CHAPTER XXVII

IN THE TOILS

It was with a heavy heart that Lois made her way slowly toward the house. She felt that many changes would take place before she would again see Jasper. Not for an instant did she consider him guilty of murdering old David. But she was well aware that others would think differently, and would be only too ready to condemn Jasper upon the slightest evidence. An idea suddenly flashed into her mind, which caused her heart to beat quicker. Some one was guilty of the murder, and that person must be found, whoever and wherever he was. Was there not something that she could do? she asked herself. Jasper must be saved, and who else would take such a real heart interest in the matter as herself? She knew that a woman was not expected to undertake work of such a nature. But Lois Sinclair had very little respect for social customs if they stood in the way of duty.

During the day she had thought much about the murder and had tried to unravel the mystery connected with it. Who was there in the place likely to commit such a cowardly deed, and what would be his motive?

Old David had not an enemy, as far as she knew, and he had injured no one. It was necessary for her to probe deeper still, and as she neared the house her mind brooded over this question. She chided herself that she had not asked Jasper's opinion. Perhaps he had some suspicion, for even upon the slightest clue important results might depend.

Lois had reached the steps leading to the verandah when she happened to stop and look down toward the river. As she did so, she started, for there near the sh.o.r.e, with his easel before him, was Sydney Bramshaw.

Had she known of the stormy scene which had taken place between him and Jasper about an hour before she would have been more surprised to see him where he was. He was seated facing the house, and thus could observe all that took place about the building. If he saw Lois he gave no sign of recognition, but seemed to be entirely occupied with his work.

The sight of this man had a remarkable effect upon Lois. She had seen him but little of late, and to behold him now when she was thinking so much about the murder was most startling. She entered the house as if nothing unusual were agitating her mind. But with the door closed behind her, she hurried upstairs, where she found Margaret sitting in her room engaged upon some fancy-work. It was a bright sunny room, and the girl sitting there by the open window presented a beautiful picture of peace and youthful charm.

"What is the matter, dear?" she asked, pausing in her work, as she noted the troubled expression upon Lois' face.

"Look," and Lois pointed toward the river, "there he is near the sh.o.r.e."

"Well, what of it?" Margaret enquired with a smile. "One would think that you had never seen a man before."

"But not such a man as that, Margaret," and Lois sat down by the girl's side. "Something tells me that he had much to do with the murder of poor old David."

"Whatever put such a foolish notion as that into your head?" and Margaret looked keenly into Lois' face.

"Sydney Bramshaw is merely a harmless artist, and wouldn't hurt a fly."

"So you have always said. You may be right, but my heart tells a different story, and it is hard for me not to believe it. I am going to find out, anyway, if there is any justification for my suspicion of that man."

"You!" and Margaret looked her astonishment. "Why, what can you do?"

"Perhaps nothing. Anyway, I am going to try. Something must be done at once if Mr. Randall is to be saved." Lois then told Margaret all about the finding of David, of the envelope lying near the body, and how the people were accusing Jasper of the murder.

When Mr. Sinclair and d.i.c.k came home they brought with them a copy of _The Evening News_, which contained a long account of the murder.

Lois' hand trembled as she took the paper and saw the big startling headlines. She feared lest Jasper's name should be mentioned in connection with the affair, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it did not appear. The article merely said that a certain person was suspected and that the detectives were working on the case.

"I'm afraid Spuds is in hot water," d.i.c.k remarked, as they all sat down to dinner.

"What makes you think that?" Lois asked in a voice as calm as possible.

"Oh, from what people are saying. It's known all over the country that he was with Crazy David that night, and that they left the Haven and walked along the road together. That in itself looks suspicious, for Spuds was the last person seen with old David."

"Who saw them together?" Lois enquired, "and how did that information get abroad?"

"The Petersons, I suppose, or that girl Betty told it."

"But do you suppose some one else saw them together? Have you thought of that?"

"I don't catch the drift of your meaning," and d.i.c.k looked enquiringly at his sister.

"Suppose there was some one else near the road that night watching Mr.

Randall and David as they walked along? And suppose, further, that when the old man was going back alone to the Haven some one had killed him?"

"Good heavens, Lois! you make my blood run cold. Why should you suggest such a thing?"

"But you don't believe that Mr. Randall killed David, do you?"

"No, no! I couldn't for a moment think that Spuds would do such a thing."

"Well, then, some one must have done it in a way similar to what I have said."

"Sure, I never thought of that. But who do you suppose did it?"

"That's for us to find out."

"Us?"

"Yes, why not? Isn't it right to stick by our friends in their time of need?"

"But what can we do?"

"That remains to be seen."

"But what about that envelope, Lois? How do you I suppose it got there? That looks queer, doesn't it?"

"That's another part of the mystery to be solved, that's all."

The next day was an exciting one, for all kinds of rumours were afloat, and at times Lois hardly knew what to believe. But there were several things about which there was no doubt. She learned that an inquest had been held over David's body, and that it had been decided that David Findlay had met his death at the hands of some unknown person or persons. There was nothing more left to be done but to give the body a decent burial.

The funeral was held that afternoon, and it seemed that the entire parish turned out. It was a fine mild summer day, but notwithstanding that the farmers left their fields and attended the funeral. Lois and Betty walked together to the church, and as they pa.s.sed Jasper's cabin they looked across the field, thinking they might see some one there.

But not a sign of life could they behold.

The service in the church was brief and solemn, and Betty found it very difficult to control her feelings. At the grave side she broke down completely, and Lois had to lead her away to a quiet spot.

"Poor Mr. David!" the girl moaned. "I shall never see him again. He was so good to me."

"There, there, dear," Lois soothed. "If he were alive he would not wish you to feel so badly. He is at rest, anyway."

"I know that, but I miss him so much. Oh, why was he taken?"

For some time they sat there, Betty sobbing out her grief, and Lois trying to sooth her, at the same time wondering what had become of Jasper. If he had not gone away it was strange that he was not at the funeral. The people leaving the grave pa.s.sed close to the spot where they were sitting, and many were the curious glances cast in their direction. Several women stopped to speak to them, among whom was Mrs.

Wadell, noted all over the parish for her fondness for gossip, as well as for meddling in the affairs of others.

"So ye feel bad, do ye?" and she fixed her piercing eyes upon Betty's tear-stained face. "I wouldn't feel bad fer such as him," and she jerked her thumb toward the grave.

"But I do," Betty protested. "He was good to me, and now he is gone."

"I guess ye'll like him better now that he's gone," Mrs. Wadell remarked. "I know I should, anyway, if he'd done as handsome by me as he's done by you."

"Why, what do you mean?" Betty asked in surprise.