The Monk of Hambleton Part 22

"When peace will mantle the earth, I suppose!"

"Possibly so," answered the big man imperturbably. "I know if I were a crook engaged in a campaign of crime I'd be apt to desist if a detective suddenly appeared over the horizon. Wouldn't you?"

"Not if I thought he was scared of me!"

"Oh--I see." Mr. Krech's face, normally pink, deepened to a delicate shade of rose. "Rather cheap, that, isn't it, Varr? No, Creighton is not scared of crooks so you could notice it, but he's not a darn' fool either. Anyway, there it is. Take it or leave it."

"I'll leave it, thank you. Does he think I'm going to wire the Governor to turn out the militia?"

"He'd be more likely to suggest that you wire the nearest asylum for a competent keeper; he has a rough tongue at times."

"Humph. When's he coming?"

"First train in the morning. Gets here at eleven."

"I'll drive down and meet him. Will he stop at the hotel, or will he expect me to put him up here?"

"You'd better settle that with him, Mr. Varr. He's not a roughneck, if that's what you mean." Krech contemplated the tanner reflectively; there were several things he wished to tell him but he manfully swallowed them all. "Good-day, sir!"

His doubts of the morning were reborn as he left the study, unattended.

Had he any right to inflict this specimen on Creighton? He could only hope that the detective's sense of humor would prove a buffer between him and his patron's boorishness. If not--

His cogitations ended abruptly as he spied Miss Ocky awaiting him in the living-room. He had caught her with her eye so attentively fixed on the study door as to suggest that a less refined woman might have had an ear glued to the keyhole. He beamed on her, his customary good-nature again in the ascendant as he left the irritating tanner behind.

"h.e.l.lo," he greeted her cheerfully. "Others all waiting for me outside?"

"Yes. Your wife has apologized for you twice, I believe. I think it was mean of you to shut yourself up like that after getting me all excited about detectives and things! What were you two talking about?"

"Secrets," chuckled Mr. Krech. He continued to move implacably toward the front door as she marched with equal determination at his elbow.

"Just a girly-girly heart-to-heart talk. Delightful fellow, isn't he?"

"Humph. You might remember he wasn't the only victim of the robbery.

If he lost a notebook, I lost a perfectly good dagger. Why can't I know what's going on, too?" She cooed softly. "_Please_, Mr. Krech!"

"Well, if you _must_ know! I asked him, 'Vot iss a tanner?' and he said, '_Vat_ do you mean?', and then--"

"_Oh!_" cried Miss Ocky, and flounced. Then her indignation gave way to laughter. "Mr. Krech, you're a--a _sus domesticus_!"'

"French for diplomat, I take it," he retorted amiably, and left her on the top step as he surged across the piazza and down to the waiting car. Nevertheless, he sought his more erudite spouse at the first opportunity.

"Jean, what's a _sus domesticus_?"

"Gracious!" She wrinkled her beautiful brow for a moment, but she had taught school for a while before acquiring wedded affluence and the answer presently came to her. "Why--a common pig, I suppose."

"Gosh. A _common_ pig? Not even a nice, clean, pink-and-white, prize-winning pig?"

"No. What _are_ you talking about?"

"Nothing. Nothing _a_-tall! Say--what did you think of that Copley woman?"

"Miss Copley? Very interesting. Very attractive. I liked her immensely. Didn't you?"

He thought that over an instant. Then, like Miss Ocky, he surrendered to amus.e.m.e.nt and gave one of his deep chuckles.

"Yes," he said. "I did. Sometime I'd like to pack a dictionary with me and drop in on her for a chat!"

After Krech had dropped his unwelcome warning and departed, Simon Varr turned to his desk and tried to forget some of his immediate problems by attacking a small ma.s.s of correspondence that he had brought home from the office after the innumerable interruptions of the morning. He did not succeed any too well in concentrating his thoughts on the task.

They would persist in wandering to other matters, leaving him staring blankly at a letter while his wits went the weary round of his perplexities. With reflection came temper, and he rather welcomed the sound of his study door being opened with no preliminary knock. That foreboded more trouble of some sort, and he was in the humor for a fight-- He swung his chair around and started at the sight of his wife in the doorway.

"Well? Come in. What is it?"

She accepted the invitation. She came into the room slowly, but she ignored his gesture toward a chair. She stood looking down at him, her face all the whiter for a touch of vivid color that burned in each cheek, her arms hanging loosely at her sides but her hands clenched in token of restrained emotion. Her voice was calm as ever when she spoke, but pa.s.sion lent it a husky quality that smote ominously on his ear.

"What have you done to--my son?"

"Done to him? Done to him? What d'you mean?" He sputtered. "I haven't _done_ anything to him!"

"You quarreled with him?"

"Call it that if you choose. He forced the issue--though he probably went cry-babying to you with some other version!"

"He doesn't lie. And he told me just what I managed to drag out of him--no more. I got the impression that he was--ashamed of you, that's all."

"Well? I'll live it down, I guess! What do you expect me to do about it?"

"The decent thing, just for once in your life. I want you to go to him, or send for him, and--and make peace."

"You can see me doing it, can't you? Ha!"

"He has left our roof."

"His own choice!"

"You drove him to it."

"That's not so! He's free, white and twenty-one; he can do as he pleases elsewhere, but he'll do as I say while he's in my house!"

"_My_ house, please!"

"We've had that argument before and you've had precious little change out of it! As for Copley--let him rustle his own living or starve until he learns to obey my wishes!"

"You won't consider mine?"

"No!" The word was like a thunderclap.

"Very well." She held herself erect to every inch of her slim height, her steadfast gaze leveled at him from beneath straight brows. "I warn you, Simon, that you are going too far. I don't know if you realize all the brutalities, the ignominies, that I've suffered from you since we were married. Much kinder if you'd beaten me. It hasn't seemed possible to me that you can have realized--! Yours is a very curious nature--I've had to make allowances--often--" Her voice faded into silence.

"_What are you going to do about it?_"