The White Room

"But you didn't tell us everything this afternoon?" said Arnold.

"What else there is to be told will be explained when Jasher is here," replied the Greek grimly; "it won't be pleasant for him."

"Guess there's no honour amongst thieves," muttered Tracey, toasting his steaming feet. "Say, professor," he added aloud, "why do you call that low-down cuss Jasher?"

"Has he another name?" asked Bocaros.

"He's bad enough to have a dozen names," growled Tracey, who did not intend to give away Mrs. Baldwin's secret, for Bocaros was just the man to make capital out of it. He had only made a tentative attempt to see if Bocaros knew anything of the matter. Apparently he did not, and to him Jasher was simply the private inquiry-agent he represented himself to be.

While they were thus talking a soft knock came to the window. The Greek put his finger to his lips and nodded silently. Evidently this was Jasher's private signal. When Bocaros left the room to admit his confederate-for Jasher was nothing more and nothing less-the young men felt for their revolvers. It was not likely that Jasher would give in without a struggle, and a show of force might be necessary. Arnold's heart thrilled at the coming fight, and Tracey's eyes glittered. "It might be a clearing out West," he whispered Calvert, "with judge Lynch holding his court."

Jasher, round and ruddy and as complacent as ever, entered in the wake of Bocaros. He had no idea that the Greek had betrayed him, for he shook hands-he insisted on shaking hands-with much gusto. "I am glad you are here, Mr. Calvert," said he, sitting down. "I have much to say. But what brings you to this quarter?"

"We have made a few discoveries ourselves," said Calvert, "and we came to talk them over with the professor."

"Why, the professor knows nothing," said Jasher, still quite unsuspicious. "Let me hear what you have found out."

"On the contrary, I should like to hear of your discoveries."

"Well," said Jasher, gazing into the fire, "it seems to me that Fane committed the crime. He came up from Southend, and he was at the villa on that night. I've an idea he knew this woman."

"What was she to him?" asked Arnold calmly.

"I have heard it said she was his wife."

"Why don't you say straight out what you know?" broke in Tracey; "I guess you knew the truth from Bocaros."

"Bocaros!" Jasher, with sudden suspicion, leaped to his feet, and his little eyes glittered. "What's that?"

"This much," said the Greek, also rising, "I have told these gentlemen all I know. Ah-"

"No you don't," said Tracey, catching Jasher as he hurled himself forward. "Go slow."

Jasher tried to recover his calm. "This is some joke, gentlemen," he said, wiping his face and looking at the watchful faces before him. "What does Professor Bocaros know?"

"He knows," said the Greek, keeping well behind Calvert, "that it was you who suggested the idea of getting Mrs. Brand to make the will in my favour. It was you who put me up to getting the key stolen and duplicated. It was you who wrote those letters luring Mr. Calvert and Miss Mason to the villa so that you might put the blame on them. I never knew you meant murder, Jasher," said Bocaros, stepping forward, "or I should not have joined with you."

"This is all lies," said Jasher faintly.

"It is true. And it was arranged when we found that the woman was dead that I should engage you as a detective so that you might be able to manipulate the case at your will. Owing to the change which Mrs. Brand made in her will, Calvert stood in my way and in yours. It was then that you proposed to fix the guilt of the murder on him."

"And had I not overslept myself," said Calvert, his eyes on Jasher, "I should have fallen into your trap."

"Let me out of this," said the detected scoundrel, and made a dash for the door. He was met by Tracey, revolver in hand. With an oath he slipped round his hand for his own weapon.

"Hold up your hands or I shoot!" said the Yankee. "Now get back to your seat and tell the truth if it's in you."

Sullenly and with all his surface good-nature gone, Jasher, with his hands held over his head, sat down. "It's a lie-a lie!" he said vehemently, finding his voice in the extremity of his danger. "Bocaros lured the woman to the villa. I came later-a few minutes after ten. I was admitted by him."

"That's a lie!" said Bocaros. "You told me you let yourself in with the key of Mrs. Brand."

"I didn't. I was not at the villa till after ten-the woman was killed before. I found you standing by the dead body. You killed her."

"I did not. From the fact that you had the key to enter, I guessed you must have seen Mrs. Brand earlier. You met her, I swear-not I. It was you who stabbed her, and with the dagger which she brought with her to threaten Fane. You arranged all these plans so that you could lay the blame on others. If I did not pay up, you arranged-as you told me-to hunt me down in your character of detective. It was you who killed the woman to get control of the money."

Jasher had kept his eyes steadily on the face of the professor. When the man finished, he flung up his hands with a wild cry and pointed to the window. "Look! Look! A face!" he shrieked.

The others involuntarily turned. In a moment Jasher whipped out his revolver and dashed out of the door. As he passed Bocaros he fired, and the Greek fell to the floor. "Judas! Judas!" cried the other man, and fled into the darkness.

Calvert remained behind to attend to the wounded man, but Tracey, whose blood was up because of the stratagem of which he had been the victim, dashed after Jasher, revolver in hand. He plunged into the cold mist, running wildly. His foot caught in the stump of a tree, and he fell at full length. In the blinding fog it was useless to attempt pursuit, but Jasher, without coat and hat, could not run far without being questioned by a policeman. The recent crime in Troy had made the police wary, and Jasher would certainly be detained. With this idea, Tracey rose and limped back to the house.

Meanwhile Jasher, who knew the ground well, turned to the left and ran across the meadow. He slipped his weapon into his pocket, and raced hard through the mist. By chance he came against the fence at the back of the manor-house, and saw above the yellow light of Mrs. Baldwin's bedroom. Jasher knew that she slept there, as for reasons of his own he had made himself acquainted with all that went on in the house. He had heard that his wife was rich because of the rise of land, and had intended to come back with an apology for having taken the diamond necklace. But the chance offered by the murder of Mrs. Brand to get a large sum of money out of Bocaros proved too tempting, and thus Jasher had remained away. Now that he was a fugitive and with-so far as he knew-Calvert and Tracey on his track, he thought he would take refuge with the wife he had treated so badly. He also knew that without hat and coat he would be stopped by the police, and when he dashed out of the professor's house it was his intention to make for the abode of his wife.

After listening intently and hearing nothing but the steady rain, Jasher, cursing his bad luck, climbed over the fence. He walked up the lawn and mounted the terrace which ran before the windows of Mrs. Baldwin's bedroom. At the middle window he knocked softly. He heard a cry within, and applying his eyes to a hole in the blind, he saw that his wife was alone, reading in bed. She had half-started up, and had her hand under the pillow.

"Who is there?" asked Mrs. Baldwin sharply.

"Maria. It's me-Rufus. Let me in. I am in danger!"

"Never! Never! Go away, or I'll alarm the house."

"Jasher pleaded, and swore, and did all he knew to make her alter her decision. But she would not. He was drenched by the rain, shivering, and hatless. The bloodhounds were on his track. He lost his head, and with a furious oath dashed his whole weight against the window. The frail structure broke inward, and, half blinded, he burst through the curtain. As in a dream he saw his wife wild with terror start from the bed. She raised her hand, and the next moment there came a stunning report. With a yell Jasher threw up his hands and fell. Mrs. Baldwin's shrieks aroused her daughter, the children, and the servants. They rushed into the room, and found the dead man and the frantic woman.

"A burglar-a burglar cried Mrs. Baldwin. I've killed him." Then she threw up her hands wildly. "Out of my life at last-out of my life!"

The next moment she was lying senseless by the side of the husband she had shot.

CHAPTER XXII

THE WIND-UP

So this was the end of the case which so perplexed London and London's police. But neither the police nor the public came to know the truth, as will appear from a conversation held between Laura and her lover a fortnight after the death of Jasher. As they were to be married, and there were to be no secrets between them, Arnold told her the whole truth, suppressing nothing. Laura wept.

"O Arnold, how terrible it is for Julia! What will she do?"

"She has already made up her mind what to do, and I think she has taken the wisest course."

"What is that?"

"She will marry Walter Fane quietly and go abroad for a time. Then no one will ever know the truth."

"But it might come out in other ways."

"No. I have taken care of that. Derrick, as you know, gave up the case some weeks ago, as he could discover nothing. The only thing he is doing now is watching the Hampstead house for the return of the dead woman's husband. Of course your brother-in-law will never return there, and so Derrick will grow weary."

"But did not Jasher confess when he died?"

"Only to me and Tracey, dear. When Mrs. Baldwin shot him under the impression that he was a burglar, he did not die immediately. He was taken to the hospital, but died a few days later. In the interval he sent for me and Tracey, and knowing everything was ended for him, he confessed."