_CHAPTER XXV_
_The Man of the Hour_
Soon we heard the tones of a bell from far away--one, two, three--then apause, then a few quick strokes, followed by a low, single deep note.Hallen answered our looks of astonishment.
"That's the old bell of headquarters. The Mayor promised to ring it, dayor night, when the mystery was solved, and Dowd has carried the news."
Then again came the deep tones in quicker rhythm, and we knew it was allthe old bell could do in the way of joy.
We scarce had time to congratulate Oakes on the splendid termination ofhis work before Hallen was away with his men, taking Maloney to town bya roundabout way.
Then came the crowd to besiege the Mansion and to call for Oakes, andfor Hallen; in fact, for us all. The growling and discontent hadvanished; the past uneasiness was gone. Oakes and Hallen were now theheroes of Mona. Oakes spoke a few words of thanks to the crowd and triedto dispose of it by saying that Hallen had returned to town with theprisoner; but it lingered long before the Mansion, discussing thesuccessful termination of Mona's woes.
Now that a master had unravelled the mystery, details were not difficultto supply. Many recalled, suddenly, that they had always thought Maloney"queer," though they had never considered as significant the points thatmight have been vital. Such is always the case with untrained observers.
We made our farewells that night, for we were to return to New York nextday; but Quintus kept the hour of our going private, for, as he said tous, he had had too much of the kindness of Mona already, and there werewhispers of an ovation or something of that sort reserved for ourdeparture.
"You know, Stone," Oakes said to me, "we really don't deserve all thisgood feeling; these people will never stop. I am going to slip outquietly tomorrow, and you and Dr. Moore can come later."
"Nonsense," said I, "stay and let them show their appreciation of whatyou have done. Why, old man, you have changed the course of events inMona--you cannot help being in their minds."
"You don't understand," said he. "I dislike heroics. Mona overestimatesmatters. I am going away unexpectedly."
Here he set his jaws hard and looked determined, self-reliant,half-disgusted. I knew that he was in earnest and that his nature wascalling once more for action and not for praise.
At eleven o'clock next morning Oakes walked over to the policeheadquarters, while Dr. Moore and I remained in the hotel, casuallywatching him. He was going to make a short call on Chief Hallen, as hehad frequently done before, and it was to be his farewell. He hadplanned to have a horse at the proper moment, and to mount quickly andleave for the station alone, thus avoiding notice and any demonstration.
Since we remained at the hotel, he hoped that the people would be misledinto thinking that he would return to us, and that we would all gotogether.
But for once Quintus Oakes was wrong. Mona was on the lookout for him,and he had no sooner gone into headquarters than some one started therumor that the man was going away quietly. In a minute the place was thecentre of a seething, happy, expectant crowd. When Oakes finallyappeared at the steps, instead of seeing his horse rounding the corneras he had planned, he beheld the crowd in waiting.
He made a step back to enter the headquarters door, but Chief Hallenlaughingly held him, and Quintus Oakes was cornered.
Moore and I were now with the crowd, and joined in the laugh at hisexpense. A deep flush appeared on his face, but we all noticed a merrytwinkle in his deep blue eyes, nevertheless.
Somebody cried for a speech. Oakes hesitated and again tried to retreat,but at that moment all eyes were turned suddenly to a wagon coming downthe side street and accompanied by a small crowd.
It turned into the Square and a hush fell over all, for there in thevehicle was Maloney--the murderer, and an old gray-haired man--Skinner.The murderer of Mr. Mark was handcuffed, and sat heavily guarded; butthe old man was not a prisoner--his head was bowed in silent grief, ashe sat by Maloney's side. It was evident to all that the prisoner wasbeing removed from headquarters to the court-house for trial, and thatthe father was bearing his burden before the world.
Quintus Oakes gave a glance of pity at the prisoner, and an extremelysorrowful expression crossed his strong, handsome face as he recognizedthe old man by Maloney's side.
The populace, recovering from its surprise at sight of the wagon,changed its mood, and surrounded it with angry demonstrations, hissingand threatening. The face of the prisoner was calm, proud, defiant--theface of a man in triumphal entry. He was unconscious of his awfulposition, his awful crimes. He saw only the notoriety.
Dr. Moore turned to me. "See Maloney--see his face; he thinks himself ahero--he is too insane to appreciate the truth." But Skinner looked outupon the crowd and paled; then glancing up, he caught the eyes ofQuintus Oakes, and with a harrowing, beseeching expression, bent hisgray head into his hands.
The populace in fury tried to stop the wagon; but now, at this instant,Oakes rose to the occasion, and the _man_ showed the mettle and thehumanity that was in him.
Rising to his full height, he spoke:
"Stop! This is no time to hiss. Remember, the murderer is irresponsible;the other is his father--an _old, old man_!"
As Quintus's voice rang out in its clear, strong notes, with amarvelously tender accent, and as the full meaning of his words becameapparent, a sudden silence seized the crowd--a silence intense, uneasy,sympathetic. Quintus Oakes was single-handed, alone, but the mastermind, the controlling man among us all.
The silence deepened as men glanced about with ill-concealedemotion--deep, suppressed.
The wagon moved on, and the stillness was broken only by the crunchingof the wheels and the occasional sighing, heavy breathing of thepopulace. Over all was the suspense, the quick, awe-inspiring changefrom vicious hatred to pity and grief, blended instantly in the heartsof all by that strong, vigorous, quick-minded man of action and ofjustice--OAKES.
Taking advantage of the lull, Quintus stepped into the crowd, and beforeany could foresee his purpose, he threw his coat over the pommel of asaddled horse just being led around the corner--his horse--and springinglightly, gracefully to the saddle took the reins.
The crowd, divining his intent, closed about him, but with horsemanshipbeautiful to behold he forced the animal to canter to one side, and thento rear, making an opening in the crowd. The next moment he dartedforward--away--as the people, realizing the tenderness of his speech andthat he was leaving them, perhaps for always, bellowed a reverberating,tumultuous _farewell_.
Chief Hallen shouted a hurried command, and the next moment we were allelectrified to hear the deep tones of the bell of headquarters ringingout its ponderous "God-speed."
Oakes turned in his saddle at the first stroke and, with blazing eyesand suppressed pride, waved a last vigorous acknowledgment.
FINIS.
Transcriber's note: A few printer's errors in the punctuation have beencorrected as has the spelling of 'possibilties' which is now'possibilities'. The oe ligature has been expanded.
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