Bart's eyes flashed anger.
But the old lady answered quickly, pulhng in her chin, "Of course not. That woman had it."
"What woman? Kate Callahan?" Bart stared at his mother. ''You knew that, Mother? But you swore , . ."
"Nathaniel didn't realize it was an heirloom," said the old lady. "I understood, I wasn't angry. I simply told him he had better get it back before his father found out. His father never understood Nathaniel. Nathaniel is gone," she added. ^
"Got it backl" Bart's voice was edgy. "How and when did Nathaniel get the pin back?"
Blanche said, "Oh, we got it back for him. Dick and I." Her face was bitter. "We broke the law. I've been afraid of that old fooHshness for too long. I may as Well stop 'lying' altogether."
The old lady giggled.
"You broke into Kate's?" said Johnny alertly.
"I have always known," said Blanche drearily, ''that Dick could never have done that thing, because he was with me. And I have always known that McCauley did do it. Because he was lying about the pin. I could have proved it. I asked you not to rake this up."
'Will you prove it, now, please?" asked Johnny.
'Why, the pin wasn't in McCauley's pocket. It was in Kate Callahan's dresser drawer."
'My father," said Dick, "wasn't made of the stuff for
i^l intrigue. He was in a panic. Grandfather would have been
rough on him. He begged me. Well, at the time, it was
nS quite a challenge. Nothing loathe, Blanche and I did a
spot of burglary. In a good cause." He was smiling. "Crazy kids."
"You found that pin in Kate Callahan's room after the killing?'' Johnny was brisk. "On the Sunday night?"
Dick's eyes shifted to his face. Dick said softly, "Yes, the Sunday night. You do get around." "I foimd it," Blanche said. "Took it?"
"Of course," said Dick. "Saved my father's life, you might say." Now, he sounded amused.
Bart said, "Blanche, you let your father go to court to defend this man, while you had this kind of knowledge secretly?"
"I was young," she stammered. "I'd disobeyed to go with Dick at all. And what we did was illegal. And anyhow I had gone away to school before the trial. I wasn't here." She raised her head. "And what diflFerence would it have made?" she cried, "It simply proved that Kate Callahan was lying. That McCauley had tajken Christy's pin. Everything I knew only proved what the jury beUeved, anyhow."
"You weren't the jury," said Dorothy Padgett intensely. "You weren't the judge , . ."
"Kids," said Dick sighing. "Kids don't snitch on each other. We had an adventure. And of course, it was for my father."
Nan said, "He did it for his father's sake . . .'' Johnny felt the hole in his mind, the sinking again. "FooHsh," said Dick. "Oh, well, at least everything is clear, now. Not so?" Johnny said, "Clear?"
Dorothy said, "Lies and secrets and the poor man in prison ..."
Blanche said to her pityingly, "But he did the killing, Dorothy. There was no injustice."
Bait said, "You come with me, Sims." He rose. .1
"Bart?" Blanche's voice trembled after him, but her hus- i| band did not stop or turn.
Johnny followed him into the wide hall, past the stairs, into the study. Johnny's thoughts whirled.
In the dark, he was thinking. A young girl, sneaking downstairs in a dark house. A young girl, breaking and entering, excited—thrilled as they say—in a strange room
and smely almost in the dark. Whatever Blanche thought she knew, Johnny did not know it. Did not know it, at alll
The square study was dark. Bait turned up a light.
He began to rummage in a low drawer under one of the glass-doored bookcases. "I've kept a lot of stuff," he muttered. He pulled out manila folders. He rose from the squat-ing position. "The servants' names, maybe."
"It was so long ago," said Johrmy slowly. "I didn't know the people."
"Neither did I, it seems," snapped Bart.
"Tell me about Nathaniel," Johnny said. "An artist, was he?"
"He used to paint," Bart said dryly.
"I don't know what to think," said Johnny rubbing his head. "Do you?"
Bart stood still. "No, I don't. My mx)ther was fantastically devoted to Nathaniel. He took shelter in her, and that 'flattered her, I suppose. Whereas I struck away on my own. But I am the son who takes care of her, as my father did." Johnny suddenly saw this to be a tenet of his pride.
Bart had paused. Then he said, "Nathaniel was a liar. He hed when he claimed he'd had nothing to do with Kate Callahan. My mother knew that much. But he got 'Ay mother to cover for him—and lie." Bart's mouth was a little bitter. "He got his son to cover for him—and steal. I am as anxious as you are to get to the bottom of this, now." Then he was blimt. "You want to think Dick had done it?"
Johnny said, "What I want is outside this matter, I hope. Did Dick get your wife to cover for him, too?"
Bart said, "In the dark?"
"Who told her what time it was?" Johnny said gently.
Nervously, Bart opened a folder. "What about this money?" He raised his head. "Dick claims not to have knovwi that Nan was any kind of an heiress. But did he know?"
"He may have," said Johnny cautiously. "I've thought of that, too."
"The reason I ask—" Bart said. "Has it ever struck you that Dick is attracted to Miss Dorothy?"
"No," said Johnny with shock.
"Watch him," said Bart grimly. "She is a beautiful girl and a most magnetic one. A plum, that Dorothy I Why is a man hke Dick attracted to the Httler one? Littler, in every sense."
Johnny said stiffly, "Nan was always shy."
"I'd like you to understand about the business," Bart said, verring. "There are replacements to be made. We need bot-thng machines, crushers, tractors. I'm into the bank already. Now my mother will give her interests to Dick. I have no right to stop her. They amount to a small percentage. Now, if Dick produces a hunk of capital immediately, I ought to take his money, count him a full partner. My mother expects it." Bart's face was hard. "I have been in this business for years. Dick has been what they call 'around.' He's done the so-called adventuresome stuff. He is tough, you'd tliink?"
Johnny murmured, "Hadn't thought . . ."
"Dick is the weak one," Bart said. "He never, in his life, stuck to a thing and pulled it tlirough. Z am tlie stronger man."
"I believe you," said Johnny softly.
Bart turned his eyes. "I am committed, of course," he said. "Now, let's see. Account book. Household. Yes, here's the year."
Johnny copied names in his notebook. Bart had no idea where the cook was nor the upstaiis maid or tlie weekly cleaning woman. The yardman's name was Delevan.
"But would he have been here at night?" asked Johnny.
"As a matter of fact, he was here that night. I know the poHce heard his testimony. But he was never called."
"What was his testimony?"
"That I don't know."
"How come he was here?"
"Why he—There used to be a hammock slung between two trees in the grove out at the front. It seems when he had worked late, and wanted to be here early the next day, he'd sometimes beg a meal in the kitchen and sleep in the hammock. My father discharged him when this came out. The hammock was supposed to be exclusively for the family." Bart seemed to stand, with the family's pride falling raggedly across his shoulders.
"He was never put on the stand at the trial?"
"No."
"I wonder why not."
"Must be that he saw absolutely nothing," said Bart Bartee.
"Is there any kind of address? Wait . . ." Jolinny snapped
his fingers. "I know where he is. Somebody told me he lives in some little settlement. Twomey? His testimony alibied Nathaniel!"
"Nathaniel," said Bart contempuously, "couldn't kill spiders. My mother used to do it for himi."
CHAPTER 14
Johnny followed Bart along the red carpet. In the parlor, Nan was tucked close to Dick on a pale yellow sofa. Dorothy and Blanche were seated apart. The old lady had vanished.
As Bart strode in, Blanche sent him a begging smile. Her thin face, upon which the high-bridged nose seemed so prominent, became pathetic.