The Mystery of the Hidden Room Part 9

"Where did you find it, Jones?" asked the coroner.

"In one corner of the top shelf. I only discovered it because as I pa.s.sed my hand over the shelf the broken p.r.o.ng scratched me," replied Jones.

The coroner nodded. "A thin bit of gold not worth considering," he said, adding as the lawyer was about to return to his seat: "Mr. Cunningham, do you know Mr. Darwin's nephew?"

"Yes, I have met him several times," responded the lawyer.

"Was there not a will in his favor before the wedding?"

"Yes, but it was destroyed when the new will was made."

"Did Mr. Darwin mention to you recently that he intended changing his will?"

"No."

"Have you ever heard of Cora Manning?"

"No."

"Yet Mr. Darwin had written her name on the will he was making at the time he was shot, Mr. Cunningham."

"Indeed? This is all news to me, sir. My client, as perhaps you have heard, was exceedingly peculiar. He did not confide all his affairs to me. In fact, he often employed more than one lawyer."

The coroner raised his brows. "Well, he certainly was peculiar if he did that. One lawyer ought to be enough for any sane man."

"Quite right," responded Mr. Cunningham with an odd smile. "But perhaps my client wasn't quite sane."

CHAPTER VIII

LEE DARWIN

The coroner's retort, if he made one, was lost to me, for at this moment loud voices were heard in the hall and a burly policeman came hurriedly into the room.

"What is it, Riley?" asked the coroner in an annoyed tone.

"Beggin' yer pardon, sorr, but there's a young man out here and a divil of a strong young man he is, yer honor," said the policeman.

"What does he want?"

"Shure an' he says he's Lee Darwin, but Oi'm on to their little tricks.

An' shure by the looks of him I'd say he was one of thim fresh cub reporters that worries the life out of us huntin' for noos."

"Reporter be hanged!" exclaimed a wrathful voice, as a young man strode into the room.

Here the details of the scene before him, the frowning coroner, the amazed jury, the dignified lawyer, sank into his consciousness and he stopped abruptly a few feet from the table.

"What is the meaning of all this?" he inquired, but in a more subdued tone. "Mr. Cunningham, what are all these people doing here?"

Before the lawyer could answer him, he cried out suddenly, "My uncle!

What has happened to him!"

"Mr. Darwin was shot last night," answered the coroner.

"Shot? You--you mean murdered?" in a horrified whisper.

The coroner nodded, then said briskly: "I am glad you are here. There are several questions I should like to ask you."

"I am at your service."

The defiant lift of the head as he spoke, and the fiery look he cast around the room as if challenging us to contradict him, were so like the actions of a creature at bay that I examined him more attentively. He was a tall, broad-shouldered, dark, young man, with a pair of snapping black eyes that roamed restlessly about the room during his entire examination. It was evident that he was laboring under some strong emotion, for much as he controlled his voice and strove to appear calm the muscles of his face betrayed him by their involuntary twitching, and his hands were clenched convulsively at his sides.

"You had a misunderstanding with your uncle yesterday morning. Is my information correct?"

No answer, only a savage look in Orton's direction, as though he divined the source of the coroner's knowledge of his affairs.

"I should like an answer, if you please," with some asperity.

The young man laughed harshly. "I'd call it a quarrel," he said.

"A quarrel, eh? What was the subject of this quarrel?"

A slight pause while he mentally debated the wisdom of replying, then with a sudden abandonment of his former brief manner, he said quickly: "I objected to the way my uncle treated his wife. He took umbrage at what he called my impertinence and told me to clear out. I did. It was none too congenial here."

"What do you mean by that last statement?"

"My uncle was always at dagger's points with his father-in-law."

"For what reason?"

"I do not know. I fancy, though, that it was something pretty strong that my uncle held over Mr. Trenton. I have heard him say things that had I been Mr. Trenton, instead of listening meekly, I'd have jumped up and knocked him down."

"What was Mr. Trenton's att.i.tude toward your uncle?"

"He was always very pleasant to him, and never seemed to take offense at what my uncle said."

The coroner made a note on one of his many papers and then resumed his questions. "What brought you back this morning if you had left the house for good?"

"I came to get the rest of my belongings. I left rather suddenly yesterday."

"When did you last see your uncle?"

"In this study when I quarreled with him yesterday morning."

"Did you notice whether he was wearing a ring on the little finger of his left hand?"