The morning after Halsey's return was Tuesday. Arnold Armstrong had

been found dead at the foot of the circular staircase at three o'clock

on Sunday morning. The funeral services were to be held on Tuesday,

and the interment of the body was to be deferred until the Armstrongs

arrived from California. No one, I think, was very sorry that Arnold

Armstrong was dead, but the manner of his death aroused some sympathy

and an enormous amount of curiosity. Mrs. Ogden Fitzhugh, a cousin,

took charge of the arrangements, and everything, I believe, was as

quiet as possible. I gave Thomas Johnson and Mrs. Watson permission to

go into town to pay their last respects to the dead man, but for some

Advertisement..

reason they did not care to go.

Halsey spent part of the day with Mr. Jamieson, but he said nothing of

what happened. He looked grave and anxious, and he had a long

conversation with Gertrude late in the afternoon.

Tuesday evening found us quiet, with the quiet that precedes an

explosion. Gertrude and Halsey were both gloomy and distraught, and as

Liddy had already discovered that some of the china was broken--it is

impossible to have any secrets from an old servant--I was not in a

pleasant humor myself. Warner brought up the afternoon mail and the

evening papers at seven--I was curious to know what the papers said of

the murder. We had turned away at least a dozen reporters. But I read

over the head-line that ran half-way across the top of the Gazette

twice before I comprehended it. Halsey had opened the Chronicle and

was staring at it fixedly.

"The Traders' Bank closes its doors!" was what I read, and then I put

down the paper and looked across the table.

"Did you know of this?" I asked Halsey.

"I expected it. But not so soon," he replied.

"And you?" to Gertrude.

"Jack--told us--something," Gertrude said faintly. "Oh, Halsey, what

can he do now?"

"Jack!" I said scornfully. "Your Jack's flight is easy enough to

explain now. And you helped him, both of you, to get away! You get

that from your mother; it isn't an Innes trait. Do you know that every

dollar you have, both of you, is in that bank?"

Gertrude tried to speak, but Halsey stopped her.

"That isn't all, Gertrude," he said quietly; "Jack is--under arrest."

"Under arrest!" Gertrude screamed, and tore the paper out of his hand.

She glanced at the heading, then she crumpled the newspaper into a ball

and flung it to the floor. While Halsey, looking stricken and white,

was trying to smooth it out and read it, Gertrude had dropped her head

on the table and was sobbing stormily.

I have the clipping somewhere, but just now I can remember only the

essentials.




Most Popular