Nothing But the Truth

In spite of the thrill of the moment, the hammer-thrower couldn’t prevent an expression of honest approval gleaming from his eyes. “You are very kind,” he said in a low tone. “You will never know all this visit has meant to me. I, too, regret exceedingly that what you regard as one of Miss Dolly’s mad pranks – and we all know how prone she is to do the unconventional – should have involved me in a little episode that, perhaps, isn’t so agreeable as it should be. I trust, though, you don’t blame me for coming to you at once about the matter?”

“Why should I blame you?” The violet eyes full on the deep serious ones.

“I suppose I might just have placed it somewhere, on the mantle, for example, and not said anything about Miss Dolly’s part in the affair,” he observed musingly. “It might have been more chivalrous. One doesn’t like to complain of a woman, you know, and a fellow guest at that.” With regret that sounded genuine.

“I think you took the only course a conscientious man could,” said Gwendoline Gerald. “Indeed, I can appreciate your position. You did what any honest man would feel impelled to do.”

Again that gracious smile! Again a slight gleaming in the hammer-man’s eyes! At the moment she seemed to realize in every way the poet’s picture of regal young womanhood – “divinely tall” and most divinely fashioned, she appeared, as she stood with the light from a great chandelier full upon her.

“Your approval is very dear to me,” the hammer-thrower murmured. “I think I have your friendship. That is much – much, indeed. But – ” For a moment he seemed about to say more. His strong, honest-looking face surely wore an expression of some feeling deeper than friendship.

Would Gwendoline Gerald have shrunk from a verbal expression of what his look seemed to imply? The violet eyes never appeared deeper, more enigmatic – receptive. The hammer-thrower did not go on, however. He reverted to that other topic.

“Perhaps it would be as well to drop the matter altogether,” he remarked. “I am quite satisfied to do so, if you are.”

“That is nice of you,” she said in a tone that implied she still approved of him. “But I think I shall speak to Dolly. Or, at least, let her see the ring is on my finger.”

“I can’t understand why she should have done it,” he observed in puzzled accents as they crossed the room. “I can’t quite see how it can be classed as a joke.”

“Dolly has the wildest idea of humor,” returned Gwendoline. “As a little girl she was always doing the maddest things. Perhaps, too, she has been reading about those sensational robberies and wished to perpetrate a hoax.”

“I say, that would have been rather rough on a fellow, wouldn’t it?”

“And then, after creating a little excitement, she would have come forward and said she did it. Maybe she read about that escapade of young men and girls at an English house-party. They carried off valuables in an automobile, and returned the same, piece-meal, by parcel post. I don’t say my explanation of Dolly’s prank is a correct one,” said Miss Gerald, tentatively lifting long sweeping lashes to regard her companion, “but it may in some measure throw light upon it.”

“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.”