CHAPTER XIII. CAPTAIN POLAND CONFESSES
When LeGrand Blossom had taken his departure, carrying with him thebooks and papers, he left behind two very disconsolate persons.
"It's terrible!" exclaimed Mr. Carwell's sister. "To think that poorHorace could be so careless! I knew his sporting life would bringtrouble, but I never dreamed of this."
"We must face it, terrible as it is," said Viola. "Nothing would matterif he--if he were only left to us. I'm sure he never meant to spend somuch money. It was just because--he didn't think."
"That always was a fault of his," sighed Miss Mary, "even when a boy.It's terrible!"
"It's terrible to have him gone and to think of the terrible way he wastaken," sighed Viola. "But any one is likely to lose money."
She no more approved of many of her late father's sporting proclivitiesthan did her aunt, and there were many rather startling stories andrumors that came to Viola as mere whispers to which she turned a deafear. Since her mother's death her father had, it was common knowledge,associated with a fast set, and he had been seen in company with personsof both sexes who were rather notorious for their excesses.
"Well, Mr. Blossom will do the best he can, I suppose," said MissCarwell, with rather an intimation that the head clerk's best would bevery bad indeed.
"I'm sure he will," assented Viola. "He knows all the details of poorfather's affairs, and he alone can straighten them out. Oh, if we hadonly known of this before, we might have stopped it."
"But your father was always very close about his matters," said hissister. "He resented even your mother knowing how much money he made,and how. I think she felt that, too, for she liked to have a share inall he did. He was kindness itself to her, but she wanted more thanthat. She wanted to have a part in his success, and he kept herout--or she felt that he did. Well, I'm sure I hope all mistakes arestraightened out in Heaven. It's certain they aren't here."
Viola pondered rather long and deeply on what LeGrand Blossom had toldher. She made it a point to go for a drive the next afternoon with JeanForette in the small car, taking a maid with her on a pretense of doingsome shopping. And Viola closely observed the conduct of the chauffeur.
On her return, the girl could not help admitting that the Frenchman wasall a careful car driver should be. He had shown skill and foresight inguiding the car through the summer-crowded traffic of Lakeside, and hadbeen cheerful and polite.
"I am sorry you are going to leave us, Jean," she said, when he hadbrought her back to The Haven.
"I, too, am regretful," he said in his careful English. "But your fatherhad other ideas, and I--I am really afraid of that big new car. It isnot a machine, mademoiselle, it is--pardon--it is a devil! It will bethe death of some one yet. I could never drive it."
"But if we sold that car, Jean, as we are going to do--"
"I could not stay, Miss Viola. I have a new place, and to that I go intwo weeks. I am sorry, for I liked it here, though--Oh, well, of whatuse?" and he shrugged his shoulders.
"Was there something you did not like? Did my father not treat youwell?" asked Viola quickly.
"Oh, as to that, mademoiselle, I should not speak. I liked your father.We, at times, did have difference; as who has not? But he was a friendto me. What would you have? I am sorry!" And he touched his hat anddrove around to the garage.
As Viola was about to enter the house she chanced to look down thestreet and saw Minnie Webb approaching. She looked so thoroughlydowncast that Viola was surprised.
"Hello, Minnie!" she exclaimed pleasantly. "Anything new or startling?"
"Nothing," was the somewhat listless reply. "Is there anything newhere?" and Minnie Webb's face showed a momentary interest.
"I can't say that there is," returned Viola. She paused for a moment."Won't you come in?"
"I don't think so-not to-day," stammered the other girl. And then as shelooked at Viola her face began to flush. "I--I don't feel very well. Ihave a terrible headache. I think I'll go home and lie down," and shehurried on without another word.
"There is certainly something wrong with Minnie," speculated Viola, asshe looked after her friend. "I wonder if it is on account of LeGrandBlossom."
She did not know how much Minnie Webb was in love with the man who hadbeen her father's confidential clerk and who was now in charge of Mr.Carwell's business affairs, and, not knowing this, she could, of course,not realize under what a strain Minnie was now living with so manysuspicions against Blossom.
Divesting herself of her street dress for a more simple gown, Violainquired of the maid whether Colonel Ashley was in the house. Wheninformed that he had gone fishing with Shag, the girl, with a littlegesture of impatience, took her seat near a window to look over somemail that had come during her absence.
As she glanced up after reading a belated letter of sympathy she saw,alighting from his car which had stopped in front of The Haven, CaptainGerry Poland. He caught sight of her, and waved his hand.
"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Viola. "If he hadn't seen me I could have said Iwas not at home, but now--"
She heard his ring at the door and resigned herself to meeting him, butif the captain had not been so much in love with Viola Carwell he couldnot have helped noticing her rather cold greeting.
"I called," he said, "to see if there was anything more I could do foryou or for your aunt. I saw Blossom, and he says he is working over thebooks. I've had a good deal of experience in helping settle up estatesthat were involved. I mean--" he added hastily--"where no will was left,and, my dear Viola, if I could be of any assistance--"
"Thank you," broke in Viola rather coldly, "I don't know that there isanything you can do. It is very kind of you, but Mr. Blossom has chargeand--"
"Oh, of course I realize that," went on Captain Poland quickly. "But Ithought there might be something."
"There is nothing," and now the yachtsman could not help noticing thecoldness in Viola's voice. He seemed to nerve himself for an effort ashe said:
"Viola"--he paused a moment before adding--"why can't we be friends?You were decent enough to me some days ago, and now--Have I doneanything--said anything? I want to be friends with you. I want to be--"
He took a step nearer her, but she drew back.
"Please don't think, Captain Poland, that I am not appreciative of whatyou have done for me," the girl said quickly. "But--Oh, I really don'tknow what to think. It has all been so terrible."
"Indeed it has," said the captain, in a low voice. "But I would like tohelp."
"Then perhaps you can!" suddenly exclaimed Viola, and there was a newnote in her voice. "Have you been to see Harry Bartlett in--in jail?"and she faltered over that word.
"No, I have not," said the captain, and there was a sharp tone in hisanswer. "I understood no one was allowed to see him."
"That is true enough," agreed Viola. "They wouldn't let me see him, andI wanted to--so much. I presume you know how he comes to be in prison."
"It isn't exactly a prison."
"To him it is-and to me," she said. "But you know how he comes to bethere?"
"Yes. I was present at the inquest. By the way, they are to resume itthis week, I heard. The chemists have finished their analyses and areready to testify."
"Oh, I didn't know that."
"Yes. But, speaking of Harry--poor chap--it's terrible, of course, buthe may be able to clear himself."
"Clear himself, Captain Poland? What do you mean?" and indignant Violafaced her caller.
"Oh, well, I mean--" He seemed in some confusion.
"I want to know something," went on Viola. "Did you bring it to theattention of the coroner or the prosecutor that Harry Bartlett saw myfather just before-before his death, and quarreled with him? Did youtell that, Captain Poland?"
Viola Carwell was like a stem accuser now.
"Did you?" she demanded again.
"I did," answered Captain Poland, not, however, without an effort. "Ifelt that it was my duty to do so. I merely offered it as a suggestion
,however, to one of the prosecutor's detectives. I didn't think it wouldlead to anything. I happened to hear your father and Harry having somewords-about what I couldn't catch-and I thought it no more than rightthat all the facts should be brought out in court. I made no secretabout it. I did not send word anonymously to the coroner, as I mighthave done. He knew the source of the information, and he could havecalled me to the stand had he so desired."
"Would you have told the same story on the stand?"
"I would. It was the truth."
"Even if it sent him--sent Harry to jail?"
"I would--yes. I felt it was my duty, and--"
"Oh-duty!"
Viola made a gesture of impatience.
"So-you-you told, Captain Poland! That is enough! Please don't try tosee me again."
"Viola!" he pleaded. "Please listen--"
"I mean it!" she said, sternly. "Go! I never want to see you again! Oh,to do such a thing!"
The captain, nonplussed for a moment, lingered, as though to appeal fromthe decision. Then, without a word, he turned sharply on his heel andleft the room.
Viola sank on a sofa, and gave way to her emotion.
"It can't be true! It can't!" she sobbed. "I won't believe it. It mustnot be true! Oh, how can I prove otherwise? But I will! I must! Harrynever did that horrible thing, and I will prove it!
"Why should Captain Poland try to throw suspicion on him? It isn'tright. He had no need to tell the detective that! I must see ColonelAshley at once and tell him what I think. Oh, Captain Poland, if I--"
Viola twisted in her slender hands a sofa cushion, and then threw itviolently from her.
"I'll see Colonel Ashley at once!" she decided.
Inquiry of a maid disclosed the fact that the colonel was still fishing,and from Patrick, the gardener, she learned that he had gone to try hisluck at a spot in the river at the end of the golf course where Patrickhimself had hooked more than one fish.
"I'll follow him there," said Viola. "I suppose he won't want to beinterrupted while he's fishing, but I can't help it! I must talk to someone--tell somebody what I think."
She donned a walking skirt and stout shoes, for the way to the river wasrough, and set out. On the way she thought of many things, and chieflyof the man pacing his lonely walk back and forth behind windows that hadsteel bars on them.
Viola became aware of some one walking toward her as she neared the bendof the river whither Patrick had directed her, and a second glance toldher it was the faithful Shag.
He bowed with a funny little jerk and took off his cap.
"Is the colonel there?" and she indicated what seemed to be an idealfishing place among the willows.
"He was, Miss Viola, but he done gone now."
"Gone? Where? Do you mean back to the house?"
"No'm. He done gone t' N'York."
"New York?"
"Yes'm. On de afternoon train. He say he may be back t'night, an' mebbynot 'twell mornin'."
"But New York-and so suddenly! Why did he go, Shag?"
"I don't know all de 'ticklers, Miss Viola, but I heah him say he got t'git a book on poisons."
"A book on poisons?" and Viola started.
"Yes'm. He done want one fo' de case he's wukin' on, an' he can't gitnone at de library, so he go to N'York after one. I'se bringin' back histackle. De fish didn't bite nohow, so he went away, de colonel did."
"Oh!"
Viola stood irresolute a moment, and then turned back toward the house,Shag walking beside her.