"Mr. Roddy," said Judge Colfax, holding out his hand, "I know of you very well and of your work on this case."

"Too bad!" said Roddy,--"the outcome?"

"I express no opinion," the Judge answered in a weary voice.

"The prisoner lost no time in finding liquor again," said the other. "He went to a bar before he went to his baby."

This reached the Judge. His eyes snapped. There was a low growling in his throat.

"Margaret," said he to me, "bring this gentleman some brandy. You will rest here a while, Mr. Roddy. I suppose you will not leave until the eleven-thirty train."

"Thank you. I'm played out," said the reporter. "I thank you."

And so it was that, with many a queer thought in my head, I sat in the kitchen rocker, listening to the mumble of their voices and waiting up to see if they should want me for anything. And so it was, too, that at last I found myself nodding with sleep, and started to go upstairs to bed.

Call me superst.i.tious if you like, but I know well enough that some of us humans can feel the whisper of evil and terror before it reaches us.

It spoke to me on those dark back stairs with the moonlight shining on the wall at the top, and I was brought up sharp and wide awake, when the air rang with it as if it was a bell.

"You're half asleep, you old fool," I said, feeling the sweat start out on my forehead, and I repeated it to myself when I was in my room and turning down the bedclothes.

CHAPTER III

A VISITOR AT NIGHT

A nice breeze was blowing in from the meadows, cooling the hot night, and finally, when I was laughing at my nervousness, I went to the window and leaned on the sill. It was a very peaceful scene, I can tell you, with that long stretch of gra.s.s and daisies and the water, and the light, carried through the factory yard up the river, bobbing along as the watchman pa.s.sed one window after another. All but the apple trees!

They seemed as horrible as ever, and a dozen times I thought I saw men without heads, or with long arms like apes, creeping and skulking from one shadow to another. At last I felt my eyes sore with staring at them, and I turned away.

Just then I heard the knocking at the back door. It was soft and careful at first and then a little louder.

"Some one from up the street to ask me questions," said I, feeling my way down the stairs, but then I caught the sound of something that I thought was the mewing of a cat. If I had had any sense I would have called to the Judge before I slid the bolt and opened the door.

The thing I saw was a little bundle of white clothing. At first it looked so white it seemed to give off a light and I thought it was hanging in the air. Then I saw two hands were holding it, and that it was a child.

"I want to see the Judge," said a thick, evil voice. "I've got a joke for him--the best joke he ever had played on him."

"And who are you?" I asked.

"Oh, he'll see me all well enough," said the man, with a heave of his shoulders. "I'm John Chalmers!"

I could not speak. I stepped back and he came in. He must have heard the voices in the study. But I can hardly say what happened. I only know that I found myself standing behind him and that I saw him put the baby into a chair and heard him cough.

The two men--the Judge and Mr. Roddy--looked up, and I never saw two such faces.

"Stare!" said the terrible creature. "Well you may! Go ahead and stare, for all the good it will do you. I know you both. Both of you wanted me hung, didn't you? You're clever men--you two. But I'm cleverer than you.

The joke is on you."

"You came in?" asked the Judge in a whisper, as if he didn't believe his eyes.

"Yes, and I'd have come in the front door if the people, with their b.u.t.terplate eyes, weren't watching me wherever I go. Oh, don't think I'm crazy with drink. No! I'm clever."

The Judge and Mr. Roddy had stood up and the Judge could not seem to find a word to say, but Mr. Roddy clenched his freckled fists.

"What yer want?" he said.

"I came to tell you," said Chalmers, "that the joke is on you. I didn't expect the pleasure of seeing you, Roddy, my fine penny-a-liner. But you're in this, too. The joke is on you. I've been acquitted."

"What of it?" the Judge said.

"I can't be tried twice for the same crime, can I? Didn't my lawyer tell me? I guess I know my rights. Ho, ho, the joke is on you, Judge. I saw your eyes looking at me for a week. I knew you would like to see me hung and Roddy there,--he nearly got me. But I'm safe now--safe as you are."

The reporter laughed a little--a strange laugh.

"You killed her, after all?" he asked.

"Yes," answered the other in a husky and cheerful voice. "I did. That's where the joke is on you. I did the trick! Me! And what have you two got to say? Who takes the bacon--me or you?"

"You don't know what you say," the Judge cried.

"Yes, I do," roared the man. "I tell you I did the trick and got tried once, and I'm free forever. There isn't anybody can touch me. I tell you the joke is on you, because I did it."

I could see Mr. Roddy's green eyes grow narrow then. He turned to the Judge.

"Is that so?" he asked. "He can't be arrested again?"

The Judge shook his head. I can see this minute how his face looked.

"Well," said Mr. Roddy, with a long sigh, "I'm beat! I've seen a lot of criminals in my day. Some were very clever. The joke is on me, Chalmers, for I'm obliged to say that you are the cleverest, slickest person I've ever seen, and you beat me! I've a lot of respect for you, Chalmers.

Here's my fist--shake!"

The other walked to meet him and they clasped hands in the middle of the room. It was only for a second; for as quick as a flash, Mr. Roddy seemed to stiffen every muscle in his body. He pulled the other man toward him with one arm and shot out his other fist. It made a dull sound like a blow struck on a pan of dough. And the wretched murderer slumped down onto the floor like a sack of bran, rolled over on his back, and was still.

"There!" said Mr. Roddy, with his cheerful smile.

The Judge had jumped forward, too, with a shout.

"Just a minute, Judge," said the reporter. "Let me explain. You remember that I found out that two years ago our clever friend was at Bridgeport.

That summer a girl was found in the park there--murdered. I was on the case. They never found out who did it. Have we or have we not just heard the confession of the man who killed her?"

"You mean to testify that this brute confessed to that other murder?"

asked the Judge, choking out the words. "You mean to hang this man for a crime he never committed?"

"Why not?" asked Mr. Roddy. "It's between us and it can be done. It's justice, isn't it?"

"My G.o.d!" said the Judge. He began to bite his knuckles as if he was tempted sorely enough.