“Well,” said Stone, in a business-like way, “I think our next one to confer with must be Mr. Keefe.”
CHAPTER XVIII
A FINAL CONFESSION
Inquiry for Keefe brought the information that he had gone to a nearby town, but would be back at dinner-time.
Mr. Appleby was also expected to arrive for dinner, coming from home in his motor car.
But in the late afternoon a severe storm set in. The wind rose rapidly and gained great velocity while the rain fell steadily and hard. Curtis Keefe arrived, very wet indeed, though he had protecting clothing. But a telephone message from Sam Appleby said that he was obliged to give up all idea of reaching Sycamore Ridge that night. He had stopped at a roadhouse, and owing to the gale he dared not venture forth again until the storm was over. He would therefore not arrive until next day.
“Lucky we got his word,” said Mr. Wheeler. “This storm will soon put many telephone wires out of commission.”
When Keefe came down at the dinner hour, he found Maida alone in the living-room, evidently awaiting him.
“My darling!” he exclaimed, going quickly to her side, “my own little girl! Are you here to greet me?”
“Yes,” she said, and suffered rather than welcomed his caressing hand on her shoulder. “Curtis, I told them you would tell them who killed Mr. Appleby.”
“So I will, dearest, after dinner. Let’s not have unpleasant subjects discussed at table. I’ve been to Rushfield and I’ve found out all the particulars that I hadn’t already learned, and—I’ve got actual proofs! Now, who’s a cleverer detective than the professionals?”