Detective and mystery stories; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction; Nurses -- Fiction; Washington (D.C.) Region -- Fiction
“Commonwealth Attorney Wood has issued a warrant for Dr. Alan Noyes,
and the sheriff has just gone to serve it.”
“What!” Wyndham was on his feet instantly, his face white and startled.
“It is a monstrous miscarriage of justice. Noyes is no more guilty of
Brainard’s death than you are, Mitchell.”
“He will have ample opportunity to prove his innocence,” replied
Mitchell. “The preliminary hearing will be held before Judge Ball this
morning.”
“On what do you base such an accusation?” demanded Wyndham, for the
moment forgetting to keep up his espionage of Thorne.
“I cannot disclose details,” Mitchell’s chin looked aggressive. “Dr.
Noyes may give bond in answer to the warrant, and waive examination
until the next term of court.”
“Give bond!” Wyndham started. “By Jove! I had better return home;
Noyes will need me to go on his bond. See you later, Mitchell,” and he
stepped back into the road, then hesitated, his glance traveling to
Thorne who sat gazing straight ahead of him. He was leaving Thorne in
possession of the embankment.
Mitchell was about to call to Wyndham to wait for him when he suddenly
recollected a message intrusted to his care.
“Your old servant, Cato, is looking for you, Dr. Thorne; and he
asked me to tell you if we met that Philadelphia wants you on the
long-distance telephone.”
Thorne was on his feet instantly. “Why didn’t you tell me that at
once?” he began heatedly, then forgetting all else he hurried back to
Thornedale. A second later Mitchell was alone, for, not pausing to
exchange further remarks, Wyndham was beating a quick retreat to the
Porter mansion. Mitchell smiled grimly.
“There’s not much love lost between Thorne and Wyndham,” he muttered.
“Therefore it’s surprising that they sat here in positions which would
seem to indicate amicable conversation. And what were they striving
to find in this neighborhood without the other’s knowledge?” Mitchell
scratched his head in his perplexity. “And why did they leave me
here?” He considered the question, then brightened. “It’s because I’m
a stranger in this locality and they imagine I won’t know what to look
for.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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