BEGINNING THE INVESTIGATION.
"Well!"
It is Mr. Wedron, of the New York Bar, who utters this monosyllable. He sits at the library table in the little lawyer's sanctum; opposite him is his host, and a little farther away, stands Ray Vandyck; a living, breathing, gloomy faced but mute interrogation point. He has just been introduced to Mr. Wedron, and he is anxiously waiting to hear how these two men propose to save from the gallows, a man who will make no effort to save himself.
"Well!" repeats Mr. Wedron, "you have seen the prisoner?"
"We have seen him."
"And the result?"
"Was what you predicted. See, here in my note book, I have his very words; you can judge for yourself."
O'Meara passes his note book across to his questioner, and the latter reads rapidly, the short sentences scrawled by his host.
"So," he says, lifting his eyes from the note book. "Doctor Heath refuses to defend himself. Mr. Vandyck," turning suddenly upon Ray, "sit down, sir; draw your chair up here; I wish to look at you, sir."
Not a little astonished, but obeying orders like a veteran, Ray complies mutely.
"Now then," says Mr. Wedron, with brisk good nature, "let's get down to business. Mr. Vandyck, I am here to save Clifford Heath; I was at the inquest; I have had long experience in this sort of business, and I arrive at my conclusions rapidly, after a way of my own. O'Meara, prepare to write a synopsis of our reasonings."
"Of your reasonings," corrects the lawyer, drawing pen and paper toward himself.
"Of my reasonings then. First; are you ready, O'Meara?"
"All ready."
"Well, then; and don't stop to be astonished at anything I may say. First, Clifford Heath knows who stole his handkerchief; and who stole his knife."
A grunt of approbation from O'Meara; a stare of astonishment from Ray.
"For some reason, Heath has resolved to screen the thief." Scratch, scratch. "But he does not feel at all sure that the one who stole his belongings is the one who struck the blow."
Ray stares in astonishment.
"Now then, there has been a plot on foot against Heath, and I believe him to have been aware of it." He is looking at Ray, and that young man starts guiltily.
"Put down this, O'Meara," says Mr. Wedron, suddenly withdrawing his gaze. "Doctor Heath has nothing to blush for, in his past. He withholds his story through pride, not through fear; but it may be necessary to tell it in court, in order to prove that he did not know John Burrill previous to the meeting in Nance Burrill's cottage; and if he refuses to tell his story, I must tell it for him."
It is O'Meara's turn to be surprised, and he writes on with eager eyes and bated breath.
"And now, O'Meara," concludes Mr. Wedron, "there were two parties sworn to-day, who did not tell all they knew concerning this affair. One was—Mr. Francis Lamotte."
Ray breathes again.
"The other was—Mr. Raymond Vandyck."
Ray colors hotly, and half starts up from his seat. O'Meara lays down his pen, and stares across at his contemporary, but that individual proceeds with unruffled serenity.
"Mr. Vandyck did not tell all that he knows, because he feared that in some way his testimony might be turned against Clifford Heath. Here he can have no such scruples. Our first step in this case, must be to find out who Clifford Heath suspects; and why he will not denounce him."
"And that bids fair to be a tough undertaking," says O'Meara.
"Not at all, Mr. O'Meara. I expect that this young man can give us all the help we need."
"I," burst out Ray. "You mistake, sir; I can not help you."
"Softly, sir; softly; reflect a little, this is no time for over-nice scruples; besides, I know too much already. We three are here to help Clifford Heath. Mr. Vandyck, can you not trust to our discretion; you may be able, unknown to yourself, to speak the word that will free your friend from the foulest charge that was ever preferred against a man. Will you answer my questions frankly, or—must we set detectives to hunt for the information you could so easily give?"
