"No. But what can I do--what influence have I with him--" she was beginning, but I broke in on her.
"Barbara, you and I are going to find the real murderer, before the c.u.mmings-d.y.k.eman bunch discover a way into and out of that bolted study.
Those people want to see Worth in jail."
There was a long pause while she faced me, the rich color failing a little in her cheeks.
"I see," speaking slowly, studying each word. "And as long as we didn"t find out how to enter and leave the study, we have no way of knowing how hard or how easy it"s going to be for them to find it out. We--" her voice still lower--"we can"t tell if they already know it or not."
"Yes we can," I leaned forward to say. "The minute they know that--Worth Gilbert will be charged with murder."
I hit hard enough that time to bring blood, but she bled inwardly, sitting there staring at me, quite pale, finally faltering,
"Well--I can"t stop to think of his having followed Ina Vandeman south--on her wedding trip--if he needs me--and I can help--I must--"
she broke down completely, and I sat there feeling big-footed and blundering at this revelation of what it was that had put that clear, logical mind of hers off the track, left her confused, groping, just a girl, timid, distrustful of her own judgment where her heart was concerned.
"Was that it all the time?" I asked. "Well, take it from me, Worth"s done nothing of the sort. He"s been playing detective, not chasing off after some other man"s bride."
Up came the color to her cheeks, she reached that mite of a hand across to shake on the bargain with,
"I"ll go straight down this evening. You"ll find me in Santa Ysobel when you come, Mr. Boyne."
"At the Thornhills"?" It might be handy to have her there; but she shook her head, looking a little self-conscious.
"I"m taking that spare room at Sarah Capehart"s. Skeet wanted me, and I have an invitation from Laura Bowman; but if--well, seeing that this investigation is going to cover all that neighborhood, I thought I"d rather be with Sarah."
The level-headed little thing! Pete and I had the pleasure of taking her out to her home where she had her packing to attend to. On the way she spoke of an engagement with c.u.mmings for the theater Sat.u.r.day night.
"And instead, I suppose I shall be at the carnival ball. Shall I tell him that in my note, Mr. Boyne? Is it all right to let him know?"
"It"s all right," I a.s.sented. "You can bet c.u.mmings is due down there as soon as Worth shows up; and that must be soon, now."
"Yes," Barbara agreed. Her face clouded a little. "You noticed in Skeet"s letter that they"re expecting Ina to-morrow."
Poor child--she couldn"t get away from it. I patted the hand I had taken to say good-by and a.s.sured her again,
"Worth Gilbert hasn"t been in the south. I wonder at you, Barbara.
You"re so clear headed about everything else--don"t you see that that would be impossible?"
Then I drove back to my office, to find lying on my desk a telegram from the young man, dated at Los Angeles, requesting me to meet him at Santa Ysobel the following evening!
CHAPTER XVII
CLEANSING FIRES
Wednesday evening I pulled into a different Santa Ysobel: lanterns strung across between the buildings, bunting and branches of bloom everywhere, streets alive with people milling around, and cars piled high with decorative material, crowded with the decorators. The carnival of blossoms was only three days ahead.
At Bill Capehart"s garage they told me Barbara was out somewhere with the crowd; and a few minutes later on Main Street, I met her in a Ford truck. Skeet Thornhill was at the wheel, adding to the general risk of life and limb on Santa Ysobel streets, carrying a half a dozen or more other young things tucked away behind. Both girls shouted at me; they were going somewhere for something and would see me later.
Getting down toward the Gilbert place, just beyond the corner, I flushed from the shadows of the pepper trees a bird I knew to be one of d.y.k.eman"s operatives. Watching his carefully careless progress on past the Gilbert lawn, then the Vandeman grounds, my eye was led to a pair who approached across the green from the direction of the bungalow. No mistaking the woman; even at this distance, height and the clean sweep of her walk, told me that this was the bride, Ina Vandeman. And the man strolling beside her--had he come with her from the house, or joined her on the cross-cut path?--could that be Worth Gilbert?
I sat in the roadster and gaped. The evening light--behind them, and dim enough at best--made their countenances fairly indistinguishable. At the gap in the hedge, they paused, and Mrs. Vandeman reached out, broke off a flower to fasten in his b.u.t.tonhole, looking up into his face, talking quickly. Old stuff--but always good reliable old stuff. Then Worth saw me and hailed, "h.e.l.lo, Jerry!" But he did not come to me, and I swung out of the machine to the sidewalk.
I heard the sobbing of the Ford truck; it went by, missing my runningboard by an inch, stopped at Vandeman"s gate and Skeet discharged her cargo of clamor to stream across the sidewalk and up toward the bungalow. I saw Barbara, in the midst of the moving figures, suddenly stop, knew she had seen the two over there, and crossed to her, with a cheerful,
"He"s here all right."
"Oh, yes," not looking toward the gap in the hedge, or at me. "He came on the same train with--with them."
Then some one from the porch yowled reproachfully for her to fetch those banners _p.r.o.nto_, and with a little catching of breath, she ran on up the walk.
I turned back. Worth and Ina had moved on. Bronson Vandeman, well groomed, dressed as though he had just come in off the golf links, his English shoes and loud patterned stockings differentiating him from the crude outdoor man of the Coast, had joined them on the Gilbert lawn; his genial greeting to me let his bride get by with a mere bow, turning at once back to her house by the front walk. But rather to my annoyance, Vandeman came bounding up the steps after us. I judged Worth must have invited him.
Chung carried my suitcase upstairs, and lingered a minute in my room.
I"ll swear it wasn"t merely to get the tip for which he thanked me, but with the idea of showing me in some recondite, Oriental fashion that he was glad I"d come. This interested me. The people who were glad to have me in Santa Ysobel at this time belonged on the clean side of my ledger.
Then I went downstairs to find Vandeman still in the living room, sprawled at ease beside the window, looking round with a display of his fine teeth, reaching a hand to pull in the chair Worth set for me.
"Well, Jerry," that young man prompted, indicating by a careless gesture the smokers" tray on the table beside me, "there is time before dinner for the tale of your exploits. How"s my friend Steve?"
I began to select a cigar, and said shortly,
"It"s all in reports waiting for you at my office."
"Yes." Worth ignored my irritation. "Tell it. What"d you do down south?"
"Just back from the south yourself, aren"t you?" I countered.
"Sure," airily. "But I wasn"t there to b.u.t.t in on your game. Did you find that Skeels was Clayte?"
I merely looked over the flame of my match at that small-town society man, smiling back at me with a show of polite interest.
"Go on," Worth interpreted. "Vandeman knows all about it. I tried to sell him a few shares of stock in the suitcase, so he"ll take an interest in the game; but he"s too much the tight-wad to buy."
"Oh, no," deprecated Vandeman. "Just no gambler; hate to take a chance."
He ran his fingers through his hair, tossing it up with a gesture I had noticed when he came back from the dance at Tait"s.
"All right--apology accepted," Worth nodded. "Anyway, you didn"t. Well, Jerry?"
Vandeman waited a moment with natural curiosity, then, as I still said nothing, giving my attention to my smoke, moved reluctantly to rise, saying,
"That means I"d better chase along and let you two talk business."
"No. Sit tight," from Worth.
I was mad clear through, and disturbed and apprehensive, too. I managed a brief, dry statement of the outcome in the south. Worth hailed it with,