The Come Back Part 28

"Oh, I don't know! I'm desperate,-- I will find out something!"

"Of course you will, Julie, for I'll help you."

It was Thorpe who spoke, and he seemed to have suddenly acquired a new energy.

"I'm going to turn detective myself," he went on. "We'll work together, Julie, and,-- Mr. Crane, if we succeed,-- I mean succeed in freeing myself from suspicion----"

"And finding the real criminal," put in Crane with a very serious face.

"Yes, and find the real criminal," but Thorpe's face was less bright, "then, sir, will you give us your blessing?"

"Yes, McClellan," but Crane's voice had no hearty ring, "yes, when you are a free man in every sense of the word, you may take my little girl for your own."

Thorpe gave him a searching look. "I can't help seeing, Mr. Crane," he said, "that you think,--or perhaps I may say, you fear I am guilty. I hope I can prove to you that I am not."

Crane noticed the wording of his speech. Thorpe hoped to prove to him,--but he didn't say he was innocent.

And Benjamin Crane believed the man guilty. Greatly influenced by what he had heard at the _seance_ with the medium, Crane was still willing to be convinced to the contrary, but Thorpe's own att.i.tude and words did not carry conviction.

"Well, my children," Crane said at last, "here's my proposition. I can't think your determination to do detective work will produce much fruit.

Now, if you like, I'll engage the best detective I can find and put him on the job. What say, Thorpe?"

It was a test question, and Crane eagerly awaited the answer. If Thorpe were really innocent, he would welcome the clever sleuthing that would be likely to unearth the truth.

But he was disappointed to hear Thorpe say, "Not yet, Mr. Crane. Give us a chance. Let me try,--let us try,"--with a glance at Julie--"give us a few days, at least,--then, if we gain nothing,--then bring on your detective."

"But,-- I hate to say it, Mac, though I dare say you know it,--you may be arrested any day now."

Thorpe gave a start, and the sudden pallor that came to his face showed how the idea affected him.

"Oh, not that,--hardly that----"

"Yes, it's imminent." Crane thought best to tell him this. "They--they say they've got the goods on you, Mac."

"What--what do you mean by that?"

"Well," Crane couldn't bring himself to tell of the poison bottle, "well, my boy, they say that you and Blair quarreled."

"We did."

"Over the sketches for the prizes?"

"Yes, over those, and over other matters."

"When was this?"

"We'd been sc.r.a.pping off and on for some time. Nothing very serious.

But,--well, when Gilbert implied that I had used his ideas, I--I got mad."

"And saw red?"

"Yes, I suppose that's what they call it."

"The night he--he died?"

"Yes."

"Mac," Benjamin Crane looked grave, "suppose you tell me just what happened that night."

"Well,--we'd all been to the Club to dinner, you know."

"Yes."

"And when we went home, Bob Knight went with us. He was irritating, somehow,--said he heard Blair and I had combined on our work----"

"Why was that annoying?"

"Oh, it implied that Gilbert and I took each other's ideas, or something,-- I don't know,--anyway, he stirred us up, and when he went off, Gil and I were touchy. We had some words, and Blair tore up his sketches, a-and--tore up some of mine, too."

"He did! No wonder you were annoyed."

"Yes; they were the ones I had ready,--or, almost ready, to send in."

"Go on," said Crane, briefly.

"Well, there's little more to tell. I went into my bedroom and slammed the door. Yes, I slammed it, for I had lost my temper, and I was mad at Blair."

"And then?"

"I don't know anything more to tell. I heard Blair around the studio for a time, and once I heard his footsteps near my door, as if he wanted to speak to me,--maybe make up,--but he didn't say anything or knock, or call out,--and then, after a time I heard him go into his own bedroom and close the door."

"And you heard nothing through the night?"

"Nothing unusual. The ordinary sounds in the building, of course."

"And you stayed in your room,--in your bed,--till morning?"

"Yes, I did. I sleep very soundly, and I sleep late. The details of the morning, and my finding of Blair,--you know. Don't ask me to recount all that again."

"No; I shan't. Are you going on with your work for the compet.i.tion?"

"Of course!" Thorpe's face showed surprise at the question. "Why should I not? I rescued the torn sketches from the waste-basket, and I can copy them. I've a good chance at it, I think."

"Now that Blair's out of the running?"

Thorpe looked up angrily, but as suddenly he became calm. "No, Mr.

Crane," he said, "not because of that. But because Gilbert can't steal my plans."