XIV
A LOOP OF SILK
Sweetwater hesitated.
"I am very fond of the one of your own choosing," he smiled, "but if youinsist----"
Mr. Gryce was already writing.
In another moment the two slips were passed in exchange across the table.
Instantly, a simultaneous exclamation left the lips of both.
Each read a name he was in no wise prepared to see. They had beenfollowing diverging lines instead of parallel ones; and it took some fewminutes for them to adjust themselves to this new condition.
Then Mr. Gryce spoke:
"What led you into loading up Correy with an act which to accept as truewould oblige us to deny every premise we have been at such pains toestablish?"
"Because--and I hope you will pardon me, Mr. Gryce, since our conclusionsare so different--I found it easier to attribute this deed of folly--orcrime, if we can prove it such--to a man young in years than to one oldenough to know better."
"Very good; that is undoubtedly an excellent reason."
As this was said with an accent we will for want of a better word call_dry_, Sweetwater, hardy as he was, flushed to his ears. But then anyprick from Mr. Gryce went very deep with him.
"Perhaps," he ventured, "you will give even less indulgence to what Ihave to add in way of further excuse."
"I shall have to hear it first."
"Correy is a sport, an incorrigible one; it is his only weakness. Hebets like an Englishman--not for the money, for the sums he risks aresmall, but for the love of it--the fun--the transient excitement Itmight be"--here Sweetwater's words came slowly and with shamefacedpauses--"that the shooting of that arrow--I believe I said something likethis before--was the result of a dare."
A halt took place in the quick tattoo which Mr. Gryce's fingers weredrumming out on the table-top. It was infinitesimal in length, but itgave Sweetwater courage to add:
"Then, I hear that he wishes to marry a rich girl and shrinks fromproposing to her on account of his small salary."
"What has that got to do with it?"
"Nothing so far as I can see. I am only elaborating the meager reportlying there under your hand. But I recognize my folly. You ordered meto dream, and I did so. Cannot we forget my unworthy vaporings and enterupon the consideration of what may prove more profitable?"
Here he glanced down at the slip of paper he himself held--the slip whichMr. Gryce had handed him with a single word written on it, and that worda name.
"In a moment," was Mr. Gryce's answer. "First explain to me how, with thefacts all in mind, and your chart before your eyes, you reconciledCorrey's position on the side staircase two minutes after the shootingwith your theory of a quick escape to the court by means of the door backof the tapestry? Haven't you hurried matters to get him so far in such ashort space of time?"
"Mr. Gryce, I have heard you say yourself that this question of time hasbeen, from the first, our greatest difficulty. Even with these threemeans of escape in our minds, it is difficult to see how it was possiblefor anyone to get from the gallery to the court in the minute or soelapsing between the cry of the dying girl and the appearance at her sideof the man studying coins in the adjoining section."
"You are right. There was a delay somewhere, as we shall find later on.But granting this delay, a man would have to move fast to go the fulllength of the court from the Curator's room even in the time which thissmall delay might afford him. But perhaps you cut this inextricable knotby locating Correy somewhere else than where he placed himself at themaking of the chart."
"No, I cut it in another way. You remember my starting to tell you justnow how, in my dissatisfaction with a certain portion of my dream, Irefused to believe in the escape of my Mr. X by the way of the Curator'soffice. The tapestry was lifted, the bow flung behind, but the manstepped back instead of forward. An open flight along the gallerycommended itself more to him than the doubtful one previously arrangedfor. If you will accept that for fact, which of course you will not, itis easy to see how Correy might have been somewhere on that staircasewhen the inspiration came to turn the appearance of flight into a showof his own innocence, by a quick rush back into the further galleryand a consequent loud-mouthed alarm. But I see that I am but gettingdeeper and deeper in the quagmire of a bad theory badly stated. I amforgetting----"
"Many things, Sweetwater. I will only mention a very simple one. Theman who shot the arrow wore gloves. You wouldn't attribute any suchextraordinary precaution as that to a fellow shooting an arrow acrossthe court on a dare?"
"You wouldn't expect it, sir. But in going about the museum thatafternoon, I came upon Correy's coat hanging on its peg. In one of itspockets was a pair of kid gloves."
"You say the fellow is courting a rich girl," suggested Mr. Gryce. "Underthose circumstances some show of vanity is excusable. Certainly he wouldnot carry his folly so far as to put on gloves for the shooting matchwith which you credit him, unless there was criminal intent back of hisfolly--which, of course, would be as hard for you as for me to believe."
Sweetwater winced, but noting the kindly twinkle with which Mr. Grycesoftened the bitterness of this lesson, he brightened again and listenedwith becoming patience as the old man went on to say:
"To discuss probabilities in connection with this other name seems futilethis morning. The ease with which one can twist the appearances of thingsto fit a preconceived theory as exemplified by the effort you have justmade warns us to be chary of pushing one's idea too far without thefirmest of bases to support it. If you find a man's coat showingsomewhere on its lining evidences that there had once been sewed to it aloop of the exact dimensions of the one I passed over to you last night,I should consider it a much more telling clue to the personality of Xthan a pair of gloves in the pocket of a man who in all probabilityintends to finish up the day with a call on the girl he admires."
"I understand." Sweetwater was quite himself again. "But do you know thatthis is no easy task you are giving me, Mr. Gryce. Where a man has buttwo coats, or three at best, it might not be so hard, perhaps, to get atthem. But some men have a dozen, and if I don't mistake----"
"Sweetwater, I meant to give you a task of no little difficulty. It willkeep you out of mischief."