Howard Wycliff nodded.
“All right.” Marchelle’s tone was normal. “Let’s go in to breakfast.”
With these words, Marchelle deliberately closed the door of the library. The lock clicked. Together, the young men passed by the hanging curtains and reached the dining room beyond. Miles Vorber was standing just within the door.
Howard Wycliff, aroused to a new train of thought by Paul Marchelle’s actions, immediately glanced at Vorber. He suspected at once that the servant had been listening, and that Marchelle had been cognizant of the fact.
Breakfast ended, Howard suggested a return to the library. Vorber, who was clearing the table, stopped to remind his master that there was work to be done before the moving men arrived.
“Those books, sir,” said the servant. “You ordered me to take them upstairs.”
“That’s right,” recalled Howard. “You can do that this morning, Vorber. We’ll call you when we’re ready. The library needs an airing.”
“I can unbar the shutters, sir—”
“We’ll attend to that, Vorber.”
WITH Marchelle, Howard went to the library, unlocked the door, and entered. As soon as Marchelle had followed him into the gloomy room, Howard closed the door tightly. He pointed to the windows.
“You think we should keep them shut, Paul?” he questioned. “It would be better to have them open; the place is very stuffy.”
“It’s all right so long as we are in here,” returned Marchelle, in a significant tone.
Howard Wycliff nodded as he unbarred and opened one window. Paul Marchelle did the same with the other pair of shutters. Meeting in the center of the room, the young men sat down. Howard Wycliff looked at Paul Marchelle.
“I understand what you meant by insisting that the door be locked,” declared Howard. “I didn’t get the idea at first, Paul; but when I saw Vorber in the dining room, I began to realize. Did anything happen in here last night?”
“Not after we came in.”
Howard Wycliff nodded as he considered Marchelle’s reply. It broached a thought which Howard had already gained: namely, that Miles Vorber’s talk about someone being in the library was no more than a pretense on the servant’s part.
“Paul,” said Howard, in a low tone, “I’m beginning to wonder about Vorber’s attitude. Do you think that he is playing some game? Should we watch him?”
“It is wise,” returned Marchelle quietly, “to watch anyone who is watching others.”
“You mean that Vorber—”
“Vorber has been constantly snooping into affairs which do not concern him. I noticed that the first night that we met here to discuss the matter of the missing deed.”
Howard Wycliff nodded thoughtfully. He recalled the promptness with which Vorber had entered the room on that first evening. He remembered other incidents; and the final one was the discovery of Vorber just outside the closed door of the library. This culmination of a train of thought brought a sharp exclamation from Howard Wycliff’s lips.
“Maybe Vorber was in here!” Howard Wycliff stared with a serious expression. “He may have come to search for the lost deed.”
“You have the only key.”
“There could be a duplicate. I have the one belonging to my father. I naturally assumed that it was the only key. Until my father died, however, there was no particular significance attached to this room. If Vorber has another key—”
“He might be able to beat you to the finding of the deed,” completed Marchelle.
“For what purpose?” questioned Howard. “It could be of no use to him.”
PAUL MARCHELLE shook his head. He strolled toward the opened window, and stood in the sunlight. His face showed puzzlement. Howard Wycliff approached and voiced a new idea, still guarding his tones, even though the door was closed.
“Could it be revenge?” he queried. “Father treated Vorber rather shabbily — there was no legacy to follow Vorber’s years of service. Vorber knew all along that he would probably be left no money by my father’s will.”
“Yes,” returned Marchelle, in a meditative tone, “that might be the reason. If Vorber should find that deed, he could destroy it, and thus deprive you of a legacy which may have value—”
“Or he could hold it,” broke in Howard, “and demand cash for its delivery. I hate to suspect Vorber of crookedness, Paul; nevertheless, his suspicious actions have impressed me unfavorably, now that I review them.”
“I have been watching Vorber,” admitted Marchelle. “The only reason that I did not tell you so was because I knew you held the old servant in high regard. Vorber is naturally a suspicious type of person. I made allowances for his behavior, and I did not care to injure him in your esteem.”
“Very fair,” commended Howard Wycliff. “The time for allowances, however, is past. We need vigilance instead.”
“Right,” agreed Marchelle.
“Do you think,” quizzed Howard, “that Vorber could already have found the deed?”
“No,” decided Marchelle. “We evidently surprised him while he was here in the library. If he had already found the deed, he would not have been in this room. Perhaps he has located it, but he cannot have taken it. It would have been impossible for him to have had the document in his possession when we entered last night.”
“We’ll have to watch him,” asserted Howard.
“Exactly,” agreed Marchelle. “We cannot depend upon the locked door. I would suggest that we take turns here in the library, or, better, occupy the room as a matter of course until the moving men arrive.”
“Vorber has to move those books.”
“We can help him. When the furniture goes out, I shall check every item on the list.”
Howard Wycliff nodded as he stared through the opened window. There was no need for further conference. Miles Vorber could not be listening to this conversation, but it was possible that the servant was wondering why Howard Wycliff and Paul Marchelle had entered into a guarded discussion behind a closed door.
“I am counting on you, Paul,” declared Howard, as he turned to leave the library. “If Vorber has some scheme—”
“Let’s give the old fellow the benefit of the doubt,” interposed Marchelle, “until we know positively that he has something up his sleeve. Act naturally. Move the books and furniture. The test will come tomorrow, when the room is torn up. We can supervise that work and send Vorber elsewhere. Let’s hope that he is on the level. After all, he served your father for many years. His present attitude may simply be a mistaken notion of responsibility.”
“That is possible,” agreed Howard Wycliff. “Nevertheless, we must be vigilant.”
The young man opened the door as he spoke. He stopped, face to face with Miles Vorber. The servant stepped back and bowed.
“What about the books, sir?” questioned Vorber.
“You can move them now.” Howard Wycliff watched the servant closely as he spoke. “Mr. Marchelle and I can help you.”
As he spoke, Howard Wycliff fancied that he saw a flicker of disappointment upon Miles Vorber’s face. The expression changed. Stolidly, Vorber entered the library and picked up a stack of books. Howard Wycliff’s glanced significantly at Paul Marchelle.
The new vigil was in operation. From now until the room was devoid of books and furniture, Miles Vorber would be under double surveillance.
CHAPTER XX
MARCHELLE CHECKS
It was nearly noon before all the books were removed from the library. During the entire period of work, Howard Wycliff and Paul Marchelle took turns carrying books upstairs. Always, however, one of the two watchers remained in the library while Miles Vorber was there.
When lunch was announced, Howard Wycliff calmly barred the windows and locked the door of the library. He and Paul Marchelle, at lunch, were able to keep watch upon Vorber. The old servant, moving about as furtively as usual, gave no signs that he suspected vigilant eyes were upon him.