Gordon Craig Part 16

"What do you mean to do?"

The question was asked quietly, and I glanced at her, noting the color had returned to her cheeks.

"I? Why remain and ferret it out, I suppose," and I laughed. "I was never very good at running away, and really I must get at the bottom of this affair. Coombs is going to have a talk with me later--intends to make sure who I am, no doubt--and I may learn something from him during the interview. Anyhow, I am just obstinate enough to stay it out."

"What about me?"

"You better return to town; a traveling man on the train said there was a good hotel. Probably Coombs has some kind of a rig we can drive down in. I 'll ask him after breakfast."

"Is it because you do not wish me with you?"

I hesitated slightly, confused by such direct questioning.

"I shall feel more free alone," I replied at last, "for I shall have only myself to guard. I am used to taking care of myself. Besides, this is likely to prove a rather unpleasant situation for a lady. You must remember I propose to fight this thing out now in the open. I am going to be Gordon Craig, and not a make-believe Philip Henley. The scene has changed, and I 'm glad of it. I feel more like a man already."

"And you conclude I can be of no help, no a.s.sistance--"

The cracked voice of Sallie came to us up the stairs, the unexpected sound startling both.

"I reckon you all better com' down an' eat."

She stood in the light of the front door watching us, and we descended the flight of steps without exchanging a word. The woman turned and walked in advance into the dining-room.

"Where is Coombs?" I asked, looking about curiously.

"He done eat already, but I reckon he 'll be 'round 'gain after a while. You all just help yerselves."

We endeavored to talk as we sampled the meal, directing our conversation into safe channels, both obsessed with a feeling that whatever we said would be overheard. The woman vanished into the dark pa.s.sage leading toward the kitchen, but no sound of labor reached us from that direction, which made me suspicious that she lingered not far from where we sat. I caught Mrs. Henley's eyes occasionally straying in that direction uneasily. Yet she managed to keep up a sprightly conversation, largely relating to the country we had traveled over.

Neither of us ate heartily, merely toying with the rather unpalatable food, and, as soon as we dared, pushed back our chairs. It was a relief to get out of the room, but as we stood a moment in the front doorway, breathing in the fresh air, I noticed a giant form approaching the house through the weeds.

"Coombs is coming already for his interview," I said hastily. "As it may be stormy perhaps you had better retreat upstairs."

She glanced in the direction of his approach, and drew slightly back into the shadow of the hall. There was a flush on her cheeks, and her eyes met mine almost defiantly.

"I will go," she said quickly, "but I shall not leave this house while you remain."

CHAPTER XVI

COMPELLING SPEECH

She was gone before I could speak, before I could even grasp the full purport of her decision. I followed the flutter of her skirt up the stairs, half tempted to rush after, yet as instantly comprehended the uselessness of any attempt at influencing her. Even the short s.p.a.ce of our acquaintance had served to convince me that she was a woman of resource, of character, and determination. If she felt it right to remain no argument would be effective, or have the slightest weight.

Perhaps another night would change her mood, but now, in the sunshine, her courage would hold steadfast. Even as these considerations flashed across my mind, I heard the thud of Coombs' feet upon the steps of the veranda. That he had been drinking I realized at a glance, and it was equally evident that he planned to overawe me by brutal domineering.

In spite of every effort to control my expression I could not restrain a smile at the manifest bl.u.s.ter of his approach.

"So yer 've got through eatin', hey," he began coa.r.s.ely. "Whar 's the female? Thought I saw her here."

"You did," I returned coldly, "but Mrs. Henley has returned to her room."

"Mrs. Henley, huh! Think yer kin pull thet bluff over me!"

"What bluff?"

"Aw, this Henley racket you sprung last night--'bout yer being young Phil Henley come back."

"Did I say that?"

"Yer shure did," eyeing me in some surprise. "I reckon my ears heard all right. Why, what are yer this morning?"

"If I ever made any such claim as that, Coombs, it was merely to a.s.sure our admittance. You were not overly-cordial, you know, and I did n't propose having the lady walk back to town. It's different this morning, and I am going to be just as frank with you as you are with me. Is that square?"

"I reckon," uneasily, not yet able to gauge my purpose, and feeling his bluff a failure. "I ain't got nothin' ter lie about so fur as I know.

Let's go inside, whar we kin have it out quiet like."

I followed him into the front room, and he kicked out a chair so as to bring my face to the windows. As I sank into it I noticed a dusty mirror opposite which gave me a dim reflection of the entire room.

Coombs shut the door leading to the back of the house, and sat down facing me, his big hands on his knees. His effort to look pleasant only made him appear uglier than usual.

"Wal, go on!" he said gruffly.

I crossed my legs comfortably, and leaned back in the chair, quite conscious of thus adding to his irritation. If I could only anger the fellow sufficiently he might blurt out something of value. Anyhow, my best card was cool indifference.

"There is not much to say," I replied deliberately. "I 'll answer your questions so far as I think best, and then I 'll ask a few of you. The lady upstairs is Viola Henley, the wife of Philip Henley. She has come down here to take legal possession of this property. That is the situation in a nutsh.e.l.l. I am merely accompanying her to make sure that she gets a square deal."

His jaw sagged, and his eyes wandered.

"Oh, h.e.l.l," he managed to articulate. "What is your real game?"

"Exactly as I have stated it, Coombs. To the best of my knowledge Philip Henley is dead--at least he has disappeared--and his widow is the rightful heir to this estate."

"Wal, I reckon he ain't dead--not by a jugful."

I felt the hot blood pump in my veins. Did the man know this to be true, or was he merely making the claim for effect?

"That, of course, remains to be proven," I returned smilingly.

"Oh, does it, now! So does this yer wife business, to my thinkin'.

Wal, it won't take long ter settle the matter, believe me. Who are you enyhow?"

"My name is Craig--Gordon Craig."

"A lawyer?"

"Not guilty."

"A d.a.m.n detective?"

"Same plea."