Agatha Webb

  XXVIII

  "WHO ARE YOU?"

  The round had come full circle. By various chances and a train ofcircumstances for which he could not account, he had been turned fromhis first intention and was being brought back stage by stage to thevery spot he had thought it his duty to fly from. Was this fate? Hebegan to think so, and no longer so much as dreamed of strugglingagainst it. But he felt very much dazed, and walked away through the nowpartially deserted streets with an odd sense of failure that was onlycompensated by the hope he now cherished of seeing his mother again, andbeing once more Caleb Sweetwater of Sutherlandtown.

  He was clearer, however, after a few blocks of rapid walking, and thenhe began to wonder over the contents of the letter he held, and how theywould affect its recipient. Was it a new danger he was bringing him?Instead of aiding Mr. Sutherland in keeping his dangerous secret, was hedestined to bring disgrace upon him, not only by his testimony beforethe coroner, but by means of this letter, which, whatever it contained,certainly could not bode good to the man from whom it was designed towrest two thousand five hundred dollars?

  The fear that he was destined to do so grew upon him rapidly, and thetemptation to open the letter and make himself master of its contentsbefore leaving town at last became so strong that his sense of honourpaled before it, and he made up his mind that before he ventured intothe precincts of Sutherlandtown he would know just what sort of abombshell he was carrying into the Sutherland family. To do this hestopped at the first respectable lodging-house he encountered and hireda room. Calling for hot water "piping hot," he told them--he subjectedthe letter to the effects of steam and presently had it open. He was notdisappointed in its contents, save that they were even more dangerousthan he had anticipated. Captain Wattles was an old crony of Frederick'sand knew his record better than anyone else in the world. From this factand the added one that Frederick had stood in special need of money atthe time of Agatha Webb's murder, the writer had no hesitation inbelieving him guilty of the crime which opened his way to a fortune, andthough under ordinary circumstances he would, as his friend Frederickalready knew, be perfectly willing to keep his opinions to himself, hewas just now under the same necessity for money that Frederick had beenat that fatal time, and must therefore see the colour of two thousandfive hundred dollars before the day was out if Frederick desired to havehis name kept out of the Boston papers. That it had been kept out up tothis time argued that the crime had been well enough hidden to make thealternative thus offered an important one.

  There was no signature.

  Sweetwater, affected to an extent he little expected, resealed theletter, made his excuses to the landlord, and left the house. Now hecould see why he had not been allowed to make his useless sacrifice.Another man than himself suspected Frederick, and by a word couldprecipitate the doom he already saw hung too low above the devoted headof Mr. Sutherland's son to be averted.

  "Yet I'll attempt that too," burst impetuously from his lips. "If Ifail, I can but go back with a knowledge of this added danger. If Isucceed, why I must still go back. From some persons and from somecomplications it is useless to attempt flight."

  Returning to the club-house he had first entered in his search forCaptain Wattles, he asked if that gentleman had yet come in. This timehe was answered by an affirmative, though he might almost as well havenot been, for the captain was playing cards in a private room and wouldnot submit to any interruption.

  "He will submit to mine," retorted Sweetwater to the man who had toldhim this. "Or wait; hand him back this letter and say that the messengerrefuses to deliver it."

  This brought the captain out, as he had fully expected it would.

  "Why, what--" began that gentleman in a furious rage.

  But Sweetwater, laying his hand on the arm he knew to be so sensitive,rose on tiptoe and managed to whisper in the angry man's ear:

  "You are a card-sharp, and it will be easy enough to ruin you. ThreatenFrederick Sutherland and in two weeks you will be boycotted by everyclub in this city. Twenty-five hundred dollars won't pay you for that."

  This from a nondescript fellow with no grains of a gentleman about himin form, feature, or apparel! The captain stared nonplussed, too muchtaken aback to be even angry.

  Suddenly he cried:

  "How do you know all this? How do you know what is or is not in theletter I gave you?"

  Sweetwater, with a shrug that in its quiet significance seemed to makehim at once the equal of his interrogator, quietly pressed the quiveringlimb under his hand and calmly replied:

  "I know because I have read it. Before putting my head in the lion'smouth, I make it a point to count his teeth," and lifting his hand, hedrew back, leaving the captain reeling.

  "What is your name? Who are you?" shouted out Wattles as Sweetwater wasdrawing off.

  It was the third time he had been asked that question within twenty-fourhours, but not before with this telling emphasis. "Who are you, I say,and what can you do to me--?"

  "I am--But that is an insignificant detail unworthy of your curiosity.As to what I can do, wait and see. But first burn that letter."

  And turning his back he fled out of the building, followed by oathswhich, if not loud, were certainly deep and very far-reaching.

  It was the first time Captain Wattles had met his match in audacity.