Isham Frederic Stewart
Nothing But the Truth

“Unless – ?” He paused.

“Unless what?” she asked.

“Nothing. Only I was thinking – ”

The violet eyes became suddenly darker. “You mean about what you told me this morning – about Mr. Bennett and how you found him – ?”

“I really didn’t wish to speak of that, only it was strange – ” He stopped.

“Strange, indeed,” she observed, studying him.

“Anyhow, I can’t see how to connect that with this,” he confessed.

“There does seem a missing-link somewhere,” observed the girl. “Do you” – and her eyes were again full upon the deep serious ones – “like Mr. Bennett?”

“I neither like nor dislike him.” They had stopped for a moment in a doorway. “His manners have been rather extraordinary. I honestly can’t make him out. He looks rational enough and yet he acts most irrationally.”

“I am going to tell you a great secret,” said the girl. “Please do not speak of it to any one else. Some one in the house has been taking things – in earnest, I mean.”

“No? Is it possible?” he observed. “Then it wouldn’t have been nice for me if that ring – ?” Honest indignation shone from his eyes. “I must say Miss Dolly did take a confounded liberty.”

“Under the circumstances, yes,” said the girl gravely.

“You say things are missing? Great Scott!”

“I did not say missing.” Quickly. “It is a case of substitution.”

“Pardon me if I fail to understand.”

She explained. “By jove! that is clever. I am honored by your confidence. I won’t betray it. Your aunt is naturally distressed?”

“Naturally – though she appears the same as usual. However, she is determined to put an end to these affairs. Society has been frightfully annoyed. It is not nice to ask some one down and then to have her lose – ”

“I understand,” said the hammer-thrower gravely. “If your aunt can stop these unfortunate occurrences society will owe her a great debt. But tell me further, if I am not intruding too greatly on your confidences, does the finger of suspicion point anywhere?”

“Yes,” returned the girl.

“Of course,” he said, and looked toward Bob.

That young man’s face did not now express any trace of satisfaction or jovial feeling. He looked both puzzled and worried, and glanced apprehensively from time to time at the sentimental young thing. The monocle-man was telling her fortune now. With British persistence he had reverted to the subject upon again approaching the couple, which he did almost immediately after the hammer-thrower returned to Miss Gerald her ring.

“You missed your ring?” said the hammer-thrower after a pause.

“Yes. But I never imagined – ”

“It would be returned in such an extraordinary manner? I don’t see where he – ?” And the hammer-man paused again with downbent brows.

It was not hard for her to read the thought. He did not see just where Bob Bennett “came in.” That’s what he once more implied. He didn’t wish to be unjust to any one. His expression said that.

“I guess it must just have been a whim,” he conceded after a moment, handsomely. “After all, it’s proofs that count.” The sentence had a familiar sound to Miss Gerald who entertained a vague impression she had said something like it to Bob. They approached Dolly.

CHAPTER XXI – HEART OF STONE

“Did he tell you that I – ?” began Miss Dolly at once, and snatching her arm from that tiresome monocle-man.

“Yes, my dear,” said Gwendoline. “And he seemed a little hurt at your sense of humor.”

The temperamental little thing stood like a wild creature at bay, her eyes glowing like those of a fawn about to receive the arrow of a hunter or a huntress. Miss Gerald did not look a very remorseless huntress, however.

“How did he know I did it?” said Dolly with a glance toward the hammer-thrower. “He didn’t catch me at it.” Defiantly.

“Deduction, my dear,” replied Gwendoline.

“He can’t prove it. I defy him.” The jolly little pal felt now how one feels when he or she is haled into a court of justice. She wouldn’t “peach” though. They could put her through the third or the thirty-third degree and she wouldn’t tell on Bob. Never! “You have only his word,” with another glance at the hammer-thrower, “and maybe my word is as good as his.” She had to tell a whopper; but she would tell a million for Bob. It was a pal’s duty to.

“But I saw you do it,” now interposed the monocle-man with a quiet smile.

She almost wilted at that, then threw back her head farther.

“I” – Bob stepped quickly forward – “gave it to her. It was I,” gravely to Miss Gerald, “who had your ring. Think what you please.” She had already passed judgment on him, he remembered.

“Don’t you believe him,” tempestuously interrupted the temperamental little thing. “I took it myself. It – it was just a joke.”

“That’s what Miss Gerald and I were saying just now,” observed the hammer-thrower heavily. He held himself just as if he were a remote, rather puzzled bystander.

Bob gave a hoarse laugh. He couldn’t control himself.

“I beg your pardon,” observed the monocle-man, “but I am afraid Miss Dolly, in her zeal, is rather misleading in her statements. Her vale of friendship, I have noticed, on her palm, is well developed. At the same time I can not let her wrongfully accuse herself, even though the matter should pass as a jest. I have to tell the truth – you must forgive me, Miss Dolly. But I saw Mr. Bennett pass you that ring during the dance.”

“But why should he?” spoke up Miss Gerald. “Can’t you enlighten me, dear?” To the temperamental young thing.

“I won’t say a word,” said the latter at a loss. “Only I’d like to tell you” – to the monocle-man – “how much I like you.”

“I’m sorry to have displeased you,” he answered simply. “You have really a charming hand. As for the reason you ask” – to Miss Gerald – “it should not be difficult to find. I conclude that Mr. Bennett asked Miss Dolly to return the ring to Miss Gerald’s room. I think that was what she was trying to do and I’m afraid I prevented her.”

“But why should Mr. Bennett” – Gwendoline did not deign to address that young man direct – “have asked Dolly to do that?”

“Maybe,” suggested the monocle-man, “Mr. Bennett will answer that himself.”

“What’s the use?” said Bob. “Nobody believes anything I say.” Miss Gwendoline still acted as if she did not see him.

“If you take him to jail, I’m going too,” remarked the temperamental little thing. “If he’s guilty, I – ”

“You suggest, then, he is guilty?” said the monocle-man quickly.

“No; no! I – ”

“I fear you have suggested it,” he interrupted pointedly.

“If people confess do they get lighter sentences?” she asked with a quick breath.

“Usually,” said the monocle-man.

Jolly little pal pondered painfully. Perhaps she saw plainer than Bob how clear was the case against him. “Why don’t you?” she suggested.

Bob smiled feebly. “The answer I make is the same one I gave to Miss Gerald when I last spoke to her.”

A flame sprang to Gwendoline’s cheek.

“You dare say that now – with all this evidence against you?” She showed herself keenly aware of his presence now.

“I dare.” He stepped to her side and looked into her eyes. “My eyes are saying it now.”

The girl’s breast stirred quickly. Did she fear he would say those words aloud, before all the others? He was reckless enough to do so.

“Do you understand or shall I make it plainer?” he asked, swinging back his blond head.

“I do not think that will be necessary,” she answered with some difficulty.

“What is it all about?” said the hammer-man, and there was a slight frown on his brow.

“You ought to know,” returned Bob, as his eyes met swiftly the other’s. For a moment gaze encountered gaze. Bob’s now was sardonically ironical, yet challenging. The hammer-thrower’s was mystified. Then the latter shrugged.

“Is he mad as well as a – ” he spoke musingly.

“Thief,” said Bob. “Say it right out. I’m not afraid of the word.”

The hammer-thrower sighed heavily. “What are we to do?” he said to Miss Gerald sympathetically. “It is needless to say, you can command me.”

“Isn’t that lovely?” Sotto voce from Bob.

“I’m terribly afraid the affair has passed from the joke stage,” said Gwendoline Gerald and once more she appeared cool and composed. Again she made Bob feel he was but a matter for consideration – an intrusive and unwelcome matter that had to be disposed of. “What ought I to do?”

“Arrest me, of course,” returned Bob. “I’ve been waiting for it for some time. And the funny part is, the affair hasn’t passed from the joke stage. You know that.” To the hammer-man. “Why don’t you chuckle?”

“I suppose I may as well tell you I’m a bogus lord,” unexpectedly interrupted the monocle-man at this moment. “My name is not even a high-sounding one.” The hammer-thrower started slightly. “It’s plain Michael Moriarity. But I was once a lord’s valet.” He had dropped his drawl, though he still kept his monocle. “I am sorry to have intruded as a real personage among you all, although there are plenty of bogus lords floating through society.”

“Oh, you didn’t deceive me,” answered jolly little pal. “I knew who you were.”

“Well, you certainly hoodwinked the rest of us,” observed the hammer-thrower slowly. He stood with his head down as if thinking deeply. When he looked up, he gazed straight into the monocle-man’s eyes. They were twinkling and good-humored. An arrest in high society was rather a ceremonious affair. You didn’t take a man by the scruff of the neck and yank him to the patrol wagon. There were polite formalities to be observed. The end had to be accomplished without shocking or disturbing the other guests. The truly artistic method would, in fact, be the attainment of the result while the guests remained in absolute ignorance, for the time being, of what had been done.

“I’m afraid I’ve got to do my duty,” observed the monocle-man to Bob. “You look like a man who would play the game. A game loser, I mean?” Suggestively.

“Oh, I’m a loser all right,” said Bob, looking at the hammer-man. For a moment he wondered if he should speak further. He could imagine how his words would be received. He didn’t forget that he hadn’t a shadow of proof against the hammer-man. Miss Gerald would think he was accusing an innocent person and she would despise him (Bob) only the more – if that were possible. To speak would be but to court the contempt of the others, the laughter of the hammer-man. Bob’s thoughts were terribly confused but he realized he might as well remain silent; indeed, perhaps it would be better for the present.

“Anyhow, what I told you wasn’t so,” said jolly little pal to the monocle-man. “And I repeat I will never testify to it.” She was awfully dejected.

“Yes, you will,” said Bob monotonously. “As I told you, I won’t let you get into trouble.”

“Besides there’s all that other evidence,” suggested the monocle-man.

“I can explain that away,” returned Bob. Then he thought: Could he? Would Dan and Clarence stand by him now and acknowledge it was they he had let out of the house at that unseemly hour? He doubted it. Dickie, too, wouldn’t be very friendly. Their last conversation over the telephone was far from reassuring. “No; I am not sure that I can,” Bob added. He still had to remember he was the impersonation of Truth.

“You refer to Miss Gerald’s having seen you wandering about the house after the others had retired, I presume?” suggested the monocle-man, who was enjoying the conversation immensely. It was the kind of a situation he liked. He wouldn’t have curtailed it for the world. When the hammer-man heard the question, his brows lifted slightly. Surely a momentary glint of gladness or satisfaction shone from his gaze. But it receded at once. He listened attentively.

“Yes, I was referring to that,” answered Bob, gazing at Gwendoline. She, condemn him to a prison cell! She, swear away his liberty! He gazed wistfully, almost sadly at the sweet inexorable lips which might ruin his life. He didn’t feel resentful; he only determined to put up the best fight he could when the time came.

“Is – is it necessary to proceed to extremities?” said the hammer-man at this point sedulously. “Would not the mere fact that we all know about the matter be sufficient punishment?” He appealed to Miss Gerald. “My father used to tell me that when a man was down, if we could see the way to extend a helping hand, we would be doing the right thing. I think the world is becoming more tolerant and there is a tendency to give a person a chance to reform, instead of locking him up.”

Again Bob laughed. In spite of his unhappiness and that weight of melancholy, the other’s heavy humor tickled Bob’s funny bone. Think of the hammer-man pretending to try to keep Bob out of jail! Didn’t he know how to play his cards? The deadly joke was on Bob.

“Don’t appeal too hard in my behalf, old chap; you might strain yourself,” he said to the hammer-thrower.

But the hammer-thrower pretended not to hear. He kept his sedulous, humane glance on Miss Gerald.

“You mean you would have my aunt take no action in the matter?” she said, and the lovely face was now calm and thoughtful.

“Please do!” This from jolly little pal. “Dear, dear Gwendoline! It’ll be such a favor to me. And I’ll love you dearly.”

“You certainly are a very doughty champion of Mr. Bennett, Dolly,” observed Miss Gerald. There was a question in her look and her words might have implied that Bob had been making love to the temperamental little thing, even when he dared tell Miss Gerald he cared for her. Gwendoline’s face wore an odd smile now.

“I’m not interested for the reason you think,” answered the temperamental little thing spiritedly. “He never made love to me – real love. I tried to make him, because he is all that should appeal to any woman, but he wouldn’t,” she went on tempestuously, regardlessly. “And then we vowed we’d be pals and we are. And I’ll stand by him to the last ditch.”

“You are very loyal, dear,” said Gwendoline quietly.

“Besides, he’s in love with some one else,” she shot back, and Bob shifted. There was a directness about jolly little pal that was sometimes disconcerting.

The hammer-man looked quickly toward Miss Gerald, and his eyes were full of jealousy for an instant. He was not sorry that Bob was going to “get his.” Nevertheless, he would plead for him again, he wouldn’t cease to be consistent in his role.

“I’ll tell you who it is, too, if you want to know,” the temperamental little thing went on to Gwendoline.

“My dear, I haven’t asked. It seems to me,” coldly, “we are slightly drifting from the subject.”

“I believe you stated just now that you and Mr. Bennett vowed to be pals,” interposed the monocle-man regarding Miss Dolly. “Does that mean you agreed to be accomplices – to divide the ‘swag,’ in the parlance of the lower world?” The monocle-man was enjoying himself more and more. He was finding new interest in the scene. It was more “meaty” than he had dared hope.

“She doesn’t mean anything of the kind,” put in Bob savagely. “She just extended the hand of friendship. She’s a good fellow, that is all, and I won’t have you imply the slightest thing against her. You understand that, Mr. Bogus Lord?”

“I only asked a question,” observed the monocle-man humbly.

“Well, you’ve got the answer.” In the same aggressive manner. “She’s a – a brick and I won’t have any harm come to her on my account.”

“None of us would have any harm come to Dolly,” said Gwendoline coldly.

“I wanted him to elope with me, but he wouldn’t,” went on the temperamental little thing, thinking fast. Bob listened in despair. “I didn’t know then it was only friendship I felt. I thought it was love. And when he refused, I was furious. To be revenged, I went to that horrid man” – looking at him of the monocle – “and told him a pack of lies.”

“Lies?” said the monocle-man, smiling sweetly and screwing his glass in farther.

“Yes, and that’s the reason I shall give on the witness-stand.” Defiantly. “I’ll tell the truth there – let every one know how horrid and wicked I was.”

The monocle-man shook his head with mild disapproval. “What do you say to that, Mr. Bennett?” he asked softly.

“Of course I can’t let her do anything to incriminate herself,” answered Bob mournfully. “To prevent her doing so I shall have to avow right now – ? and I do” – firmly – “that those were not lies, but truths she told you.”

“Please! – please! – ” said jolly little pal piteously.

“Truths!” said Bob again boldly.

Miss Dolly gave a great sigh. “Are you going to confess you are guilty of all they charge?”

“I am not.” Stubbornly. “I am not guilty.”

“I’m rather afraid certain evidence, including Miss Dolly’s truths, which you acknowledge as such, might tend to show you are,” suggested the monocle-man.

Again Miss Dolly thought fast. Bob wouldn’t let her declare her accusations of him lies; therefore only one alternative remained.

“I have a confession to make,” she said solemnly.

Bob looked startled. “Don’t! – ” he began. He wondered into what new realm her inventive faculties would lead her.

“Mr. Bennett,” observed the monocle-man gravely, “I have to remind you that anything you say can be used against you. And your manner now, in seeking to restrain or interfere with what Miss Dolly has to say, will certainly hurt your case.”

Bob groaned. He cast hunted eyes upon Miss Dolly. The jolly little pal breathed hard, but there was a look of determination in the dark soulful eyes.

“Mr. Mike Something, or whatever your name is,” she said to the monocle-man in a low tense tone, “I am all that which you suggested.”

He overlooked the scornful mode of address. He rubbed his hands softly; his eyes were pleased. “You mean about agreeing to be accomplices and to divide the ‘swag’?”

“Yes.” Fatalistically.

Bob groaned again.

The temperamental little thing looked up in the air. She would be mainly responsible for sending Bob to jail – the thought burned. What was a treacherous but repentant pal’s duty under the circumstances? She had a vision, too, of those adjoining cells.

“You see,” she began dreamily, “my father is rather sparing of the spending money he allows me, and I have terribly extravagant tastes. Why, my hats alone cost a fortune. I simply have got to have nice and expensive things.” Again Bob groaned. Dolly dreamed on: “I’ve bushel-baskets of silk stockings, for example. See!” Displaying an exquisite ankle. “My gowns all come from Paris. Gwendoline can tell you that.” Miss Gerald did not deny. “And they’re not gowns from those side-street dressmakers, either. They come from the places on the rue de la Paix. Besides” – Dolly’s dream expanded – “I like to take things.” Another groan from Bob. “I think I’m a clepto.”

“There isn’t one word of truth in what she’s saying,” exclaimed Bob indignantly. “Why, it’s outrageous. She doesn’t realize what she’s doing.”

“Yes, I do,” returned little pal with a stanch and loyal glance. “Why should you take all the blame when I’m entitled to half of it?”

“You aren’t entitled to any of it,” he retorted helplessly. “And there isn’t any blame for you to share, either.”

“Do you expect us to believe that?” observed the monocle-man reproachfully.

“No, I don’t.”

“Or a jury?”

“Perhaps not.”

“Really, old chap” – began the hammer-man sedulously, and he looked awfully sorry. Perhaps he was going to extend his sympathy.

“Say it in Latin!” interrupted Bob ungratefully.

“What does he mean?” queried the monocle-man.

“I’m really at a loss,” answered the hammer-thrower.

That gentleman had gleaned a great deal of information of a most gratifying nature. He didn’t know all the whys and wherefores, but it was sufficient that Bob seemed too deep in the toils to extricate himself. A happy (to the hammer-man) combination of circumstances had involved the other.

“Please let him go,” again pleaded Miss Dolly to Gwendoline. “Be a dear. Besides, think how he – ” She went over to Miss Gerald suddenly and whispered two words – two ardent electrical words!

Gwendoline’s eyes flashed but she did not answer. One of the hammer-thrower’s hands closed.

“I fear Miss Gerald couldn’t do that now, if she wanted to,” interposed the monocle-man. “It isn’t altogether her affair or her aunt’s. You see, there are other people who gave those other social functions Mr. Bennett attended. They may not incline to be sentimentally – I may say foolishly lenient. So you see even if I desired to oblige a lady” – bowing to Dolly “whom I esteem very much, my hands are tied. Justice, in other words, must take its course.”

Bob looked at Gwendoline. “Some day, Miss Gerald, you may realize you helped, or tried to help, convict an innocent man.”

“She doesn’t care,” said the temperamental little thing vehemently. “She’s got a stone for a heart.” Only that cryptic smile on the proud beautiful lips answered this outbreak. The jolly little pal went right over to her again. “Anyhow,” she said, “he kissed me.”

Just for an instant Miss Gerald’s sweeping lashes lifted to Bob. Just for an instant, too, Miss Gerald’s white teeth buried themselves in that proud red upper lip. Miss Dolly turned to the monocle-man. “Now, I’m ready to go with you,” she said.

“Oh, I don’t want you” – then he added “yet! You will appreciate, Mr. Bennett” – turning to Bob – “that the more quietly – I want to show you all the consideration possible – ”

“I’ll go quietly,” muttered Bob. “No use raising a row! I’ll go like a gentleman. I’ll make myself as little obnoxious and objectionable to the rest of Mrs. Ralston’s guests as possible.” Bitterly. “Good-by, Miss Gerald.” That young lady didn’t answer. “Won’t you say good-by?” repeated Bob. There was a gleam of great pleasure in the hammer-thrower’s eyes now. Bob had involuntarily put out his hand but Miss Gerald would not see it. Indeed, she turned farther from him, as if annoyed by Bob’s persistence. Bob’s hand fell to his side, he drew himself up.

“I am ready, sir,” he said quietly to the monocle-man.

“Perhaps it would be as well if you accompanied us,” observed the monocle-man to the hammer-thrower.

“Certainly.” The other understood. Bob was strong and he might change his mind and be less lamblike before reaching his destination. “It’s a disagreeable job at best,” murmured the hammer-thrower, “but I suppose I ought to see it through.”

“It’s nice of you,” said Miss Gerald in a low dull tone.

A moment Bob’s eyes gleamed dangerously, then he seemed to realize the presence of Miss Gerald’s other guests once more and his handsome blond head dropped. “I guess it’s your turn,” he said to the hammer-man.

Miss Dolly looked at the composed proud girl with the “heart of stone.” The temperamental little thing’s hands were tightly closed. Suddenly once more she bent over to whisper – this time viciously – to Miss Gerald. “He kisses beautifully,” she breathed. “And – and I hate you!” Miss Gerald did not answer; nor did she turn to regard Bob who quietly moved away now with the monocle-man and the hammer-thrower.