The Man Who Fell Through the Earth

Hudson went away, and Olive turned to me in a passion of rage.

“What insolence!” she exclaimed. “Are such things permitted? To come here and practically accuse me of my uncle’s murder!”

“He wasn’t your uncle, you know.”

“That doesn’t matter. I loved him as I would a relative. His sternness and his unreasonable commands were distasteful to me, but that didn’t alter my real love and affection for the man. He has been everything to me for the greater part of my life. He has been kindness itself in most matters. He indulged me in all possible ways as to creature comforts and luxuries. He never criticized the ways in which I spent my money, or in which I entertained myself, save in the matter of having guests or making visits.”

“And allowing admirers?”

“There were some men he approved of, – you may as well know, Mr. Brice, my guardian wished me to marry his friend and lawyer, Mr. Pond.”

“Why, when that gentleman is so greatly your senior?”

“Merely because Uncle was so fond of him. And, too, Uncle never seemed to realize that I was of a different generation from himself. He couldn’t understand, – he really couldn’t – why I wanted young company and gay parties. He didn’t, and he really assumed that I didn’t. I think he never realized how greatly he was depriving me when he forbade me society.”

“Did it really amount to that?”

“Practically. Or, if I succeeded in persuading him to let me have a house guest or a small party, he made things so unpleasant that I was glad when they were gone.”

“Unpleasant, how?”

“Oh, fussing around, as if his comfort were interfered with, – as if he were terribly incommoded by their presence, and by demanding my time and attention for himself, instead of allowing me to entertain my guests properly.”

“Doubtless so you wouldn’t do it again.”

“Yes, of course. But all that was uncomfortable for me, – almost unbearable, – yet one doesn’t kill one’s people for such things.”

To me this simple statement of Olive Raynor’s was more convincing than a storm of denial. She had stormed, with indignation, at the hint of suspicion, but her quiet, dignified refutation went far to assure me of her entire innocence.

“Of course, one doesn’t,” I agreed, “and now to find out who did do it. Have you any suspicion, – Miss Raynor, even the slightest?”

“No; except that it seems to me it must have been some man who knew Uncle in a business way. Though a generous and charitable man, Amos Gately was scrupulously just, and if he had enemies, they were men whom he had discovered in some wrong-doing and he had exposed or punished them. No man had a cause for righteous enmity against him, – of that I’m sure!”

CHAPTER VIII

The Man Who Fell Through the Earth

“And it is for me,” Olive went on, with a solemn look in her brown eyes, “to avenge the death of my guardian. I am not worried about this surveillance, or whatever they call it, of myself, – it is too absurd to take very seriously. Of course, I shall not leave the city, and I will answer any questions the police may put to me. For, you see, Mr. Brice, the only reason I had for telling falsehoods is a reason no longer. I did resort to ‘white lies’ because Uncle Amos was so unreasonably strict with me, but I’ve no further need for that sort of thing, and I assure you you will find me absolutely truthful from now on.”

A sad little smile accompanied the words, and an earnest expression on the delicate, high-bred face gave me implicit confidence in her sincerity.

“Then,” I hastened to advise her, “do not antagonize the police. If they have you under their eye, rest assured they think there is some reason to watch you. Be friendly, or, at least patient with them, and they will all the sooner be aware of their mistake. Moreover, you want their help in running down the real murderer of your guardian. It is a mysterious affair, Miss Raynor.”

“Oh, it is, Mr. Brice, and it may be that in penetrating the mystery we may unearth something – you know, – something detrimental to Mr. Gately’s character.”

“Have you any such fear – definitely, I mean?”

“Not definitely, no. If I had I should tell you. But in a vague, apprehensive way, I feel there must be something in his life that brought this about, and that I as yet know nothing of. But you think, don’t you, that we must go ahead and learn all we can?”

“You are not afraid, then, of investigation, for yourself – or, for anyone else?”

I put this query after a moment’s hesitation, yet I had to know.

“No, sir,” her voice rang out clearly. “I know what you mean, you are thinking of Mr. Manning. And there is another task for you. We must find Amory Manning. That man never went away, voluntarily, without sending me some word. He said he would come up here that night, – the night of Uncle’s death. He didn’t come, nor did he communicate with me in any way. That means he was unable to do so.”

“But what could have happened that would make it impossible for him to send you some word?”

“I don’t know – I can’t think, I’m sure. But he was attacked or overcome by someone who wanted him put out of the way. Mr. Manning had enemies, – that much I may tell you – ”

“Do you know more? That you can not tell me?”

“No; that is, I don’t know anything, – but I have some foreboding, – oh, nothing definite, Mr. Brice, but I can’t help fearing we shall never see Amory Manning alive again!”

“I don’t want to force your confidence, but can’t you tell me a few more facts? Why has he enemies? Are they political?”

“Yes; in a way. Don’t ask me now anyway. Let us try to find Amory and if we fail, I may decide it my duty to tell you what I now withhold.”

And with this I was forced to be content. For Olive Raynor did not talk like a young, inexperienced girl, as I had thought her; she gave me now the impression of a young woman involved in weighty matters, and the trusted holder of important secrets.

“To begin with, then,” I said, “suppose we try first to find Mr. Manning, – or to learn what became of him.”

“Yes,” she agreed; “but how shall we set about it? I’ve already telephoned to several of his friends, whom I know, and none of them has seen him since that day, – the day of Uncle’s death. Thank Heaven nobody is foolish enough to blame that on him!”

“They couldn’t very well, as he was with you when the discovery was made.”

“I know it. And for the police to say he ran away to hide to protect me from suspicion is just about the most absurd theory possible!”

“I think so, too. Now, to get down to dates. Have you heard anything of Mr. Manning later than the time when I saw him get off the Third Avenue car on his way home that night?”

“No, I haven’t. And we know he never reached his home. His rooms are in a house on Gramercy Park – ”

“That’s why he got off at Twenty-second Street – ”

“Yes, of course. He left you there, didn’t he?”

“We both got off the car there. My own rooms are in the same locality. But the snow squall was a whirlwind at the corner, and my glasses were so covered with flakes that I couldn’t see a thing for a moment, and when I could, Manning had got out of sight. I didn’t know then in just what direction he lived, so I looked all four ways but I didn’t see him. However, in the black squall, one couldn’t see half a dozen steps anyway.”

“Of course, he started toward his home, – perhaps, he almost reached it, – when whoever was lying in wait for him attacked him.”

“Why are you so sure he was attacked? He may have had an errand in some other direction.”

“I sort of see the thing as a picture. And as he got out at that corner I naturally see him going straight home. It is not likely that he would be going on some other errand, and yet get off at that corner.”

“No; I suppose not.”

“Well, then, as he never did go home, – hasn’t been there yet, – what theory is there except that he was prevented from going there? He may have been kidnaped, – don’t smile, it is among the possibilities, – or, he may have met with a serious accident, – slipped and broken his leg or something of that sort. But in such a case, he would have been taken to a hospital, and I should have heard of it. No, Mr. Brice, he was carried off by some powerful enemy. I say powerful, meaning rather, clever or diplomatic, for as I see it, trickery would have been used, not force, to abduct Amory Manning.”

“But why abduct him?” I cried in amazement “What is he? Why is he a menace?”