Carolyn Wells

The Greatest Murder Mysteries of Carolyn Wells


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the absolutely unscalable wall. So without advancing it as a theory exactly, I can't help a vague impression that Arnold might have gone for a walk in the grounds after midnight, and fallen by accident into some deep pool or well, I know this sounds somewhat implausible, but I can't think of anything else that will be a rational explanation of the man's disappearance. And that he went away intending to mystify us all, I shall never believe. So my advice, since it has been asked, is to put the matter into professional hands. I myself should inform the police, but Miss Wadsworth and Mrs. Duncan naturally shrink from giving the affair so much publicity. So, to my mind, the next best plan is to send at once for the best detective from the Central Office."

      "I quite agree with you," observed Mr. Crane. "I'm sure it is a case for a detective, but I warn you he will find it hard to discover any clues. Mrs. Crane and I went over the grounds carefully this afternoon, and we found no footprints, nor any suggestive indications of any sort."

      Mr. Crane spoke as if he were giving information of vast importance, but Gale did not seem especially impressed. "One could hardly expect to find footprints in this weather," he said. "It is clear and cold and the ground is hard. Of course the gravel walks would show no footprints, nor the stone pavements. I think a detective will scarcely depend upon clues of that sort—though I must admit I can't see what he will find to depend on. To me, the affair is entirely mysterious, unless there has been foul play of some sort."

      This was the first time foul play had been definitely mentioned, and everybody started at the idea. Dorothy threw herself into her mother's arms and began to cry. Leila Duane and Mabel Crane were whispering together earnestly, while Miss Wadsworth sat bolt upright, her face turning ashy white at the suggestion.

      The men, too, all looked disturbed at the thought. All modern, up-to-date men of the world, their minds immediately jumped to thoughts of what it would mean if there were really tragedy, possibly crime, and the unpleasant details of public exposure.

      Mr. Crane, perhaps, had thought of this before, for he nodded his head gravely, with an expression of superior sagacity; but the others seemed appalled, and sat quiet, but deeply thoughtful.

      "I've no wish to alarm you unnecessarily," pursued Gale, "but I am so firmly convinced that it is foreign to Mr. Arnold's nature to do anything erratic or purposely mysterious, that I am forced to the conclusion, or rather to the suspicion, of wrongdoing on the part of some one else."

      "But how—but who—" began Miss Abby, helplessly.

      "I don't know," said Gale; "I have no theory, not even an idea, further than this: if Mr. Arnold is kept unwillingly away from home, it is either by accident or force. If accident, we shall probably learn of it in a short time. If force, it is our imperative duty to find him. We have no idea which way to turn or what way to look, therefore, I advise a clever and capable detective. Do not think, Miss Wadsworth, there is anything sinister or fearful about a detective. He is perhaps no cleverer or wiser than the men gathered here, but his training and experience give him advantages that other citizens do not possess. Employing a detective by no means implies a fear of tragedy or disaster; it is merely the rational way to go about the solution of what we must admit has become a real mystery. And, as I have said, if there is no real mystery, if Mr. Arnold turns up safe and sound and laughs at our fears, then there is no harm done. But to neglect or delay our efforts, if they are necessary, is criminal on our part. I don't want to dictate, but you called us over here to advise you, and the advice I have just given, is, I am sure, the opinion of my partner also. Isn't it, Crosby?"

      "Certainly," and Campbell Crosby spoke with decision. "I think there is nothing else to do, but act as you have suggested, Gale. I naturally wish the affair might be kept as quiet as possible, for when my cousin appears, as it is my belief he soon will, it would be best to have as little notoriety about it all as possible."

      Fred Crane was the only one who raised a definite objection. "I think," he began, "it is premature to call in a detective now. What can he do, but pry round and investigate, and that we can do ourselves. I am of a detective turn of mind, myself, and I am glad to offer my services in the matter. While not precisely a Sherlock Holmes, I have a strong deductive faculty, and I feel sure I could do all that a professional could accomplish, the more so that I have a personal interest in the matter, which he could not have."

      "There's something in that," said Campbell Crosby, thoughtfully; "often an amateur succeeds because of his personal note of determination, where a professional is actuated only by thought of reward."

      Emory Gale looked annoyed. "Of course you must all do as you choose," he said. "Miss Wadsworth, I look to you for orders. I am Mr. Arnold's lawyer, and in his absence I defer to your wishes. What do you think about the matter of engaging a detective?"

      Miss Abby fidgeted. "I don't know," she said finally; "at first I was terribly opposed to such a thing. But now I feel we ought to get one. It is presentiment or premonition or something of that sort, perhaps, but I do feel there's something wrong about Justin's absence. However, I am not the only one to be consulted. As Justin's promised wife and as future mistress of this place, I think Dorothy's wishes should be considered. What do you think, dear?"

      "Oh, don't ask me!" cried Dorothy, in an agonized voice; "not me, of all people!"

      "Why not, dear?" said her mother, gently. "Come, Dorothy, darling, don't act like that. You have a certain responsibility, you must rise to meet it."

      "Oh, I can't! I can't! Don't ask me,—ask any one else—any one!"

      Chapter XII.

       A Check Stub

       Table of Contents

      And so as Miss Wadsworth seemed to be the only one to decide the question, she did so by quietly directing that a professional detective be engaged. "Don't think I don't appreciate your offer," she said to Fred Crane; "but with all the willingness in the world, I don't think you could do the work of a trained detective. And anyway, you can both work together. No doubt the Central Office man will be glad of your sympathetic interest and assistance."

      Crane was not overly pleased at this, but he couldn't very well insist, so he agreed to do all he could to help, vowing to himself that he would accomplish some wonderful sleuthing that would make the real detective "sit up and take notice."

      As there was no reason for delay and there might be reason for immediate action, Gale telephoned at once to the Central Office for a first-class detective.

      He was advised that James Wheeler would be sent the next morning and that Mr. Wheeler was one of the best and cleverest men on the force.

      "I think he might have come to-night," said Miss Abby; "if anything dreadful has happened to Justin, every hour counts."

      "He couldn't do anything to-night," Crosby assured her. "I've heard of Wheeler, he's a very clever man, and I've no doubt when he comes he will solve the mystery."

      "And perhaps it will be but a simple solution," said Leila Duane, hopefully, "and perhaps there isn't any dreadfulness about it at all."

      "Then where's Justin?" demanded Dorothy, looking up with tearful eyes, from her mother's embrace.

      "We don't know yet, dear," returned Mrs. Duncan, gently; "we hope Mr. Wheeler will find out."

      "Meantime, let us be doing something by way of investigation," said Gale, who was of an impatient nature. "What do you say, Miss Wadsworth, do you think I'm justified in looking through the papers in Arnold's desk or safe? I don't want to intrude, but mightn't we learn something, perhaps, that way?"

      Miss Abby considered. "As his lawyer, Mr. Gale, I think you have a perfect right to look over his papers. As confidential secretary, Mr. Chapin, also has a right. So if you and Mr. Crosby and Mr. Chapin choose to go over his business papers, I'm sure I have no objections." The three men went off on their errand, and if Mr. Crane felt any chagrin at not being asked to accompany them, he successfully concealed it.

      Following Ernest Chapin, Gale and