The Daring Twins

“I’d like you to hurry, if you please. And if I’m not here when you return, come to the graveyard.”

“The graveyard!”

“She’ll want to put away the money that Miss Phœbe gave her to-day, you know.”

“Of course, Toby. I’ll hurry.”

He turned and walked swiftly away, while the clerk went back to his post of observation. A candle was burning in one of the upper rooms and it dimly lighted the form of Jonathan Eliot, seated beside his favorite window. Now and then Miss Halliday passed one of the windows. She had on a shawl and bonnet.

The judge was prompt. He encountered the constable just coming home from town, and immediately dragged him away, explaining the case as they walked.

Sam Parsons was a man of few words and he knew Judge Ferguson. He asked no questions, understanding he was merely to arrest old Miss Halliday if she tried to get away. The judge knew the reason for this action, and that was all that was necessary, for the time being.

Toby met them and posted them beside the path Elaine must take to get to the tomb. From their cover they gazed curiously at the muffled form of old Jonathan Eliot; but the examination was brief, for suddenly the light went out.

“She’s coming!” whispered Toby. “I’ll follow her first, and then you must follow me at a safe distance.”

“Why not arrest her now?” asked the lawyer.

“Oh, no – not now, sir!” protested Toby in an eager voice. “Wait, sir; wait.”

He could say no more, for they discerned Elaine’s angular form coming down the stairway. In one hand she carried an old-fashioned satchel. Under the other arm was the package of money which Phœbe had returned to her.

Pausing at the foot of the stairs the woman cast penetrating glances in every direction. Then, evidently reassured, she stealthily traversed the back yard and passed through the gate into the lane. It was quite dark under the shadow of the trees, and Elaine had no suspicion that three silent watchers stood almost within arm’s reach as she hurried along the well-known path. Presently Toby Clark glided away in her wake, and before his dim form became wholly invisible the constable and the lawyer started after him.

Thus the extraordinary procession advanced to the very borders of the graveyard. Once or twice Toby halted suddenly, and the others perforce followed suit; but that was only when Elaine paused to shift her luggage from one hand to the other; then they all resumed the silent march.

When she unlocked the gate of the iron grating surrounding the tomb she did not wait to fasten it behind her; so, as soon as she had entered the mausoleum Toby slipped inside the railing and signaled the others to follow him. The three being now within the enclosure, the young man closed the gate and turned the key in the lock just as Elaine again appeared.

The starlight rendered the three forms clearly visible.

The woman gave a low cry and rushed to the grating, which she shook with impotent rage. Then, turning to confront her captors, she exclaimed:

“Who are you? How dare you come here?”

“A graveyard is not private property,” said the judge.

“Mr. Ferguson!”

“Yes, Miss Halliday. Let me return your question: why are you here?”

She glanced at the door of the mausoleum, which she had left ajar in her first panic at being discovered. Then her eyes fell upon the satchel she had left beside the gate. These people had surprised her, but she reflected that they could know nothing of her secret, or of her present purpose. All she needed was to gain time. Before any could prevent her she sprang to the marble door and forced it shut. It closed with a sharp click as the spring bolt shot into place. The secret of opening it had been known only to Jonathan Eliot and herself.

Toby gave a little laugh, and the lawyer roused himself and said sternly:

“I am awaiting your explanation, Miss Halliday.”

“Well, I guess you’ll wait for it awhile,” she retorted, a note of triumph in her voice. “You’ve no right to detain me here, Judge Ferguson. Open that gate, and let me go!”

“I fear, madam, you have broken the law, and we must therefore arrest you,” said the lawyer.

“I’d like to see you do it!” she cried, but she drew in her breath sharply and pressed one hand to her heart.

“You will be gratified, Miss Halliday. Officer, do your duty.”

As the constable advanced she shrank back against the iron gate.

“No, no!” she said. “Don’t arrest me. I’ve done nothing to be arrested for. Come to the house in the morning and I’ll explain everything.”

The lawyer hesitated.

“You may go to the house, if you wish; but Mr. Parsons will go with you, and guard the place until morning,” he said.

Toby Clark was pulling his sleeve.

“One moment, sir, before you decide,” he pleaded.

“What is it, Toby?”

“Come with me, please.”

The boy went to the door of the mausoleum, touched the secret spring, and the marble block swung out. Elaine gave a cry that was half a sob and pressed her hands to her heart again.

“Come in, please – all of you, if you will,” said the clerk.

Parsons and Mr. Ferguson followed him into the black interior of the tomb. The air was close and bore a peculiar, sickening odor.

“One moment,” said Toby.

He struck a match, holding it shielded between his hands until it flared up and lighted the confined space. On a marble slab in the center of the tomb lay a dead body.

“Good God!” cried the judge, recoiling; “it’s Jonathan Eliot!”

An echoing cry came from Toby. Dropping the match he made a bound for the door just as the heavy slab was swinging into place, urged by Elaine’s most desperate efforts. There was no way to open it from the inside, and the danger was imminent. In an instant the young man had thrust his foot into the crack that was now barely large enough to receive it, while Elaine, crowding the weight of her body against the marble, crushed and mangled the heroic boy’s flesh in a last vain effort to entomb her three captors and condemn them to a horrible death.

The next instant the burly form of Sam Parsons thrust back the door. Then he wrapped his arms around the struggling woman and caught her in a firm clasp. Judge Ferguson, trembling with horror, raised Toby from the ground, where he had fallen and lay writhing and moaning with the pain of his maimed and wounded foot.

Snap – snap! went the handcuffs that encircled Elaine’s wrists, while she fought, scratching and biting, to resist capture.

“I’ll carry Toby down to the doctor’s, sir,” said the constable. “You can march ahead with that tigress. There’s no danger, Judge; she can’t escape us now, and we’ll soon land her in jail.”

CHAPTER XXV

FATHER AND SON

The Darings slept soundly that night, all unaware of the tragic events taking place in their neighborhood. However, the adventure was not yet ended for Judge Ferguson, even when the Halliday woman had been securely locked up and the doctor had dressed Toby’s mangled foot and he had been put to bed.

“Sam,” said the lawyer, “I have work to do, and you must help me.”