voice
sounded listless.
"I--I almost believe you are the crazy one, Captain West. I swear I have
never knowingly met, or spoken to you since we drove to that cottage on
Sunday. I cannot believe what you say."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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