It was a copy of "Our Rival the Rascal," undoubtedly the one Eggert had missed just before we left St. Thomas.

I said nothing, but I thought a great deal. A man who would steal one thing would steal another. If Wesson had carried off that book from the dining room of my host Eggert--

A mile from the hotel I decided to convey to my companion's mind the suspicions that filled my own.

"You remember that book I had one evening at Eggert's--the book you did not wish to look at," I began.

"That horrible thing!" she exclaimed, with a shiver, nodding an affirmative.

"Just before we left Eggert's, you know, he missed the volume. n.o.body had been in the house except you and me, and Wesson. Eggert knew me too well to suspect that I would be guilty of such a theft, and yet he was puzzled. Why, Marjorie, what is the matter with you?"

My last expression was called forth by a strange look on the face of my companion. She fell against me as if too weak to sit up, and yet her eyes were open and not devoid of intelligence.

"My darling!" I cried. "You are ill. Let us return at once."

"No," she said, in a whisper. "It is only temporary. But please say nothing more about the book. If anybody took it--ugh!--it must have been by accident."

"But, my dear," I explained, when she seemed more comfortable, "you must let me tell you of a discovery I have made. I saw that book--"

Rousing herself with difficulty Miss May looked me in the eyes like a sleep-walker.

"Don!" she said, vehemently. "Don! Sometimes you tell me you love me!

How can you then persist in this torture! I cannot bear to think of that book, to hear it spoken of! You may call me foolish, and probably I am.

There are women who are afraid of snakes, lizards, rats; not one of those creatures could disturb my nerves. But when I think of men that live by crime, that rob and steal--and murder--it is as if the hands of one of them was on my own throat!"

Soothingly I promised to be careful in the future--sadly I spoke my regrets at the pain I had caused her. I knew too well the vagaries of ill-balanced nerves not to understand that they require no reason to set themselves on edge.

I bade the driver cut our ride short and we drove back to the hotel in nearly perfect silence.

But I could not help my thoughts. If Wesson had stolen that book, what was there to show that he had not stolen my diamond, and those of Marjorie and of Miss Howes? What could I think but, with his almost exclusive opportunities on the steamer, he was the guilty man? I recalled his offer to watch from our cabin, his a.s.sumption of the role of a sleuth-hound--undoubtedly to deceive me. What was he doing at Barbados unless to watch for another chance to ply his profession?

The more attention I gave to the matter the clearer everything grew.

Undoubtedly Wesson was, on general principles, much more than a match for me in shrewdness, but when I started to do a thing I usually accomplished it.

I resolved that if he was the thief, I would trace his work home to him and make him restore the fruits of his larceny.

CHAPTER XXI.

"YOU WERE IN MY ROOM."

Letters that came the next morning were hardly read, so interested was I in my plan to entrap my sly fellow pa.s.senger. They were from Tom and Statia Barton and from a club friend who had obtained my address from Tom. Statia's had a tone of melancholy that she seemed trying to conceal. Tom's was full of cheer, with wholesome advice about keeping well now I had got into that condition. They had received my first letters, mailed at St. Thomas, and congratulated me on escaping what both persisted in calling the dangers of the sea.

How to expose the knavery of Wesson--that was all I could think of consecutively. I told Miss May that I would not dictate to her that morning and she took the opportunity to drive down town, to do, as she said, a little shopping. Wesson also took a carriage about the same time and I heard him tell the clerk, Miss Byno, he would probably be gone till noon at least.

When they were both out of sight I began to haunt the vicinity of the Boston man's room, which was on the same floor as mine, though much further down the corridor. When no one was near I tried the door, in a foolish hope that he might have left it unlocked, which, of course, he had not done.

If I could get ten minutes alone there I believed I should discover something. At the same time I realized that I was running considerable risk. Should I be discovered in the chamber of another man, rummaging among his things, the fact that I suspected him of having robbed me would be a poor excuse in the eyes of a magistrate.

Still, anxious to convince myself, I was ready to dare even the danger of arrest and punishment. It was a very dangerous proceeding, as I now view it, and only to be justified by success. At the time, nothing could have dissuaded me from my purpose.

As I strolled back to my own room a chambermaid met me, with a bunch of keys in her hand, and she went directly to Mr. Wesson's apartment. For the next twenty minutes, she remained there, engaged in the customary work of her profession, and then came out and began to turn the key in the lock behind her. This was my time, if ever. Hastening to her side I told her in low tones that I wished to play a little joke on my friend who occupied the room and wanted her to leave the door unlocked for an hour or so, or until I called her. To emphasize my desire I exhibited a sovereign and put it into the hand which she held doubtfully toward me.

"I only want to go in a little while," I repeated, trying to force a laugh. "It will be all right. Don't say a word to any one."

The woman looked at the coin, representing a month's wages to her, as if to make sure it was genuine. It probably never entered her head that my intention was other than the one I stated. It was not likely that a gentleman of my cloth would have a felonious design or carry it out in this manner. I had only to add that if it was discovered that the door was unlocked I would take all the blame, and the woman slunk away without a word.

The first thing I noticed after entering and locking the door behind me was the copy of "Our Rival, the Rascal," that had been stolen from the Quarantine Station. It lay on a table and I took it up with interest. On the fly leaf was written Eggert's name and address, proving conclusively that it was the one I supposed. The baggage in the room consisted of a steamer trunk and a "dress-suit case," both of which were locked. A moment later I had tried both locks with keys from my pocket and found--to my joy--that the one on the trunk yielded to the pressure.

I felt awfully uncomfortable, to tell the truth, as I lifted the lid of that trunk. I glanced at the door, wondering if some prying eye might be at the key-hole. Getting a towel from the rack I covered the aperture.

The blinds at the window were shut, so there was no other place from which I could be observed, if I except the high heaven above, and the rect.i.tude of my purpose justified me there, in my belief.

Carefully I lifted the articles in the receptacle, one by one. They were the ordinary things to be expected in the possession of a gentleman travelling. I had nearly relinquished my search when a little packet wrapped in brown paper, attracted my notice. Taking it up I pinched it carefully for an instant, and then, becoming excited, untied the string.

How my heart did beat! For there lay before my eyes the bracelet stolen from Miss Howes, the earrings that Miss May had worn and the stud purloined from my bag! Everything, in short, that we had lost, except the little turquoise ring.

I put that package in my pocket, shut and locked the trunk, and was preparing to quit the room when I heard a turn at the handle of the door. Who could be there, at that time of day? Was it possible Wesson had given up his drive? or had the chambermaid returned with some article needed? The fumbling continued for another minute and then a distinct, though rather low knock followed. I call it low, for subsequent judgment so deems it, but at the time it was as loud to my ears as a pistol shot. Still I kept quiet, for there was nothing to be gained by jumping from the frying pan into the fire. If it was Wesson I fancied I had a card to play that would prevent his putting me to much trouble. If it was any one else they would certainly leave when they received no answer to their summons.

The person outside renewed the knock two or three times and then moved slowly away. As soon as the noise of his steps ceased I opened the door cautiously and stepped out. It took several seconds before I could remove the key from the inside and put it in the aperture toward the hall. Before I could turn it, I was more than disgusted to see a face peering around the nearest corner and taking in the whole proceeding. It was the face of Robert Edgerly!

"Well, well!" he said, coming toward me and leering in an exasperating way. "I took the liberty of calling you a cur the last time we met, but I didn't think--"

He stopped and laughed provokingly.

"It makes very little difference what you think," I retorted, white with anger. "I can explain this to the only person interested, whenever he chooses to inquire. As he seems to be a friend of yours, you may tell him so, if you see him first, with my compliments."

He strode toward me threateningly, his right hand wandering toward his hip pocket.

"Have a care!" he said. "You pretend to be a gentleman, and I find you a sneak-thief. Give me another word and I will denounce you to the proprietor of the hotel!"

Perhaps he had a right to a.s.sume that air. I was not in a very creditable position; but I did not think of this till afterward. He had called me names, had threatened me with violence in the most contemptuous manner. I sprang at his throat with my right hand extended to grasp it and had I succeeded I fear his lease of life would have been short. He was, however, too agile for me. Springing backward he drew a revolver, and the sight of that steelly barrel with five cartridges behind it stopped my headlong course like magic.

"Not quite so fast as you were, eh!" he said, between his teeth. "You know a little joker when you see one. Now, turn your face the other way, put your hands to your side like a whipped boy, and march to the end of the corridor. I will follow you; and when I feel sure you are not up to some scurvy trick--of which I quite believe you capable--I will let you crawl to your room and continue the wonderful genealogy of the idiots from whom you sprung."

I had thought rapidly since he first produced the weapon. I had no anxiety to be murdered. He had the "drop" on me beyond question. My own revolver was in the bottom of one of my trunks, not even loaded.

Discretion was the better part of valor then, if ever since the world was made. Had he not uttered his closing sentence I would have submitted to the humiliation he outlined. But I have a reverence for my ancestors of the Camran race that amounts almost to worship. So far as I can learn I am the only scion of the house who has lowered that distinguished name. To have them dubbed "idiots" was more than I could bear, and I would have died in their defense as cheerfully as any of the Alexanders whose bones whitened the battle-fields of ancient days.

With a curse I again threw myself upon Edgerly and so quickly that he had no time to discharge his weapon. We had a fierce struggle on the floor of the hall, which I soon saw was going against me. Physically I was still, with my long illness behind me, no match for my adversary. He was much the cooler of the two and I knew that he was merely waiting till he could get one hand free from my clasp to turn that revolver against my body.

In fact, he had nearly succeeded in doing this. I saw a smile of satisfaction creeping over his features and realized that nothing but a miracle could save me. We had not made enough noise to attract attention and no one happened to come along the corridor. The miracle arrived, however, or I should in all probability not be writing these lines. I heard a springing step behind me, saw a form bending over both of us and a strong hand wrenching the pistol from Edgerly's grasp. Then a voice that I recognized as that of Wesson said:

"Come, gentlemen, this is carrying your disagreements a little too far."

We rose to our feet, both pretty well winded. Then, to complicate the situation still more, Miss May appeared in the hallway. She stopped humming a light air, as she saw us, and turned deathly pale, as was her habit when alarmed.