CHAPTER VIII.
WHAT THE BROKER'S WILL SAID.
When the Bradys entered the morgue they found Lizzie Dalton there,bitterly weeping, and the keeper showing her the body said to be herfather's.
The man's head was gone, as if it had been severed by the wheels of apassing boat. The hands were nearly destroyed and the clothing was in agood state. The keeper was asking the girl:
"An' yer recognize him as yer father?"
"It must be," replied Lizzie, with a sob. "On the finger is a ringwhich I know belonged to him, the clothing certainly is his and thekeys, papers and penknife found in the pockets belonged to him. As youcan see, the envelopes have his name and address on them."
Just then the girl saw the Bradys.
They bowed to her and Old King Brady said, in kindly tones:
"We hope you will make no error, Miss Dalton. Let the identification becomplete. Everything depends upon your verdict."
"Oh, I am positive it is poor papa," said the weeping girl, "for no onebut he could have had the things found on this corpse."
The detectives examined the body and the effects.
They then left the Morgue with the girl.
She was deeply affected and they brought her home in a carriage.
When they left her at her door and departed, the Bradys were in abewildered state of mind and the old detective said:
"Harry, I'm completely puzzled again."
"On account of the girl's positive identification of that body?"
"Yes. If it wasn't Dalton's corpse she would not declare it was."
"But how about the body we traced to the swamp in Georgia? Could ithave been brought North again and thrown in the river here?"
"Such a thing might have occurred."
"It seems improbable, though."
"Very true. But there's no way to account for the finding of this bodyhere unless that's what happened."
"Then we are beyond our depth again."
"So it appears. We may be deep enough to solve an ordinary mystery, butthe depth of this one seems to be too much for us. At first we imaginedwe had the whole thing thoroughly sifted out. Now we've received asevere setback. It brings us to where we started, practically. All ourtheories may have been wrong. Sim Johnson and Ronald Mason may beinnocent men. Perhaps we wronged them by unjust suspicions based uponcircumstantial evidence."
"Then you think we had better drop the case?"
Old King Brady nodded, and replied:
"I don't see what else we can do now. If the man found in the river isDalton, the body is in such a state that it will be utterly impossibleto tell whether he was a victim of foul play, suicide, or accident.There is absolutely nothing about the body to indicate what the causeof his death was."
"I don't fancy giving up the case."
"Well, we never before found a job we couldn't finish successfully,"said the old detective. "But how we are to unravel the mystery of thisman's death is beyond my power of thinking."
Harry pondered a few moments in silence.
Several ideas passed through his mind and he finally said:
"Will you stick to the case a while longer if I do?"
"Certainly. Why did you ask that question?"
"Because we haven't satisfied ourselves about what Mason and the blackvalet were doing on the river with that boatman. If we find that theold gray-bearded fellow was the one who brought the body to the morgue,it would seem to indicate that Mason and the coon know something abouthow Mr. Dalton may have met his doom. Remember the object they hadtowing behind the boat may have been the old broker's corpse. We canfind out by attending the coroner's inquest and gaining a glimpse ofthe man who picked up the body."
"Then we shall do so."
On the following day they went to the morgue again and there found thecoroner and his jury.
The inquest was in progress.
As the boatman who found the body was the only witness present theBradys saw him the moment they entered the building.
It proved that their suspicion was correct.
He was the same little old man whom they had seen rowing Mason andJohnson out on the river.
Satisfied of this and having learned his address, the detectives leftthe building with renewed hope in their hearts.
Outside, Harry said to his partner:
"It's the same fellow, sure enough."
"No doubt about it, Harry. But then, he may have found the body longbefore he met the negro and Mason. He may have learned whose corpse itwas and telegraphed to Mason to come down to the river and identifyit."
Harry shook his head.
"I don't agree with your view," said he.
"Why not? It's plausible."
"No, it ain't. It don't account for Johnson being there ahead ofMason."
"By Jove, I didn't think of that."
"I tell you, Old King Brady, the whole circumstance is so suspiciousthat I'm yet of the opinion that the whole thing is a deep-laid plot,and I'm convinced that we will get at the bottom of the mystery if wekeep a watch on the foxy Mr. Mason."
"It won't do any harm to try a while longer."
Harry looked pleased to hear this, and they went downtown and put theirplan in operation at once.
Within the next few days several important events occurred.
The body was taken from the morgue and was buried from Mr. Dalton'shouse, Lizzie and Mason being the chief mourners.
The Bradys had found out who Mr. Dalton's lawyer was.
Having called on him and explained their suspicions of Mason, theyasked him if he had seen Mr. Dalton's will.
He told them that Mason had given it to him that morning, with arequest that it be read at the house that afternoon.
It was then sealed up and according to Mason's story, had been in Mr.Dalton's safe a long time, in the Broad street office.
"We must hear the contents of that will," said Old King Brady. "As Masonis an unscrupulous man, we fear he may have tampered with it."
"You might disguise yourselves and go with me," suggested the lawyer."I could tell Mason you were called on as witnesses."
"Very well. What time are you going there?"
"I'll leave here at four o'clock."
"We shall be on hand to go with you."
With this understanding they separated.
The Bradys went home and disguised themselves.
Both were expert at such work, and quickly made such a wonderful changein their outward appearance that they could safely defy recognition.
Harry was made up as a stylish young woman, and Old King Brady, in ablack wig and beard, looked like a minister.
The lawyer did not know them when they returned to his office, andlaughed heartily when he found out who they were.
"I never saw such skillful disguising done before," he exclaimed,admiringly, "and I can assure you that Mason will not know who youare."
They proceeded to Mr. Dalton's house and were introduced to Lizzie andthe broker's nephew as two witnesses to the reading of the will.
Neither Mason nor the girl knew the detectives.
When all were seated and the lawyer had made a few remarks about hisbusiness, he opened the seals on the will and read it aloud.
By this paper the old broker left a fortune amounting to half amillion, most of which was invested in stocks, bonds and mortgages.
But it was a peculiar will.
After speaking of the high regard in which he held Ronald Mason, thebroker went on to say that he earnestly desired his daughter to marrythe young man. If she did so she was to receive half the fortune. Ifshe failed to do so, every cent was to go to Mason.
The brokerage business was left to him to do with it as he pleased.
When the lawyer ceased reading, Lizzie Dalton was as pale as death.
Rising to her feet she bitterly denounced the terms of the will, andsaid:
"I don't believe my father ever wrote such a will. He always wasopposed to Mason marrying me. So was I. A
nd what is more, if I forfeitevery dollar coming to me, I'll never marry that man!"
She pointed at Mason.
His clean-shaven face was convulsed with anger.
"So!" he sneered. "That's your answer, is it?"
"Yes!" she cried, hotly. "I hate you, Ronald Mason, and you know it."
"Oh, you'll regret your hasty decision."
"Never! Never!"
"Then if you reject the terms of that will you are entitled to nothing,and therefore you can clear out of here. This house and everything ismine. I am the master here now. You get out!"
"Hold on, there! I've got something to say about this," said Old KingBrady, as he flung off his disguise and seized the disputed will.
The Bradys Beyond Their Depth; Or, The Great Swamp Mystery Page 8