CHAPTER XXII
"ARE YOU WITH ME OR AGAINST ME?"
Miss Phyllis Harriman had breakfasted earlier than usual. Herluxuriant, blue-black hair had been dressed and she was debating theimportant question as to what gown she would wear. The business of herlife was to make an effective carnal appeal, and she had a very suresense of how to accomplish this.
A maid entered with a card, at which Miss Harriman glanced indolently.A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth, but it was not wholly oneof amusement. In the dark eyes a hint of adventure sparked. Herpulses beat with a little glow of triumph. For this young woman was ofthe born coquettes. She could no more resist alluring an attractiveman and playing with him to his subsequent mental discomfort than shecould refrain from bridge drives and dinner dances. This Wild Man fromWyoming, so strong of stride, so quietly competent, whose sardonicglance had taken her in so directly and so keenly, was a foeman worthyof her weapons.
"Good gracious!" she murmured, "does he usually call in the middle ofthe night, I wonder? And does he really expect me to see him now?"
The maid waited. She had long ago discovered that Miss Phyllis did notalways regulate her actions by her words.
"Take him into the red room and tell him I'll be down in a minute,"Miss Harriman decided.
After which there was swift action in the lady's boudoir.
The red room was scarcely more than a cozy alcove set off the mainreception-room, but it had a note of warmth, of friendly and seductiveintimacy. Its walls whispered of tete-a-tetes, the cushions hinted atinteresting secrets they were forever debarred from telling. In short,when Miss Harriman was present, it seemed, no less than the clothes shewore, an expression of her personality.
After a very few minutes Miss Phyllis sauntered into the room and gaveher hand to the man who rose at her entrance. She was simply butexpensively gowned. Her smile was warm for Kirby. It told him, with atouch of shy reluctance, that he was the one man in the world she wouldrather meet just now. He did not know that it would have carried thesame message to any one of half a dozen men.
"I'm so glad you came to see me," she said, just as though she were inthe habit of receiving young men at eleven in the morning. "Of courseI want to know you better. James thinks so much of you."
"And Jack," added Lane, smilingly.
"Oh, yes. Jack, too," she said, and laughed outright when their eyesmet.
"I'm sure Jack's very fond of me. He can't help showing itoccasionally."
"Jack's--impulsive," she explained. "But he's amenable to influence."
"Of the right sort. I'm sure he would be."
He found himself the object of a piquant, amused scrutiny under herlong lashes. It came to him that this Paris-gowned, long-limbed youngsylph was more than willing to let him become intrigued by her charms.But Kirby Lane had not called so early in the day to fall in love.
"I came to see you, Miss Harriman, about the case," he said. "My goodname is involved. I must clear it. I want you to help me."
He saw a pulse of excitement flutter in her throat. It seemed to himthat her eyes grew darker, as though some shadow of dread had fallenover them. The provocative smile vanished.
"How can _I_ help you?" she asked.
"If you would answer a few questions--"
"What questions?" All the softness had gone from her voice. It hadbecome tense and sharp.
"Personal ones. About you and my uncle. You were engaged to him, wereyou not?"
"Yes."
"There wasn't any quarrel between you recently, was there?"
A flash of apprehension filled her eyes. Then, resolutely, shebanished fear and called to her aid hauteur.
"There was not, though I quite fail to see how this can concern you,Mr. Lane."
"I don't want to distress you," he said gently, "Just now that questionmust seem to you a brutal one. Believe me, I don't want to hurt you."
Her eyes softened, grew wistful and appealing. "I'm sure you don't.You couldn't. It's all so--so dreadful to think about." There was alittle catch in her throat as the voice broke. "Let's talk ofsomething more cheerful. I want to forget it all."
"I'm sure you do. We all want to do that. The surest way to get itout of our minds is to solve the mystery and find out who is guilty.That's why I want you to tell me a few things to clear up my mind."
"But I don't know anything about it--nothing at all. Why should youcome to me?"
"When did you last see my uncle alive?"
"What a dreadful question! It was--let me think--in the afternoon--theday before--"
"And you parted from him on the best of terms?"
"Of course."
He leaned toward her ever so little, his eyes level with hers andsteadily fastened upon her. "That's the last time you saw him--untilyou went to his rooms at the Paradox the night he was killed?"
She had lifted her hand to pat into place an escaping tendril of hair.The hand remained lifted. The dark eyes froze with horror. Theystared at him, as though held by some dreadful fascination. From hercheeks the color ebbed. Kirby thought she was going to faint.
But she did not. A low moan of despair escaped from the ashen lips.The lifted arm fell heavily to her lap.
Then Kirby discovered that the two in the red room had become three.Jack Cunningham was standing in the doorway.
His glance flashed to Lane accusingly. "What's up? What are you doinghere?" he demanded abruptly.
The Wyoming man rose. "I've been asking Miss Harriman a question."
"A question. What business have you to ask her questions?" demandedJack hotly.
His cousin tried a shot in the dark. "I was asking her," he said, hisvoice low and even, "about that visit you and she paid to Uncle James'srooms the night he was killed."
Kirby knew instantly he had scored a hit. The insolence, the jauntyconfidence, were stricken from him as by a buffet in the face. For amoment body and mind alike were lax and stunned. Then courage flowedback into his veins. He came forward, blustering.
"What do you mean? What visit? It's a damned lie."
"Is it? Then why is the question such a knockout to you and MissHarriman? She almost fainted, and it certainly crumpled you up tillyou got second breath."
Jack flushed angrily. "O' course it shocked her for you to make such acharge against her. It would frighten any woman. By God, it's anoutrage. You come here and try to browbeat Miss Harriman when she'salone. You ask her impudent questions, as good as tell her she--she--"
Kirby's eyes were like a glittering rapier probing for the weakness ofhis opponent's defense. "I say that she and you were in the rooms ofUncle James at 9.50 the evening he was killed. I say that youconcealed the fact at the inquest. Why?" He shot his question at theother man with the velocity of a bullet.
Cunningham's lip twitched, his eye wavered. How much did his cousinknow? How much was he merely guessing?
"Who told you we were there? How do you know it? I don't propose toanswer every wild accusation nor to let Miss Harriman be insulted byyou. Who are you, anyhow? A man accused of killing my uncle, the manwho found his valet dead and is suspected of that crime, too, a fellowwho would be lying behind the bars now if my brother hadn't put up themoney to save the family from disgrace. If we tell all we know, thepolice will grab you again double-quick. Yet you have the nerve tocome here and make insinuations against the lady who is mourning myuncle's death. I've a good mind to 'phone for the police right now."
"Do," suggested Kirby, smiling. "Then we'll both tell what we know andperhaps things will clear up a bit."
It was a bluff pure and simple. He couldn't tell what he knew any morethan his cousin could. The part played by Rose and Esther McLean inthe story barred him from the luxury of truth-telling. Moreover, hehad no real evidence to back his suspicions. But Jack did not know howstrong the restraining influence was.
"I didn't say I was going to 'phone. I said I'd a jolly good mind to
,"Cunningham replied sulkily.
"I'd advise you not to start anything you can't finish, Jack. I'llgive you one more piece of advice, too. Come clean with what you know.I'm goin' to find out, anyhow. Make up your mind to that. I'm goin'through with this job till it's done."
"You'll pull off your Sherlock-Holmes stuff in jail, then, for I'mgoing to ask James to get off your bond," Jack retorted vindictively.
"As you please about that," Lane said quietly.
"He'll choose between you or me. I'll be damned if I'll stand for hiskeeping a man out of jail to try and fasten on me a murder I didn't do."
"I haven't said you did it. What I say is that you and Miss Harrimanknow somethin' an' are concealin' it. What is it? I'm not a fool. Idon't think you killed Uncle any more than I did. But you an' MissHarriman have a secret. Why don't you go to James an' make a cleanbreast of it? He'll tell you what to do."
"The devil he will! I tell you we haven't any secret. We weren't inUncle's rooms that night."
"Can you prove an alibi for the whole evening--both of you?" the rangerider asked curtly.
"None of your business. We're not in the prisoner's dock. It's youthat is likely to be there," Jack tossed out petulantly.
Phyllis Harriman had flung herself down to sob with her head in thepillows. But Kirby noticed that one small pink ear was in the open totake in the swift sentences passing between the men.
"I'm intendin' to make it my business," Lane said, his voice ominouslyquiet.
"You're laying up trouble for yourself," Jack warned blackly. "If youwant me for an enemy you're going at this the right way."
"I'm not lookin' for enemies. What I want is the truth. You'reconcealin' it. We'll see if you can make it stick."
"We're not concealing a thing."
"Last call for you to show down your cards, Jack. Are you with me oragainst me?" asked Kirby.
"Against you, you meddling fool!" Cunningham burst out in a gust offury. "Don't you meddle with my affairs, unless you want trouble rightoff the bat. I'm not going to have a Paul Pry nosing around andhinting slanders about me and Miss Harriman. What do you think I am?I'll protect my good name and this lady's if I have to do it with agun. Don't forget that, Mr. Lane."
Kirby's steady gaze appraised him coolly. "You're excited an' talkin'foolishness. I'm not attackin' anybody's good name. I'm lookin' forthe man who killed Uncle James. I'm expectin' to find him. If anybodystands in the way, I'm liable to run against him."
The man from Twin Buttes bowed toward the black hair and pink ear ofhis hostess. He turned on his heel and walked from the room.