"More'n likely."

"Was he very feeble when you saw him last?"

"I ain't seen him in more'n six months. He was failin' then. That's why he went to the city."

"Oh, I see. You did not see him when he arrived the last of March?"

"I was visitin' my sister up in Hornville when he come back unexpected-like. This ijiot Loeb says he wrote me to meet 'em at Spanish Falls but I never got the letter. Like as not the durn fool got the address wrong. I didn't know Mr. Curtis was home till I come back from my sister's three days later. The wust of it was that I had tooken the automobile with me,--to have a little work done on her, mind ye,--an' so they had to hire a Ford to bring him up from the Falls. I wouldn't 'a' had it happen fer fifty dollars." Peter's tone was convincingly doleful.

"And he has been confined to his room ever since? Poor old fellow! It's hard, isn't it?"

"It sure is. Seems like he'll never be able to walk ag'in. I was talkin' to his nurse only the other day. He says it's a hopeless case."

"Fortunately his sister can be here with him."

"By gosh, she ain't nothin' like him," confided Peter. "She's all fuss an' feathers an' he is jest as simple as you er me. Nothin' fluffy about him, I c'n tell ye. Course, he must 'a' had a screw loose some'eres when he made sich a botch of that house up there, but it's his'n an' there ain't no law ag'in a man doin' what he pleases with his own property." He sighed deeply. "I'm jest as well pleased to go as not," he went on. "Mrs. Collier's got a lot o' money of her own, an'

she's got highfalutin' New York ideas that don't seem to jibe with mine. Used to be a time when everything was nice an' peaceful up here, with Sally Perkins doin' the cookin' and her daughter waitin' table, but 'tain't that way no more. Got to have a man cook an' men waitresses, an' a b.u.t.teler. An' it goes ag'in the grain to set down to a meal with them hayseeds from Italy. You never saw sich table manners."

He rambled on for some minutes, expanding under the soulful influence of his own woes and the pleasure of having a visible auditor instead of the make-believe ones he conjured out of the air at times when privacy afforded him the opportunity to lament aloud.

At any other time Barnes would have been bored by such confidences as these. Now he was eagerly drinking in every word that Peter uttered.

His lively brain was putting the whole situation into a nutsh.e.l.l.

a.s.suming that Peter was not the most guileful person on earth, it was quite obvious that he not only was in ignorance of the true state of affairs at Green Fancy but that he was to be banished from the place while still in that condition.

Long before they came to the turnpike, Barnes had reduced his hundred and one suppositions to the following concrete conclusion: Green Fancy was no longer in the hands of its original owner for the good and sufficient reason that Mr. Curtis was dead. The real master of the house was the man known as Loeb. Through O'Dowd he had leased the property from the widowed daughter-in-law, and had established himself there, surrounded by trustworthy henchmen, for the purpose of carrying out some dark and sinister project.

Putting two and two together, it was easy to determine how and when O'Dowd decided to cast his fortunes with those of the leader in this mysterious enterprise. Their intimacy undoubtedly grew out of a.s.sociation at the time of the Balkan Wars. O'Dowd was a soldier of fortune. He saw vast opportunities in the scheme proposed by Loeb, and fell in with it, whether through a mistaken idea as to its real character or an active desire to profit nefariously time only would tell. Green Fancy afforded an excellent base for operations. O'Dowd induced his sister to lease the property to Loeb,--or he may even have taken it himself. He had visited Mr. Curtis on at least two occasions.

He knew the place and its advantages. The woman known as Mrs. Collier was not the sister of Curtis. She--but here Barnes put a check upon his speculations. He appealed to Peter once more.

"I suppose Mrs. Collier has spent a great deal of time up here with her brother."

"First time she was ever here, so far as I know," said Peter, and Barnes promptly took up his weaving once more.

With one exception, he decided, the entire company at Green Fancy was involved in the conspiracy. The exception was Miss Cameron. It was quite clear to him that she had been misled or betrayed into her present position; that a trap had been set for her and she had walked into it blindly, trustingly. This would seem to establish, beyond question, that her capture and detention was vital to the interests of the plotters; otherwise she would not have been lured to Green Fancy under the impression that she was to find herself among friends and supporters. Supporters! That word started a new train of thought. He could hardly wait for the story that was to fall from her lips.

Peter swerved into the main-road. "Guess I c'n hit her up a little now," he said.

"Take it slowly, if you please," said Barnes. "I've had one experience in this car, going a mile a minute, and I didn't enjoy it."

"You never been in this car before," corrected Peter.

"Is it news to you? Day before yesterday I was picked up at this very corner and taken to Hart's Tavern in this car. The day Miss Cameron arrived and the car failed to meet her at Spanish Falls."

"You must be dreamin'," said Peter slowly.

"If you should have the opportunity, Peter, just ask Miss Cameron,"

said the other. "She will tell you that I'm right."

"Is she the strange young lady that come a day er so ago?"

"The extremely pretty one," explained Barnes.

Peter lapsed into silence. It was evident that he considered it impossible to continue the discussion without offending his pa.s.senger.

"By the way, Peter, it has just occurred to me that I may be able to give you a job in case you are let out by Mr. Curtis. I can't say definitely until I have communicated with my sister, who has a summer home in the Berkshires. Don't mention it to Mr. Curtis. I wouldn't, for anything in the world, have him think that I was trying to take you away from him. That is regarded as one of the lowest tricks a man can be guilty of."

"We call it ornery up here," said Peter. "I'll be much obliged, sir.

Course I won't say a word. Will I find you at the Tavern if I get my walkin' papers soon?"

"Yes. Stop in to see me to-morrow if you happen to be pa.s.sing."

There was additional food for reflection in the fact that Peter was allowed to conduct him to the Tavern alone. It was evident that not only was the garrulous native ignorant of the real conditions at Green Fancy, but that the opportunity was deliberately afforded him to proclaim his private grievances to the world. After all, mused Barnes, it wasn't a bad bit of diplomacy at that!

Barnes said good night to the man and entered the Tavern a few minutes later. Putnam Jones was behind the desk and facing him was the little book-agent.

"h.e.l.lo, stranger," greeted the landlord. "Been sashaying in society, hey? Meet my friend Mr. Sprouse, Mr. Barnes. Sic-em, Sprouse! Give him the d.i.c.kens!" Mr. Jones laughed loudly at his own jest.

Sprouse shook hands with his victim.

"I was just saying to our friend Jones here, Mr. Barnes, that you look like a more than ordinarily intelligent man and that if I had a chance to buzz with you for a quarter of an hour I could present a proposition---"

"Sorry, Mr. Sprouse, but it is half-past eleven o'clock, and I am dog-tired. You will have to excuse me."

"To-morrow morning will suit me," said Sprouse cheerfully, "if it suits you."

CHAPTER XI

MR. SPROUSE ABANDONS LITERATURE AT AN EARLY HOUR IN THE MORNING

After thrashing about in his bed for seven sleepless hours, Barnes arose and gloomily breakfasted alone. He was not discouraged over his failure to arrive at anything tangible in the shape of a plan of action. It was inconceivable that he should not be able in very short order to bring about the release of the fair guest of Green Fancy. He realised that the conspiracy in which she appeared to be a vital link was far-reaching and undoubtedly pernicious in character. There was not the slightest doubt in his mind that international affairs of considerable importance were involved and that the agents operating at Green Fancy were under definite orders.

Mr. Sprouse came into the dining-room as he was taking his last swallow of coffee.

"Ah, good morning," was the bland little man's greeting. "Up with the lark, I see. It is almost a nocturnal habit with me. I get up so early that you might say it's a nightly proceeding. I'm surprised to see you circulating at seven o'clock, however. Mind if I sit down here and have my eggs?" He pulled out a chair opposite Barnes and coolly sat down at the table.

"You can't sell me a set of d.i.c.kens at this hour of the day," said Barnes sourly. "Besides, I've finished my breakfast. Keep your seat."

He started to rise.

"Sit down," said Sprouse quietly. Something in the man's voice and manner struck Barnes as oddly compelling. He hesitated a second and then resumed his seat. "I've been investigating you, Mr. Barnes," said the little man, unsmilingly. "Don't get sore. It may gratify you to know that I am satisfied you are all right."

"What do you mean, Mr.--Mr.--?" began Barnes, angrily.

"Sprouse. There are a lot of things that you don't know, and one of them is that I don't sell books for a living. It's something of a side line with me." He leaned forward. "I shall be quite frank with you, sir. I am a secret service man. Yesterday I went through your effects upstairs, and last night I took the liberty of spying upon you, so to speak, while you were a guest at Green Fancy."