Some hours later, when bestirring herself to retire, she laid her slim fingers for a moment upon her mother's forehead, withdrawing her hand with a suddenness that marked the swift quickening of questioning dread. But after all, if the Spectre be really confronting us, how certain is his presence! Instantly her intelligence was submerged by conviction.
With a thought of Mr. Converse flitting incongruously through her mind, it occurred to her that the closed door was locked for ever.
CHAPTER V
MR. SLADE RESIGNS
The third incident has to do with Mr. William Slade. With the cold days of January, there came over him a noticeable change; quite suddenly—in a day—he seemed to have aged, to have shrunk and become doddering. It was an effort for him to climb the one flight of stairs to Room 6, and when once there, a still greater effort to go about his business. He began to be late of mornings and to commit trifling irregularities which, it was obvious, were due to a failing memory; the beady eyes—though with a waning brightness—regarded impartially and with open suspicion and hostility all who approached him—eyes unmistakably like a mouse's when that diminutive animal debates the chances of getting safely from one cover to another under the supervision of an alert cat.
The change was observed and commented upon in the main office across the hall. After much idle speculation one morning on the part of a clerk and the book-keeper as to the extent of Slade's wealth and its probable disposition in the event of his death, the book-keeper said:
"And there's another thing. Have you ever noticed him—" he cast a hasty, covert glance toward the entry door, and leaning suddenly forward, lowered his voice to a whisper,—"have you ever noticed him when he comes in or goes out of the abstract room—lately, I mean?"
The clerk shook his head.
"Well," impressively, "it makes me wonder if he didn't know something about that murder. You know, he was here that night. He never passes through his door now that he don't stop and look down the hall toward Doctor Westbrook's office. I bet nobody else has noticed it. That shows what it is to be observant; it's just little things like that that Sherlock Holmes worked out his wonderful cases by. I've seen Slade do it—look down the hall, I mean—many a time. He stands there just as if he heard or saw something. Queer, isn't it? And if any one comes up on him suddenly, he acts as though he had been caught doing something crooked, and hurries away."
If there's any virtue in old wives' saws, Mr. Slade's ears should have burned. Beyond, in the front office, overlooking Court Street, the abstracter was again a topic of discussion; but this time between personages no less important than the president, the secretary, and the treasurer of the Guaranty Abstract Company. At this conference it was decided that the company could thenceforth dispense with Slade's services, and it fell to the secretary so to inform him.