The Mark of Cain

“Yes, you did! Quit lying now, and own up! You’re caught with the goods on. The jig is up, so you may as well confess decently. You hid this in your mattress!”

“Yes, Ay hid it, but it is not mine. Ay found it anear the – ”

“Don’t repeat that trumped-up yarn! You killed that man! What did you do with the knife?”

“Ay got na knife – ”

“Yes, you have! Lots of knives. Come, Mrs. Sandstrom, what have you to say?”

But the Swede woman could only incoherently repeat that her husband had brought home the handkerchief, and declared he had found it, as he had found the bottle, near the dead body of a strange man. They had hidden it quickly, lest some of the police come to their house; and the bottle they had washed to get rid of the foul odor.

“She’s in earnest,” said the coroner, looking sharply at her, “he told her this tale and she believes it, even yet. Or if she doesn’t, she’ll stick to it that she does. You see, it all hangs together. Sandstrom killed Mr. Trowbridge, and probably the dying man did call him Cain, and cry out ‘Wilful murder!’ for this fellow wouldn’t be likely to make up such a speech. But it referred to himself and he tried to place it on another. The bottle story is a made-up yarn, by which he clumsily tried to imply a poisoning. The lead pencil found there, is Mr. Trowbridge’s own; the queer telephone call had nothing to do with the affair, and there you are!”

The case was certainly plain enough. The stained handkerchief showed clearly that it had been used to wipe a bloody blade. The long red marks were unmistakable. There was no chance that it might have been used as a bandage or aid to an injured person. The stains spoke for themselves, and proclaimed the horrid deed they mutely witnessed.

A few further questions brought only unintelligible replies from the Swede, and the verdict was speedy and unanimous.

Sandstrom was taken off to jail, but his wife was allowed to return to her home.

Avice felt sorry for the poor woman, and stepping to her side offered some words of sympathy.

“My man didn’t do it, Miss,” and the light blue eyes looked hopelessly sad. “He ba’n’t that kind. He wouldn’t harm anybody. He – ”

But foreseeing an imminent scene, Judge Hoyt took Avice gently by the arm and drew her away.

“Don’t talk to her,” he whispered, “you can do the poor thing no good, and she may become intractable. Let her alone.”

Avice let herself be persuaded, and she followed the judge to the library. On the way, however, she was stopped by Stryker, who said the boy wanted to speak to her.

“What boy?” asked Avice.

“That office boy, Miss Avice. He says just a minute, please.”

“Certainly,” she returned, kindly, and went back a few steps to find Fibsy, bashfully twisting his cap in his hands as he waited for her.

“’Scuse me, Miss, but – are you boss now?”

“Boss? of what?”

“Of the – the diggin’s – the whole layout – ” More by the boy’s gestures than his words, Alice concluded he meant her uncle’s business rather than the home.

“Why, no, I don’t suppose I am, child.”

“Who is, then? The lawyer guy?”

“Judge Hoyt? No, – what do you want to know for?”

“Well, Miss, I want a day off – off me job, you know.”

“Oh, is that all? You are – were my uncle’s office boy, weren’t you?”

“Yes’m.”

“And your name is Fibsy?”

“Well, dat name goes.”

“Then I’ll take the responsibility of saying you may have your day off. Indeed, I’m sure you ought to. Go ahead, child, and if anybody inquires about it, refer him to me. But you must be back in your place tomorrow. They may need you in – in settling up matters, you know – ”

“Oh, gee, yes! I’ll be on deck tomorrow, Miss. But I want today somepin’ fierce, – fer very special reasons.”

“Very well, run along, Fibsy.”

Avice stood looking after the red-headed boy, who seemed for the moment so closely connected with her uncle’s memory. But he darted out of the open front door and up the street, as one on most important business bent.

The girl went on to the library, and found there Kane Landon and the reporter Pinckney busily engaged in the staccato chatter of reunion. Meeting for the first time in five years, they reverted to their college days, even before referring to the awfulness of the present situation.

“But I must beat it now,” Pinckney was saying, as Avice appeared.

“Look me up, old scout, as soon as you can get around to it. A reporter’s life is not a leisure one, and I’ve got to cover this story in short order. Mighty unpleasant bit for you, that Cain speech. No harm done, but it will drag your name into the paper. So long. Good-by, Miss Trowbridge. I may see you again sometime, – yes?”

“I hope so,” said Avice, a little absently. “Good-by.”

Then she turned to Landon. For a moment they took each other’s two hands and said no word.

Then, “It’s great to see you again,” he began; “I’d scarcely recognize the little pig-tailed girl I played with five years ago.”

“You teased me more than you played with me,” she returned. “You were twenty then, but you put on all the airs of a grown man.”

“I was, too. I felt old enough to be your father. That’s why I used to lecture you so much, don’t you remember?”

“Indeed I do! You could make me mad by half a dozen words.”

“I knew it, and I loved to do it! I expect I was an awful torment.”

“Yes, you were. But tell me all about yourself. Why are you in New York and not staying here? Oh, Kane, what does it all mean? I’ve been in such miserable uncertainty all the morning. Not that I thought for a minute you’d done anything – anything wrong, but it’s all so horrible. Did you quarrel with Uncle Rowly yesterday?”

“Yes, Avice, just as the little chap said. But don’t talk about awful things now. It’s all over, the harrowing part, I mean. Now, I just want to look at you, and get acquainted all over again. Let’s put off anything unpleasant until another day.”

“I remember that trait in you of old. Always put off everything disagreeable, and hurry on anything nice,” and Avice smiled at the recollection.

“And not a bad philosophy, my dear. Now tell me of yourself. You are well – and happy? I mean until this tragedy came.”

“Yes, Kane, I’ve had a happy home here with Uncle. I liked it better before Eleanor Blade came, but Uncle wanted a housekeeper, and she applied for the position and he took her. That was about a year or more ago, and Kane, what do you think? They were engaged to be married!”

“Yes, so I learned at the inquest. Don’t you like her?”

“I don’t know; I suppose so. But sometimes, I think I don’t trust her.”