The Mark of Cain

There was a hush of expectancy as Judge Hoyt produced and read aloud the document.

As has already been disclosed there was a bequest of fifty thousand dollars to Kane Landon. The house and furniture were given unreservedly to Mrs. Eleanor Black, with fifty thousand dollars in addition. There were bequests of one thousand dollars each to Miss Wilkinson and to Terence McGuire, both favorites with their employer. Also a similar sum to Stryker, the butler, and various smaller sums to other servants and to a few charities.

And then came the disposition of the residuary fortune, which, it was rumored, ran well up into the millions.

In the words of the will it was set forth that all moneys and properties, not otherwise designated, were bequeathed to Avice Trowbridge, on the conditions that “she shall keep my collection of Natural History Specimens intact, and, within a year duly present it to some worthy museum; and herself become the wife of Leslie Hoyt. Also, she must add to said collection not less than twenty-five specimens of certain value every year. If these conditions are not fulfilled, my niece, Avice, inherits but fifty thousand dollars of my fortune, and the residue must form a trust fund, under the supervision of Leslie Hoyt, to be used to found and endow a museum of Natural History.”

With the exception of Hoyt and Avice, every one present looked astounded at the terms of the will. And yet it was not surprising that Mr. Trowbridge desired the union of his niece and his friend. Besides being the lawyer of the dead man, Hoyt had been his intimate friend and companion for years, and Hoyt’s regard for Avice was no secret. Moreover, the girl had always looked on the lawyer with friendly eyes, and it had been assumed by many that they were destined for each other. To be sure, Avice was only twenty, and Leslie Hoyt was forty-five. But he was a man who seemed ten years younger than he was, and Avice was mature for her years. So, while it was a surprise that their union had been made a condition of the bequest, it was not thought by any one that this fact would be objectionable to either of the two concerned.

But Avice looked grave, and an obstinate expression came into her eyes. Hoyt saw this, and smiled a little as he remembered her aversion to being made to do a thing, even though she fully intended to do it. It was the girl’s nature to chafe at authority, and Hoyt well knew he would have to give her free rein in many matters. Of course, having drawn up the will, he had known of this condition, but this was the first time he had had opportunity to note how it affected Avice. And it was quite plain that she was displeased.

“Then,” she burst out, “does my inheritance depend on my marriage to Judge Hoyt?”

“Yes,” answered Hoyt, himself, smiling at her.

“Then I refuse it! I will not be told whom I shall marry!”

“Let us not discuss that now,” said Hoyt, gently; “there is time enough for you to decide that later.”

Avice realized that this was not the time or place for such a discussion, and said no more.

Mrs. Black was dissatisfied. Although she had a handsome inheritance, she well knew that this will had been made before her betrothal to Rowland Trowbridge, and had he lived to marry her, she would have had much more. Indeed, the only person who seemed satisfied was Kane Landon. He looked serenely pleased, and began to make inquiries as to how soon he could have his share in cash.

Judge Hoyt looked at him, as if incredulous that any one could be so mercenary, and rising, went over to sit beside him and discuss the matter. On his way, Hoyt passed by the boy, Fibsy, and patting his shoulder, remarked genially, “I’m glad you were remembered, sonny. When you want to invest your money, let me advise you.”

Fibsy glanced up at the lawyer, and with an inquiring look on his face, he exclaimed “Vapo-Cottolene!”

What this cryptic utterance meant, no one could guess; and no one gave it a second thought, except Landon, who smiled at the red-headed boy and said, “Yes!”

As soon as she could do so, Avice escaped to her own room. So this was her inheritance! A fortune, only if she took also a husband of her uncle’s choice! It had come upon her so suddenly, that she had to reiterate to herself that it was true.

“If I’d only known,” she thought. “I’m sure I could have persuaded Uncle Rowly not to do that! I don’t blame him so much, for I know he thought I wanted to marry Leslie, but I never told him I did. I suppose he had a right to think so, – but – that was all before Kane came back.” And then her thoughts wandered far away from her inheritance, both real and personal, and concerned themselves with the strange man who had come out of the West. For he was strange. Landon had abrupt ways and peculiar attitudes that Avice could not altogether understand. He was so blunt and breezy. That, of course, was owing to his recent surroundings; then, again, he was so masterful and dominating, but that he had always been. Still more, he was incomprehensible. She couldn’t understand his curt, almost rude manner at the time of the inquest proceedings. To be sure, it was enough to make a man furious to have insinuating questions put to him about the murder of his uncle, – as if Kane could have known anything of it! – but, well, he was mysterious in some ways.

And his attitude toward Eleanor Black. They must have met before or they never would have talked as absorbedly as they had been doing when Avice came upon them unexpectedly. And Eleanor was another mysterious one! She had her inheritance now, and Avice hoped they might separate, never to meet again. Well, of course, they would, for neither had a desire to continue living with the other. As for Avice herself, she would go out of that house at once. But where? That must soon be decided. Then, like a flooding wave, came back the memory of her uncle’s will! She must marry Judge Hoyt or lose her fortune. She would have some money, to be sure, but the interest of that, as an income would make life a very different matter from what it had been!

And Eleanor would have this house, – to live in, or to sell. Idly she speculated on this, feeling an undercurrent of satisfaction that the widow’s bequest had not been even larger.

Then her thoughts reverted to the episode of Mrs. Black’s telephoning so late that night, after the death of her uncle. She remembered she had secured the telephone number.

“I’ve a notion to call up and see who it is,” she mused. “I am going to devote myself to searching out the murderer, and while I don’t, of course, dream that Eleanor had anything to do with it, yet – she is Italian, – and suppose she is mixed up with some secret society – oh – well – I’ll have to call that number or never rest. I might as well do it now.”

Unwilling to take a chance of being overheard in the house, Avice dressed for the street and went out. She said to a maid in the hall, “If any one asks, say I’ve gone out for a little breath of air.”

Glad of a walk in the sunshine, she went to the nearest public telephone booth and called the number. She had a queer feeling of doing wrong, but she persuaded herself that her motive was a right one.

“Hello,” she heard a man’s hearty voice say.

“Hello,” she returned, thoroughly frightened now, but not willing to back out. “Who is this, please?”

“Lindsay, Jim Lindsay; who wants me?”

“But, – but, – ” Avice was at her wits’ end what to say, “are you – do you know – that is, are you a friend of Mrs. Black? Eleanor Black?”

“Don’t know the lady. Is this Mrs. Black?”

“No; but you must know her. She – she talked to you last Tuesday night, late – very late.”

“Tuesday night? Oh, I wasn’t here Tuesday night. A chum of mine had my rooms; Landon – Kane Landon, – ”

“Who?”

“Landon. Say, what’s the matter? Won’t you tell me who you are? What’s it all about? Oh, I beg your pardon, I’m inexcusably butting in! Forgive me, do. Yes, Kane Landon had these rooms to himself for a night or two while I was away. I believe he’s at a relative’s on Fifth Avenue now. Want to see him?”

“No – thank you. Good-by.”

Avice hung up the receiver, her brain in a whirl. Had Eleanor, then, been telephoning to Kane the very night of the murder? What had she said? For him not to try to see her that night! For him to meet her next day at the same time and place! Oh, they were old friends, then. More, they were keeping that fact quiet, and pretending to meet as strangers! Was there, could there be any connection between all this and the murder?

Scarce knowing what she was doing, Avice left the booth and went for a long walk. But she could get no meaning or explanation of the facts she had learned. The more she mulled them over the more confused she became as to their import. Her mind turned to Hoyt. After all, Leslie was the one to bank on. He would help her and advise her as he had always done. But, that will! She could ask no favors or advice of Judge Hoyt now, unless she acknowledged herself his betrothed. And was she prepared to do that? Well, one thing was certain, if Kane was all mixed up with Eleanor Black, she surely wanted no more to do with him! And he had told her he loved her. Perhaps because he thought she was her uncle’s heiress! Of course, he did not know then of the clause about her marrying the judge. Probably now, Kane would have no further interest in her. Well, he could marry Eleanor, for all she cared!

She went home, and paused first for a few moments in a small reception room, to calm her demeanor a little. But, on the contrary, the sight of the familiar walls and the realization that she was to leave them, struck a sudden sadness to her already surcharged heart, and she gave way to silent weeping. And here Hoyt, looking for her, found her.

“What is it, dearest?” he said, sitting beside her. “I have now a right to comfort you.”

“Why?” said Avice, throwing back her head and meeting his eyes.

Hoyt smiled tenderly at her. “Because our betrothal, long tacitly agreed upon, is now ratified by your uncle’s wish and decree.”

“Not at all. Because my uncle wished me to marry you, is no reason that I am obliged to do so.”

“Not obliged, my darling. That is a harsh word. But you want to, don’t you, my Avice? My beautiful girl!”

“I don’t know whether I do or not. But I’m sure of one thing, I won’t marry you simply because Uncle Rowly wanted it! Much as I loved him, and much as I revere his memory, I shall not marry a man I don’t love for his sake!”

“But you do love me, little Avice. You are so worried and perturbed now, you can’t think clearly. But you will find yourself soon, and realize that you love me as I love you.”

Hoyt spoke very tenderly and the girl’s quivering nerves were soothed by his strong, gentle voice, and his restrained manner. He didn’t offer endearments which she might resent. He knew enough to bide his time, confident that she would turn to him of her own accord when ready.

“I don’t want to think about marrying now,” she said, wearily; “I have so much to think about.”

And then Leslie Hoyt made his mistake.

“No, dear, don’t think about it now,” he said; “but remember, if you don’t marry me, you lose a very big fortune.”

The words were meant to be half playful, half remindful, but they roused the deepest indignation in the heart of Avice Trowbridge.

She turned on him with flaming eyes. “How dare you? How can you put forth such an argument? Do you think that will help your cause? Do you suppose I would marry any one for a fortune? And any way, as a lawyer you can find some way to set aside that proviso. It can’t be possible a whim like that can stand in law!”

Hoyt looked at her intently. “It will stand,” he said, coldly; “I do not use it as a bribe, but I tell you truly, if you do not marry me the bulk of your uncle’s fortune will go to a museum.”