accomplice, else how could the boots have been given to the Irish tramp when their owner was in prison? The man, thought Hagar, might be innocent after all, in spite of his strange silence. Still, not knowing all the circumstances of the case--save the garbled and bare report in the newspaper--the girl did not, and could not, make up her mind in the matter. At the present moment, her sole course was to write and state that the boots had been pawned. This Hagar did at once, and the next day received a visit from the detective who had charge of the case.
He was called Julf, a lean, tall, dark and solemn creature, who went very cautiously to work--especially in cases of murder. He had a conscience, he said, and would never forgive himself did he hang the wrong criminal. Julf knew how often circumstantial evidence helped to condemn the innocent; how likely even the most acute detective was to be deceived by outward appearances; and how intricate and dark were the paths which led to the discoveries of mysterious crimes. Hence he was slow and circumspect in his dealings.
On arriving at the Lambeth pawn-shop he examined the boots, asked Hagar a few questions, and then sat down with her to thresh out the matter. Julf saw that the girl was shrewd and clever from the remarks she had made anent the pawning of the boots; so he was quite willing to discuss the affair freely with her. In contrast to many self-sufficient detectives, Julf always believed that two heads were better than one, especially when the second head was that of a woman. He had a great respect for the instinct of the weaker sex.
"I'm afraid the man's guilty, right enough," he said, in his solemn way. "He had quarreled with Sir Leslie over this girl, and had been dismissed for insolence. Besides, he was seen coming out of the park at ten o'clock--just after the murder!"
"Had he his gun with him?"
"No; but that's no matter. Sir Leslie was shot through the heart with a pistol. Now, Kerris had a pistol, but that can't be found either. You didn't have a pistol pawned here, did you?"
"Nothing was pawned but the boots," said Hagar, "and Kerris could not have given them to Micky; it seems that he was in prison on the day the lad got them."
"That is true enough. We must find this boy, and learn who gave him the boots on that day. But if Kerris is innocent, why doesn't he say so?"
"It is a mystery," sighed Hagar. "You say that Kerris's pistol cannot be found?"
"No, not in his house; so I daresay he flung it away after killing Sir Leslie."
"Oh, ho!" said Hagar, shrewdly, "then the weapon with which the murder was committed can't be found either."
"But the pistol is the same; Kerris used it, and then got rid of it."
"Why don't you search for it?"
"We have searched everywhere, but it cannot be found."
"Have you drained the pond near which the crime was committed?"
"Why, no," said Julf, meditatively; "we haven't done that. It's a good idea!"
Hagar sighed impatiently. "I wish I had this case in my own hands!" she said, sharply; "I believe I'd find the assassin."
"We have found him," replied the detective, stolidly. "Kerris killed Sir Leslie."
"I don't believe it!"
"Then why doesn't he deny it?"
"I can't say. Is Kerris much in love with this Laura Brenton?" asked Hagar, turning her large bright eyes on Julf.
"I should think so! He's madly in love with her."
"And she with him?"
"Oh, I don't say that," replied Julf; "that is quite another thing. I fancy from what I have heard that she gave far too much encouragement to that young baronet. Kerris evidently had cause for jealousy; so I do not wonder he killed Sir Leslie."
"You have yet to prove that he did."
"Bah!" said Julf, rising to take his leave. "He quarreled with the baronet: he was discharged. His own pistol is missing, and the dead man was shot with a pistol. Then there is the evidence of the boots with his initials on the soles. You can't get over that. Don't you talk nonsense, my girl; there is a strong case against Kerris."
"I can see that; but there is one point in his favor. He did not give those boots to Micky."
"Evidently not. But to prove that point we must find the lad."
This was easier said than done, for Micky and his mother had disappeared as completely as though the earth had swallowed them up. All the police and detective forces in London tried to find the boy, but could not. Yet on his evidence turned the whole case. And all this time George Kerris, in the Marlow prison, refused to open his mouth. Most people believed him to be guilty on the evidence of the boots; but Hagar, on the evidence of the pawning, insisted that he was innocent. Still, she could not understand why he held his tongue at such a crisis.
It has been stated several times that Hagar found her life in the pawn-shop extremely dull, and seized every opportunity to gain for herself a little diversion. A chance of amusement in unraveling the mystery of the boots offered itself now; and this she resolved to take. Also, the conduct of the case would necessitate a visit into the country; and, weary of the narrow streets of Lambeth, Hagar eagerly desired a breath of fresh air. She left the shop in charge of an elderly man, who had been her assistant since Bolker's departure, and took the train to Marlow. When she arrived there, Julf, more solemn than ever, met her at the railway station.
"Good-day," said he, quietly. "You see I have agreed to let you assist me in finding out the truth of this case; though to my mind the truth is already plain enough."
"I don't believe it, Mr. Julf. Take my word for it, George Kerris is innocent of the crime."
"Is he?" said Julf, in sceptical tones; "then who is guilty?"
"That is what I have come to find out," retorted Hagar. "I am obliged to you for letting me help you, though, to be sure, I do so only to gratify my own curiosity. But you won't repent of your concession. I am to have a free hand?"
"You can do exactly as you like."
"Can I? Then I shall first call and see the new baronet."
Refusing the offer of Julf to accompany her, on the plea that she could execute her business better alone, Hagar walked to Welby Park, which was on the other side of Marlow, and asked to see Sir Lewis Crane. At first, owing to her gipsy-like appearance, she was refused admittance; but on mentioning that her business had to do with the murder of the late baronet, Sir Lewis consented to see her. When face to face with him, Hagar, for reasons of her own, examined him closely.
He was an ugly, elderly little creature, many years older than his dead cousin, and had a mean yellow face, stamped with an expression of avarice. Hagar had seen just such another pinched, cunning look on the face of Jacob Dix, and she knew without much trouble that the man before her was a miser. However, she wasted no time in analyzing his character--knowing that it would reveal itself in the forthcoming conversation--but at once mentioned her business.
"I am come on the part of Mr. Julf to see about this murder," she said, curtly.
Sir Lewis raised his eyes. "I did not know that the Government employed lady detectives!" was his remark.
"I am not a detective, but the owner of the shop in which the boots of George Kerris were pawned."
"The boots which prove his guilt," said Crane, with an air of relief, which did not escape Hagar.
"I rather think that they prove his innocence!" was her cold reply.
"Oh! you are talking about them having been given to that tramp when Kerris was in prison. I know all about that, as the detective told it to me. But, all the same, Kerris is guilty, else he would deny his guilt."
"Have you any idea why he does not do so?"
Crane shrugged his shoulders. "No; unless it is that he knows himself to be guilty."
"I believe him to be innocent."
"Pshaw! My cousin admired