WOMAN
Aulhor of ftheAMATHJR CRACKSMAN.
RAFFLES. Etc.
HLU5IRATIONS fey O. IRWIN MYERS
COPyRlCHT X Q BOBP3 --EBUfH COWVPAsy
SYNOPSIS.
Cazalet, on ths steamer Kaiser Frlti,
Homeward bound from Australia, ories
out In hit Bleep that Henry Craven, who
ten years before had ruined his father
end himself, la dead and flndi that Hil
ton Toye, who shares the atateroom with
Jim, knowi Craven and alio Blanche
Macnalr, a former neighbor and play
mate. When the dally papers come
8 aboard at Southampton Toye reads that
raven hae been murdered and calls
azalet s dream second sight. He thinks
I doing a little amateur detective work
on the case himself. In the train to town
Jl!lcu the murder, which was com
mitted at Cazalet's old home. Toye hears
rrom Cazalet that Scruton, who had been
cazalet s friend and the scapegoat for
graven s dishonesty, has been released
from pr son. Cazalet goes down the
river and meets Blanche.
CHAPTER V Continued.
He bad floundered to his feet aa
well. He was standing over her, feel
ing his way like a great fatuous cow
ard, so some might have thought But
It really looked as though Blanche was
not attending to what he did say; yet
neither was she watching her little
anglers stamped In Jet upon the sll
Tery stream, nor even seeing any more
of Nelly Potts In the Australian ver
anda. She had come home from Aus
tralia, and come In from the river, and
she was watching the open door at the
other end of the old schoolroom, listen
ing to those confounded steps coming
nearer and nearer and Cazalet was
gazing at her as though he roally had
aid something that deserved an an
wer. "Why, Miss Blanche!" cried a voice.
"And your old lady-ln-walting figured I
ahould find you flown!"
Hilton Toye was already a lands
Man and a Londoner from top to toe.
He was perfectly dressed for Bond
Street and his native simplicity of
bearing and address placed blm as
surely and firmly in the present pic
ture. He did not look the least bit out
of it But Cazalet did, in an instant;
his old bush clothes changed at once
Into a merely shabby suit of despica
ble cut; the romance dropped out of
tbem and their wearer, as he stood
like a trussed turkey-cock, and
watched a bunch of hothouse flowers
presented to the lady with a little gem
of a natural, courteous, and yet char
acteristically racy speech.
To the lady, mark you; for she was
one, on the spot; and Cazalet was a
nan again, and making a mighty effort
to behave himself because the hour
of boy and girl was over.
"Mr. Cazalet," said Toye, "I guess
you want to know what In thunder
I'm doing on your tracks so soon. It's
hog-luck, sir, because I wanted to see
you quite a lot, but I never thought
I'd strike you right here. Did you
hear the news?"
"No! What?"
There was no need to inquire as to
the class of news; the immediate past
had come back with Toye Into Caza
let's life; and even in Blanche's pres
ence, even in her schoolroom, the old
days bad flown into their proper place
and size in the perspective.
"They've made an arrest," said
Toye; and Cazalet nodded as though
"Mr. Cazalet," Said Toye, "I Guess
You Want to Know What I'm Doing
en Your Track."
Jie had quite expected it, which set
Blanche off trying to remember some
thing he had said at the other house;
but she had not succeeded when she
noticed the curious pallor of his chin
and forehead.
"Scruton?" he Just asked.
"Yes, sir! This morning," said Hil
ton Toye.
"Tou don't mean the poor man?"
cried Blanche, looking from one to the
other.
"Tea, he does," said Cazalet gloom
ily. He stared out at the river, seeing
nothing in his turn, though one of the
anglers was actually busy with his
reel.
"But I thought Mr. Scruton was
.still " Blanche remembered blm. re
membered dancing with him; she did
not like to say, "in prison."
"He came out the other day," sighed
-Cazalet "But bow like the police all
over! Give a dog a bad name, an J
- trust them to hunt it down and shoot
It at sight!"
' "I Judge It's not so bad as all that In
ithls country," said Hilton Toye.
"Taafi more Ilk the .police theory
ERNEST
W.HORMMj
about Scruton, I guess, bar drawing
the bead."
"When did you hear of it?" said
Cazalet.
"It was on the tape at the Savoy
when I got there. So I made an In
quiry, and I figured to look In at the
Kingston Court on my way to call
upon Miss Blanche. You see, I was
kind of interested in all you'd told me
about the case."
"Well?"
"Well, that wai my end of the situa
tion. As luck and management would
have It between them, I was in time to
hear your man "
"Not my man, please! You thought
of him yourself," said Cazalet sharply.
"Well, anyway, I was in time to hear
the proceedings opened against him.
They were all over in about a minute.
He was remanded till next week."
"How did he look?" and, "Had he a
beard?" demanded Cazalet and
Blanche simultaneously.
"He looked like a sick man," said
Toye, with something more than bis
usual deliberation in answering or
asking questions. "Yes, Miss Blanche,
he had a beard worthy of a free citi
zen." "They let them grow one, If they
like, before they come out," said Caza
let, with the nod of knowledge.
"Then I guess he was a wise man
not to take it off," rejoined Hilton
Toye. "That would only prejudice his
case, if It's going to be one of identity,
with that head gardener playing lead
in the witness-stand."
"Old Savage!" snorted Cazalet
"Why, he wag a dotard In our time;
they couldn't hang a dog on his evi
dence!" "Still." said Blanche, "I'd rather
have It than circumstantial evidence,
wouldn't you, Mr. Toye?"
"No, Miss Blanche, I would not," re
plied Toye, with unhesitating candor.
"The worst evidence in the world, In
my opinion, and I've given the matter
some thought, is the evidence of iden
tity." He turned to Cazalet, who had
betrayed a quickened interest in his
views. "Shall I tell you why? Think
how often you're not so sure if you
have seen a man before or if you never
have! You kind of shrink from nod
ding, or else you nod wrong; it you
didn't ever have that feeling, then
you're not like any other man I know."
"I have!" cried Cazalet "I've had
it all my life, even in the wilds; but
I never thought of it before."
"Think of it now," said Toye, "and
you'll see there may be flaws In the
best evidence of identity that money
can buy. But circumstantial evidence
can't lie, Miss Blanche, if you get
enough of it. If the links fit in, to
prove that a certain person was in a
certain place at a certain time, I guess
that's worth all the oaths of all the
eye-witnesses that ever saw daylight!"
Cazalet laughed harshly, as for no
apparent reason he led the way into
the garden. "Mr. Toye's made a study
of these things," he fired over his
snouiaer. "He should have been a
Sherlock Holmes, and rather wishes
he was one!"
"Give me time," said Toye, laugh
ing. "I may come along that way
yet."
Cazalet faoed him In a frame of
tangled greenery. "You told me you
wouldn't!"
"I did, sir, but that was before they
put salt on this poor old crook. If
you're right and he's not the man,
shouldn't you say that rather altered
the situation?"
CHAPTER VI.
Voluntary Service.
"And why do you think he can't
have done it?"
Cazalet had trundled the old canoe
over the rollers, and Blanche was
hardly paddling in the glassy strip
alongside the weir. Below the lock
there had been something to do, and
Blanche had done It deftly and silent
ly, with almost equal capacity and
grace. It bad given her a charming
flush and sparkle; and, what with the
sun's bare hand on her yellow hair,
she now looked even bonnier than in
doors, yet not quite, quite such a girl.
But then every bit of the boy had gone
out of Cazalet So that hour stolen
from the past was up forever.
"Why do the police think the other
thing?" he retorted. "What have they
got to go on? That's what I want to
know. I agree with Toye in one thing."
Blanche looked up quickly. "I wouldn't
trust old Savage an inch. I've been
thinking about him and his previous
evidence. Do you realize that it's
quite dark now soon after seven? It
was pretty thick saying his man was
bareheaded, with neither hat nor cap
left behind to prove It! Yet now It
seems he's put a beard to him, and
next we shall have the color of his
eyes!"
Blanche laughed at bis vigor of
phrase; this was more like the old,
hot-tempered, sometimes rather over
bearing Sweep. Something had made
him Jump to the conclusion that Scru
ton could not possibly have killed Mr.
Craven, whatever else he might have
tone in day gone by. So it simply
was Impossible, and anybody whe too
the other side would bars to reckon
benoeforth with Sweep Caialet
Mr. Toye already had reckoned with
him, In a little debate begun outside
the old summer schoolroom at Little
ford, and adjourned rather than fin
ished at the Iron gate Into the road. In
her heart of hearts Blanche could not
say that Cazalet had the best of the
argument. Toye had advanced a gen
eral principle with calm ability, but
Cazalet could not bo shifted from the
particular position he was so eager to
defend, and would only enter Into ab
stract questions to beg them out of
hand.
Blanche rather thought that neither
quite understood what the other
meant; but she could not blink the
fact that the old friend had neither the
dialectical mind nor the unfailing
courtesy of the new. That being so,
with her perception she might have
changed the subject; but she eould
see that Cazalet was thinking ot noth
ing else; and no wonder, since they
were approaching the scene of the
tragedy and his own old home, with
each long dip of her paddle.
It had been his own wish to start
upstream; but she could see the wist
ful pain In his eyes as they fell once
more upon the red turrets and the
smooth green lawn ot Uplands; and
she neither spoke nor looked at him
again until he spoke to her.
"I see they've got the blinds down
still," be said detachedly. "What's
happened to Mrs. Craven?"
"I hear she went into a nursing
home before the funeral."
"I expect we should find Savage
somewhere. Would you Tery much
He Clutched Her Hand, but Only at
He Might Have Clutched a Man's.
mind, Blanche? I should rather like
if It was Just Betting foot with you"
But even that effective final pronoun
failed to bring any buoyancy back Into
his voice; for it was not in the least
effective as he said it, and he no long
er looked her in the faoe. But this all
seemed natural to Blanche, in the
manifold and overlapping circum
stances of the case. She made for the
inlet at the upper end of the lawn.
And her prompt unquestioning ac
quiescence shamed Cazalet into further
and franker explanation, before he
could let her land to please him.
"You don't know how I feel this!"
he exclaimed quite miserably. "I mean
about poor old Scruton; he's gone
through so much as it Is, whatever he
may have done to deserve it long ago.
Is it conceivable that he should go
and do a thing like this the very mo
ment he gets out? I ask you, is it
even conceivable?"
Blanche understood him. And now
she showed herself golden to the core,
almost as an earnest of her fitness for
the fires before her.
"Poor fellow," she cried, "he has a
friend in you, at any rate! And I'll
help you to help him, if there's any
way I can."
He clutched her hand, but only at
he might have clutched a man's."
"You can't do anything; but I won't
forget that," he almost choked. "I
meant to stand by him in a very differ
ent way. He'd been down to the
depths, and I'd come up a bit; then
he was good to me as a lad, and it was
my father's partner who was the ruin
of him. I seemed to owe him some
thing, and now now I'll stand by him
whatever happens and whatever has
happened!"
Then they landed in the old, old in
let Cazalet knew every knot in the
post to which he tied Blanche's canoe.
It was a very different place, thlt
Uplands, from poor old Llttleford on
the lower reach. The grounds were
five or six acres Instead of about one,
and a house In quite another class
stood farther back from the river and
very much farther from the road.
The inlet began the western bound
ary, which continued past the boat
house in the shape ot a high hedge, a
herbaceous border (not what it had
been in the old days), and a gravel
path. This path was screened from
the lawn by a bank of rhododendrons,
as of course were the back yard and
kitchen premises, past which it led
into the front garden, eventually de
bouching Into the drive. It was the
path along which Cazalet led the way
this afternoon, and Blanche at his
heels was so struck by something that
she could not help telling him be knew
bis way very welL
(TO BB CONTINUED.)
Diplomacy.
"Look here, Charlie," said one young
undergrad to another, who had been
asked to run bis eye over a- letter
which his friend had written to his
father, In which there was the inevi
table request for money, "you've
Bpelled Jug, g-u-g!" "I know," said
Charlie; "but you see I need the cash,
and don't want the eld man to think
I'm putting on airs. That's how he
spells it"
THOUSAND!!!
Aulhor of T3heAMfflEUR CEACK5MAN.
RAFFLES. Etc.
IttUSTEATlONS by O. IRWIN MVERS
COPTlCHT CV SOBP3 -AW1U
8YNOP8I8.
6
Cssalet. on the steamer Kaiser Frlta.
homeward bound from Australia, orles
out In his sleep that Henry Craven, who
ten years before had ruined his father
and himself, Is dead and finds that Hil
ton Toye, who shures the stateroom wun
him, knows Craven and also Blanche
Macnalr, a former neighbor and play
mate, when the dally papers come
aboard at Southampton Toye reads that
Craven has been murdered and culls
Cazalet's dream second sight. He thinks
of doing a little amateur detective work
on the case himself. In the train to town
they discuss the murder, which was com
mitted at Cazalet's old home. Toye hears
from Cazalet that Scruton, who had been
Cazalet's friend and the scapegoat for
Craven's dishonesty, has been released
from prison. Cazalet goes down the
river and meets Blanche. Toye also
comes to see her and tells Cazulet that
Scruton has been arrested, but aa he
doesn't believe the old clerk Is guilty he
Is going to ferret out the murderer.
Cazalet and Blanche go to Cazalot's old
home.
CHAPTER VI Continued.
Every inch of It!" he said bitterly.
But so I ought, if anybody does."
'But these rhododendrons weren't
here in your time. They're the one
Improvement Don't you remember
how the path ran around to the other
end of the yard? This gate into it
waBn't made."
"No more it was," said Cazalet, as
they came up to the new gate on the
right. It was open, and looking
through they could see where the old
gateway had been bricked. The rhodo
dendrons topped the yard wall at that
point, masking it from the lawn, and
making on the whole an Improvement
of which anybody but a former son ot
the house might have taken more ac
count He said he could see no other
change. But for the fact that these
windows were wide open, the whole
place seemed as deserted as Little
Ford; but Just past the windows, and
flush with them, was the tradesmen's
door, and the two trespassers were
barely abreast of It when this door
opened and disgorged a man.
The -man was at first sight a most
Incongruous figure for the back prem
ises ot any house, especially in the
country. He was tall, rather stout
very powerfully built and rather hand
some, in his way; yet not tor one mo
ment was thla personage In the pic
ture, In the sense In which Hilton
Toye had stepped Into the Llttleford
picture.
"May I ask what you're doing here?"
he demanded bluntly of the male in
truder. .
"No harm, I hope," replied Cazalet,
smiling, much to his companion's re
lief. She had done him an injustice,
however, in dreading an explosion
when they were both obviously In the
wrong, and she greatly admired the
tone he took so readily. "I know
we've no business here whatever; but
"May I Ask What You're Doing
Hero?" He Bluntly Asked.
it happens to be my old home, and I
only landed from Australia last night.
I'm on the river for the first time, and
simply had to have a look around."
The other big man had looked far
from propitiated by the earlier of
these remarks, but the closing sen
tences had worked a change.
"Are you young Mr. Cazalet?" he
cried.
"I 'am, or rather I was," laughed
Cazalet still on his mettle.
"You've read all about the case
then, I don't mind betting!" exclaimed
the other with a Jerk of his topper to
ward the house behind him.
"I've read all I found In the papers
last night and this morning, and such
arrears as I've been able to lay my
bands on," said Cazalet. "But, as I
tell you, my ship only got In from Aus
tralia last night and I came round all
the way In her. There was nothing
In the English papers when we
touched at Genoa."
"I see, I see." The man was still
looking him up and down. "Well, Mr.
Cazalet my name's Drinkwater, and
I'm from Scotland Yard. I happen to
be In charge of the case."
"I guessed as much," said Cazalet,
and this surprised Blanche more than
anything else from him. Yet nothing
about him was any longer like the
Sweep of other days, or of any previ
ous part of that very afternoon. And
thja was also tasy to understand on
reflection; for If he meant to stand
by the hapless Scruton, guilty or not
guilty, he could not perhaps begin bet
ter than by getting on good terms
with the police. But his ready tact.
and In that csbo cunning, were cer
tainly a revelation to one who had
known him niarvelously as boy and
youth.
I mustn't ask questions," he con
tinued, "but I see you're still search
ing for things, Mr, Drinkwater."
"Still minding our own Job," said
Mr. Drinkwater genially. They had
sauntered on with him to the corner
of the house, and seen a bowler bat
bobbing In the shrubbery down the
drive. Cazalet laughed like a man,
"Well, I needn't tell you I know ev
ery Inch of the old place," he said;
that la, barring alterations, as
Blanche caught his eye. "But I expect
this search is narrowed, rather?"
"Rather," said Mr. Drinkwater,
standing still In the drive. He had
also taken out a presentation gold
half-hunter, suitably Inscribed In mem
ory of one of his more bloodless vic
tories. But Cazalet could always be
obtuse, and now he refused to look
an Inch lower than the detective-
inspector's bright brown eyes.
"There's Just one place that's oc
curred to me, Mr. Drinkwater, that
perhaps may not have occurred to
you."
"Where's that Mr. Cazalet?"
"In the room where the room
Itself."
Mr. Drlnkwater's long stare ended
In an Indulgent smile. "You can show
me If you like," said he indifferently.
"But I suppose you know we've got
the man?"
CHAPTER VII.
After Michael Angelo.
"I was thinking of his cap," said
Cazalet, but only as they returned to
the tradesmen's door, and Just as
Blanche put in her word, "What about
me?"
Mr. Drinkwater eyed the trim white
figure standing in the sun. "The more
the merrier!" his grim humor had it
"I dare say you'll be able to teach us
a thing or two as well, miss."
She could not help nudging Cazalet
in recognition of thla shaft. But Caza
let did not look round; he had now set
foot In his old home.
It was all strangely still and Inactive,
as though domestic animation had
been suspended Indefinitely. Yet the
open kitchen door revealed a female
form In mufti; a sullen face looked
out of the pantry as they passed; and
through the old green door (only now
it was a red one) they found another
bowler hat bent over a pink paper at
the foot of the stairs. There was a
glitter of eyes under the bowler's
brim as Mr. Drinkwater conducted his
friends into the library.
The library was a square room of
respectable size, but very close and
dim with the one French window
closed and curtained. Mr. Drinkwa
ter shut the door as well, and
switched on all the electrlo lamps.
The electric light had been put In by
the Cravens; all the other fixtures In
the room were as Cazalet remembered
them. But the former son of the bouse
gave himself no time to waste in senti
mental comparisons. He tapped a pair
of mahogany doors, like those of a
wardrobe let Into the wall.
"Have you looked in here?" de
manded Cazalet.
"What's the use of looking In a ci
gar cupboard?" Drinkwater made mild
Inquiry.
"Cigar cupboard!" echoed Cazalet
In disgust. "Did he really only use it
tor his cigars?"
"A cigar cupboard," repeated Drink
water, "and locked up at the time it
happened. What was It, if I may ask.
In Mr. Cazalet's time?"
"I remember!" came suddenly from
Blanche; but Cazalet only said, "Oh,
well, If you know It was locked there's
an end ot It"
Drinkwater went to the door and
summoned his subordinate. "Just
fetch that chap from the pantry,
Tom," said he; but the sullen sufferer
from police rule took his time, In spite
ot them, and was sharply rated when
be appeared.
"I thought you told me this was a
cigar cupboard?" continued Drink
water, in the browbeating tone of hie
first words to Cazalet outside.
"So it is," said the man,
"Then Where's the key?"
"How should I know? I never kept
It!" cried the butler, crowing over
his oppressor for a change. "He would
keep It on his own bunch; find his
watch, and all tbe other things that
were missing from bis pockets when
your men went through 'em, and you
may find his keys, too!"
Drinkwater gave his man a double
signal; the door slammed on a petty
triumph for the servants' hall; but
now both Invaders remained within.
"Try your hand on it, Tom," said the
superior officer. "I'm a free-lance
here," he explained somewhat super
fluously to the others, as Tom applied
himself to the lock in one mahogany
door. "Man's been drinking, I should
aay. He'd better be careful, because)
I don't take to him, drunk or sober.
I'm not surprised at his master not
trusting him. It's Just possible that
the place was open-Hie might have
been getting out bis olgari before
dinner but I can't' say I think there'-
much in it, Mr. Cazalet."
It was open again broken open-
before many minutes; and certainly
there was not much In It to be seen,
except cigars. Boxes ot these were
stacked on what might have beet
meant tor a shallow desk (the whole
place was shallow as the wardrobe
that the doors suggested, but lighted
high up at one end by a little barred
window of its own) and according
to Cazalet a desk it had really been.
Hli poor father ought never to bar
been a business man; he ought to
have been a poet Caialet said thli
now as simply as he had said it to
Hilton Toye on board tbe Kaiser Frit.
Only he went rather further tor the
benefit of the gentlemen from Scot
land Yard, who took not the faintest
Interest In the late Mr. Cazalet, be
yond poking their noses into his di
minutive sanctum and duly turning
them up at what they saw.
"He used to complain that he was
never left in peace on Saturdays and
Sundays, which of course were his
"You Ought to Have Been a Burglar,
Sir," Said Mr. Drinkwater.
only quiet times for writing," said the
son, elaborating bis tale with filial
piety. "So once when I'd been trying
to die ot scarlet fever, and my mother
brought me back from Hastings after
she'd had me there some time, the
old governor told us he'd got a place
where he could disappear from the
district at a moment's notice and yet
be back In another moment If we rang
the gong. I fancy he'd got to tell her
where it was, pretty quick; but I only
found out for myself by accident
Years afterward be told me he'd got
the Idea from Jean Ingelow's place in
Italy somewhere."
"It's In Florence,"' said Blanche,
laughing. "I've been there and seen
It, and it's the exact same thing. But
you mean Michael Angelo, Sweep t"
"Ob, do I?" ho said serenely. "Well
I shall never forget how I found out
Its existence."
"No more shall I. You told me all
about it at the time, as a terrlflo se
cret, and I may tell you that I've kept
it from that day to this!"
"You would," he said simply. "But
think of having the nerve to pull up
the governor's floor! It only showa
what a boy will do. I wonder If the
hole's there still!"
Now all the time the planetary de
tective had been watching his satel
lite engaged In an attempt to render
the damage done to the mahogany
doors a little less conspicuous. Nei
ther appeared to be taking any further
Interest in the cigar cupboard, or pay
ing the slightest attention to Caza
let's reminiscences. But Mr. Drink
water happened to have heard every
word, and In the last sentence there
was one that caused blm to prick up
his expert ears Instinctively.
"What's that about a hole?" said
he, turning round.
"I was reminding Miss Macnalr how
the place first came to be"
"Yes, yes. But what about some
hole In the floor?"
"I made one myself with one ot
those knives that contain all sorts ol
ot things, Including a bbw. It was on
Saturday afternoon In the summer hol
idays. I came in here from the gar
den as my father went out by that
door Into the hall, leaving one ot
these mahogany doors open by mis
take. It was the chance of my life;
In I slipped to have a look. He came
back for something, saw the very door
you've broken standing ajar, and shut
it without looking In. So there I was
In a nice old trap! I simply dareat
call out and give myself away. Thero
was a bit of loose oilcloth on the
floor"
"There Is still," said the satellite,
pausing in his task.
"I moved the oilcloth, In the end;
hawked up one end of the board (luck
ily they weren't groove and tongue),
sawed through the next one to It had
It up, too, and got through Into the
foundations, leaving everything much
as 1 bad found It The place is so
small that the oilcloth was obliged to
fall in place If It fell anywhere. But
I had plenty of time, because my
people had gone in to dinner."
"You ought to have been a burglar;
sir," said Mr. Drinkwater Ironically.
"So you covered up a sin with a crime,
like half the gentlemen who go
through my hands for the first and
last timet But how did yon get 4
of the foundations?"
(TO Bl CONTINUED