THE FACE AT THE WINDOW
Harry Kent rang the doorbell at the McIntyre residence for the fifth time, and wondered what had become of the faithful Grimes; the butler was usually the soul of promptness, and to keep a caller waiting on the doorstep would, in his category, rank as the height of impropriety.As Kent again raised his hand toward the bell, the door swung open suddenly and Barbara beckoned to him to come inside.
"The bell is out of order," she explained."I saw you from the window.Hurry, and Grimes won't know that you are here," and she darted ahead of him into the reception room.Kent followed more slowly; he was hurt that she had had no other greeting for him.
"Babs, aren't you glad to see me?" he asked wistfully.
For an instant her eyes were lighted by her old sunny smile.
"You know I am," she whispered softly.As his arms closed around her and their lips met in a tender kiss she added fervently, "Oh, Harry, why didn't you make me marry you in the happy bygone days?""I asked you often enough," he declared.
"Will you go with me to Rockville at once?" Her face changed and she drew back from him."No," she said."It is selfish of me to think of my own happiness now.""How about mine?" demanded Kent with warmth."If you won't consider yourself, consider me.""I do." She looked out of the window to conceal sudden blinding tears.There was a hint of hidden tragedy in her lovely face which went to Kent's heart.
"Sweetheart," his voice was very tender, "is there nothing I can do for you?""Nothing," she shook her head drearily."This family must 'dree its weir.'
Kent studied her in silence; that she was in deadly earnest he recognized, she was no hysterical fool or given to sentimental twaddle.
"You came to me on Wednesday to ask my aid in solving Jimmie Turnbull's death," he said."I have learned certain facts -"Barbara sprang to her feet."Wait," she cautioned."Let me close the door.Now, go on -" with her customary impetuosity she reseated herself.
"Before I do so, I must tell you, Babs, that I recognized the fraud you and Helen perpetrated at the coroner's inquest yesterday afternoon.""Fraud?"
"Yes," quietly."I am aware that you impersonated Helen on the witness stand and vice versa.You took a frightful risk.""I don't see why," she protested."In my testimony I told nothing but the truth.""I never doubted you told the truth regarding the events of Monday night as you saw them, but the coroner's questions were put to you under the impression that you were Helen." Kent scrutinized her keenly."Would Helen have been able to give the same answers that you did without perjuring herself?"Barbara started and her face paled."Are you insinuating that Helen killed Jimmie?" she cried.
"No," his emphatic denial was prompt."But I do believe that she knows more of what transpired Monday night than she is willing to admit.Is that not so, Barbara?""Yes," she acknowledged reluctantly.
"Does she know who poisoned Jimmie?"
"No - no!" Barbara rested a firm hand on his shoulder."I swear Helen does not know.You must believe me, Harry.""She may not know," Kent spoke slowly."But are you sure she does not suspect some one?""Well, what if I do?" asked Helen quietly, and Kent, looking around, found her standing just inside the door.Her entrance had been noiseless.
"You should tell the authorities, Helen." Kent rose as she passed him and selected a seat which brought her face somewhat in shadow.
"If you do not you may retard justice."
"But if I speak I may involve the innocent," she retorted."I -"her eyes shifted from him to Barbara and back again."I cannot undertake that responsibility.""Better that than let the guilty escape through your silence,"protested Kent."Possibly the theories of the police may coincide with yours.
"What are they?" asked Barbara impetuously.
Kent considered before replying.If Detective Ferguson had gone so far as to secure a search warrant to go through Rochester's apartment and office it would not be long before the fact of his being a "suspect" would be common property; there could, therefore, be no harm in his repeating Ferguson's conversation to the twins.
In fact, as their legal representative, they were entitled to know the latest developments from him.
"Detective Ferguson believes that the poison was administered by Philip Rochester," he said finally, and watched to see how the announcement would affect them.Barbara's eyes opened to their widest extent, and back in her corner, into which she had gradually edged her chair, Helen emitted a long, long breath as her taut muscles relaxed.
"What makes Ferguson think Philip guilty?" demanded Barbara.
"It is known that he and Jimmie were not on good terms," replied Kent."Then Rochester's disappearance after Jimmie's death lends color to the theory.""Has Philip really disappeared?" asked Helen."You showed me a telegram -""Apparently the telegram was a fake," admitted Kent."The Cleveland police report that he is not at the address given in the telegram.""But who could have an object in sending such a telegram?" asked Barbara slowly.
"Rochester, in the hope of throwing the police off his track, if he really killed Jimmie." Kent looked straight at Helen."It was while searching our office safe for trace of Rochester's present address that Ferguson obtained possession of your sealed envelope."Helen plucked nervously at the ribbon on her gown."Did the detective open the envelope" she asked.
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive; the red seal was unbroken."
"Tell us how the envelope came to be stolen from you," coaxed Barbara.
