The Bondboy Part 20

"Where's Missis Chase?" demanded Greening again, turning his eyes suspiciously around the room.

"Upstairs, I told you Sol," replied Joe. "She went to bed early."

"Hus.h.!.+" cautioned Greening, holding up his hand, listening intently. "I hear her movin' around. Let me talk to her."

He tiptoed to the door at the foot of the stairs, and listened again; tiptoed back to the outer portal, which he had left swinging behind him, and closed it gently. There was no sound from above now to indicate that Ollie was awake. Sol stood near Isom's body, straining and listening, his hand to his ear.

"She must 'a' been turnin' over in bed," said he. "Well, I guess I'll have to call her. I hate to do it, but she's got to be told."

"Yes, she must be told," said Joe.

Sol stood as if reflecting on it a little while. Joe was on the other side of Isom's body, near the table. Both of them looked down into his bloodless face.

"You had words!" said Greening, looking sternly at Joe. "What about?"

"It was a matter between him and me, Sol, it don't concern anybody else," said Joe in a manner of dignity and reserve that was blunter than his words. Sol was not impressed by this implied rebuke, and hint to mind his own business.

"That ain't no answer," said he.

"Well, it will have to do for you, Sol," said Joe.

"I don't know about that," declared Sol. "If you can't give me the straight of it, in plain words, I'll have to take you up."

Joe stood thoughtfully silent a little while. Then he raised his head and looked at Sol steadily.

"If there's any arresting to be done--" he began, but checked himself abruptly there, as if he had reconsidered what he started to say.

"Hadn't we better pick Isom up off the floor?" he suggested.

"No, no; don't touch him," Greening interposed hurriedly. "Leave him lay for the coroner; that's the law."

"All right."

"I'll have to tell Missis Chase before we go," said Sol.

"Yes, you must tell her," Joe agreed.

Sol rapped on the woodwork of the wall at the bottom of the stairs with his big knuckles. The sound rose sudden and echoing in the house. Ollie was heard opening her door.

"Missis Chase--oh, Missis Chase!" called Greening.

"Who's that, who's that?" came Ollie's voice, tremulous and frightened, little above a whisper, from above.

"It's Sol Greening. Don't come down here, don't come down!"

"What was that noise? It sounded like a gun," said Ollie, a bit nearer the head of the stairs, her words broken and disjointed.

"Something's happened, something mighty bad," said Sol. "You stay right where you are till I send the old woman over to you--do you hear me?--stay right there!"

"Oh, what is it, what is it?" moaned Ollie. "Joe--where's Joe? Call him, Mr. Greening, call Joe!"

"He's here," Sol a.s.sured her, his voice full of portent "he's goin' away with me for a little while. I tell you it's terrible, you must stay right up there."

"Oh, I'm so afraid--I'm so afraid!" said Ollie, coming nearer.

"Go back! Go back!" commanded Greening.

"If you'll only stick to it that way," thought Joe as Ollie's moans sounded in his ears.

"Was it robbers--is somebody hurt?" she asked.

"Yes, somebody's hurt, and hurt bad," said Greening, "but you can't do no good by comin' down here. You stay right there till the old woman comes over; it'll only be a minute."

"Let me go with you. Oh, Mr. Greening, don't leave me here alone!" she implored.

"There's nothing to hurt you, Ollie," said Joe. "You do as Sol tells you and stay here. Go to your room and shut the door, and wait till Mrs.

Greening comes."

Sol leaned into the staircase and listened until he heard her door close. Then he turned and shut the kitchen window and the door leading into the body of the house, leaving the burning lamp on the table to keep watch over Isom and his money.

"We'll go out the front way," said Sol to Joe. "Nothing must be touched in that room till the coroner orders it. Now, don't you try to dodge me, Joe."

"I've got no reason to want to dodge any man," said Joe.

"Well, for your own sake, as well as your old mother's, I hope to G.o.d you ain't!" said Sol. "But this here thing looks mighty bad for somebody, Joe. I'm goin' to take you over to Bill Frost's and turn you over to the law."

Joe made no comment, but led the way around the house. At the kitchen window Greening laid a restraining hand on Joe's shoulder and stopped him, while he looked in at the corpse of Isom Chase.

"Him and me, we served on the same jury this afternoon," said Sol, nodding toward the window as he turned away. "I rode to overtake him on the way home, but he had the start of me; and I was just goin' in the gate when I heard that shot. I poled right over here. On the same jury, and now he's dead!"

As they approached the gate Joe looked back, the events of the past few minutes and the shock of the tragedy, which had fallen as swift as a lightning stroke, stunning him out of his usual cool reasoning.

There lay the house, its roof white in the moonlight, a little stream of yellow coming through the kitchen window, striking the lilac-bushes and falling brokenly on the gra.s.s beyond. There was reality in that; but in this whirl of events which crowded his mind there was no tangible thing to lay hold upon.

That Isom was dead on the kitchen floor seemed impossible and unreal, like an event in a dream which one struggles against the terror of, consoling himself, yet not convincingly, as he fights its sad illusions, with the argument that it is nothing but a vision, and that with waking it will pa.s.s away.

What was this awful thing with which Sol Greening had charged him, over which the whole neighborhood soon must talk and conjecture?

Murder!

There was no kinder word. Yet the full terror of its meaning was not over him, for his senses still swirled and felt numb in the suddenness of the blow. He had not meant that this accusation should fasten upon him when he sent Ollie from the room; he had not thought that far ahead.

His one concern was that she should not be found there, dressed and ready to go, and the story of her weakness and folly given heartlessly to the world.

And Curtis Morgan--where was he, the man to blame for all this thing?

Not far away, thought Joe, driving that white road in security, perhaps, even that very hour, while he, who had stood between him and his unholy desires, was being led away by Sol Greening like a calf in a rope. They were going to charge him with the murder of Isom Chase and take him away to jail.

How far would Morgan permit them to go? Would he come forward to bear his share of it, or would he skulk away like a coward and leave him, the bondman, to defend the name of his dead master's wife at the cost of his own honor and liberty, perhaps his life?

All that had gone before Isom threw his life away in that moment of blind anger, must be laid bare if he was to free himself of the shadow of suspicion. It was not the part of an honorable man to seek his own comfort and safety at the cost of a woman's name, no matter how unworthy he knew her to be, while that name and fame still stood flawless before the world. In the absence of some other avenue to vindication, a gentleman must suffer in silence, even to death. It would be cruel, unjust, and hard to bear, but that was the only way. He wondered if Ollie understood.