CHAPTER XVIII
MYSTERIES BORN IN THE NIGHT
When the car, driven by Thompson, drew near to the derrick which hadbeen to Morton the suggestion of an unholy impulse, he slowed the bigPackard and leaned ahead, far over the wheel, for his keen eyes hadalready discerned something beside the road which had not been therewhen he had passed earlier in the evening. He stopped the car, andthat fact awoke Duncan to a recollection of his surroundings.
"What is it, Thompson?" he asked. "Why have you stopped?"
Thompson was peering anxiously toward the jumbled mass of broken stoneahead of him, and there was an instant of silence before he replied.Then--
"There has been a wreck here, sir," he told his employer.
Instantly, Duncan thought of Patricia. He forgot Morton. He was out ofthe car even before Thompson could slide from under thesteering-wheel, and started ahead at a run, toward the remnants ofthe wreck which he could now see quite plainly.
The roadster, in making its last leap, had literally climbed the rockyplace, and then, turning end for end twice, had finally alighted upona heap of stone, from which it could be seen from the roadway. It wasnow a mass of iron, a twisted chaos of castings and machinery,recognizable only as something that had once been an automobile; butthe experienced eyes of Thompson, trained to the quick and perfectrecognition of all cars that he had ever seen, identified the mass ofwreckage as soon as he got near enough to see it clearly. Onecomprehensive glance sufficed for him. He straightened up after thatquick search for identification marks, which was his first instinct,and said, quietly:
"It is Mr. Morton's roadster, sir."
"My God!" cried Duncan, with a catch in his breath. The truth of thematter seemed to rush upon him on the instant, although he afterwardrefused to recognize it as truth. But, as Thompson made the statement,Duncan saw again the despairing face of Richard Morton which had stillhad in it a hidden determination to do something that Duncan had noteven tried to guess at the time. "Was this what he intended to do?"Duncan asked himself, silently.
"Yes, sir; it is Mr. Morton's roadster," Thompson repeated, withentire conviction. "He must have been hitting up a great gait, when hestruck, too. I never saw such a wreck; never, sir. He must besomewhere about, sir."
"True. Look for him, Thompson; look everywhere."
He started forward himself, leaping over the stones, and plunging intoevery place where the body of a man might have fallen, after beinghurled from the wrecked car. They searched distances beyond where itwas possible that the body of a man might have been thrown, but theydid not find Morton.
"It is possible that he escaped," said Duncan, at last, pausing andwiping perspiration from his brow. "He might have alighted on his feet,and--"
"No, sir. Pardon me. It is not possible. No man could go through sucha wreck as that one, and in such a place, and escape alive. Besides,sir--look here."
The man struck a match, and held the blaze of it toward a pile ofsharp stones. Duncan bent forward, peered at the spot indicated byThompson, and drew back again with a sharp exclamation of horror.
There was blood on the stones; quite a lot of it, partly dried. Andnear it, half-hidden among the jagged stones, were Morton's watch andfob. The fob was instantly recognizable for it was totally unlike anyother that Duncan had ever seen, formed of nuggets in the rough,linked together with steel rings, instead of with gold, or silver. Thewatch was smashed almost as badly as the automobile. Duncan took it inhis hand, held it so for a moment, and at last, with a shudder,dropped it into one of his pockets.
"What does it mean, Thompson? Where is he?" he asked.
"I think it is likely, sir, that someone passed the spot, either atthe time of the accident or directly after it happened. Of course,sir, the body would not have been left here under any circumstances."
"The body? You think he must be dead?"
"There can be no doubt of it, sir," said Thompson, with conviction."Shall we go on, sir? Nothing more can be done here."
They returned to their own car, and the journey toward the city wasresumed. Not another word was spoken until they were in the citystreets, and then the only direction that Duncan gave his chauffeurwas that he be taken directly to his rooms, where, as soon as heentered, he seized upon the telephone. One after another, he called upevery hospital in the city, and it was not until he found his searchto be entirely unavailing that it occurred to him Morton would havebeen taken to some place nearer the scene of the accident. Then, hebethought himself to communicate with police headquarters.
"I will give," he said, "a thousand dollars for positive informationabout the fate of Richard Morton, provided the same is brought to mebefore daylight, and that my request be kept a secret. This is not abribe, but a spur to great effort. You have facilities for making suchinquiries. Find Morton for me, before morning, if you can, no matterwhere he is. Keep it from the newspapers, too. Then, come to me forthe check." He explained fully the locality of the accident--and thenhe waited.
He did not occupy his bed that night, and he could not have explainedwhy he did not do so. He kept telling himself that Richard Morton wasnothing whatever to him; that it did not matter what had happened tothe fellow; that Morton deserved death for what he had done--and a lotof other things of the same character. But all the while he paced thefloor, and waited for information; or, he seated himself in a cornerof the room and smoked like a furnace chimney. Just as daylight wasbreaking, while gazing through his window toward the eastward, hestarted, and asked himself, guiltily:
"Am I hoping all the time that he is dead? Have I offered thatthousand dollars only for assurance of his death?"
Fortunately, he was not compelled to reply to the self-accusingquestion, for there came a summons at his door, and an officer fromheadquarters entered to announce that, although diligent search andinquiry had been made in every conceivable quarter, not a word ofinformation regarding Richard Morton could be obtained. Duncanlistened in silence to the report, and, when it was finished, said:
"Very well; continue the search. Find the man, or find out what becameof him. I will defray all the expenses, and will pay the reward Ioffered, too. But I must have the information at once, and everythingrelative to this affair must be kept from the newspapers."
The officer had just gone when a ring at Duncan's telephone took himquickly to it--and the voice of Jack Gardner at the other end of thewire alarmed him unduly, considering that there was no known reason tofeel alarm. Gardner, upon being assured that he was talking directlywith his friend, said:
"You'll have to pardon me, old chap, for calling you out of bed atthis ungodly hour, but I just had to do it."
"You needn't worry, Jack. I haven't been in bed. What's up?" Duncanreplied.
"Why; you see there is a mystery developed, just now. If you haven'tbeen in bed, I have. I was called out of it by this confoundedtelephone--twice. The first call was to tell me that some sort of anaccident had happened to Dick Morton. I couldn't gather what it was,and didn't really take much stock in it, so far as that goes. Then,the second call came. I was mad by that time, and didn't have verymuch to say to the chap at the other end of the wire--till Sally putme up to calling you."
"What was the second call about?" asked Duncan, gritting his teeth andalmost fearing to hear what it might have been.
"Why, my Thomas car--the one that took Patricia away, you know--hasbeen found somewhere in the streets of New York, deserted, apparently.I can't understand it. They identified the car by the number, youknow. When I told Sally what had been said to me, she immediately hada spasm of fear lest the accident reported to have happened to Mortonmight have been Patricia, instead. I thought I'd ask you about it;that's all."
"Wait a minute, Jack. Just let me think, a minute; then I'll answeryou."
Duncan put the receiver down on the table, and crossed the room. Hefound it difficult to grasp the situation. Until that moment, it hadnot occurred to him that Patricia might have been the one to findMorton, or Morton's body,
at the scene of the wreck. He had forgottenthat she must have passed that way within half an hour from the timeof the piling of the steamer upon the mass of sharp stones. Presently,he returned to the telephone, and told his friend all that he knewabout the circumstances, and all that he had done since Thompson andhe came away from the scene of the wreck.
"But I don't see what your Thomas car has got to do with it," heconcluded. "Your man Patrick was driving it, wasn't he? I know he was.He used to be with Langdon, you know. He isn't a chauffeur, but he's alot more competent to be one than half the men who are. I say, Jack,have Sally call up Patricia, right away. You--"
He heard a click over the wire which told him that connection was cutoff; and after that he paced the floor again, wishing and hoping forthe ringing of his telephone-bell.
"We are coming to the city at once," Gardner told him, when at last itdid ring, and Duncan had taken down the receiver. "What the devil isthe matter with everything, anyhow? You had better hump yourself,Duncan, and get busy. I don't believe that Morton was hurt half sobadly as you and Thompson seemed to think. Anyhow, the only way I cansee through it all is that Patricia was the one who found him. But,even so--"
"Hold on a minute, Jack. You are getting too swift for me. What didSally find out when she telephoned to Patricia?"
"Oh! Didn't I tell you that? Patricia hasn't been home, at all. Theythought, at Langdon's, that she was here. She certainly hasn't shownup there. And you say that Dick has disappeared, after leaving hisgore spread all over the place where his car was smashed. And, then,my car is found somewhere down there, abandoned. I can't make it out,at all. Sally is sure that something dreadful has happened. We'restarting now. Sally won't wait another minute. I'll see you as soon asI get into town."
He did not delay to say good-bye, but hung up the receiver at his end.
Duncan did not await the arrival of Gardner. He summoned his valet,and gave him strict directions about the reception of any newsconcerning the mysteries of the night. Then, he hurried to StephenLangdon's home where he was admitted at once to the old banker'ssleeping apartment.
"What in heaven's name is the matter now, Rod?" the financierdemanded, testily. "It is bad enough to have you and Patricia atsword's points, but to rout out an old fellow like me from his bed atthis hour, is rubbing it in."
"I suppose you haven't heard that Patricia did not come home lastnight, have you?" Duncan said, by way of reply.
"No, I haven't. I should have been surprised, if I had heard it. Shewasn't expected to come home. She went to the Gardners."
"Well, sir, there is a lot that you ought to know, before you step outof this room, to face all sorts of statements and inquiries. That iswhy I am here. I thought I was the best one to tell you."
"To tell me what?"
"It will be something of a shock, sir. Brace yourself for it. I don'tthink that a soul in the world except me, guesses at the truth."
"Guesses at what truth? What the devil is the matter with you? Whatare you trying to tell me? Out with it, whatever it is!"
"Patricia has run away with Richard Morton. He was hurt last night.She was in love with him, and--"
"Stop! Stop where you are, Rod. You're crazy. You're stark, staring,raving crazy! Why in heaven's name should Patricia want to run awaywith Morton? It is true that I have always wanted her to marry you,but, if she wanted _him_, she knows mighty well she could have him. Iwouldn't put out a finger to stop her from marrying anybody of herchoice, so long as the man was morally and mentally fit. Sit down overthere; take a drink. You look as if you needed one. Don't utter a wordfor five minutes, and then begin at the beginning and tell me allabout it."
But Duncan would listen to neither request. He began at once and toldof the occurrences of the night, from the moment when Patricia hadarrived at Cedarcrest alone, till the receipt of the telephonicmessages from Gardner; and he concluded by saying:
"There is no mystery in the affair, at all, as I regard it. Patricialeft the house, at Cedarcrest, half an hour after Morton left it. Shefound the wrecked car, near the derrick, as Thompson and I found it,later on. But she found Morton, too. Patrick was with her, and Patrickis devoted to Patricia. He wouldn't consider the fact that he is, orwas, in Jack's employ, if it came to a question of obedience to herwishes; he would serve her. You see, Patricia found out that she lovedMorton, when he got his calling-down; only, I suppose, even then, shewasn't quite sure. But, when the time came for him to go awayentirely, she had no more doubts about it! She didn't remain long atCedarcrest, after that; she followed him. She knew that Patrick wasthere, and that he would go with her. Well, they found the wreck ofMorton's car, along the road; then, they found Morton. Probably, hewasn't much hurt; chaps like him don't mind the loss of a littleblood. Patricia and the man helped him into the car. It was just theproper scene, with all the best kind of setting for a mutualconfession of their love, and--there you are."
"Go on, Roderick. Finish all you have to say, before I begin. Whatnext?"
"Why--oh, what's the use? There isn't any more to say. Mortonprobably asked her to go away with him, and she went. That's all. Ithought you ought to know it."
"You don't know it yourself, do you?"
"No--not positively, of course."
"You have just guessed it."
"I suppose that's true, too."
"I wonder if your guessing has gone far enough to enlighten me on twoimportant points."
"What do you mean?"
"I'd like to know why Morton would want her to run away with him atall, and why she should think of consenting to such a thing, if hedid. Patricia isn't one of the run-away kind. I should think you wouldknow that. And they didn't have to run."
"Why, Morton had just been virtually kicked out of Jack Gardner'shouse. He was--"
"Well? Well? Couldn't Stephen Langdon's daughter kick him into itagain? Or into any other house on God's green earth, for that matter,if she tried to do so? Do you suppose he'd have to pay any attentionto a little, petty ostracism, on the part of such puppets of societyas gathered out there, if he became the husband of Patricia Langdon?Don't be an ass, Roderick! You are just plain jealous, and I don'tknow that I blame you--for that."
"I'm not jealous."
"Then, you're a fool, and that's a heap worse."