Nothing But the Truth

“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.”