"I did not know that I seldom read the papers, and have not looked at one lately.I had not heard that he was ill.""`He wasn't, Colonel Ashley.Mr.Carwell died very suddenly on the Maraposa Golf Club links, after making a stroke that gave him the championship.""Heart disease or apoplexy ?" "Neither one.It was poison." "You amaze me, Mr.- er - Mr.- ""Bartlett.Yes, Mr.Carwell died of poison, asthe autopsy showed." "`Was he - did he - ""That is what we want to find out," interrupted the messenger eagerly."The county physician says Mr.Carwell is a suicide.His daughter, Miss Viola, can not believe it.Nor can I.There has been some talk that his affairs are involved.As you may have known, he was somewhat of a - ""His sporting proclivities were somewhat different from mine," said the old detective dryly."You needn't explain.Every man must live his own life.But tell me more."Thereupon Bartlett gave the details as he knew them, bearing on the death of the father of the girl he loved.
"And she sent you to find me?" asked the detective.
"Yes.Miss Viola said you were an old friend of her father's, and if any one could solve the mystery of his death you could.For that there is a mystery about it, many of us believe.""There may be.Poison is always more or less of a mystery.But just what do you want me to do?""Come back with me if you will, Colonel Ashley.Miss Carwell wants you to aid her - aid all of us, for we are all at sea.Will you? She sent me to plead with you.I went to your New York office, and fromSpotty Morgan learned you were here.I - ""I suppose I shall have to forgive Spotty," murmured the fisherman."They told me at the hotel you had come here," went on Bartlett, "so Ifollowed.I was lucky in finding you."
"I don't know about that," murmured the colonel, smiling."It may be unfortunate.Well, I am deeply shocked at my old friend's death - and such a tragic taking off.Horace Carwell was my very good friend.He once did me a great service, when I needed money badly, by helping me make an investment in copper that turned out extremely well.I feel myself under obligations to him; and, since he is no more, I must transfer that obligation to his daughter.""Then you'll come with me to see her, Colonel Ashley?" "Yes.Shag, pack up!We're going back to civilization."The colored man's face was a study.He looked at the quiet stream, at the drooping willows, at the fish rod in his master's hand, and at the creel.He opened his mouth and spoke:
"But, Colonel, yo' done tole me t' - "
"No matter what I told you, Shag, these are new orders.Pack up!" came the crisp command."We're going back to town.I'll do what I can in this case," he went on to Bartlett."I came here for some quiet fishing, and to get my mind off detective work.I was dragged into a diamond cross mystery not long since, sorely against my will, and now - ""I am sorry - " began Bartlett.
"Oh, well, it can't be helped," the colonel said."I'd give up more than a fishing trip for a daughter of Horace Carwell.You may let her know that I'll come, if it will give her any comfort.Though, mind you," the colonel's manner was impressive, "I promise nothing.""That is understood," said Bartlett eagerly."I'll wire her that you are coming.There's a train that leaves right after supper.We can get that - ""I'll take it !" decided the colonel.Now that he had given up his cherished fishing he was all business again."Shag!" "Yes, sah, Colonel!""Pack up for the evening train.Give that fish to the cook and have it served for Mr.Bartlett and myself.You'll dine with me," he went on.Itwas an order, not an invitation, but Bartlett understood, and accepted with a bow.
A few hours later he and the colonel left the little town where the detective had gone for such a short vacation, and were on their way to Lakeside, which they reached early in the morning.
"Now if you'll tell me the best hotel to stop at here," said the colonel, as they alighted from the train, "I'll put up there and see Miss Carwell "She requested me to bring you at once to her home," said Bartlett."You are to be her guest.She thought perhaps you would want to examine the- to see Mr.Carwell's body - before - "
"Oh, yes.I suppose I had better.Then the funeral has not been held?" "No, it was postponed at the request of the county physician.""Has there been a coroner's inquest?"
"No.None was deemed necessary at the time I left, at the solicitation of Miss Carwell, to get you.""I see.Inquests are less often held in New Jersey than in some of the other states.Well, then I suppose I may as well go to the Carwell home with you.""Yes.I wired for my car to meet us.It's here I see.Right over here."Bartlett led the way, the colonel following, and Shag bringing up the rear with the bags.
As the machine started from the station Bartlett looked up to the morning sky.There was a little speck in it, no larger than a man's hand.It grew larger, and became an osprey on its way to the sea in search of a fish.
As the car drew up in front of the Carwell mansion, from the bell of which fluttered a dismal length of crepe, a man stepped from the shadow of the gate posts and held out a paper to Harry Bartlett.
"What is it?" asked Bartlett.
"A subpoena," was the rather gruff answer."A subpoena? What for?""The coroner's inquest.You'll have to appear and give evidence.They're going to have an inquest to find out more about Mr.Carwell'sdeath.That's all I know.I'm from police headquarters.I was told to wait around here, as you were expected, and to serve that on you.Don't forget to be there.It's a court order," and the man slunk away.
"An inquest," murmured Bartlett, as he looked at the paper in his hand."I thought they weren't going to have any," and he glanced quickly at Colonel Ashley.
