Out of a Labyrinth

by Lawrence L. Lynch

  CHAPTER XX.

  SOME BITS OF PERSONAL HISTORY.

  While Miss Manvers was bidding farewell to the latest of her guests, andthe "average Traftonite" was making his first voyage into dreamland, Dr.Barnard closed his eyes upon Trafton forever, and slept that long,sound, last, best sleep that comes once to all of us, and I, as well asnumerous other restless sleepers, was awakened in the early morning bythe sound of the tolling bell.

  It was sad news to many, for Dr. Barnard was an old and well-belovedcitizen.

  It afforded a new subject for gossip to many more, who now learned forthe first time that Louise Barnard was affianced to Dr. Carl Bethel, andthat Dr. Barnard, with almost his latest breath, had proclaimed hisentire faith in the young man's honor, by formally sanctioning hisengagement with Louise.

  I had not seen Bethel since my return from the city, until we met thatday, and exchanged a few words across the dinner table.

  He looked worn and weary, and seemed to have forgotten his ownannoyances and interests in the absorption of his regret for the loss ofhis old friend and associate, and sympathy with the sorrow of hisbeloved.

  I had spent the entire morning in writing a long letter to my Chief,giving a detailed account of my acquaintance with Miss Manvers, and adescription of the lady, her style of living, and, above all, moregraphic than all, my experience of the previous day, up to the momentwhen I closed the "rogues' gallery" and opened my eyes to a new andstartling possibility.

  This document I addressed to a city post-office box, and, having sealedit carefully, registered and dispatched it through the Traftonpost-office.

  In the afternoon I received an express package from Baysville. It was a_book_, so the agent said. Innocent enough, no doubt, nevertheless I didnot open it until I had closed and locked my door upon all intruders.

  It _was_ a book. A cheap volume of trashy poems, but the middle leaveswere cut away, and in their place I found a bulky letter.

  It was Earle's report from Amora.

  It was very statistical, very long, and dry because of its minuteness ofdetail, and the constant recurrence of dates and figures. But it wasmost interesting to me.

  Arch Brookhouse and his brother, Louis, had both been students at Amora.

  Grace Ballou and Nellie Ewing had been fellow-students with them oneyear ago. Last term, however, Arch had not been a student, but LouisBrookhouse, Grace Ballou, Nellie Ewing, Mamie Rutger, Amy Holmes, andJohnny La Porte, had all been in attendance.

  For the last three named this was their first term.

  Mamie Rutger had been expelled for misconduct, during the last half ofthe term.

  Johnny La Porte and Louis Brookhouse had been "chums" and were,accordingly, pretty wild.

  Very little could be learned concerning Amy Holmes, previous to hercoming to Amora. She was said to be an orphan, and came from the South.Nothing more definite could be learned concerning her abiding place. Shewas lively, dashing and stylish, not particularly fond of study; in factwas considered one of the "loudest" girls in the school. Her escapadeshad been numerous and she had, on more than one occasion, narrowlyescaped expulsion. She was particularly intimate with Nellie Ewing,Mamie Rutger, and Grace Ballou; and had been seen, on several occasions,in the company of Arch Brookhouse, who was very often at Amora.

  Concerning Ed. Dwight, Earle could say very little.

  Dwight had left town with his team early on Monday morning, and had notyet returned. Earle had managed, however, to obtain lodgings at Dwight'sboarding-house, and had made the acquaintance of one of the "girls," whohad contributed the information that Arch Brookhouse had several timesdined there with Dwight.

  This is an abbreviated account of what Earle's report contained.Accompanying said report was an autograph obtained from Professor AsaBartlett, and it bore not the slightest resemblance to the printed albumlines.

  Considering the time consumed in the investigation, Earle had doneremarkably well. He had done well, too, in going to Baysville to sendthe letter.

  How many threads were now in my hands, and yet how powerless I was forthe time!

  Only yesterday I had made, or so I believed, two most importantdiscoveries, and yet I could turn them to no account for the present.

  Upon the first, it would be unwise to act until further information hadbeen forwarded me by my Chief.

  As for the second, there was nothing to do but watch. I could not takethe initiative step. Action depended solely upon others, and as to theidentity of these others I scarce could give a guess.

  Louis Brookhouse had not been seen outside his home since his arrival,in a crippled condition, the day after Grace Ballou's escapade. I mustsee Louis Brookhouse. I must know the nature of that "injury" which Dr.Bethel had been called upon to attend.

  For the first, I must bide my time until the youth was sufficientlyrecovered to appear in public. For the second, I must rely on Bethel,and, until the last sorrowful tribute of respect and affection had beenpaid the dead, I could scarcely hope for an interview with him.

  A crisis must come soon, but it was not in our power to hasten it.

  So long as Dimber Joe and Blake Simpson continued inert and seeminglyaimless, so long as the days brought no new event and the nights broughtneither discovery on our part nor movement on the part of thehorse-thieves, Carnes and I had only to wait and watch--watch--watch.

  Our days, to the onlooker, must have seemed only idle indeed, but stillthey were busy days.

  Carnes roamed about the town, inspecting the barns and buildingsclosely, when he could venture a near approach without arousingsuspicion or objection; at a distance, when intrusion would be unsafe orunwelcome.

  Dr. Barnard was buried on Thursday, and on the afternoon of that day, asI was returning from the funeral in fact, I received a report fromWyman.

  Stripped of its details, and reduced to bare facts, it amounted to this:

  The "dummy" had proven of actual service. Wyman had found him with verylittle trouble, and in just the right place. He was domiciled with theLa Porte family, and had been since the first week of his advent amongthe Grovelanders, and Wyman was indebted to him for much of theinformation contained in his report.

  Acting according to our instructions, or, rather, as we had expectedand desired, overacting them, the "dummy" had soon contrived to let theGrovelanders know that he was a detective, sent out from the city tooccupy the premises and keep his eyes open. He talked freely of themissing girls, always frankly avowing that it was his opinion, as wellas the opinion of his superiors, that the two girls had been murdered.Indeed, he darkly hinted that certain facts corroborative of this theoryhad been discovered, and then he lapsed into vagueness and silence. Whenquestioned as to his system or intentions regarding the investigation hebecame profoundly mysterious, oracular, and unsatisfactory.

  The result was all that we could have wished. The less intelligent amonghis critics looked upon him as a fountain of wisdom and cunning andskill. The more acute and observant fathomed his shallowness, butimmediately set it down as a bit of clever acting, and, joining withtheir less penetrating neighbors, voted our "dummy" "wise as a serpent"underneath his "harmless as a dove" exterior, and looked confidentlyforward to something startling when he should finally arouse to action.

  To which class of critics Johnny La Porte belonged, Wyman had beenunable to discover, for during his stay in Groveland he had not seenyoung La Porte.

  Whatever his opinion may have been, the young man had been among thefirst to seek our "dummy's" acquaintance, which he had cultivated sopersistently that within less than a fortnight the two had become mostfriendly, and apparently appreciative of each other's society, and the"dummy" had found an abiding place underneath the hospitable roof of LaPorte _pere_.

  Johnny La Porte was a spoiled son. He seemed to have had his own wayalways, and it had not been a way to wisdom. He was not dissipated; hadnone of the larger and more masculine vices, but he was idle, a shirk atschool and at home. He had no business tact, and seemed a
s littleinclined to make of himself a decent farmer as he was incapable ofbecoming a good financier, merchant, or mechanic.

  He was short of stature, and girlishly pretty, having small ovalfeatures, languid black eyes, black curly hair, and a rich complexion ofolive and red.

  He drove a fine span of blacks before a jaunty light carriage, and wasseldom seen with his turnout except when accompanied by some one of themany pretty girls about Groveland.

  In fact, he was that most obnoxious creature, a male flirt. He had rovedfrom one bright Groveland flower to another, ever since his graduationfrom jackets to tail coats. During the previous Autumn and Winter, hehad been very devoted to Nellie Ewing; but, since their return fromschool, in the Spring, his attentions had not been quite so marked,although Nellie had several times been seen behind the blacks and incompany with the fickle Johnny.

  In short, after reading all that Wyman could say of him, I summedJohnny La Porte up, and catalogued him as follows:

  Vain, weak, idle, handsome, fickle, selfish, good-natured when notinterfered with, over fond of pleasure, easily influenced, and aspendthrift.

  What might or might not be expected of such a character?

  He was, as Mrs. Ballou had said, popular among the young people,especially the young ladies; and where do you find a young man thatdrives a fine turnout, carries a well-filled purse, dances a little,sings a fair tenor and plays his own accompaniment, is handsome, andalways ready for a frolic, who is _not_ popular with the ladies?

  Wyman had not seen La Porte, and for this reason:

  On the evening of the 17th, young La Porte had driven away from homewith his black horses, telling our "dummy," in confidence, that he was"going to take a pretty girl out riding."

  La Porte and the "dummy" "roomed together," in true country fashion;and, at midnight, or later, the "dummy" could not be precise as to thelateness of the hour, he returned. Entering the room with evidentcaution, he nevertheless awoke the "dummy," who, turning lazily on hispillow, saw La Porte taking from a drawer something white, which our"dummy" supposed to be a handful of handkerchiefs, and from a shelf abottle of brandy.

  "Entering the room with evident caution, he neverthelessawoke the "dummy," who, turning lazily on his pillow, saw La Portetaking from a drawer something white,"--page 244.]

  On seeing the open eyes of our "dummy," La Porte had explained asfollows:

  One of his horses went lame a bit, and he intended to give him alittle treatment. The "dummy" must not disturb himself, as the hired manwas on hand to render all the necessary help.

  Then, as he was leaving the room, La Porte had added:

  "By-the-by, if the horse comes out all right, and I am gone when youturn out in the morning, tell the old man that I am off for Baysville tosee about the club excursion."

  Wondering vaguely what species of lameness it was that must be treatedwith brandy and bandaged with linen handkerchiefs, the "dummy" fellasleep, and finding the young man absent on the following morning,delivered his message as directed.

  It was received without comment, as such excursions were of frequentoccurrence, and as no one presumed to question the movements of thespoiled young pleasure seeker.

  He did not return on the next day, but the morning of the 19th broughthim home, not, however, as he went, but in company with a sewing-machineagent whom he called Ed., and whose full name was Edward S. Dwight.

  La Porte stated that his horse was lame again, and that he had left histeam at Amora, and returned with Dwight in the machine wagon.

  During that day La Porte accompanied Dwight on his rounds among thefarmers, and early the following morning the two returned together toAmora.

  That was a week ago. The following Sunday, La Porte and Dwight hadagain visited Groveland, this time with La Porte's own turnout. Duringthe day they had made several calls upon young ladies, and this time our"dummy," being cordially invited, accompanied them on their rounds.

  On Monday morning, as before, they returned to Amora, and since then hadnot reappeared in Groveland.

  Wyman, according to instructions, had visited Mrs. Ballou. She hadnothing new to communicate, but she gave into his hands a small package,which Wyman had inclosed with his report.

  It contained three photographs; one of Miss Amy Holmes, one of Johnny LaPorte, and a third of the same gentleman and Mr. Ed. Dwight, a ratherrakish-looking duo.

  I read and re-read Wyman's long, complete descriptive report. I studiedthe photographed faces again and again, and that evening, before thesunset had fairly faded from the west, I told Carnes the whole story,and placed before him the printed letter and the autographs, photographsand reports.