CHAPTER VIII THE MILK BOTTLE
"Nothing but an old milk bottle!" exclaimed Berg, disgustedly, as theexhibit was placed before him on the table.
That's all it was, and yet somehow the commonplace thing looked uncannywhen considered as evidence in a murder case. But was it evidence? Or wasit merely the remnant of a last week's picnic in the woods?
A search of the Swede's house had brought the thing to light, and now thebig fellow told again of his finding it.
Buried, he declared it was, not fifty feet from where he had seen thedying man. He had not thought at first, that it had any connection withthe murder, and had taken it merely on an impulse of thrifty acquisitionof anything portable. He told his wife to wash out the ill-smellingcontents, and she had done so.
"If you'd only let it alone!" wailed Groot. "What did the stuff smelllike? Sour milk?"
"No, no," and Sandstrom shook his head vigorously. "It bane like adroog."
"A droog?"
"Drugs, I suppose you mean," said Berg. "What sort of a drug? Camphor?Peppermint? Or, say, did it smell like prussic acid? Peach pits? Bitteralmonds? Hey?"
"Ay tank Ay don't know those names. But it smell bad. And it hadmolasses."
"You stick to that molasses! Well, then I say it's an old molasses bottlelong since discarded, and time and the weather had sunk it in the mud."
"Na, not weathers. It bane buried by somebody. Ay tank the murderer."
"The witness's thinks would be of more value," said the policeman who hadbrought the bottle, "if we hadn't found this bit of property also, in hisshanty."
And then, before the eyes of all present, he undid a parcel containing ablood-stained handkerchief! Blood-soaked, rather, for its original whitewas as incarnadined as the hypothetical seas.
"Hid in between their mattresses," he added; "looks like that settlesit!"
It did look that way, but had there been a question as to the import ofthis mute testimony, it was answered by the effect on the two Swedes. Thewoman sank back in her chair, almost fainting, and the man turned ashywhite, while his face took on the expression of despair that signifiesthe death of the last flicker of hope.
"Yours?" asked the coroner, pointing to the tell-tale thing and lookingat Sandstrom.
"Na!" and the blue eyes looked hunted and afraid. "Ay bane found it anearthe body,----"
"Yes, you did! Quit lying now, and own up! You're caught with the goodson. The jig is up, so you may as well confess decently. You hid this inyour mattress!"
"Yes, Ay hid it, but it is not mine. Ay found it anear the----"
"Don't repeat that trumped-up yarn! You killed that man! What did you dowith the knife?"
"Ay got na knife--"
"Yes, you have! Lots of knives. Come, Mrs. Sandstrom, what have you tosay?"
But the Swede woman could only incoherently repeat that her husband hadbrought home the handkerchief, and declared he had found it, as he hadfound the bottle, near the dead body of a strange man. They had hidden itquickly, lest some of the police come to their house; and the bottle theyhad washed to get rid of the foul odor.
"She's in earnest," said the coroner, looking sharply at her, "he toldher this tale and she believes it, even yet. Or if she doesn't, she'llstick to it that she does. You see, it all hangs together. Sandstromkilled Mr. Trowbridge, and probably the dying man _did_ call him Cain,and cry out 'Wilful murder!' for this fellow wouldn't be likely to makeup such a speech. But it referred to himself and he tried to place it onanother. The bottle story is a made-up yarn, by which he clumsily triedto imply a poisoning. The lead pencil found there, is Mr. Trowbridge'sown; the queer telephone call had nothing to do with the affair, andthere you are!"
The case was certainly plain enough. The stained handkerchief showedclearly that it had been used to wipe a bloody blade. The long red markswere unmistakable. There was no chance that it might have been used as abandage or aid to an injured person. The stains spoke for themselves, andproclaimed the horrid deed they mutely witnessed.
A few further questions brought only unintelligible replies from theSwede, and the verdict was speedy and unanimous.
Sandstrom was taken off to jail, but his wife was allowed to return toher home.
Avice felt sorry for the poor woman, and stepping to her side offeredsome words of sympathy.
"My man didn't do it, Miss," and the light blue eyes looked hopelesslysad. "He ba'n't that kind. He wouldn't harm anybody. He----"
But foreseeing an imminent scene, Judge Hoyt took Avice gently by the armand drew her away.
"Don't talk to her," he whispered, "you can do the poor thing no good,and she may become intractable. Let her alone."
Avice let herself be persuaded, and she followed the judge to thelibrary. On the way, however, she was stopped by Stryker, who said theboy wanted to speak to her.
"What boy?" asked Avice.
"That office boy, Miss Avice. He says just a minute, please."
"Certainly," she returned, kindly, and went back a few steps to findFibsy, bashfully twisting his cap in his hands as he waited for her.
"'Scuse me, Miss, but--are you boss now?"
"Boss? of what?"
"Of the--the diggin's--the whole layout--" More by the boy's gesturesthan his words, Alice concluded he meant her uncle's business rather thanthe home.
"Why, no, I don't suppose I am, child."
"Who is, then? The lawyer guy?"
"Judge Hoyt? No,--what do you want to know for?"
"Well, Miss, I want a day off--off me job, you know."
"Oh, is that all? You are--were my uncle's office boy, weren't you?"
"Yes'm."
"And your name is Fibsy?"
"Well, dat name goes."
"Then I'll take the responsibility of saying you may have your day off.Indeed, I'm sure you ought to. Go ahead, child, and if anybody inquiresabout it, refer him to me. But you must be back in your place tomorrow.They may need you in--in settling up matters, you know----"
"Oh, gee, yes! I'll be on deck tomorrow, Miss. But I want today somepin'fierce,--fer very special reasons."
"Very well, run along, Fibsy."
Avice stood looking after the red-headed boy, who seemed for the momentso closely connected with her uncle's memory. But he darted out of theopen front door and up the street, as one on most important businessbent.
The girl went on to the library, and found there Kane Landon and thereporter Pinckney busily engaged in the staccato chatter of reunion.Meeting for the first time in five years, they reverted to their collegedays, even before referring to the awfulness of the present situation.
"But I must beat it now," Pinckney was saying, as Avice appeared.
"Look me up, old scout, as soon as you can get around to it. A reporter'slife is not a leisure one, and I've got to cover this story in shortorder. Mighty unpleasant bit for you, that Cain speech. No harm done, butit will drag your name into the paper. So long. Good-by, Miss Trowbridge.I may see you again sometime,--yes?"
"I hope so," said Avice, a little absently. "Good-by."
Then she turned to Landon. For a moment they took each other's two handsand said no word.
Then, "It's great to see you again," he began; "I'd scarcely recognizethe little pig-tailed girl I played with five years ago."
"You teased me more than you played with me," she returned. "You weretwenty then, but you put on all the airs of a grown man."
"I was, too. I felt old enough to be your father. That's why I used tolecture you so much, don't you remember?"
"Indeed I do! You could make me mad by half a dozen words."
"I knew it, and I loved to do it! I expect I was an awful torment."
"Yes, you were. But tell me all about yourself. Why are you in New Yorkand not staying here? Oh, Kane, what does it all mean? I've been in suchmiserable uncertainty all the morning. Not that I thought for a minuteyou'd done anything--anything wrong, but it's all so horrible. Did
youquarrel with Uncle Rowly yesterday?"
"Yes, Avice, just as the little chap said. But don't talk about awfulthings now. It's all over, the harrowing part, I mean. Now, I just wantto look at you, and get acquainted all over again. Let's put off anythingunpleasant until another day."
"I remember that trait in you of old. Always put off everythingdisagreeable, and hurry on anything nice," and Avice smiled at therecollection.
"And not a bad philosophy, my dear. Now tell me of yourself. You arewell--and happy? I mean until this tragedy came."
"Yes, Kane, I've had a happy home here with Uncle. I liked it betterbefore Eleanor Blade came, but Uncle wanted a housekeeper, and sheapplied for the position and he took her. That was about a year or moreago, and Kane, what do you think? They were engaged to be married!"
"Yes, so I learned at the inquest. Don't you like her?"
"I don't know; I suppose so. But sometimes, I think I don't trust her."
"Don't trust anybody, my dear Avice. That's the safest and sanest plan."
"Have you become a cynic? You talk like one."
"Don't you want me to be one?"
"Surely not. I hate cynicism."
"Then I won't be one. For the only wish I have in life is to please you."Landon's voice fell lower, and glancing about to make sure there was noone in hearing, he went on, "All these years, Avice, I've been loving youmore and more. I've been striving to make a name and a fortune worthy ofyou. And I came home to further that purpose, and to see if there's anyhope for me. Is there, dear?"
"Oh, Kane, don't talk like that now. Why, just think, Uncle----"
"I know it, little girl. Uncle isn't yet buried. But when I saw you thismorning, for the first time in so long, and when I saw how beautiful youhave grown, I couldn't wait to tell you of my love and hopes. Tell me Imay hope,--tell me that, Avice."
"I don't know, Kane. You bewilder me. I never dreamed of this----"
"What, Avice! Never dreamed of it? Never even _dreamed_ that I lovedyou--that you could--some day, love me?"
Avice blushed and looked down. Perhaps she had dreamed,--just dreamed ofsuch a thing.
"Don't ask me about it now, Kane," she said, firmly. "I'm all nervous andunstrung. These awful excitements following one another so fast andfurious. Oh, I shall break down." The tears came, but Landon saidlightly, "No, you won't, girlie, it's all right. I'm here now to lookafter you. But you're right. I mustn't tease you now,--why, I'm back atmy old teasing tricks, amn't I?"
His strong, frank voice quieted Avice, and she looked up at him as JudgeHoyt entered the room.
"Well, Mr. Landon," he said, "I congratulate you on an escape from amighty unpleasant predicament. Things looked dark for a few moments backthere. But it all came out right. Queer coincidence, wasn't it?"
"It was all of that, Judge Hoyt. And it was probably more dangerousto--to my peace of mind, than I realized at the time. I was pretty muchbewildered at the attack, I can tell you. You see, that was all trueabout my call on my uncle, and it looked a little plausible, I suppose."
"H'm, yes. And are you staying East for a time?"
"Forever, I hope. I've had enough of the wild and woolly."
"Mr. Landon will stay here with us," said Avice, decidedly. "I invite himfor an indefinite stay."
"I hope you'll accept," observed Hoyt. "I'd be glad, Avice, for you tohave a man in the house. There'll be more or less unpleasant publicityafter this and, until it blows over, Mr. Landon can probably save youfrom tiresome interviews with reporters, if nothing more."
"Of course, I can do that. Shall you want to remain in this house Avice,after the estate is settled?"
"I don't know yet. Don't let's talk about that now, Kane."
"All right. What do you make of that crazy telephone message attributedto me, Judge Hoyt?"
"Why, Mr. Landon, if you don't mind, I'll not answer that question."
"But I do mind. I want you to answer it."
"Want me to answer it honestly?"
"Honestly, certainly."
"Then, sir, I think it was you who telephoned."
"Oh, you do? And I said that somebody had set a trap for my uncle? And Isaid I would give him Frangipanni, or whatever it was? And I said I'dsend him to the Caribbean Sea?"
"You asked me what I thought. You have it. Yes, I think you said thesethings, but I think they were some jests between your uncle and yourselfthat were perfectly intelligible to you two. I have no reason to thinkyou were angry at your uncle. Disappointed, doubtless, in not getting theloan you asked for, but still quite ready to forgive and forget. Now,honest, am I not right?"
Kane Landon had a curious look in his eyes. "You're a good guesser," hesaid, a little shortly, "but you haven't guessed right this time."
"Then I beg your pardon, but I still believe whoever telephoned thatfarrago of nonsense, had no intent but pleasantry of some sort."
Eleanor Black came bustling in. She looked strikingly beautiful in herblack gown. Not what is technically known as "mourning," but softlydraped folds of dull, lusterless silk, that threw into higher relief herclear olive complexion and shining black eyes.
"A family conclave?" she said, lightly. "May I join? But first may I nothave Mr. Landon duly presented to me?"
"Oh, surely, you've never really met, have you?" said Avice. "Mrs. Black,this is my cousin, or the same as cousin, for he's Uncle Rowly's nephew.Kane, my very good friend, Mrs. Black."
The two bowed, rather formally, and Mrs. Black murmured some conventionalphrases, to which Landon responded courteously.
Judge Hoyt took the occasion to draw Avice outside the hall.
"Let them get acquainted," he said, "and suppose you pay some slightattention to me. You've had eyes and ears for no one but that cousin eversince you first saw him this morning. And now you're asking him to livehere!"
"But you expressed approval of that!" and Avice looked surprised at histone.
"How could I do otherwise at the time? But I don't approve of it, I cantell you, unless, Avice, dearest, unless you will let us announce ourengagement at once. I mean after your uncle is buried, of course."
"Announce our engagement! You must be crazy. I've never said I'd marryyou."
"But you've never said you wouldn't. And you are going to. But all I askjust now, is that you'll assure me you're not in love with this Lochinvarwho has so unexpectedly come out of the West."
"Of course, I'm not!" But the emphasis was a little too strong and thecheek that turned away from him, a little too quickly flushed, to givethe words a ring of sincerity.
However, it seemed to satisfy Judge Hoyt. "Of course, you're not," heechoed. "I only wanted to hear you say it. And remember, my girl, you_have_ said it. And soon, as soon as you will let me, we will talk thisover, but not now. Truly, dear, I don't want to intrude, but you know,Avice, you must know how I love you."
With a little gasping sigh Avice drew away the hand Hoyt had taken in hisown, and ran back into the library.
She found Landon and Eleanor Black in a close conversation that seemedtoo earnest for people just introduced.
"Very well," Eleanor was saying, "let it be that way then. I'll give itto you this very afternoon. But I am not sure I approve,--" and then, asshe heard Avice enter, she continued, "of--of Western life myself."
The artifice was not altogether successful. Avice's quick ears detectedthe sudden change of inflection of the voice, and the slight involuntaryhesitation. But she ignored it and responded pleasantly to their nextcasual remarks.
The Mark of Cain Page 8