Argosy All-Story Weekly, August 9, 1924 — page 81: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE MYSTERY that’s settled. But Cushing might have his friends. One thing leads to another, an’ when a thing’s settled it’s best to leave it alone. That’s how they do at sea, like I _ told you in the boathouse. There’s times when it’s mighty convenient to let things be.”’ There the talk ended, for, with a bob of his head, Daniel Bennett stumped away over the stones. Half an hour later Ropes walked into the second story front room of the For- rester cottage and found Holroyd writing at the center table. The latter looked up and smiled and leaned back in his chair. ‘“‘ Holroyd,” said Ropes, “do you re- member when you went to Jackson’s boat- house that foggy night whether the little window at the back of the place was open?” Holroyd considered. ‘‘ Yes, I remember that it was. Is the fact important?”’ ‘In that case, I believe you had a very narrow escape,” said Ropes, ‘‘ from being shot through that window.” “Indeed! And by whom?” ‘“ By Jacob Cushing.” The sailor glanced down at his writing. “‘ What prevented him, do you think?” ‘“‘ Some one came on him outside the win- dow—some one who did you a mighty good turn.” : “A friend of mine, eh?” Holroyd fold- ed the paper on which he had been writing © and placed it in his coat pocket. “I think you may be right about that; but I’d like the chance to thank my friend.” And what struck Ropes as particularly interesting was not the calm air in which Holroyd received his information, but the peculiar inflection he gave to the words “my friend.” CHAPTER XI. CUSHING’S PAY ROLL. HARLES BEDDOES, a well dressed and prosperous looking man, was seated in Mr. Bullard’s office when Ropes, having given his name to the girl who was typing letters outside, was ush- ered into the inner room. OF THE OPAL, 231 “You remember I mentioned Mr. Ropes to you,” said the attorney to Beddoes. “ He’s the friend of Mr. Holroyd.” The gentleman addressed bowed in a po- lite if somewhat distant manner. “Mr. Beddoes is the next of kin of Ja- cob Cushing,” said the lawyer, turning to Ropes. “A second cousin. Mr. Cushing had no near relatives.” ‘And, as it happens, we had seen very little of each other,’ supplemented Bed- does. “ Jacob rarely left Freehaven. My own home is in Boston.” ‘‘ That’s where I come from,” said Ropes. ‘“‘ But you gentlemen were having a private talk.” “No, no,” said Bullard. ‘“ Sit down. I’ve told Mr. Beddoes that you were very much interested in this investigation.” ‘““ The more light we can obtain, the bet- ter,” stated Beddoes in a round tone. “‘ The whole matter is altogether inexplicable to me. My cousin was a much respected citi- zen of this town, and seems to have had no enemies. The only conclusion I have been able to draw is that, in the fog, some one mistook him for another man.” ‘And yet,” put in Ropes, “‘ he had three revolvers in the house, and he took one with him when he went out that night, when he left the house without saying a word to Mr. Dalton, with whom he was playing chess.” Beddoes turned to the speaker, and his expression put Ropes in mind of a very cau- tious bank director who requires proof for every statement. ‘‘ You think, then, that Mr. Cushing suspected that some one might harm him?” ‘““ Now, remember, Mr. Ropes,” said Bul- lard, ‘“‘ that we have no positive proof that Mr. Cushing did take a revolver. It’s true that his servant says there was usually one in the drawer of the hall table, and that none has since been found there; but then the missing revolver wasn’t found in the boathouse.”’ Beddoes nodded his approval. ‘ My cousin was a man of considerable wealth, very considerable for Freehaven; and I think that is a perfectly reasonable expla- nation of his having arms in the house. As for his leaving Mr. Dalton, I presume that GonnilGeboo @) S GO)