“Why did you meet her openly, and take her to
the train?”
Mr. Howell bent forward and smiled across at the little
man. “One of your own axioms, sir,”
he said. “Do the natural thing; upset the
customary order of events as little as possible.
Jennie Brice went to the train, because that was where
she wanted to go. But as Ladley was to protest
that his wife had left town, and as the police would
be searching for a solitary woman, I went with her.
We went in a leisurely manner. I bought her a
magazine and a morning paper, asked the conductor
to fix her window, and, in general, acted the devoted
husband seeing his wife off on a trip. I even”—he
smiled—“I even promised to feed the
canary.”
Lida took her hands away. “Did you kiss
her good-by?” she demanded.
“Not even a chaste salute,” he said.
His spirits were rising. It was, as often happens,
as if the mere confession removed the guilt. I
have seen little boys who have broken a window show
the same relief after telling about it.
“For a day or two Bronson and I sat back, enjoying
the stir-up. Things turned out as we had expected.
Business boomed at the theater. I got a good
story, and some few kind words from my city editor.
Then—the explosion came. I got a letter
from Jennie Brice saying she was going away, and that
we need not try to find her. I went to Horner,
but I had lost track of her completely. Even
then, we did not believe things so bad as they turned
out to be. We thought she was giving us a bad
time, but that she would show up.
“Ladley was in a blue funk for a time.
Bronson and I went to him. We told him how the
thing had slipped up. We didn’t want to
go to the police and confess if we could help it.
Finally, he agreed to stick it out until she was found,
at a hundred dollars a week. It took all we could
beg, borrow and steal. But now—we have
to come out with the story anyhow.”
Mr. Holcombe sat up and closed his note-book with
a snap. “I’m not so sure of that,”
he said impressively. “I wonder if you realize,
young man, that, having provided a perfect defense
for this man Ladley, you provided him with every possible
inducement to make away with his wife? Secure
in your coming forward at the last minute and confessing
the hoax to save him, was there anything he might not
have dared with impunity?”
“But I tell you I took Jennie Brice out of town
on Monday morning.”
“Did you?” asked Mr. Holcombe sternly.
But at that, the school-teacher, having come home
and found old Isaac sound asleep in her cozy corner,
set up such a screaming for the police that our meeting
broke up. Nor would Mr. Holcombe explain any
further.
Mr. Holcombe was up very early the next morning.
I heard him moving around at five o’clock, and
at six he banged at my door and demanded to know at
what time the neighborhood rose: he had been up
for an hour and there were no signs of life.
He was more cheerful after he had had a cup of coffee,
commented on Lida’s beauty, and said that Howell
was a lucky chap.
