"Well what does all this lead up to?" asked the district attorney.

"I will show you very soon, now, Mr. Harlow. If you remember, the safe at the mill was found open the morning after the murder but had been closed and locked by the superintendent. This was a very foolish thing to do, as the combination had been known only to the treasurer, and it was several days before it was opened by an expert sent by the manufacturers. It was then found that the money drawn by Mr. Ellicott for the payroll, some three thousand dollars, had disappeared."

"Yes, I remember," said the district attorney, "the thief was never found, and with the more important matter of the murder on our hands little attention was paid to the loss of the money. It was clear from the start that Robert Wood had nothing to do with it, because revenge, not robbery was his motive. But, what does all this mean that you are telling me?"

"I forgot to state, or, rather postponed saying it, that the coil of rope that was found in the cupboard had a noose in one end of it, and that in Mr. Ellicott's wound I found small particles of stone. I summed up the case thus: Pinchot plotted to steal the money drawn for payday and to kill Mr. Ellicott if it became necessary. He lifted the trap door, having thrown the noose in the rope over the hook in the wall. Mr.

Ellicott was quite deaf and did not notice the opening of the trap door or the man's descent by means of the rope. He used the stone because he could throw it away and no weapon could be found. The murderer saw the oaken staff. He knew that Mr. Ellicott had a visitor that evening so he used the staff to complete his deadly work and left it behind as a witness against an innocent man. He took the money from the safe, drew himself up by the rope, closed the trap door, locked up the rope and threw the stone into the pond. In France he would be safe to spend the proceeds of his crime. A nice bit of circ.u.mstantial evidence, is it not?"

"Then you believe in circ.u.mstantial evidence, Miss Dana?"

"In certain cases. But I think it would render the community just as safe, and be more just to the accused if, in cases of circ.u.mstantial evidence where there is the least doubt, the sentence should be imprisonment for life with a provision in the law that there should be no pardon unless the innocence of the life convict was conclusively proven. When a murderer is taken red-handed, I would not abate one jot or t.i.ttle of the old Mosaic law--an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life. But you know that many murderers of whose premeditated guilt there could be no doubt have been much more leniently dealt with by our judges and juries than those caught in the coils of circ.u.mstantial evidence."

"Where is the watchman now?" asked the district attorney.

"Here in Cottonton, but he is intending to leave to-night for New York, I found out this morning. Of course, he was not able to leave before this as he had to stay in the vicinity, being a witness at the trial, but his leaving so soon now simply seemed to confirm my suspicions, and I thought it time to bring the matter to your attention."

"Miss Dana," said the district attorney, rising, and holding out his hand to her. "I have done the best I could to convict Robert Wood of the murder of Samuel Ellicott, because I really believed him guilty, and my oath of office bound me to do my duty; but, if he is innocent, I believe it as much my duty to right the wrong done him. You have built up a careful case, and I myself shall ask for a stay of sentence until after this new evidence can be presented to the Grand Jury. I believe you have saved an innocent man, and I feel your future as a great detective is a.s.sured."

It was unnecessary for Mr. Harlow to apply for stay of sentence in the case of The Commonwealth of Ma.s.sachusetts _vs._ Robert Wood. Within an hour after Mary Dana had left the district attorney's office, Gustave Pinchot was under arrest, and, sitting in the same chair which Mary had occupied, was confessing his crime.

The day that Robert Wood was discharged, with no stain upon his name, Quincy and Mary took her father to Cottonton. At the prison they met Robert's father who had come to take his son home. He was profuse in his thanks to Mr. Dana, for to him he considered his son's escape from death was due.

"You are wrong, Mr. Wood," said Mr. Dana. "Your son owes his life not so much to me as to my daughter here, and to Mr. Sawyer. She practically worked up the case herself; I made but few suggestions, and it was at her request that Mr. Sawyer made certain investigations that fitted in with her own ideas and made success possible."

"Miss Dana," said young Robert, "a year ago I insulted you, and was properly treated for my words and actions by Mr. Sawyer. I owe you both an apology which I now make and ask your forgiveness. But for you, and Mr. Sawyer, I should have died a felon. You have, indeed, heaped coals of fire on my head."

Mary answered, "That was forgiven long ago, but if you wish my forgiveness you have it freely. How does Miss Ellicott feel now that you are declared innocent?"

"She came to see me this morning and we are to be married as soon as possible, and I am to become the treasurer of the mill. She will own three-quarters of the stock."

When Mr. Strout learned that Robert's release was due to the exertions of Mary and Quincy he sniffed and exclaimed:

"Folks in love will do all sorts of things. She's gone on that young Sawyer, and she only started in on the thing so she could have a chance to traipse around the country with him. He'll come back here for her some day, and her market'll be made. All I hope is that he'll take her to Boston, or some other foreign place to live an' we shall see and hear the last of 'em."

CHAPTER XXI

AT HARVARD

The newspapers gave much s.p.a.ce to the near approach to miscarriage of justice in the Wood's case, and many editorials were written on the fallacy of allowing circ.u.mstantial evidence to carry as much weight as it did. But what was spoken of most was the clever detective work of Mary Dana. She was the recipient of congratulatory letters for her work from all parts of the country, and the press could not say too much in her praise.

Mary received a most flattering offer to join the Isburn Detective Bureau in Boston. Mr. Irving Isburn, the proprietor of the world-wide known agency, had for more than fifty years been engaged in solving mysteries and apprehending offenders against the law. His success had been phenomenal, and if his agency had been called "The Scotland Yard of America" it would have been a derogation rather than a compliment.

He had surrounded himself with the most expert men and women in the profession, and in a letter to Mr. Dana he said he considered Miss Dana would be a most important and valuable acquisition to his staff. Mr.

Dana, however, decided that Mary was too young to start business life, so she was sent to Boston to boarding school for a year. At the expiration of that time she joined Mr. Is burn's staff, and soon that gentleman wrote her father that in certain lines of investigation she was unexcelled.

With the coming of autumn, after Bob Wood's release, Quincy and Tom started in on their four years at Harvard. They had pa.s.sed their entrance examinations without conditions, so the few days in the last of September, spent so anxiously by many of the freshman cla.s.s in trying to make up conditions given them the spring before, allowed Quincy and Tom to live in Arcady until the portals of the temple of learning were ajar. Rooms were engaged at Beck Hall, and the young men began their inspection of the cla.s.sic city on the Charles.

"This city is on the square," remarked Tom. "Lafayette, Central, Putnam, Harvard, Brattle, and some more on the East side I suppose."

"The college is on the square too," said Quincy, "as long as Dr. Eliot is Prexie."

College life has been depicted many times in books, and Quincy and Tom's four years probably contained few events that had not had their counterparts in the lives of other young Harvard men. They joined many clubs and societies the initiation ceremonies being, in reality, a mild form of hazing.

Quincy and his chum were not goody-goody boys, but they had mutually pledged each other that they would lead temperate lives and refrain from all dissipation that would prejudice their standing as students. Quincy saw Mary frequently, and, after she was employed by Mr. Isburn, they talked over some of the most interesting of Mary's cases.

In their college life, Tom and Quincy were unsuspecting, and became the b.u.t.t of many good-natured and some unkind jokes. On one occasion they were invited to join a theatre party. It was a variety or vaudeville show and ended with a pantomime, the closing scene in which was a skating carnival.

When the skaters came on, the members of the theatre party rose in their seats and pelted the performers with paper s...o...b..a.l.l.s made hard by the liberal use of paste. The police were called in. Quincy and Tom had taken no part in the s...o...b..lling but, as examination showed their pockets were full of the subst.i.tutes for the natural product, they were adjudged as guilty as the others.

One evening Quincy and Tom went to the theatre together. During a pathetic speech by the heroine the clang of a big cow bell was heard.

The audience vented its displeasure in hisses. Again came the clangour and all eyes were turned towards the unconscious youths, Quincy and Tom.

Again were the policemen called in. Two young men who sat behind Quincy and his friend were accused of causing the disturbance. They indignantly denied any knowledge of it and left the theatre threatening a suit for damages. Further investigation by the minions of the law discovered the bell fastened to the hat-holder beneath Quincy's seat, while the string that served as a bell pull was under Tom's foot. Denial of such strong circ.u.mstantial evidence was useless and Quincy and Tom promised to cause no further annoyance. On their way home in the car they discussed the situation.

"It's Dupont and Kidder that put that up on us, and we must get even,"

said Tom.

"But how?" was the question.

A week later Tom purchased tickets for a whole row of seats at one of the princ.i.p.al theatres, explaining that they were for a large theatre party. Dupont and Kidder had been recipients of complimentary tickets which ent.i.tled them to seats in the middle of the row. They expected that Quincy and Tom and other students would complete the party. Not so, as events proved. Dupont and Kidder, immaculately dressed, had for companions two waitresses at a well-known Cambridge cafe, two Harvard Square hairdressers, and a number of individuals whose dress and general appearance indicated physical strength rather than mental powers. Dupont and Kidder went out at the end of the first act and did not return.

The next time that Tom met Fred Dupont he asked,

"Do you believe in the Declaration of Independence?"

"My great-grandfather signed it," said Dupont proudly.

"How does it read?" asked Tom--"something about men being born free and equal--a barber's as good as a millionaire's son--isn't it?"

"It's all right," replied Dupont, "Kidder and I only took one bell to the theatre, but you kindly supplied us with two. Nothing's too good for us at that cafe now, and we've invited Kitty and May to go to the theatre with us to-morrow night."

"It's no use, Quincy," said Tom. "Dupont and Kidder took their medicine as patiently as we did, and they liked it so well they're going to have more of it."

Then he told Quincy what Dupont had said.

"The victory's ours," cried Quincy. "That shows that Americans, rich or poor, are democratic at heart. All that keeps them apart is the foolish idea that the possession of money lifts them above their fellows. Put them on a money equality, and only the very exclusive ones will care about the colour of their blood. It was a good lesson for Dupont and Kidder whose fathers are wealthy men, and they have wisely profited by it."

"Then you don't believe in social castes?" said Tom.

"Why should I? My father married a poor girl and I don't expect to find my wife on Beacon Street or Commonwealth Avenue."

After Tom had asked his question the thought came to him that if Quincy had believed in social distinctions on account of wealth he would not have chosen the son of a cotton weaver as his boon companion, but it was too late to take back the question, and Quincy had answered it.

The four years of study were at an end. Quincy was loaded with scholastic honours while Tom's prowess has been most effectually shown on the ball team and in the 'Varsity Eight, which came near winning a trophy for the Crimson.

Just before Cla.s.s Day, Quincy went into the office of Sawyer, Crowninshield, Lawrence & Merry to see Harry Merry about some matters connected with his income.