CHAPTER IX
IRIS IN DANGER
Wearily, Iris went upstairs to her own room, and closed the door. Thenshe opened it again, for the night was hot and stifling. Without turningon a light, she went and sat by an open window, leaning her arms on thesill, and staring, with unseeing gaze, out into the night.
She was thinking about Bannard, and her thoughts were in a chaos. Notfor a moment did she believe him guilty of his aunt's death, but shecould not help a conviction that he had been at Pellbrook that Sundayafternoon. She wasted no time on the inexplicable mystery of the lockedroom, for, she reasoned, whoever did kill Mrs. Pell escaped afterward,so that point had no bearing on Winston's connection with the crime.Moreover, she knew, as she feared the police also knew, that Bannard wasdeeply in debt, and as he had received the substantial check from hisaunt, and had banked the same, it was all, in a way, circumstantialevidence that was strongly indicative.
Roger Downing had seen Win around Pellbrook about noon, or he thoughthe had, of that she was sure, and Roger's declaration that he would denythis was of little value, for Hughes would get it out of him, she knew.
Arrest wasn't conviction, to be sure, but--Iris resolutely put away herown growing suspicions of Bannard. She would stand by him, even in theface of evidence or testimony--she would--and then she began tospeculate as to the fortune. Those gems were hidden somewhere--andwithout Winston to help her how was she to look for them? Knowing UrsulaPell's tricksy spirit, the jewels might be in the most absurd andunexpected place. Crypt? Where was any crypt? She inclined a little tothe idea of its being in some church, not in Berrien; for with all Mrs.Pell's foolishness, Iris didn't think she would hide the treasure in anybut a safe place. And too, the crypt might well be merely the vaults ofsome safe deposit company--in Chicago, perhaps, or New York. It wasmaddening! Iris thought over the events since the day of her aunt'sdeath. The awful tragedy itself, the mystery of the unknown assailantand his manner of escape, the fearful scenes of the inquest, thefuneral, and the police searchings since, and, finally, the arrest ofBannard. It seemed to Iris she couldn't stand anything more; and yet,she realized, it had but begun. The mystery was as deep as ever, thejewels were missing, perhaps would never be found, and Winston's caselooked very dark against him.
"I _must_ find the jewels," Iris mused, as she had done a hundred timesbefore. "And I must do it by my wits. They are somewhere in safety--ofthat I'm sure, and, too, Aunt Ursula has left some hint, some clue totheir hiding-place. If I'm to be of any help to Win, the first thing todo is to ferret out this matter. Then, we may be better able to tracethe----"
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of what seemed to her to be ashadow, crossing the lawn below her. The shrubbery was dense, and thenight dark, but she discerned a faint semblance of a person skulkingamong the trees. She sat motionless, but the shadow faded, and she couldsee nothing more of it. Concluding she had been mistaken, she sighedand was about to draw the blinds and make a light, when she was seizedwith a sudden spirit of nervous energy that impelled her to _do_something--anything, rather than go to bed, where she knew she wouldonly toss sleeplessly on the pillow.
Silently, not to disturb Miss Darrel, she crossed the hall and wentdownstairs. With only a vague notion of looking around, she went intoher aunt's sitting room, and flashed on a light. It was the table lampthat had been found broken on the floor at the time of the tragedy, butthat now, replaced by a new electrolier, gave a pleasant, soft light.Coiling up the long green cord, lest she trip on it, Iris sank into aneasy chair near the table.
Restlessly, she arose and walked about the room. Though familiar withevery detail, it looked strange to her, as a room does when one is thesole occupant. She opened the wall-safe, and stared into its emptiness.She pulled open some drawers of a cabinet, looked into a few boxes, andwith no definite purpose, sat down at her aunt's desk. Disinterestedly,she looked over some books and papers, but she knew them all by heart.She ran over some bundles of letters, hoping to find a penciledmemorandum on the backs, that had been hitherto unnoticed.
Nothing met her eye that seemed important, and she turned from the desk,her glance falling on the cretonne window curtains that overhung thelighter lace ones.
"Come out!" she cried, and then quickly, "no, _don't_ come out! Staywhere you are! Who are you?"
The curtain moved very slightly, and Iris rose, and stood, holding theback of her chair. Her heart was beating wildly, for though possessedof average courage, to be alone at midnight in a room of sinistermemories, and see the folds of a curtain sway ever so little is, to saythe least, disturbing.
"Who are you, I say!" she repeated angrily, but there was no response,and the curtain hung still.
A terror passed through her, and left her shivering, with an icy grip ather heart. Though not at all inclined toward a belief in thesupernatural, there was an uncanny feeling in the atmosphere and Iristrembled with a strange, weird feeling, as of impending disaster. Sheedged a step backward, but as she did so the curtain was flung aside,and a man stood disclosed--a tall figure, with strong, muscular frame,and arms extended in a threatening gesture.
"Not a word!" he whispered, "not a sound!" and the glint of a smallrevolver flashed toward her. But she was too petrified with fear tospeak, for the man was masked, and the effect of the blackavisedapparition took her breath away. Only for a moment, however, and then awave of relief surged over her. For, alarming as a human intruder maybe, he is less frightful than a supernatural visitant.
The color came back to her white cheeks, and she said scornfully, "I amnot afraid of you----"
"You'd better be, then," and the man moved nearer to her. "I've no wishto harm you, but if you raise an alarm, I shall consider my own safetyfirst!"
"Coward!"
"Nonsense! I don't mean before yours, you've nothing to fear. But ifyou're inclined to call help, I'll have to make it impossible for you todo so."
The voice was that of an educated man, but entirely unfamiliar to Iris.Her terror left her, as she realized that at least she hadn't to dealwith a low-class, uncouth ruffian.
"Why should I call help, since you say I've nothing to fear?" she said,trying to speak coolly, but still watching the carefully held pistol.
"Nothing to fear if you do as I say."
"And what do you say?"
The masked figure came a little nearer. "I say----" he began, but Irisinterrupted.
"Stay where you are! I am not afraid of your pistol; your voice tells meyou would not shoot a defenceless woman, but I command you to keep yourdistance."
"My voice belies me, then," he returned coolly. "I'd shoot you quicker'na wink, were it necessary to make my getaway. But, listen; you will beimmediately unmolested, if you give me what I have come here to get. Iadvise you to give it willingly, but if not--then I must get it as bestI can."
"Take off your mask, won't you?" and Iris' tone was almost formal. "Iknow you, don't I?"
"You do not, and something tells me you never will. Pardon me, if Iretain my protecting decoration----"
"Scarcely a decoration," murmured Iris, who was striving to thinkquickly what to do.
"Thank you; that implies your belief in a fair share of good looks on mypart. But that's a matter of no moment. And time passes. I am here toask you for a matter of no great moment after all. I want the pin thatyour late aunt left you in her will."
"Oh, then you are William Ashton?"
"Careful! Not so loud. Yes--I am none other than he." A mock dramaticgesture accompanied the phrase, and Iris involuntarily smiled.
"You are charming when you smile," the visitor went on. "I may say that,since I am not making a social call----"
"You seem to be, I think," Iris interrupted him.
"Far from it! You are under a distinct misapprehension. But, alas! yoursmiles and charms are not the prize I'm seeking. I want that pin," forthe first time he spoke a little roughly, "and I'm going to have it!"
"What under the heavens do you want of that pin?" excla
imed Iris,surprised beyond all thought of fear. She had at first supposed he wasafter the jewels, or money, at least.
"Never mind what for. Are you going to hand it over?"
"I suppose you are making a collection of dramatic trifles, like Mr.Pollock. It seems to be a popular pursuit, this gathering material for aminiature junk-shop!"
"So? Well, are you going to give it to me? Why didn't you put it on thegate post to-night?"
"For the very good reason that I haven't got it."
"Don't talk that useless chatter. Of course you have it."
"But I haven't. I threw it away, when the lawyer gave it to me, and----"
"No; you didn't. You only pretended to. Come; now, where is it?"
"Will you go away if I give it to you?" Iris was struck with an idea.
"If you give me your word of honor that you're giving me the rightone."
This dissuaded her, for she had intended to give him one from her beltribbon.
"I tell you I don't _know_ where it is. Now, cease this uselessinterview, please, and leave me."
"I'll do nothing of the sort! You know where that pin is, and I am sureit's hidden in this room--"
"How utterly absurd you are! Why, _why_ do you want it? I believe you'recrazy!"
"I'm not, as you'll find out! But I intend to have the pin, so make upyour mind to that!" He sprang toward her, laying his automatic on atable, and with a single gesture, it seemed to Iris, he had a soft silkhandkerchief tied over her mouth, and around her head, in such fashionthat she couldn't utter a sound.
"I'm sorry, as I told you," he went on, in a business-like voice, "but I_must_ obtain that little piece of property. Will you change your mindand tell me where it is?"
Iris shook her head vigorously, meaning that she did not know where itwas, but he chose to think she meant a mere negative.
"Then I'll make you!" and he took hold of her arm and twisted it. Shemoaned with pain, but he picked up the revolver and threatened her.
Iris was now really frightened, and realized that his gentler mood hadpassed, and she was in desperate danger. She cast appealing glances athim, but he was oblivious to her piteous eyes, and demanded the pin.
Suddenly the thought came to her that the man was crazy, really amaniac, and in view of this she determined to use her wits to extricateherself from this dangerous situation. If demented, he might shoot heras likely as not, and she thought deeply and carefully what it was bestto do. He was distinctly clever, as she had heard maniacs often are, soshe dared not fool him too openly.
Therefore, she acted rather defiantly, until, as she had hoped, thisattitude on her part brought a rough, hard twist of her slender arm,that really brought the tears to her eyes.
With a limp gesture of surrender, she nodded her head at him, while paincontorted her face.
"Sorry," he said, again, "but there's no other way. Does that meanyou're going to give me the pin?"
Iris nodded acquiescence, and he stipulated, "The real one?"
Again she nodded, salving her conscience by the thought that herfalsehood was told in self-defence.
"Where is it? No, you needn't speak yet, indicate where it is, and I'llget it."
Iris nodded her head toward the desk, and the man went to it. He ran hisfingers lightly over the various compartments, watching her the while,and as he touched one, she nodded.
She had remembered a small packet of papers, pinned with an old andsomewhat rusty pin, and she determined to pass this pin off on him, ifshe could make herself dramatically convincing.
"I've always thought I could be an actress," the poor child said toherself, "now's my time to make good."
So, by dint of indicative nods and glances, she easily made her visitordiscover the packet and the pin. The papers were valueless, and the pin,which held a paper band round them, was an ordinary, dull, old-lookingone.
It was Iris' clever play of her eyes and her hands,--that betokened agreat unwillingness to part with it, but did so under duress--thatsucceeded in making the thief believe it was the pin he was after. Hescrutinized the papers, and threw them aside.
"A good hiding-place," he said, putting the papers back where they hadbeen. "As obvious as Poe's 'Purloined Letter.' I don't ask you if thisis _the_ pin, for your speaking countenance has told me it is. I onlybid you a very good evening."
He rose quickly, and without a further glance at Iris, he turned offthe electric light on the table, and she heard him step softly throughthe living room, and out of one of the low windows that gave on to theverandah.
She sat where he had left her, not really in pain, but in somediscomfort. Then, lifting her hands she managed to untie thehandkerchief gag. It wasn't difficult, though the tight knot took a fewmoments to loosen.
She was tempted to turn on the light, and look at the silk handkerchiefstill in her hand, but she feared her visitor might discover the fraudand return.
She crept softly into the living room, closed and locked the windowthrough which she had heard him go, and wondered whether it had beenleft unfastened or he had forced the catch. But that could wait tillmorning. She locked the living-room door on the hall side, for furthersafety, and returned to her room, determined to have additional boltsand bars attached here and there the next day.
Then she remembered the house was not hers, and though she might suggestshe could not dictate.
Hours she lay awake, thinking it all over. In the security of her ownroom, she felt no fear and the dawn had begun to show before she slept.
"He's a crazy man," she told herself, finally, just as, at last,slumber came to her. "But it's queer the same mania attacked two peopleat the same time."
Next day she told Lucille Darrel the story.
"No, I don't think he was crazy," Miss Darrel said, "I think he's anagent of that other man, and they wanted to find out if you had giventhe first man the right pin. You see, when you made the secondman--what's his name, Ashton?----"
"Yes, and the first was Pollock."
"Well, when Pollock doubted that you'd given him the right pin, he sentAshton to find out, and then when you were so clever as to fool Ashtonso fully, he thought you had been frightened into it, at last."
"But what do they want the pin _for_?"
"Just as Pollock said; to add to a collection of such things. You knowthat dime and pin joke is in all the papers. Everybody knows about it."
"But why so desperately anxious to get the very one? If they did haveanother, nobody would ever be the wiser."
"Not unless you withheld the real one, and then gave it or sold it tosomebody else later. That would make Pollock's pin a fraud. Now, he'ssure he has the very pin."
"Well, of all rubbish! But, you're right. I suppose friend Ashton wentto the gate post, and not finding it there, he hovered around the househoping to get in and hunt for himself."
"Just that. And he did get in--I'm not sure he wouldn't have takensomething more valuable than the pin, if you hadn't caught him."
"I don't know; he didn't seem at all like an ordinary thief. Now, I'mgoing to see if Polly knows anything about the real pin."
* * * * *
It was nearly time for the Sunday dinner, and Iris, going to thekitchen, found the old cook busy with her preparations.
"Oh, don't bother me 'bout that now, Miss Iris," Polly said; "I'vegotter set this custard----"
"Behave yourself, Polly! It won't hurt your old custard to take oneminute to answer my question. Did you take a pin out of the under sideof Agnes' pincushion?"
"Come outside here," and the cook drew Iris out to the kitchen porch."Now," she whispered, "don't you talk so free 'bout that pin. Yes, MissIris, I got it, and you kin be mighty glad. That's a vallyble pin, thatis, and don't you fergit it!"
"Valuable, how? And where is it?"
"Well, you know, Mrs. Pell, she set great store by that pin. Many's thetime, when she's been goin' to New York or somewhere, she's said to me,'Polly, you keep this safe till I get hom
e,' and she'd hand me thatself-same pin. And would I guard it? Well, wouldn't I!"
"But why, _why_, Polly, did she set such store by it?"
"It was her Luck, Miss Iris----"
"Luck, fiddlesticks! Aunt Ursula wasn't a fool! If she'd kept that pinfor luck, she'd have stuck it away and left it alone."
"Now, you know there's no telling _what_ Mrs. Pell would do! Anybodyelse might have done this or that, but there's no use sayin' _she_would. She was a law unto herself. But, anyway, that pin's valuable, andit don't matter for what reason! So, I got it away from Agnes, whohasn't a mite of right to it, and saved it for you. Why, Miss Iris,didn't your aunt, time and again, say she was goin' to leave you avaluable pin? Her little joke was neither here nor there. She said she'dleave you a _valuable_ pin--and she did!"
"You're crazy too, Polly. Well, give me the pin; let me see if I candiscover its great value. Perhaps if I rub it a Slave of the Pin willappear, to grant my wishes!"
"Here it is, Miss Iris," and Polly drew a pin from her bodice, "but forthe land's sake be careful of it! Do, now!"
"I will, honest, I will," and Iris smiled as she took the common pinfrom the trembling fingers of the old woman.
"Lemme keep it for you, Miss Iris, dear. Won't you?"
"Maybe I will, later, Polly. I'll enjoy my valuable possession awhile,myself, first."
Iris went around the lawn toward the side door of the house. As shewent, she looked curiously at the pin and then stuck it carefully in hershirtwaist frill.
As she neared the side door, she noticed a small motor car standingthere. It was empty, and even as she looked, someone came up stealthilybehind her, threw a thick, dark cloth over her head, picked her up andlifted her into the little car, and drove rapidly away.
She tried to scream, but a hand was held tightly over her mouth, and tryas she would she could make no sound. She felt the familiar curve asthey drove through the gateway, and turned off on the road that led awayfrom the village, and Iris realized she was being kidnapped.
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