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Ghost Beyond the Gate Part 32

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"Don't go, Mrs. Botts. We want to talk to you in particular."

"I've nothing to say," the caretaker retorted tartly.

"Sit down, Mrs. Botts," ordered her employer. "For some reason you have seemed very nervous since I arrived home tonight."

"It was upsetting to get your telegram so late," Mrs. Botts mumbled, sinking down on the sofa.

"Mr. Deming," began Penny, "a great deal has happened here tonight."



"I intended to tell you about it myself," interrupted Mrs. Botts, addressing her employer. "I've not had a chance."

"Be quiet, please," commanded Mr. Deming. "Do continue, Miss--"

"Parker," supplied Penny. She introduced Salt and Louise, then resumed her story.

As the tale unfolded, Mr. Deming listened with increasing amazement. Now and then he focused his gaze upon the crestfallen Mrs. Botts, but he did not speak until Penny had finished.

"This is a very serious charge you have made against my housekeeper," he said then. "Mrs. Botts, what have you to say?"

"There's not a word of truth in it!" the woman cried. "Why, I've worked for you ten years, Mr. Deming. I've been a loyal, faithful servant. Why should I deceive you by taking a stranger into the house?"

"It does seem fantastic," replied the perplexed Mr. Deming. "Miss Parker, what proof have you that your accusations are true?"

"The proof of my own eyesight," Penny said quietly. "For that matter, a number of persons saw the ghost wandering about the grounds."

Mrs. Botts tossed her head. "I've already explained that part. Frequently when I go outdoors, I put on your old white bathrobe, Mr. Deming. It's warmer than my coat."

"The ghost happened to be a man," Penny said. "And here is something you don't know, Mrs. Botts. I was in this house earlier this evening while you were away. I talked with your mysterious roomer, and I'm satisfied it was my father."

"So _you_ were here!" Mrs. Botts cried angrily. "Mr. Deming, this girl opened the telegram you addressed to me!"

"I did indeed," admitted Penny, unabashed.

Mr. Deming arose and walking over to the fire, stood with his back to it.

"I confess I don't know what to say," he said. "I've never had reason to distrust Mrs. Botts."

"Thank you, sir." The housekeeper smiled triumphantly.

Penny realized that Mr. Deming was on the verge of swinging to Mrs.

Botts' side. So far the interview had gained nothing. She had told the entire story. There was no further information she could add.

"I suppose we may as well go," she said, looking miserably at Salt.

Penny arose. Suddenly her eyes lighted upon a small object lying half hidden between the cus.h.i.+ons of the sofa. Before Mrs. Botts realized what she was about, she had pounced upon it.

"Dad's spectacle case!" she cried triumphantly.

Opening the lid, she held up a pair of dark horn-rimmed gla.s.ses.

"I'm sure I don't know where the case came from," Mrs. Botts stammered.

"When Dad reads on the sofa at home, he often loses his case between the cus.h.i.+ons!" Penny went on excitedly. "Mrs. Botts, you thought you were very clever getting him away from here and removing all the evidence!"

"A salesman who wore gla.s.ses was here last week--" the housekeeper began weakly.

"You can't talk yourself out of this," Penny cut her short, "Mr. Deming, let me show you something."

She reopened the lid of the case and pointed to the initials "A. P."

engraved in gold letters.

"Anthony Parker," she said impressively. "Dad had them stamped there because he lost the case so many times. Does this prove my story?"

"It does," said Mr. Deming. Sternly he faced the housekeeper. "Mrs.

Botts, you have deeply humiliated me. I shall turn you over to the police."

Mrs. Botts began to weep. Stumbling across the room, she clutched her employer's arm.

"Please don't turn me away from here," she pleaded. "Just give me a chance and I'll explain everything. Please, Mr. Deming! This time I promise to tell the truth!"

CHAPTER 21 _MRS. BOTTS' REVELATION_

"Very well, tell your story," Mr. Deming bade the housekeeper. "What do you know about Mr. Parker's disappearance?"

"It was just like I said," Mrs. Botts began in an aggrieved voice. "I was driving not far from the railroad station when I saw the auto accident."

"You say you were driving?" Mr. Deming interposed. "In whose car, may I ask?"

"I used yours, Mr. Deming. I didn't think you would care."

"We'll skip that. Go on with your story."

"Well, I saw the accident. A coupe driven by a young man, crowded Mr.

Parker's car off the road."

"Purposely?" asked Penny.

"I don't know. Two men were in the car and they were speeding. I read part of the license number too. It was F-215 something."

"Why didn't you give this information to the police immediately?"

demanded Mr. Deming.

"I'm trying to explain. I stopped my car--your car, I mean. Mr. Parker seemed stunned so I offered to take him to the hospital. Of course at that time I didn't know who he was."

"Dad didn't seem much hurt?" Penny inquired quickly.

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