“That sounds typical of the old man,” admitted Saybrook, with a dry smile. “He did not like to make friends. I was very fortunate to gain his good will.”
“That explains the subject under discussion,” concluded Hurley Adams. “Josiah Bartram’s death was unexpected; but his interment, under the direction of Doctor Felton Shores, was quite in keeping with his own wishes.”
“Let’s go back to the death, then,” suggested Saybrook, in a significant tone. “You must admit that it was quite unusual.”
“In what way?”
“In the manner of his dying. In the words that Josiah Bartram uttered just before he fell back upon the pillows.”
A SUDDEN nervousness came over Hurley Adams. The gray-haired lawyer began to clench and unclench his fists in unwitting action. He suddenly noted that Willard Saybrook was glancing at his moving hands. Adams dropped his arms to his sides.
“Fingers of death!” said Saybrook softly. “Fingers of death! Can you explain those words, Mr. Adams?”
“Grace told you?” questioned Adams sharply.
Saybrook nodded.
“Yes,” he said, “Grace Bartram told me her uncle’s dying words. They have preyed upon her mind. She did not mention the fact to you or to Doctor Shores. She expected that one or the other of you might bring up the subject; since you did not, I decided to question you regarding it.”
“I heard the words,” admitted Adams. “They puzzled me, and then worried me. To be frank, Saybrook, I have thought about them since. But, after all, they may not have had significance.”
“I believe that they are significant,” declared Saybrook, rising from his chair. “Those words lead me to one assumption, and I have come here to state it. I believe that Josiah Bartram was murdered!”
A look of consternation appeared upon the lawyer’s countenance. It quickly turned to a shrewd, reserved expression. Hurley Adams, the moment that his surprise was ended, became a man of cautious, restraining action.
“I’m going to get to the bottom of it,” asserted Saybrook. “There’ll be no halfway measures about this, Adams. I’m going to break things loose. If necessary, I’ll demand that the body of Josiah Bartram be exhumed immediately for autopsy—”
Hurley Adams was upon his feet. Stepping forward, he clutched Willard Saybrook by the arm. There was a dynamic force in the old lawyer’s expression. He suddenly gained a dominating control over Willard Saybrook.
Whatever might have been troubling Adams, it was clear that he could no longer deal with Saybrook in a lulling manner. Hence the lawyer became direct in method and his new tactics swayed the man before him.
“Saybrook” — Adams spoke in a tense, effective tone — “you are merely voicing a thought which I have held; yet which I have mentioned to no one. I tried to belittle the situation a few minutes ago, merely because I wanted to see how strongly you had been impressed by what Grace Bartram had told you.
“Like yourself, I believe that Josiah Bartram may have died an unnatural death. But it was my duty to follow his instructions. The burial was actually in accordance with his plans. Nevertheless, there is nothing to be gained by hasty action. We may both be mistaken.”
“Let us find out the truth, then!” blurted Saybrook.
“Let us find out the truth,” agreed Adams, “but not by the method you suggest. It would be a mistake to exhume the body. It would cause so tremendous a sensation that the murderer — if there is one — would have time to make his escape. No, Saybrook, precipitous action could accomplish nothing. It is far better to wait.”
“And let the murderer walk away?”
“No. Watch while we wait. See if we can divine the murderer’s purpose. You have made a great mistake already, Saybrook.”
“In what way?”
“By mentioning your suspicions to me. I am glad, now, that you have done so; but they must go no farther. Certainly not to Doctor Shores.”
“You do not suspect him!”
“I suspect no one. I merely know that we may be encountering a great mystery here. Thoughts unvoiced are thoughts unlearned. Keep this between ourselves, Saybrook.”
“Perhaps Shores has suspicions, himself—”
“If so, let him mention them. I would be the first to whom he would come.”
Willard Saybrook sat down and became pensive.
THERE was logic in the old lawyer’s advice. Since Adams had made the frank admission that he, too, believed that Josiah Bartram might have been murdered, Saybrook was ready to listen to reason. Adams had used the right tactics with him.
“I’ll try to follow your advice,” agreed Saybrook. “But at the same time, Adams, I cannot see the wisdom of undergoing long suspense. If Josiah Bartram was killed, it is our duty to go the limit to uncover the murderer. If his death was natural, we are foolish to be governed by such maddening thoughts.”
“Saybrook” — Adams was speaking in a fatherly tone — “I am as anxious as you; indeed, more anxious, to learn the truth. It concerns me more directly than it does you.
“I was Josiah Bartram’s legal adviser. I know the problems which confronted him. If murder is involved, we are dealing with a game that must be handled cautiously.
“There is only one possible cause for which Josiah Bartram might have been murdered. I can tell you with assurance that if murder is involved, the criminal will most certainly follow with further actions that will be obvious to me. If new events do not occur, I shall be positive that Josiah Bartram was not murdered.
“Why not wait and be prepared? I have been watching. I am willing to wait. Avoid precipitous steps. That is my advice.
“If you are worried about Grace, I can assure you that I see no possible danger to her. Yet, foolish action on your part might turn a new menace in your direction — and therefore bring danger to Grace also.”
Willard Saybrook arose. These last words settled his policy. He held out his hand to Hurley Adams, and the old lawyer received it warmly.
“I’m keeping mum,” announced Saybrook. “For the present, anyway. You’ve got the right idea. I’ll see you again; and I’ll wait until you give the word.”
When Saybrook had left the office, Hurley Adams breathed a long gasp of relief. Seated at his desk, the lawyer thrummed the glass surface with his fingers as he stared thoughtfully through the window.
Fingers of death! Saybrook, too, had seen significance in those dying words. Saybrook would keep silence, now, in answer to a reasoning plea. Hurley Adams had won his point.
But why did the old lawyer seek such secrecy? His words, his actions, had indicated a subtle, personal reason that Willard Saybrook had not noted. What did Hurley Adams have at stake?
The answer lay in the lawyer’s brain — along with the fantastic words that a dead man had cried forth before his passing. The face of Hurley Adams was tinged with worry; but it was also colored with determination. It gave no token of the thoughts that lay behind it.
Time alone would tell what Hurley Adams knew about the strange death of Josiah Bartram!
CHAPTER IV. THE SHADOW’S METHOD
AFTER leaving the law offices of Hurley Adams, Willard Saybrook went directly to his own office, in a building a few blocks away. There, he plopped into a desk chair and began to review the unusual discussion that he had held with Hurley Adams. His thoughts caused him to reflect upon his own limited knowledge of affairs pertaining to the late Josiah Bartram.
Willard Saybrook had come to Holmsford a few years ago as the district representative of a large tile manufacturer. He had met Josiah Bartram through that connection; for the old contractor, despite his retirement, had still maintained occasional building interests. Saybrook had first seen Grace Bartram at her uncle’s home; a romance had resulted.