"Without Brown's knowledge 'Fingy' was watched. If he had not found it necessary to rob the delicatessen store, he might have met a stranger, as did Boyle, who would provide him with an alibi that no one would believe. The work of providing a bad alibi might have been done and probably was done by a person who knew nothing and had no interest in the members of the Tontine group. Such a man as McGuire could easily have arranged that.

"A police commissioner who was wiped out in the stock market crash; a man who was accustomed to the good things in life in a material sense. A man' who was forced to consort with criminals professionally. He was cleaned out in the crash, and never recovered.

"There is a record of a case similar to that of the Miller case.

Schurman was killed in the way that Emmeline Reynolds was killed in 1898. In her case a bludgeon was used. In Schurman's case Brown probably used his fist. The similarity in particular originality displayed, the details were masterpieces of subtlety.

"We can picture what happened at Brown's farm this morning. Brown refused to go any further with the plan. We have an indication of Brown's character by the fact that he refused to extract a boy's tooth. Oh, no. It is not at all inconsistent. A man like Brown might commit murder to satisfy his false sense of justice, and yet be tenderhearted enough to refuse to inflict pain on a little boy.

"But the old police commissioner had gone too far. There were words. Brown would be of no further use to him. McGuire had the small mirror in his pocket. He calculated that he would find everyone on the pond. If I did not have a complete case against him, what a perfect case the police commissioner would have had, a.s.suming that he was caught coming from Brown's farm. He could have said that he had revenged the death of his comrades.

"He made two grave errors. The sun's rays which he used with such murderous effect were in his eyes facing the east. The porch being in semi-gloom, he thought perhaps that you were all there. His second error was in overestimating the strength with which the porch was fastened to the main building.

"The doc.u.mentary proof of what I say is all there, gentlemen, every step of it. The living proof is present, to say nothing of the dead proof. Small things in themselves; powder marks; fresh putty; the absence of hat fur in a watch case; an apple which was too green, or too sour or too bitter. Small things but what an unbreakable chain."

Epilogue

The world was good to James Hale three days later. He stayed in bed until the sun was high in the sky. Nothing to do for nearly a week.

As he went to the bathroom his whistling and vocal efforts vied with the feathered songsters outside the window. As he pa.s.sed through the living-room on his way to the dining room he picked up a letter addressed to him. The upper left hand corner of the letter told him that it was from the Eagle. He stuffed it carelessly into his pocket. It was probably from one or more members of the gang at the office asking him to smuggle in some Scotch when he came back. It could not be from Hite. Hite never wrote letters. He spoke to his men and women verbally, by telephone or by wire. He even did his firing that way.

He ate his breakfast alone. Matthews and Professor Brierly had gone off somewhere. Norah was in the kitchen singing. Tommy, in the costume with which he had been born, was outside fishing.

Jimmy pushed out the canoe onto the lake and sat there watching Tommy. Tommy never caught anything fishing, but that never disturbs a devotee of the Waltonian art. Tommy had his own methods for the sport. He fished without line, hook or bait. He used neither guile, nor any of the lures employed by fishermen. Tommy stood there in two feet of water staring intently at the denizens of the water darting back and forth. They could plainly be seen, the water was clear. When one of the finny tribe hesitated near the surface of the water Tommy would grab--a fist full of water.

Jimmy tried his blandishments and charm on Tommy without success.

Tommy had his own ideas about Jimmy.

Now Pop was a superior sort of person. Pop paid one the compliment of serious consideration. Also, Professor Brierly having taken a course in tricks of magic in his youth, Pop could do the most wonderful things with his hands and with things. He could and did explain everything. But Jimmy was another, but quite different friend.

Uncle Jack could also do fascinating things with his hands.

Besides, Uncle Jack was quite the strongest and swiftest person in the world. Tommy like Jack, that was a little to much to expect.

Mummie had a place all her own. She was only a woman, of course, but she was the most beautiful woman in the world, one loved her a lot. She could and did make the most delicious things to eat, she tucked one in bed and other things.

Jimmy now, it was hard to cla.s.sify Jimmy. In the first place he was so frivolous. He received one's most serious statements with a grin. And it was remarkable that Pop and Uncle Jack would often join Jimmy in discussing the most frivolous topics, topics that one could not understand. Maybe they were doing it to be polite.

He had been told about that--about being polite and listening respectfully to strangers. Decidedly Jimmy did not make a hit with Tommy. He was tolerated, but that's all. Right now he was grinning at Tommy's serious efforts to catch fish.

Jimmy's attention wandered. This was swell. A perfect day, nothing to do for nearly a week. He would not even look at his portable during this time. His hand went to his pocket for cigarettes and encountered the letter. He lazily tore open the flap.

He sat up and glowed with pleasure. It was from the publisher of his paper. The publisher wrote of "loyalty to the newspaper ideal," "unstinting, unremitting effort." The letter spoke effusively about Jimmy's recent achievement on the murder story.

The letter concluded with the statement that in view of the fact that that splendid story encroached on his vacation, his vacation would be extended with pay for one week.

Now that was something like it. That was appreciation for you.

Hite would never--Martha's voice broke in on his rumination. There was a telephone call. He lazily got out of his canoe.

The first voice was Ann's, the second Hite's.

"Say, Jimmy, I got an idea. You know there's bootlegging in Canada. Fact is where sale of liquor is permitted up to certain hours, there are birds who sell it after hours and are subject to fine and imprisonment mebbe. In view of the to do about prohibition and bootlegging in this country, it would be swell to have a feature story about bootlegging in Canada. Run up to Quebec and Montreal and stop at places between and give us a story will you. That Tontine story was a nice story, Jimmy, g'by."

Hite had talked fast in jerky sentences. All Jimmy had said was, "h.e.l.lo." The wire was dead. Jimmy, with a stony face got out the map of Canada. It showed him what a trip to Quebec and Montreal with stops between would involve. He mumbled: "Quebec-Montreal-stops between-feature story-extend my vacation."