AN ARREST
It was a if not a Jerry Boyne who the of the Vandeman that in the wake of Worth Gilbert, for an dinner. The tall, who ahead of me had been safe in of himself. This weight off my mind, I to the whole world, to the man under table we were to our legs, private I had uncovered. He'd taken it well—seconding his wife's dinner invitation, meeting my we encountered. My mood was expansive. When Vandeman himself opened the door to us, that he was his own for the day, I saw him other than he had appeared to me.
For one thing, here in his own house—and this was the time I had been in it—you got the man with his proper background, his atmosphere. The room into which he took us, many old pieces of mahogany, and some of the I saw; books in cases, sets of writers, such as people of thirty or years ago, some family pictures about. This was Vandeman; a such a fellow, after all, if he did a lightweight.
Ina joined us, very dressed. She also the ability to in the present moment of hospitality. We a moment chatting, then,
"Shall we go and look at the working?" she suggested, and the way. We out onto a at the rear. A dozen great were over the there, and two small figures, desperate, smudged, the Skeet Thornhill had at us, the colors on in and designs.
"Ina!" Skeet at her sister, "Another dirty, low Irish trick! Get all up like a thumb, and then us off in this fix!"
Mutely Barbara on the box she occupied. There was fire in her soft eyes; her color was high as her came to on Worth.
"Fong Ling's nearly to dinner," said Ina calmly. "Stop fussing, and go wash up."
"Hello, Mr. Boyne." As Skeet passed me, she a on a paint and offered it to me without another word. I got a and a look that told me there was no hang-over with her from that yesterday in her mother's sick-room. Vandeman was on his clumps.
"Mine than yours, Worth. Fong Ling like a about our taking so much. He's nursed the for years like a mother. But we had to have it for that up around the stand."
"Then he's been with you a long time?" I at the for on this chink—information that I'd it to from the himself.
"Ever since I came in here. Chinamen, you know—not like Japs. Some loyalty. You can keep a good one for a lifetime."
We to the room; the girls were there us, Skeet out of plum-blossoms and of from a great bowl on the mantel, and them in Barbara's dark hair, fashion.
"Best we do at a splurge," she us, "was to turn in our at the neck."
"And what in the world are you doing to Barbara?" Mrs. Vandeman said sharply. "Let her alone, Skeet. You'll make her look ridiculous."
Skeet out her at her sister, and on, as she worked,
"Hold 'till 'ittle Barbie child. Yook up at and 'till."
Over the mantel, in of Barbara as she stood, her to us all, an oil painting—one of those family groups—same old popper; same old mommer, and a in a white dress and sash. At that, it was good to that the man had some to Vandeman as he there on the it, Skeet's enterprise. From the other side, I see Barbara's go from man to picture.
"Doesn't it look like Van, Barbie?" Skeet up the conversation. "Got the same ring, and all. But it ain't Van. Him's the in there with the his tummy."
"I say, Skeeter, off!" Vandeman looked self-consciously from the painted ring in the picture to the ring on his own well hand there on the edge. "People aren't in family histories."
"I am," said Barbara, unexpectedly. As the and we all to move toward the room, they were still on the and it up after we were seated.
Fong Ling us. The had Worth on her right, and talked to him in tones. Barbara, Vandeman and myself, to an almost attention to Vandeman. It was plain from where I sat that nothing Ina Vandeman say gave the any less in his plate. But I with a girl, the of some other girl being allowed to counts. Did the what was going on, as she looked proudly across at her handiwork, and of me,
"Say, Mr. Boyne, you saw how Ina to do us dirt? And now, to goodness, hasn't Barbie with the plum-blossoms got Ina and her flowers a mile?"
I didn't wonder that Mrs. Vandeman saved me the of answering, by taking her up.
"Skeet, you're too outrageous!"
There she sat, a in a very fashion; and Worth at her side, was having his attention called to this dark across the table, still fire, the white her hair, might well have a than Ina Vandeman look insipid. And Worth did take his time her; I saw that; but all he to say was,
"Bobs, I Jerry's told you that he's Clayte at Tiajuana?"
"No," said Barbara, "he hasn't said a word. But I'm just as much at Clayte's being as I was at Skeels capture."
"Say that over and say it slow," Vandeman was good natured. "Or rather, put it in plain American, so we all can understand."
"Mr. Boyne what I mean." Barbara gave me a smile. "Mr. Boyne and I add up Skeels and Clayte, and a different result. That's all."
"Bobs doesn't think that Skeels is Clayte, or uncaught," Worth said and on his dinner. Apparently he didn't give a which way the out to be.
"Why don't you?" Vandeman gave attention. She her and put it.
"Skeels, at liberty, was possibly Clayte; Skeels cannot be Clayte. Mr. Boyne, do you call that a paradox?"
"No—an at a old man's ability in his profession. I started out to a gang; but Clayte and Skeels are so one, mentally, and physically, that I don't see why we should further."
"Back up, Jerry," Worth it over at me. "Let Barbara"—he didn't often use the girl's full name that way—"give you a of Clayte you're so sure."
"How I?" The girl's was defensive. "I saw him."
"I want you," Worth paid no attention to her objections, "to the man you you were for that day at the Gold Nugget, when Jerry in, and your ideas got in the about Skeels. Deduce the description, I mean."
"Deduce it?" Barbara spoke stiffly, incredulously, her going from Worth to the well-gowned, well-groomed woman him. I her moment of yesterday on the lawn, when she said so that if he asked it again, she'd do it again, as she finished, "Deduce—here?"
"Here and now." Worth's answer sent the blood of healthy anger into her face, her shine. And it from Ina Vandeman a petulant,
"Oh, Worth, don't turn my dinner table into a side-show."
"Ina, dear." Vandeman his at her, then the a guest to talent, "They say you're at that of thing, and I've it."
Barbara was for fair.
"Oh, very well," she spoke to Vandeman, and left Worth out of it. "If you think you'd me make a side-show of Ina's dinner table—"
She stopped and waited. Vandeman played up to the as he saw it, with one of his smiles. Worth no life-line. Ina didn't think it while to for her rudeness. Skeet was openly in a of anticipation. There was nothing for me to do. A little of skirts told us that she was up her to cross-legged in her chair.
"She's going to! Oh, golly!" Skeet chortled. "Haven't Bobsy do one of those since I was a che-ild!"
Arms down, hands clasped, bigger, into snow, we her. To all but Vandeman, this was a more or less familiar performance. They took it as a of course. It was the Chinaman, in with the coffee tray, who most by it. He stopped where he was in the doorway, rigid, at our girl, though with a light in his that to me to shift an and an fear. Orientals are superstitious; but what the be of in the thing, Buddha posed, in her hair? The girl had gone into her with a of angry energy. He to himself to for the time that it held. Only in the moment that she relaxed, and we that Barbara had concentrated, Barbara was Barbara again, did he move forward, a decent, servant, around the table, our cups.
"Just two to go on," she said coldly. "My results will be general."
"Nothing to go on in the way of a of Clayte," I to help her out. "I'd call that one we had of him as near nothing as it well be."
"Yes, the of it was one of my facts," she said, and stopped.
"Let's what you did get, Bobs," Worth prompted; and Skeet giggled, under her breath,
"Speech! Speech!"
"At the Gold Nugget—whatever he called himself there—Edward Clayte was ten years than he had at the bank; he appeared to a dozen more; out his chest, walked with his up, and therefore would have been a taller. This was an opposite of the other. Bank Clayte was demure, unobtrusive; this man loud patterns. The bank was silent; this man talked to every one around him, his over one eye, just as those men were doing that day in the lobby; like them, was one of them. In the Gold Nugget, Clayte was a very Gold Nugget guest—don't you see? Commonplace there, just as the other Clayte had been in a bank or an office."
Her voice ceased. On the it left, Worth spoke up quietly.
"Bull's as usual, Bobs. Every word you say is true. And at the Gold Nugget, his name was Henry J. Brundage. He had room thirty on the top floor."
Skeet her hands, jumped up and came around the table to Barbara on the ear, and tell her she was the most girl in the world.
"Heh!" I at Worth. "Find that all out to-day in San Francisco?"
"No."
"Oh, it was the Brundage that took you south?"
"Yep. Left Louie on the job at the hotel while I was away. To-day, I after Brundage's automobile. Found he'd one in a on Jackson Street."
"It's gone, of course—and no trace," Barbara murmured.
"Gone since the day of the bank theft," Worth nodded. "He and the money in it."
"Say," I over toward him, "wouldn't it have saved wear and tear if you'd told me at the that you Skeels couldn't be Clayte?"
"Oh, but, Jerry, you were so sure! And Skeels wasn't possible for a minute—never in his little, piking, tin-horn life!"
I don't I had Worth so happy since he was a boy, playing detective. I around and myself up; we weren't making ourselves very for the Vandemans. There they sat, at their own table, like figureheads, politely, a interest.
"All this must be a to you people," I apologized.
"Not at all—not at all," Vandeman us.
"Well then if you don't mind—Worth, I'll go and use Vandeman's phone—put my office wise to these Brundage of yours."
Worth nodded. No social were his. I had by no means up the that Skeels in at Tiajuana, would still turn out to be one of the gang.
I had just got to the table from my when the rang; we saw the big Chinese through the into the to answer it, a moment later, announcing in his weighty, English,
"Two calling—to see Captain Gilbert."
"Ask for me?" Worth came to his in surprise. "Who told them I was here?"
"I do not know," the Chinaman spoke as Worth was to the door. "I did not ask them that."
"Use the room, Worth," Vandeman called after him. "We'll wait here."
With the of the door, languished. Even Skeet was and depressed. My ears were for any from in there. As I sat, hand at my side, I under of the tablecloth, cold, into mine. Barbara wasn't looking at me, but I gave her a quick as I pressed her small hand encouragingly.
She was toward Vandeman. Pale to the lips, her great on the of our host, I saw with wonder how he slowly a spoon about in his coffee cup, and at her with a almost as as her own. The from one to the other of them, and spoke sharply,
"What's the with you two? You're not about Worth's callers, are you?"
"No-no-no—" Vandeman was the to come out of it, to her voice a good as if she cold water in his face, his away from Barbara's, his in a smile. He ran a hand through his hair—an for him at table—and laughed a little.
"We ought to be in there," Barbara said to me, a in her voice.
"How you talk, Barbie," Skeet quavered. "What do you think's wrong?" And Ina spoke decidedly,
"Worth is one person in the world who can take of himself, and would be let alone."
"If you think there is anything we should do—?" Vandeman anxiously, and Skeet took a look around at our and wailed,
"What is it? What's the matter? What do you think they're doing to Worth in there, Barbie?"
"I'd think they were him," Barbara said in a low, tone, "Only they don't know—"
"Arresting him!" I in on her, startled, to my feet; then as came to me, with, "Certainly not. The of Thomas Gilbert is already in the jail. I Eddie Hughes this morning."
"You arrested—Eddie Hughes!" It was a from Barbara. The cold little hand was from mine. Twisting around in her chair, she at me with a look that me cold. "Then you've moved those two for Cummings."
I jumped to my feet. On the the door opened, and in it Worth, enough, but his was bleached.
"Jerry," he spoke briefly. "I want you. The sheriff's come for me."
