LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

      "That's it, Tom!" I shouted; "speed her!" He couldn't speed her any more than he was already doing, but as we had gained on the big car, I believed we could continue to gain.

      And we did! Of course Mordaunt's car was not going at top speed, as they didn't know they were being pursued,—a fact which I hoped they would not discover.

      But they did discover it. Whether a case of a guilty conscience or not, a man rose from his seat in the tonneau, and turned to look backward. He saw us, and must have realized that we were chasing them, for they immediately began to go faster.

      The big car sped ahead, and we followed. "Speed her, Tom!" I cried; "whoop her up!"

      "Can't do any more," Tom replied; "this is our best." The poor fellow was straining every nerve, and bent to his wheel in a frenzy of excitement. The man in the car ahead was still standing, and looking backward at us.

      The space between the cars lengthened slowly, and I realized that soon they would spin ahead out of our sight. I said nothing to Tom, for I knew he could not get another ounce of speed out of our car.

      The big man who stood gazing at us, as the touring car streaked ahead, was doubtless Jack Judson. He was an enormous man, and swung his arms with the free movement of a Westerner. Though I could not see his features distinctly, I felt the triumphant smile on his face, as he took off his soft, flapping hat and waved it at us in farewell.

      But even as he replaced that hat, I saw his face more clearly, and I suddenly realized that this meant a lessening of the distance between us!

      "Tom!" I fairly yelled in his ear; "they're slowing down! they don't mean to,—but something has happened! we're gaining on them! Never mind, boy, don't even look up,—just saw wood!"

      Obediently Tom watched his wheel, and I stared at the car, to which we were certainly creeping nearer. Yes, slowly but steadily nearer, and now I could discern Judson's face clearly, and could see his baffled expression give way to one of new resolve. Stooping an instant, the big man straightened up again, and now in his right hand he held what was unmistakably a deadly sharpshooter!

      "Tom!" I cried, actually more alarmed for my unconscious companion than for myself; "Tom,—duck! he's going to shoot us!"

      In my excitement, I didn't think of ducking myself, and I sat spellbound, gazing at that weapon aimed surely at us, while Tom, after one glance, dropped his head in an effort to shield himself.

      The next instant a report rang out, and as the big car passed out of sight, our pace slackened and we went along limpingly.

      The big Westerner had cleverly and purposely punctured one of our front tires!

      After the report, Tom's head came up, and he evidently expected, as he was unhurt, to see me wounded or dead beside him. His look of amazement was almost comical, when I said, "He shot at the tire, Whiting, not at us, and with his blooming Western skill, he hit it!"

      He had done just that, and now there was nothing for us to do, but to get out and mend the tire and then go home.

      We did so, and though we talked the matter over all the way home, we could come to no other conclusion than that Judson was the murderer and that he had escaped us.

      "I shall put it straight up to Miss Gardiner," I declared; "she knows about this thing and she must be made to tell."

      "She must know about it," said Whiting, "but I can't believe yet that she is wilfully shielding a murderer. It must be from some mistaken sense of duty or loyalty to some one."

      "She's certainly very much interested in this man Judson," I returned, a little gloomily. I was really under the spell of Miss Gardiner's fascination, and of course I hoped she could clear up all these uncertainties, but certainly the Judson affair looked ominous.

      After luncheon that day, I made a special request of Miss Gardiner that she would confer with Tom Whiting and myself. She agreed willingly enough, and we went to the music-room for our talk.

      We had thought it better not to tell the rest of the household about our morning's experience until after the conference with Irene. So I had told Mr. Maxwell that the Mordaunt party had left the hotel before we reached there and told him nothing more. But he discerned somehow, that there was more to the story, and he joined us in the music-room, uninvited.

      As there was no real reason why he shouldn't know all about it, I was quite willing he should be there.

      In consideration of his deafness, we all sat near together and spoke distinctly.

      "To begin with," I said, "I'm positive that John Judson is the man who shot Philip and Mildred."

      "And I am equally positive he did not!" declared Irene, her eyes blazing; "and I can prove it!"

      "You can!" exclaimed Tom Whiting; "what do you know, Irene, that the rest of us don't know? and why are you willing to defeat the efforts of right and justice?"

      "First tell me what happened this morning," said the girl.

      So I gave a rapid account of our pursuit of the Mordaunt car, and of Judson's shooting our tire in order to make his own escape.

      "Then he got away safely?" asked Irene, eagerly.

      "Yes, he is now well on toward Philadelphia. Are you glad he escaped?"

      "I certainly am, as the man is absolutely innocent of any connection with our mystery."

      "You know this Judson, then, Miss Gardiner?" asked Mr. Maxwell.

      "Yes, I know him very well."

      "Then you know he was an enemy to Philip?"

      "Not exactly an enemy, though I know they never liked each other. But since Mr. Judson is safely away, I will tell you the whole story. He has been a friend of mine for some years, and though he has asked me several times to marry him, I have always refused him. Last week he went to see me at my home in New York, and they told him I was down here. He was making a motor trip with Mr. Mordaunt, and on their way to Atlantic City, they stopped here at Mr. Judson's request. He wrote me that he wanted to see me once more before he went West, but he did not care to meet Philip. So I wrote him that I would be on the upper veranda Monday night at ten o'clock, and that he might come up by the little outside staircase, and thus he need not see Philip at all. He did this, and it was Mr. Mordaunt's car that the Earl saw that night."

      "Then Judson did come up on the upper veranda, Monday night at ten o'clock," Said Tom Whiting; "and yet you say he had nothing to do with the shooting!"

      "Absolutely nothing," said Irene. "We were on the other side of the house from the library, and he remained with me not more than two minutes."

      "Why such a short stay?" asked Tom.

      "Because,—because I was crying when he came, and I didn't want to see him anyway, and I begged him to go away at once."

      "At what time was this?"

      "I don't know exactly, but it was quite some time after ten. In fact, Mr. King came and told me about Philip and Mildred, very soon after Mr. Judson went away. But I can swear, if necessary, that he only came up to see me, stayed but a few moments and went away again. He did not go round to the library side of the house at all."

      "What were you crying about?" asked Whiting, gently.

      "I was upset and nervous, and I couldn't control myself."

      "You have heard from Mr. Judson since?" asked Mr. Maxwell, who was paying close attention to Irene's story.

      "Yes,—and of course he has heard of the murder, but he has no idea he was suspected of it. But I wanted him to get away, for to detain him and make inquiries, would only mean trouble for an innocent man. So I wrote him at Millville that you were going over there, and begged him to get away before you came. I think he must have been mystified at my urging him to a speedy departure, but I'm glad to know that he did as I advised him."

      "It is a strange story, Miss Gardiner," said Mr. Maxwell, thoughtfully, "but of course I do

Скачать книгу