by Leroy Scott
CHAPTER XXXI
Larry was far more deeply moved this time when Maggie drove awaywith Dick than on that former occasion when he had tried to play withadroitness upon her psychological reactions. Now he knew that her veryworld was shaken; that her soul was stunned and reeling; that she wasfighting with all her strength for a brief outward composure.
He had loved her for months, but he had never so loved her as in thishour when all her artificial defenses had been battered down and she hadbeen just a bewildered, agonized girl, with just the emotions andfirst thoughts that any other normal girl would have had under the samecircumstances. His great desire had been to be with her, to comfort her,help her; but he realized that she had been correct in her instinct tobe by herself for a while, to try to comprehend it all, to try to thinkher way out.
When Maggie was out of sight he excused himself from having tea, leftHunt and Miss Sherwood upon the veranda, and sought his study. Butthough he had neglected his work the whole day, he now gave it noattention. He sat at his desk and thought of Maggie: tried to thinkof what she was going to do. Her situation was so complicated with bigelements which she would have to handle that he could not foretell justwhat her course would be. It was a terrific situation for a young woman,who was after all just a very young girl, to face alone. But there wasnothing for him but to wait for news from her. And she had not said eventhat she would ever let him hear.
While he considered these matters he had risen and paced the room. Oncehe had paused at a French window which opened upon a side veranda, andhad seen below him a few yards away Joe Ellison, whose interest in hisflowers had established his workday from sunrise to sunset. Joe Ellisonhad been pulling tiny weeds that were daring to attempt to get a startin a rose-garden. Larry's mind had halted a moment upon Joe. Here atleast was a contented man: one who, no matter what happened, wouldremain in ignorance of possibly great events which would intimatelyconcern him. Then Larry had left the window and had returned to histhoughts of Maggie.
But Larry's thoughts were not to remain exclusively with Maggie forlong. Shortly after six Judkins entered and announced that a man was atthe door with a message. The man had refused to come in, saying he wasonly a messenger and was in a hurry; and had refused to give Judkinsthe message, saying that it was verbal. Thinking that some word had comefrom his grandmother, or possibly even from Maggie, Larry went out uponthe veranda. Waiting for him was a nondescript man he did not know.
"Mr. Brandon, sir?" asked the man.
"Yes. You have a message for me?"
Before the man could reply, there came a shout from the shrubbery beyondthe drive:
"Grab him, Smith! He's the man!"
Instantly Smith's steely arms were about Larry, pinning his elbows tohis sides, and a man broke from the shrubbery and hurried toward thehouse. Instinctively Larry started to struggle, but he ceased as herecognized the man coming up the steps. It was Gavegan. Larry realizedthat he had been shrewdly trapped, that resistance would serve no end,and the next moment handcuffs were upon his wrists.
"Well, Brainard," gloated Gavegan, "we've landed you at last!"
"So it seems, Gavegan."
"You thought you was damned clever, but I guess you know now you ain'tone, two, three!"
"Oh, I knew how clever you are, Gavegan," Larry responded dryly, "andthat you'd get me sooner or later if I hung around."
As a matter of fact Larry's capture, which was as unspectacular as hisescape had been strenuous, was the consequence of no cleverness atall. Larry had said to Barney Palmer the night before that he knew whoBarney's sucker was; and Barney had passed this information along toChief Barlow. "Follow every clue; luck may be with you and one of theclues may turn up what you want":--this is in substance an unwrittenrule of routine procedure which effects those magnificent policesolutions which are presented as more mysterious than the originalmystery--for it is well for the public to believe that its policeofficers are unfailingly more clever than its criminals. Barlow haddone some routine thinking: if Larry Brainard knew Dick Sherwood wasthe sucker, then watching Dick Sherwood might possibly reveal thewhereabouts of Larry Brainard. Barlow had passed this tip along toGavegan. Gavegan had grumbled to himself that it was only a thousand toone shot; but luck had been with him, and his long shot had won.
Miss Sherwood, Hunt behind her, had been drawn by the sound of voicesaround to the side of the veranda where stood the four men. "What areyou doing?" she now sharply demanded of Gavegan.
"Don't like to make any unpleasant scene, Miss Sherwood, but I've gottatell you that this so-called Brandon is a well-known crook." Gaveganenjoyed few things more than astounding people with unpleasant facts."His real name is Brainard; he's done time, and now he's wanted by theNew York police for a tough job he pulled."
"I knew all that long ago," said Miss Sherwood.
"Eh--what?" stammered Gavegan.
"Mr. Brainard told me all that the first time I saw him."
"Hello, Gavegan," said Hunt, stepping forward.
"Well, I'll be--if you ain't that crazy--" Again the ability to expresshimself coherently and with restraint failed Gavegan. "If you ain't thatpainter that lived down at the Duchess's!"
"Right, Gavegan--as a detective always should be. And Larry Brainard wasthen, and is now, my friend."
Miss Sherwood again spoke up sharply. "Mr. Gavegan--if that is yourname--you will please take those foolish things off Mr. Brainard'swrists."
Gavegan had been cheated out of creating a sensation. That discomfitureperhaps made him even more dogged than he was by nature.
"Sorry, Miss, but he's charged with having committed a crime and is afugitive from justice, and I can't."
"I'll be his security. Take them off."
"Sorry to refuse you again, Miss. But he's a dangerous man--got awayonce before. My orders is to take no risks that'll give him anotherchance for a get-away."
Miss Sherwood turned to Larry. "I'll go into town with you, and so willMr. Hunt. I'll see that you get bail and a good lawyer."
"Thank you, Miss Sherwood," Larry said. "Gavegan, I guess we're ready tostart."
"Not just yet, Brainard. Sorry, Miss Sherwood, but we've got a searchwarrant for your place. We just want to have a look at the room Brainardused. No telling what kind of crooked stuff he's been up to. And to makethe search warrant O.K. I had it issued in this county and brought alonga county officer to serve it. Show it to the lady, Smith."
"I have no desire to see it, Mr. Gavegan. I have more interest inwatching you while you go through my things." And giving Gavegan a lookwhich made an unaccustomed flush run up that officer's thick neck andredden his square face, she led the way into Larry's study. "This isthe room where Mr. Brainard works," she said. "Through that door is hisbedroom. Everything here except his clothing is my property. I shallhold you rigidly responsible for any disorder you may create or anydamage you may do. Now you may go ahead."
"Let's have all your keys, Brainard," Gavegan choked out.
Larry handed them over. With Miss Sherwood, Hunt, and Larry lookingsilently on, the two men began their examination. They began with thepapers on Larry's desk and in its drawers; and in all his life Gaveganhad not been so considerate in a search as he now was with MissSherwood's blue eyes coldly upon him. They unlocked cabinets,scrutinized their contents, shook out books, examined the backs ofpictures, took up rugs; then passed into Larry's bedroom. Miss Sherwoodmade no move to follow the officers into that more intimate apartment,and the other two watchers remained with her.
A minute passed. Then Gavegan reentered, a puzzled, half-triumphant lookon his red face, holding out a square of paint-covered canvas.
"Found this thing in Brainard's chiffonier. What the he--I mean what'sit doing out here?"
There was not an instant's doubt as to what the thing was. Larrystarted, and Hunt started, and Miss Sherwood started. But it was MissSherwood who first spoke.
"Why, it's a portrait of Miss Cameron, in costume! And painted by Mr.Hunt!" In amazeme
nt she turned first upon Larry and upon Hunt. "When didyou ever paint her portrait, when you did not meet Miss Cameron tillyou met her here? And, Mr. Brainard, how do you come to possess MissCameron's portrait?"
It was Gavegan who spoke up promptly, and not either of the two suddenlydiscomfited men. And Gavegan instantly sensed in the situation a chanceto get even for the humiliation his self-esteem had just suffered.
"Miss Cameron nothing! Her real name is Maggie Carlisle, and she usedto live at a dump of a pawnshop down on the East Side run by Brainard'sgrandmother. Brainard knew her there, and so did Mr. Hunt."
"But--but--" gasped Miss Sherwood--"she's been coming out here as MaggieCameron!"
"I tell you your Maggie Cameron is Maggie Carlisle!" said Gavegangloatingly. "I've known her for years. Her father is Old JimmieCarlisle, a notorious crook. And she's mixed up right now with herfather and some others in a crooked game. And Brainard here used to besweet on her, and probably still is, and if he's been letting her comehere, without telling you who she is--well, I guess you know the answer.Didn't I tell you, Miss, that give me a chance and I'd turn up somethingagainst this guy Brainard!"
Miss Sherwood's face was white, but set with grim accusation that wasonly waiting to pronounce swift judgment. "Mr. Hunt, is it true thatMiss Cameron is this Maggie Carlisle the officer mentions, and that youknew it all the while?"
"Yes--" began the painter.
"Don't blame him, Miss Sherwood," Larry interrupted. "He didn't tell youbecause I begged him not to as a favor to me. Blame me for everything."
Her judgment upon Hunt was pronounced with cold finality, her eyesstraight into Hunt's: "Whatever may have been Mr. Hunt's motives, Iunalterably hold him to blame."
She turned upon Larry. The face which he had only seen in gracious moodswas as inflexibly stern as a prosecuting attorney's.
"We're going to go right to the bottom of this, Mr. Brainard. Youtoo have known all along that this Miss Cameron was really the MaggieCarlisle this officer speaks of?"
"Yes."
"And you have known all along that she was the daughter of thisnotorious criminal, Old Jimmie Carlisle?"
The impulse surged up in Larry to tell the newly learned truth aboutMaggie. But he remembered Maggie's injunction that the truth must neverbe known. He checked his revelation just in time.
"Yes."
"And is it true that Maggie Carlisle is herself what is known as acrook?--or has had crooked inclinations or plans?"
"It's like this, Miss Sherwood--"
"A direct answer, please!"
"Yes."
"And is it true, as this officer has suggested, that you were in lovewith her yourself?"
"Yes."
"You are aware of my brother's infatuation for her? That he has askedher to marry him?"
"Yes."
Her voice now sounded more terrible to Larry. "I took you in to give youa chance. And your repayment has been that, knowing all these things,you have kept silent and let me and my brother be imposed upon by aswindling operation. And who knows, since you admit that you lovethe girl, that you have not been a partner in the conspiracy from thefirst!"
"That's exactly the idea, Miss!" put in Gavegan.
Larry had foreseen many possible wrong turns which his plan might take,but he was appalled by the utter unexpectedness of the actual disaster.And yet he recognized that the evidence justified Miss Sherwood'sjudgment of him. It all made him seem an ingrate and a swindler.
For the moment Larry was so overwhelmed that he made no attempt tospeak. And since for once Gavegan was content merely to gloat over histriumph, there was stiff silence in the room until Miss Sherwood saidin the cold voice of a judge after a jury has brought in a verdict ofguilty:
"Of course, if you think there is anything you may say for yourself, Mr.Brainard, you now have the chance to say it."
"I have much to say, but I can't blame you if you refuse to believemost of it," Larry said desperately, fighting for what seemed his lastchance. "I loved Maggie Carlisle. I believed she had splendid qualities.Only she was dominated by the twisted ideas Old Jimmie Carlisle hadplanted in her. I wanted to eradicate those twisted ideas, and makeher good qualities her ruling ones. But she didn't believe in me.She thought me a soft-head, a police stool, a squealer. Then I had todisappear; you know all about that. Not till I had been with you forseveral weeks did I learn that she was being used in a swindling schemeagainst Dick.
"I did think of telling you or Dick. But my greatest interest was toawaken that better person I believed to be in her; and I knew that thecertain result of my exposing her to you would be for me to lose thelast bit of influence I had with her, and for her to pass right on toanother enterprise of similar character. So the idea came to me that ifI didn't expose her, but caused her to be received with every courtesyby her intended victims, the effect upon her would be that she wouldfeel a revulsion for what she was doing and she would come to her bestsenses. I told this to Mr. Hunt; that's why he agreed not to give heraway. And another point, though frankly this was not so important to me:it seemed to me that a good hard jolt might be just what was needed tomake Dick take life more seriously, and I saw in this affair a chancefor Dick to get just the jolt he needed.
"That's all, Miss Sherwood. Except that I have seen signs which make mebelieve that what I figured would happen to Maggie Carlisle have begunto happen to her."
"Bunk!" snorted Gavegan.
"I know that part of what he says is true," put in Hunt.
Miss Sherwood ignored Hunt and his remark. The look of controlled wrathwhich she held upon Larry did not change. Larry recognized that hisstatement had sounded most implausible. Miss Sherwood in her indignationconsidered only that her kindness had been betrayed, her hospitalityoutraged, and that those she had accepted as friends had sought totrick her family in the worst way she could conceive; and she spokeaccordingly.
"If that is the best Mr. Brainard has to say for himself, Mr. Gavegan,you may take him with you, and without any interference from me. I askonly that you take him out of the house at once."
With that she moved from the room, not looking again at either Huntor Larry. For a brief space there was silence, while Gavegan let histriumph feed gloatingly upon the sight of his prisoner.
This brief silence was broken by a low, strange sound, like a humancry quickly repressed, that seemed to come from just outside the Frenchwindows.
"What was that?" Larry asked quickly.
"I didn't hear anything," said Gavegan whose senses had been thoroughlyconcentrated upon his triumph.
"I did," said Hunt. "On the veranda."
"We'll see. Watch him--" to the county officer; and Gavegan followedHunt to the French windows and looked out. "No one on the veranda, andno one in sight," he reported. "You fellows must have been dreaming."
He returned and faced Larry. "I guess you'll admit, Brainard, that I'vegot you for keeps this time."
"Then suppose we be starting for Headquarters." Larry responded.
Hunt moved to Larry's side. "I'll just trail along after you, Larry.Anyhow, this doesn't seem to be any place for me."
A few minutes afterwards Larry was in a car beside Gavegan, speedingaway from Cedar Crest toward the city. Larry's thoughts were thegloomiest he had entertained since he had come out of Sing Sing monthsbefore with his great dream. All that he had counted on had gone wrong.He was in the hands of the police, and he knew how hard the police wouldbe. He had incurred the hostility of Miss Sherwood and had lost what hadseemed a substantial opportunity to start his career as an honest man.The only item of his great plan in which he did not seem to have failedcompletely was Maggie. And he did not know what Maggie was going to do.