Raspberry Jam

“Of course not,” and Shane looked at her as at a foolish child; “why should it be? The lady used it, and then put it away.”

“Hold on, there, Shane,” Hendricks interrupted. “Why would any one do such a positively incriminating thing as that?”

“They always slip up somewhere,” said Driscoll, “after committing a crime, your criminal is bound to do something careless, that gives it all away. Mrs. Embury, how did that dropper get in that medicine chest in your bathroom?”

“I scorn to answer!” The cold tones showed no fear, no trepidation, but Eunice’s white fingers interlaced themselves in a nervous fashion.

“Do you know anything about it, Miss Ames?”

“N—no,” stammered Aunt Abby, trembling, as she looked now at the detectives and then at Eunice.

“Well, it couldn’t have put itself there,” went on Driscoll. “Who else has access to that place?”

Eunice gave no heed to this speech. She gave no heed to the speaker, but stared at him, unseeingly, her gaze seeming to go straight through him.

“Why, the maid,” said Aunt Abby, with a helpless glance toward Elliott and Hendricks, as if beseeching assistance.

“The servants must be considered,” said Hendricks, catching at a straw. “They may know something that will help.”

“Call the maid,” said Shane, briefly, and, as neither of the women obeyed, he turned to Ferdinand, who hovered in the background, and thundered: “Bring her in—you!”

Maggie appeared, shaken and frightened, but when questioned, she answered calmly and positively.

“I put that dropper in the medicine closet,” she said, and every one looked toward her.

“Where did you get it?” asked Shane.

“I found it—on the floor.”

“On the floor? Where?”

“Beside Miss Ames’ bed.” The girl’s eyes were cast down; she looked at nobody, but gave her answers in a dull, sing-song way, almost as if she had rehearsed them before.

“When?”

“This morning—when I made up her room.”

“Had you ever seen it before?”

“No, sir.”

“Why did you think it belonged to Miss Ames?”

“I didn’t think anything about it. I found it there, and I supposed it belonged to Miss Ames, and I put it away.”

“Why did you put it in the medicine chest?”

The girl looked up, surprised.

“That seemed to me the proper place for it. Whenever I find a bottle of camphor or a jar of cold cream—or anything like that—I always put it in the medicine chest. That’s where such things belong. So I thought it was the right place for the little dropper. Did I do wrong?”

“No, Maggie,” Driscoll said, kindly, “that was all right. Now tell us exactly where you found it.”

“I did tell you. On the floor, just beside Miss Ames’ bed. Near the head of the bed.”

“Well, Miss Ames—I guess it’s up to you. What were you doing with this thing?”

“I didn’t have it at all! I never saw it before!”

“Come, come, that won’t do! How could it get there?”

“I don’t know, but I didn’t put it there.” The old lady trembled pitifully, and looked from one to another for help or guidance.

“Of course, she didn’t!” cried Eunice. “You sha’n’t torment my aunt! Cease questioning her! Talk to me if you choose—and as you choose—but leave Miss Ames alone!”

She faced her inquisitors defiantly, and even Shane quailed a little before her scornful eyes.

“Well, ma’am, as you see, I ain’t got much choice in the matter. Here’s the case. You and your aunt and Mr. Embury was shut in those three rooms. Nobody else could get in. Come morning, the gentleman is dead—murdered. One of you two done it. It’s for us to find out which—unless the guilty party sees fit to confess.”

“I do! I confess!” cried Aunt Abby. “I did it, and I’m willing to go to prison!” She was clearly hysterical, and though her words were positive, they by no means carried conviction.

“Now, that’s all bosh,” declared Shane. “You’re sayin’ that, ma’am, to shield your niece. You know she’s the murderer and—”

Eunice flew at Shane like a wild thing. She grasped his arm and whirled him around toward her as she glared into his face, quivering with indignation.

“Coward!” she flung at him. “To attack two helpless women—to accuse me—me, of crime! Why, I could kill you: where you stand—for such an insinuation!”

“Say, you’re some tiger!” Shane exclaimed, in a sort of grudging admiration. “But better be careful of your words, ma’am! If you could kill me—ah, there!”

The last exclamation was brought forth by the sudden attack of Eunice, as she shook the big man so violently that he nearly lost his balance.

“Say, you wildcat! Be careful what you do! You are a tiger!”

“Yes,” Aunt Abby giggled, nervously. “Mr. Embury always called her ‘Tiger’.”

“I don’t wonder!” and Shane stared at Eunice, who had stepped back but who still stood, like a wild animal at bay, her eyes darting angry fire.

“Now, Mrs. Embury, let’s get down to business. Who’s your lawyer?

“I am,” declared Alvord Hendricks. “I am her counsel. I represent Mrs. Embury. Eunice, say nothing more. Leave it to me. And, first, Shane, you haven’t enough evidence to arrest this lady. That dropper thing is no positive information against her. It might be the work of the servants—or some intruder. The story of that housemaid is not necessarily law and gospel. Remember, you’d get in pretty bad if you were to arrest Mrs. Sanford Embury falsely! And my influence with your superiors is not entirely negligible. You’re doing your duty, all right, but don’t overstep your authority—or, rather, don’t let your desire to make a sensational arrest cloud your judgment.”

“That’s what I think, Mr. Hendricks,” said Driscoll, earnestly; “we’ve found the method, but I’m by no means sure we’ve found the criminal. Leastways, it don’t look sure to me. Eh, Shane?”

“Clear enough to me,” the big man growled; but he was quite evidently influenced by Hendricks’ words. “However, I’m willing to wait—but we must put Mrs. Embury under surveillance—”

“Under what!” demanded Eunice, her beautiful face again contorted by uncontrollable anger. “I will not be watched or spied upon!”

“Hush, Eunice,” begged Elliott. “Try to keep yourself calm. It does no good to defy these men—they are not really acting on their own initiative, but they are merely carrying out their duty as they see it.”