CHAPTER IXJOSIE INVESTIGATES
"Well, what luck?" asked Mary Louise, as she came into Josie's roomwhile her friend was dressing for dinner.
"Not much," was the reply. "I'm not at all sure, Mary Louise, that thischase will amount to anything. But it will afford me practice injudging human nature, if nothing else comes of it, so I'm not at allsorry you put me on the trail. When are we to see Ingua again?"
"To-morrow afternoon. She's coming to tea in the pavilion."
"That's good. Let me see all of her you can. She's an original, thatchild, and I'm going to like her. Our natures are a good deal alike."
"Oh, Josie!"
"That's a fact. We're both proud, resentful, reckless and affectionate.We hate our enemies and love our friends. We're rebellious, at times,and not afraid to defy the world."
"I'm sure you are not like that, dear," protested Mary Louise.
"I am. Ingua and I are both children of nature. The only difference isthat I am older and have been taught diplomacy and self-control, whichshe still lacks. I mask my feelings, while Ingua frankly displays hers.That's why I am attracted to her."
Mary Louise did not know how to combat this mood. She remained silentuntil Josie was dressed and the two went down to dinner. Their visitorwas no longer the type of a half ignorant, half shrewd sewing-girl,such as she had appeared to be while in the village. Her auburn hairwas now tastefully arranged and her attire modest and neat. She talkedentertainingly during dinner, enlivening her companions thereby, andafterward played a game of dominoes with the Colonel in theliving-room, permitting him to beat her at this, his favoritediversion.
Both the old gentleman and his granddaughter enjoyed their eveningswith Josie O'Gorman, for she proved delightful company. In themornings, however, she would don her cheap gingham, rumple her hair,and pose throughout the day as Josie Jessup the sewing-girl.
Ingua, at first shy of the visitor, soon developed a strong liking forJosie and would talk with her more freely than with Mary Louise. Josiewould skip across the stepping-stones and help Ingua wash the breakfastdishes and sweep the bare little rooms of the cottage and then togetherthey would feed the chickens, gather the eggs and attend to such dailytasks as Ingua was obliged to fulfill. With Josie's help this was soonaccomplished and then the child was free for the day and could runacross to join Mary Louise, while Josie sallied to the village tointerview the natives.
When the girl detective had been at Cragg's Crossing for a week she wasa familiar figure to the villagers--every one of whom was anacquaintance--and had gleaned all the information it was possible tosecure from them, which was small in amount and unsatisfactory inquality. Two or three times she had passed Old Swallowtail on thestreet, but he had not seemed to notice her. Always the old man staredstraight ahead, walking stiffly and with a certain repellent dignitythat forbade his neighbors to address him. He seemed to see no one. Helived in a world known only to himself and neither demanded nor desiredassociation with his fellows.
"An eccentric; bigoted, sullen and conceited," reflected Josie, inconsidering his character. "Capable of any cruelty or crime, but toocautious to render himself liable to legal punishment. The chances arethat such a man would never do any great wrong, from cowardly motives.He might starve and threaten a child, indeed, but would refrain frominjuring one able to resent the act. Nevertheless, he quarreled withJoselyn--and Joselyn disappeared. There was some reason for thatquarrel; some reason for that disappearance; some reason why a man likeEdward Joselyn made Old Swallowtail his confidential friend. A businessconnection, perhaps. Before daring a conjecture I must discover whatbusiness Cragg is engaged in."
She soon discovered that Ingua was as ignorant of her grandfather'sbusiness life as were all others. One day, as the two girls werecrossing the stepping-stones to reach the pavilion, after "doing" themorning housework, Josie remarked:
"In winter one could cross here on the ice."
"Oh, no," replied Ingua, "the water don't freeze. It runs too fast. Butsometimes it gits over the top o' the stones, an' then you has to stepkeerful to keep from fallin' in."
"Did you ever try to cross at such a time?""Once I did, an' I was skeered, you kin bet. But I says to myself: 'IfOl' Swallertail kin make the crossin', I kin--dark or no dark--an' bycracky I tackled it brave as a lion."
"You tried to cross in the dark, on a winter's night? What for, Ingua?"
Ingua, walking beside her up the bank, paused with a startledexpression and grew red. Her eyes, narrowed and shrewd, fixedthemselves suspiciously on Josie's face. But the other returned thelook with a bland smile that surely ought to disarm one moresophisticated than this simple child.
"I mustn't talk 'bout that," said Ingua in a low voice. "Jes' fergit asI said it, Josie."
"Why?"
"Do ye want me choked, or killed?"
"Who would do that?"
"Gran'dad would, if I blabbed."
"Shucks!"
"Ye don't know Gran'dad--not when he's got the temper on him. If ye'dseen what I seen, ye'd know that he'd keep his word--'to, kill me if Italk too much."
Josie sat down on top the bank.
"What did you see, Ingua?"
"Ye'll hev to guess it."
"It looks that way," said Josie calmly; "but you needn't be afraid of_me,_ Ingua. You and I could know a lot of things, together, and keep'em to ourselves. Don't you think I'm a good enough friend not to getyou choked or killed by telling any secrets you confided to me? And--look here, Ingua--this secret is worrying you a good deal."
"Who says so?"
"I do. You'd feel a heap better if you told me about it, for then wecould talk it over together when we're alone."
Ingua sat down beside her, gazing thoughtfully at the river.
"You'd tell Mary Louise."
"You know better than that. A secret's a secret, isn't it? I guess Ican keep my mouth shut when I want to, Ingua."
Josie had a way of imitating Ingua's mode of speech when they weretogether. It rendered their intercourse more free and friendly. But thegirl did not reply at once. She sat dreamily reflecting upon theproposition and its possible consequences. Finally she said in ahesitating way:
"I wisht I knew what ter do. I sometimes think I orter tell somebodythat knows more'n I do, Josie, if I ever blab at all."
"Try me, Ingua. I'm pretty smart, 'cause I've seen more of the bigworld than you have, and know what goes on in the big, busy cities,Where life is different from what it is in this little place. I'velived in more than one city, too, and that means a lot of experiencefor a girl of my age. I'm sure I could help you, dear. Perhaps, whenI've heard your story, I will tell you never to say anything about itto anyone else; and then, on the other hand, I might think differently.Anyhow, I'd never tell, myself, any secret of yours, whatever I mightthink, because I'd cut off my right hand rather than get you intotrouble."
This dramatic speech was intended to appeal to the child's imaginationand win her full confidence. In a way, it succeeded. Ingua sidledcloser to Josie and finally said in a trembling whisper:
"Ye wouldn't git Gran'dad inter trouble either, would ye?"
"Do you like him, Ingua?"
"I hate him! But he's a Cragg, an' I'm a Cragg, an' the Craggs kinstand up an' spit at the world, if they wants to."
"That's right," agreed Josie, emphatically. "We've got to stick up forour own families and fight for our good name when it's necessary. Doyou think I'd let anybody get the best of a Jessup? Never in a thousandyears!"
Ingua nodded her head as if pleased.
"That's the way I look at it, Josie. Ev'rybody's down on Ol'Swallertail, an' I'm down on him myself, fer that matter; but I'll dareanybody to say anything ag'in him when I'm aroun'. An' yet, Josie--an'yet--I ain't sure but he's--but he's a _murderer!"_
She had dropped her voice until she scarcely breathed the last wordsand her little body trembled through and through with tensenervousness. Josie took her hand.
"Never mind, dear," she said gently.
"Perhaps he didn't kill NedJoselyn, after all."
Ingua sprang up with a hoarse scream and glared at Josie in absoluteterror.
"How'd ye know? How'd ye know it were Ned Joselyn?" she demanded,trembling more and more.
Josie's reply was a smile. Josie's smile was essentially winning andsweet. It was reassuring, trustful, friendly.
"This isn't a very big place, Ingua," she quietly remarked. "I cancount the people of Cragg's Crossing on my fingers and toes, and theonly one who has ever disappeared is Ned Joselyn. Why, you've told meso yourself. Your grandfather and Joselyn were friends. Then theyquarreled. Afterward Joselyn disappeared."
"Who said they quarreled?"
"Miss Huckins told me. It was in the office, next door to where shelives and works."
"Oh," with a sigh of relief. "But Ned Joselyn run away. Ev'rybody knowsthat."
"Everybody but you, dear. Sit down. Why do you get so nervous? Really,Ingua, after you've told me the whole story you'll feel better. It'stoo big a secret for one small body to hold, isn't it? And just betweenourselves we will talk it all over--many times--and then it won't seemso dreadful to you. And, after all, you're not positive yourgrandfather killed Ned Joselyn. Perhaps he didn't. But you're afraid hedid, and that keeps you unstrung and unhappy. Who knows but I may beable to help you discover the truth? Sit down, Ingua, and let's talk itall over."