In Her Own Right Part 42

"Of course you may believe it," with an inane giggle. "I'm going to bring my art cla.s.s over to Clarendon to revel in your treasures, some day, soon. You'll be at home to them, won't you, dear Mr. Croyden?"

"Surely! I shall take pleasure in being at home," Croyden replied, soberly.

Then Macloud, who was talking with the Captain, was called over and presented, that being, Miss Carrington thought, the quickest method of getting rid of her. The evident intention to remain until he was presented, being made entirely obvious by Miss Erskine, who, after she had bubbled a bit more, departed.

"What is her name, I didn't catch it?--and" (observing smiles on Croyden and Miss Carrington's faces) "what is she?"

"I think father can explain, in more appropriate language!" Miss Carrington laughed.

"She's the most intolerable nuisance and greatest fool in Hampton!"

Captain Carrington exploded.

"A red flag to a bull isn't in it with Miss Erskine and father," Miss Carrington observed.

"But I hide it pretty well--while she's here," he protested.

"If she's not here too long--and you can get away, in time."

When the two men left the Carrington place, darkness had fallen. As they approached Clarendon, the welcoming brightness of a well-lighted house sprang out to greet them. It was Croyden's one extravagance--to have plenty of illumination. He had always been accustomed to it, and the gloom, at night, of the village residence, bright only in library or living room--with, maybe, a timid taper in the hall--set his nerves on edge. He would have none of it. And Moses, with considerable wonder at, to his mind, the waste of gas, and much grumbling to himself and Josephine, obeyed.

They had finished dinner and were smoking their cigars in the library, when Croyden, suddenly bethinking himself of a matter which he had forgotten, arose and pulled the bell.

"Survent, seh!" said old Mose a moment later from the doorway.

"Moses, who is the best carpenter in town?" Croyden asked.

"Mistah Snyder, seh--he wuz heah dis arfternoon, yo knows, seh!"

"I didn't know it," said Croyden.

"Why yo sont 'im, seh."

"_I_ sent him! I don't know the man."

"Dat's mons'us 'culiar, seh--he said yo sont 'im. He com'd 'torrectly arfter yo lef! Him an' a'nudder man, seh--I didn't know the nudder man, hows'ever."

"What did they want?" Croyden asked.

"Dey sed yo warn dem to look over all de place, seh, an' see what repairs wuz necessary, and fix dem. Dey wuz heah a'most two hours, I s'pose."

"This is most extraordinary!" Croyden exclaimed. "Do you mean they were in this house for two hours?"

"Ya.s.s, seh."

"What were they doing?"

"'Zaminin the furniture everywhere. I didn't stays wid em, seh--I knows Mistah Snyder well; he's bin heah off'n to wuk befo' yo c.u.m, seh. But I seed dem gwine th'oo de drawers, an' poundin on the floohs, seh. Dey went down to de cellar, too, seh, an wuz dyar quite a while."

"Are you sure it was Snyder?" Croyden asked.

"Sut'n'y! seh, don't you t'inks I knows 'im? I knows 'im from de time he wuz so high."

Croyden nodded. "Go down and tell Snyder I want to see him, either to-night or in the morning."

The negro bowed, and departed.

Croyden got up and went to the escritoire: the drawers were in confusion. He glanced at the book-cases: the books were disarranged. He turned and looked, questioningly, at Macloud--and a smile slowly overspread his face.

"Well, the tall gentleman has visited us!" he said.

"I wondered how long you would be coming to it!" Macloud remarked.

"It's the old ruse, in a slightly modified form. Instead of a telephone or gas inspector, it was a workman whom the servant knew; a little more trouble in disguising himself, but vastly more satisfactory in results."

"They are clever rogues," said Croyden--"and the disguise must have been pretty accurate to deceive Moses."

"Disguise is their business," Macloud replied, laconically. "If they're not proficient in it, they go to prison--sure."

"And if they _are_ proficient, they go--sometimes."

"Certainly!--sometimes."

"We'll make a tour of inspection--they couldn't find what they wanted, so we'll see what they took."

They went over the house. Every drawer was turned upside down, every closet awry, every place, where the jewels could be concealed, bore evidence of having been inspected--nothing, apparently, had been missed. They had gone through the house completely, even into the garret, where every board that was loose had evidently been taken up and replaced--some of them carelessly.

Not a thing was gone, so far as Croyden could judge--possibly, because there was no money in the house; probably, because they were looking for jewels, and scorned anything of moderate value.

"Really, this thing grows interesting--if it were not so ridiculous,"

said Croyden. "I'm willing to go to almost any trouble to convince them I haven't the treasure--just to be rid of them. I wonder what they will try next?"

"Abduction, maybe," Macloud suggested. "Some night a black cloth will be thrown over your head, you'll be tossed into a cab--I mean, an automobile--and borne off for ransom like Charlie Ross of fading memory."

"Moral--don't venture out after sunset!" laughed Croyden.

"And don't venture out at any time without a revolver handy and a good pair of legs," added Macloud.

"I can work the legs better than I can the revolver."

"Or, to make sure, you might have a guard of honor and a gatling gun."

"You're appointed to the position--provide yourself with the gun!"

"But, seriously!" said Macloud, "it would be well to take some precaution. They seem obsessed with the idea that you have the jewels, here--and they evidently intend to get a share, if it's possible."

"What precaution, for instance?" scoffed Croyden.

Macloud shrugged his shoulders, helplessly.

"I wish I knew," he said.