The Luminous Face

“I don’t know – but when he spoke of the two of you together, like that, I thought he meant you and Louis. But afterward, I thought he might have meant you and his sister, Mrs Lindsay.”

“You know my brother? You call him Louis!”

“Yes, I know him – not awfully well, but enough to call him anything I like. You don’t have to know anybody so very long to call him pet names.”

“Pet names!”

“Oh, come now, Miss Lindsay, don’t be so shocked. You’re probably more conventional than I am, but you must know a few things. Well, anyhow, I didn’t hear any more, because Mr Gleason shut the door, and I just scooted down the back way and home. I never knew whether you got the money you wanted or not. Did you?”

Phyllis gasped. She was annoyed at the girl’s rudeness, but, after all, Ivy Hayes had a charm of her own, and it was impossible to feel deep resentment toward the flippant little thing.

“I didn’t get it from Mr Gleason, because I didn’t ask him for it. I didn’t ask him for it, because I wasn’t there. I’ve never been there.”

“All right, Miss Lindsay – what you say goes. You’ve never been there. Is that what you came to tell me?”

Ivy cocked her foolish little curly head on one side, and gave Phyllis such a humorous wink that she couldn’t help smiling.

“I don’t wonder Louis likes you,” she said, impulsively. “You’re an adorable little piece.”

“That’s right,” said Ivy, gravely. “Pile it on thick. I just lap it up. Do you think I’m pretty?”

“Yes,” Phyllis returned, simply. “Now, tell me again, why did you think the – the person Mr Gleason said those things to was myself, when you never had seen me – and you say you couldn’t hear me.”

“Well, when the bell rang, Mr Gleason said it was you. That he expected you.”

Phyllis turned pale. “Go on,” she said.

“That’s all. He said, ‘That’s Miss Lindsay coming up. You go.’ So I went. I hung around a few moments, trying to get a glimpse of you, but I couldn’t. I heard you speak, but you spoke so low, and the door was almost shut, so I couldn’t hear a word you said.”

“Well,” Phyllis drew a long breath. “If I was there – I didn’t kill Mr Gleason.”

“Of course you didn’t!” Ivy exclaimed. Then, with a look deep into Phyllis’ eyes, she added, “And you weren’t there. I know it now!”

“How do you know it?”

“Oh, it’s come to me. You were not there that day at all, Miss Lindsay. As you say, you’ve never been there.”

Ivy looked very grave. She gazed at Phyllis with a strange look of divination, and added, “I know you haven’t.”

“Oh, yes, I have,” Phyllis cried quickly. “I was there that day – I was, really. I just said I wasn’t – because – ”

“Oh, come now,” Ivy smiled a little but she did not laugh. “What am I to think? You were there and you weren’t there! You’ve never been there and you were there that day! My goodness gracious!”

“I was there,” Phyllis said, looking at her coldly. “I said at first I wasn’t, for – for reasons of my own – ”

“Yes, I know,” and Ivy nodded a sagacious head. “What are we going to do about it?”

Phyllis stared. “About what?”

“About the – the reason you said – you know – ”

“Don’t! Don’t look like that! You’re uncanny. What do you know?”

“I don’t know anything. Do you?”

“About what?”

“About who killed Mr Gleason.”

This time Ivy looked directly at Phyllis, and that with a meaning glance.

Phyllis covered her face with her hands, and at once Ivy ran to her side and threw her arms around her.

“Now, don’t cry,” she begged. “It’s no time for that. Let’s see what we can do.”

“Do about what? What are you talking about?”

“Shall I speak out? Shall I put it into words?”

“Yes,” said Phyllis, but she shrank as from a sudden blow.

“Then, here’s how I dope it out. It wasn’t you who were there – but it was Louis.”

“Oh, no, no! It was I. It wasn’t Buddy.”

“Yes it was. You’re trying to shield him. I see it. Now, don’t take that tack with me. Own up – tell me all you know – and I’ll help you.” Phyllis thought a moment.

“Might as well,” Ivy urged. “I know too much to be ignored, and I truly think it would be better for you in every way, to take me into your confidence. Let me help you.”

“How can you?”

“I don’t know, quite. But I do know that if you stick to your story of having been there yourself, when you were not, you’ll get a whole lot of unpleasant notoriety, if nothing worse.”

“Meaning?”

“Suspicion. Accusation. Maybe arrest.”

Phyllis jumped. “Arrest!” she whispered, and her eyes stared in horror.

“Well, maybe not that,” Ivy soothed her, “but, you tell me all about it. Look here, Miss Lindsay, I’m a better detective than half the men on the force. And, say, I know a little girl – well, I don’t suppose you’d want her – but start straight now – tell me everything you know. Let me be your father confessor.”

“But I’ve nothing to confess.”

“You haven’t! How about that story – fib you just told about going to Mr Gleason’s house – when you didn’t go.”

“You don’t know that I didn’t.”

“Yes, I do, and I’ll tell you how I know. It was Louis who went there – not you!”

“You didn’t see him.”

“No, and I didn’t hear him – or I should have known at once. But it was Louis, of course, and when Mr Gleason said ‘You’re both Lindsays,’ and referred to the stepmother, of course it fitted Louis as well as you. Louis wanted money – you know that?”

“Yes, I know that.”

“Has he got it – yet?”

“He will have it to-morrow. A – a friend is going to let me have it for him.”

“Who?”

“Mr Pollard.”

“You seem to be able to get money easily!”

“Mr Pollard is my fiance.”

Phyllis remembered suddenly that Pollard had told her she might want to say that, and just now, in the presence of this girl of a lower class and of a lesser degree of refinement, Phyllis felt a sudden impulse to justify her position. To her mind, to take money from one’s fiance made correct what would otherwise be a questionable thing to do.

“Oho! I see! Why, I thought you and Mr Barry were pals.”

“We are. Good pals. But I am engaged to Mr Pollard.”

“And you’re to get the money for Louis – in time?”

“Yes – in time. You know?”

“I know he’ll be jailed if he doesn’t fork over about twenty thousand to that old shark!”

“Never mind details. Now, truly, Ivy, do you think Buddy was at Mr Gleason’s that day?”

“I don’t think it, I know it. And, Phyllis – he – he killed him.”

In the gravity of the moment neither noticed the intimate use of the name. Phyllis looked at the other, her eyes full of a dumb agony.

“Don’t!” she begged, “don’t say it!”

“Better face it, dear. I am positive. You see it all hangs together. That old maid person on the floor above, saw a young man come in, and I know it was Louis. Where was he at that time? I mean, where does he say he was?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t asked him. Oh, Ivy, he didn’t? – he couldn’t – ”

“Maybe he could. Louis is not much on the strong-arm work, but he has desperate determination, and if he went there to get that money – and if Mr Gleason wouldn’t give it to him – let me see – I suppose Gleason must have said that his condition was your acceptance of his suit!”

“I suppose so,” Phyllis agreed. “He knew how I love Louis, and he often tried to get him to persuade me to do various things. Louis is my idol. I’ve always adored him. I really brought him up, for mother died when he was so little. We’re far closer to one another than most brothers and sisters. Oh, Ivy, what can I do?”

“Hush, let me think. I wish I wasn’t so sure Louis did the thing. But, you see, he was right there – johnny-on-the-spot! And he was mad – and he was desperate – and Mr Gleason’s pistol was handy-by – and he was at the end of his rope – alone with him there – oh, of course, it was inevitable. How has he acted since?”

“Queerly,” Phyllis admitted. “He’s nervous and jumpy, and afraid of everybody.”

“Of course he is. Well, Phyllis, he’ll have to run away.”

“Oh, no!”

“Yes, he will. It’s all very well to be shocked at the idea, and to prefer to have him face the music – but the risk is too great! Even if he should be innocent – and he can’t be – they’d put him through with bells on!”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean as soon as the police get Louis in their mind as a suspect, they’ll pounce on him, and they’ll fasten it on him, no matter what he says.”

“Railroad him – ”

“That’s not quite the word. You don’t know much about these things, do you? Railroad is a term they use about innocent suspects, and Louis – ”

“Oh, Ivy, how can you? Stop! Don’t you love him, too?”

“Oh, in a way. But it’s enough of a way to want him to get off! I tell you he must vanish – disappear. And that big money must be paid, or those people will be after him. You know all about that deal?”

“Yes; and I may as well tell you, I was out that afternoon, in a taxicab with – with Bill Halsey.”

“Halsey! You! Oh, you poor dear.”

“Oh, he was respectful – very decent, in fact. He was to go with me to Mr Gleason – I was expected, you see – and I was to try to persuade Mr Gleason to pay that debt and free Louis from the sharks. I knew Mr Gleason’s price would be my promise to marry him – and – I expected to pay.”

“Well, why didn’t you go to Gleason’s?”

“Because – as we neared there, we saw Louis going in!”

“What time was that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s all a horrid nightmare. I turned around and went right home. No, not right home; we drove around a bit, trying to decide what to do. Mr Halsey was nice; he said for me to follow up my brother or to wait developments, just as I chose. Of course, I said I’d wait and learn the result of Louis’ visit – I knew what he went for.”

“And since – since we know the result of Louis’ visit, has Mr Halsey been after you?”

“Yes; but I told him that now the inheritance was mine, I’d pay him all Louis owes him just as soon as I could arrange it. He seemed satisfied, only he wants the money at once. So Mr Pollard is getting it for me.”

“Well, anyway, Bill Halsey won’t bother Louis about that. Now, I tell you, Phyllis, it’s necessary that we get the boy away – smuggle him out of the country – ”

“Out of the country!”

“Yes – Canada, Europe – anywhere. Or maybe it would be easier to hide him. Do you know of any country place – some friend’s house – no, they’d find him. Oh, what can we do?”

“It’s too big a question for us to handle. Two girls can’t take care of a case like this. I’ll ask Mr Pollard what to do.”

“Yes, that’s good. Mr Barry wouldn’t be very capable – but Mr Pollard is.”

“You know him?”

“Not personally. But I know he’s a powerful and a wise man. He’ll know just what to do. And as you’re engaged to him – you’ll want to tell him about Louis – or, won’t you?”

“Why, yes – I suppose so. But how you take things for granted! I must see Louis first of all. Oh, Buddy, Buddy dear!”

In the meantime, Phyllis’ mysterious disappearance was causing dismay and consternation in many hearts and minds.

Prescott, who had started out to find her, was looking everywhere, except in the home of Ivy Hayes.

Belknap, still at the Lindsay house, talked it over with Mrs Lindsay and Philip Barry and concluded that at last they were on the right track. He had no fears about finding the girl, for she could not disappear permanently. But it was a shock, and he was a little bewildered.

“Of course,” he said, “disappearance is practically confession. Miss Lindsay must be found – can, probably, easily be found. But I am sorry.”

“Sorry!” cried Millicent, “how you talk! You don’t mean you think Phyllis killed my brother, do you?”

“You said that yourself, at first, Mrs Lindsay,” Belknap reminded her.

“Only in the excitement of my first shock. Really, I was not quite responsible for what I said that night. Now, I know Phyllis couldn’t have done it – ”

“Why not?”

“A girl like that! Incredible.”

“It has been done. It may be she was under great provocation.”

“But, hold on, Belknap,” Barry cried; “don’t go too fast. What have you by way of evidence? Only that Miss Lindsay was seen in a taxicab with some man. What does that prove?”

“That there are some questions for Miss Lindsay to answer. I am not accusing her unheard. I want to hear her, to see her, to question her. And she has run away – which is, to say the least, a strange thing for her to do.”

“Oh, she hasn’t run away. There are dozens of plausible reasons for her sudden departure. And see here, Belknap, don’t let your suspicions turn toward that girl. It’s too ridiculous.”

“It will bear investigation.”

“Not even that. Since you’ve taken this attitude, I’ve decided to come through myself. I killed Robert Gleason.”

Belknap looked at him. “Now, Mr Barry, that’s too transparent. You’re saying that to shield Miss Lindsay.”

“Seems to me you’d better not jump at conclusions too continuously. And are you logical? You suspect Miss Lindsay with no evidence – only because she chanced to go out when you wanted to see her. Yet when I come and give myself up, you refuse to believe my confession. Can you not say, at least, that it needs investigation? Isn’t it your habit to look into the matter of a serious confession?”

Belknap stared at him.

But Millicent Lindsay cried out: “Oh, Phil, I’m so sorry! Do you know, I felt it was you all along. And I like you so much! But when I learned about the letter you wrote to Robert – you did write it, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” said Barry.

“Well, as soon as I heard about that, I knew you did it. You never liked Robert, but that was mostly because you thought he would get Phyllis away from you. But to kill him! I can hardly believe it – and yet, I’ve felt sure of it for some time!”

The doorbell rang, and in a flurry of tears and agitation Millicent ran away to her own room.

The newcomer was Pollard, and as he entered he observed the serious attitude of the two men.

“What is it?” he asked, simply.

“I’ve just confessed to the Gleason murder,” said Barry.

“What did you confess for?”

“Because I did it. What does any one confess for?”

“Usually because he didn’t do it. The real murderer rarely confesses.”

“Just what I think,” Belknap said; “Mr Barry has an idea that Miss Lindsay will be accused, and he has confessed to prevent it.”

“That it, Phil?” and Manning Pollard looked Barry squarely in the eyes.

“Take it any way you like, Pol,” Barry said. “I make my confession, I give myself up – now let the law – if such a thing exists – take its course. And there’s that letter. You know I wrote it, Pollard. You know I must have written it. There’s no other possible theory. You know I left you about six – or a little before. You know I’ve no alibi – and there was time enough for me to go down to the Gleason place and get back for the dinner party.”

“You rattle it off like a lesson, Phil. How did you go down there?”

Barry stared, but quickly said, “Taxi.”

“Did no one see you go in?”

“Not that I know of. Shut up, Pollard.”

Pollard shut up, and Belknap asked a long string of questions. These Barry answered, but even then, Belknap did not arrest him. The attorney went away, leaving the matter in abeyance, for, as a matter of fact, he had no idea Barry was telling the truth.

“Shielding somebody?” Pollard asked as soon as Belknap had gone.

Barry look at him. “I confessed,” he said.

“Yes; I know. To shield Phyllis – or Louis?”

“Don’t, Pol.”

“Own up, old chap. Or perhaps you suspect them both.”

“I do! How did you know? They were there together. There was trouble. Louis sent that telephone message – after the shooting – and he muddled it. It’s all been a muddle ever since!”

“It surely has,” agreed Pollard. “But I’m not sure you’ve chosen the best way to clear it up.”

“Well, I had to. I can’t see Phyllis dragged through a trial – and she would say or do anything to shield Louis. So I thought I’d throw myself into the breach.”

“You’ve certainly done so – whether for good or ill.”

CHAPTER XVI – Buddy

“Now that the money is paid, Phyllis, dear, and the whole matter is hushed up, Louis will never be suspected of having had anything to do with that Bill Halsey gang. It was a narrow escape – if the story had come out, it would have stained the boy’s reputation badly. But, thanks to your quick action and watchful care, your brother is released from their clutches and you need worry about that no more.”

“Thanks, too, to your kindness in letting me have the money. I will repay you just as soon as Mr Lane settles financial matters enough to give it to me out of my inheritance.”

“No hurry about it. Instead of that, let’s talk about ourselves. When are you going to let me give you a ring?”

“Oh, not yet,” and Phyllis looked distressed. “Wait till this awful matter of the Gleason death is explained.”

“Will it ever be?” Pollard spoke gravely, and added, “Do you want it to be?”

“Oh,” she cried, “don’t look like that! Do you suspect Louis, too? Buddy never did it! Never!”

“No, of course he didn’t. Do you sometimes think Phil – ”

“Philip Barry! No! He says he did, to shield my brother – ”

“And you.”

“Me!”

“Yes. Let’s speak frankly, Phyllis. I can’t bear to fence or quibble with you. Now, you know, you and Louis were there – ”

“Oh, no, we weren’t – well – maybe we were – oh, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“Poor little girl. Don’t try to make up stories to me. Tell me just how it was – or, don’t tell me anything – as you wish, but don’t tell me what isn’t so. I can’t help you if you do that.”

Phyllis looked at him searchingly. She trusted him – and yet, she hesitated to put into words her own suspicions of Louis.

“I’m sure Phil Barry is shielding some one else,” she began.

“But, dear, that letter – how could that have been written, except by Barry?”

“Now, don’t you prevaricate to me!” she cried; “you know whatever is the explanation of the letter, Phil Barry isn’t guilty!”

“I don’t know any such thing! If Barry wrote the letter, he must have meant something by it, and until he is proved innocent, there’s good reason for suspecting him.”

“Don’t you suspect Louis?” Phyllis asked directly, facing Pollard with a straightforward gaze.

“Don’t ask me, dear. If I did – if I do – I wouldn’t say so, because – because I love you. Confide in me – please do, darling. If you suspect your brother, tell me so, and I’ll do all I can to divert suspicion from him.”

“Even if you think him guilty?”

“Certainly. If Louis did it – he was blinded by rage, or, moved by a sudden homicidal impulse born of desperation – ”

“But that doesn’t excuse him.”

“Not to the law – but to me, he is excused because he is your brother – ”

“Yes, my brother – my little Buddy – oh, Manning, I can’t face it!”

“You weren’t there, too – at the time?”

“At the time of the murder? Oh, no!” Phyllis’ eyes were wide with horror.

“Do you know that Louis was there?”

Pollard pressed the question, glad that Phyllis had abandoned pretense, and was telling truths.

“Yes, I do.” The pained eyes looked beseechingly into his. “I have the evidence of an eye-witness – or, nearly.”

“What do you mean by nearly?”

“Why, somebody else was there, who didn’t see Louis, but who heard him – or, rather, heard Mr Gleason talking to him.”

“Is that all? Phyllis, that isn’t enough to convict Louis!”

“Isn’t it? But, if they accuse him – he’ll break down and confess. I know Buddy; as soon as a breath of suspicion touches him he’ll go all to pieces – ”

“Whether he’s guilty or not?”

Phyllis stared. “Why, no, of course not if he isn’t guilty. Oh, Manning, do you think he isn’t? Tell me you do!”

“I wish I could, darling. But, I do say, there’s no real evidence and we may be able to prevent any from coming to light. Even if Louis was there, didn’t he leave before the time of the attack?”

“I don’t know. I can’t find out. I daren’t mention it to him. Oh, Buddy, dear – I’m sure you never did it!”

“I’m sure, too,” said Pollard, decidedly, and, whatever was in his mind there was conviction in his tone. “Now, see here, Phyllis, let’s do nothing in the matter. As near as I can make out, Barry’s confession is not believed at all by the police. They are sure he’s shielding some one, but they don’t know who it is. Of course, Barry won’t tell, so Louis is safe.”

“But suppose they do come to believe Phil, and he is arrested!”

“Not a chance.”

“But if they should?”

“Would you care so much?” Pollard spoke softly, and tenderly. “If it should mean Louis’ safety – ”

“At the expense of an innocent man? Oh, impossible!”

“But you love Buddy – ”

“I do, yes – but if he is guilty – nobody else can be allowed to suffer in his place. Least of all, Phil Barry.”

Phyllis said the name, with a gentler light in her eyes, a softer inflection of her voice, and Pollard felt a sudden chill at his heart.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, quietly, “anything especial?”

“No – oh, no,” but Phyllis blushed.

“Remember, dear, you’re engaged to me,” Pollard said, smiling at her. “I resent such implications of any other interest of yours.”

“You resent my interest in Phil Barry! Why, I thought he was your best friend.”

“He is. But he can’t be yours. Not your best friend – only second-best.”

“Well, he’s too dear a friend for me to let any undeserved suspicion fall on him,” and Phyllis’ eyes shone with righteous indignation.

“First, we must be sure it is undeserved.”

“Very well, I will make sure!”

With a determined gesture, Phyllis pushed a bell button and a maid responded.

“Ask Mr Lindsay to come here,” Phyllis directed, and then turning to Pollard with a pretty gesture of confidence, she said:

“Let’s work together, Manning. You see what you think of the way Louis meets my questions. I’ve decided to meet the issue straight.”

“What is it, Sis?” asked Louis, coming into the room. “What do you want of me? Hello, Pollard, how are you?”

“Buddy, dear,” Phyllis began, “where were you the day Mr Gleason died?”

“Out with it Phyl. Do you think I killed him?”

Louis looked at his sister. The boy was haggard, pale and worried looking, but he met her eye and awaited her answer to his question.

“No, Louis, I can’t think so – but there are circumstances that make it appear possible, and I want your word.”

“Well, then, Phyllis, I didn’t do it.”

Calmly the brother gazed at the sister. Anxiously, Phyllis scanned the well-known face, the affectionate eyes, the sensitive, quivering mouth, but though agitated, Louis had himself well in hand, and his frank speech carried conviction.

Phyllis drew a long breath.

“I believe you, Buddy,” she said.

Pollard was quiet for a moment, and then observed, “All right, Lindsay. And, in that case, you’re probably willing to tell all about your presence there that afternoon. Why haven’t you done so?”

Pollard’s tone was not accusing so much as one of friendly inquiry, and Louis, after a moment’s hesitation, replied:

“Why, Pol, I suppose I was a coward. I was afraid, if I admitted I was in Gleason’s place that afternoon, I might be suspected of the crime – and I’m innocent – before God, I am.”

The solemn voice rang true, and Phyllis clasped his hand as she said, “I know it, Buddy, I know you never did it!”

“But, if it comes out I was there, I can’t help being suspected,” Louis went on, a look of terror coming to his face. “I – oh, I hate to confess it, but I am afraid. Not afraid of justice – but afraid I’ll be accused of something I didn’t do!”

“You would, too, Louis,” Pollard said. “Better keep still about the whole matter, I think. You see, Louis, except for the murderer, you are probably the last one who saw Gleason alive. Now, that, in itself is troublesome evidence, especially if the murderer doesn’t turn up. That is why, I think, my theory of the stranger from the West is undoubtedly the true one. You see, none of the people hereabouts – I mean you, Barry, Davenport, myself, or any of us Club men could have been down there so late, and then turned up here for the dinner party. Of course, that would have been possible, but highly improbable. While an outsider, a man known to Gleason but not to any of use, could have come and gone at will.”