“I can’t suspect the Thorpes or Mr. Stebbins,” Peterson finally declared: “I did think I could, but though Eli did cut up some tricks, they were harmless and merely in fun. And, too, he has absolute alibis for all the spook appearances after a certain date. And that’s the date when that Miss Carnforth saw a ghost. As near as I can make out, that ghost was Stebbins himself, but no spooks after that was Stebbins’ doings. Now, I give you that straight and simple, Mr. Wise, but it took me a long time to ferret it out. I suspected it, but I’ve had hard work to get Stebbins to admit his tricks, and also to check up his alibis after that particular night.”
“These perfectly attested alibis are sometimes manufactured very carefully,” said Zizi, fixing her black eyes on Peterson.
“Yes, they are. That’s why I checked up Eli’s so carefully. But they’re all true. I’ve got an exact list of the spook performances from the people at the house. I got the data from different ones, at different times, so’s to be sure they were all there. Then, I looked up Stebbins’ whereabouts on each occasion, and as I tell you, after the night he owns up to playing ghost, he never did it again.”
“Then did he arrange for the Thorpes or one of the waiting-maids to do it?” queried Zizi.
“That I can’t say. I think he must have done so, but I can’t find a scrap of proof, nor is there any motive. Stebbins is a good old sort and he honestly wanted to give his tenants the ha’nts, as he calls ’em, that they wanted. But why, on this good green earth, he should want to kill two of them is unanswerable. No, take it from me, Eli Stebbins is no murderer. I’ve looked up his record and his life story, and there’s no indication that he knew any of these people before they came up here, so he couldn’t have had any old grudge or family feud or anything of that sort. Stebbins isn’t the criminal, no sir-ee!”
“I never thought he was,” said Wise, quietly. “You’ve done good work Mr. Peterson, and you’ve saved me a heap of trouble in getting these facts so undeniably established. I thank you, and I shall be glad of your coöperation in my further work.”
“Good for you, I’ll be right down glad to work with you. And this young lady, Mr. Wise, is she one of us?”
“She is us,” returned Wise, simply. “Don’t bother about her, Mr. Peterson, she’s the sort that looks after herself. Report to me, please, if you discover anything new.”
CHAPTER XV
Tracy’s Story
“Now I wouldn’t say,” Wise observed, “that there is no such thing as occult phenomena——”