"A drunken man can't sling a stone with a steady hand like that," said Frank. "I did hear," he added with a sudden after-thought,—"that old Shadrach Pinnott's son, Tom—who my informant said was as drunk as a 'fraish b'iled owel,'—ain't that a lovely expression for a lovely state?—declared that the man who threw the stone was a lover of Tom's sister, Clotildy Pinnott—sweet name!—and was jealous of the manager fellow who had taught her to sing and dance in that dinky, dainty way. The manager is dead in love with her, too—so the discarded lover chews the rag, and holds the bag, and hurls the bolt."
Lucia, who had ceased her tears as she listened, pressing her handkerchief once and again to her eyes, as she was thrown, half reclining on one of the sofas, now began anew to sob nervously, and Jardine looked anxiously at Mrs. Laniston, as if commending the demonstration to her attention and ministrations. But Mrs. Laniston was eager for the news—she had had a dull evening at the hotel.
"Nefarious business," she commented.
"Of course," declared Frank. "Intent to commit murder. The man tried to kill Lloyd. If the manager hadn't been a ground-and-lofty-tumbler once in his career—he seems to have been some of everything—all 'round athlete—he couldn't have broken his fall by throwing somersaults—he would have been killed by the fall from such a height."
"But consider the frightful danger that Lucia was in, mamma," cried Ruth. "A little swerving to one side and the stone would have struck her head instead of his."
Frank's boyish red face grew grave and dismayed.
"Was the man in the settee beside Lucia?" he asked aghast, hearing this detail for the first time.
"But, for God's sake, don't mention it," said Mr. Jardine testily, rising from his chair and taking a nervous turn through the room. "If this miscreant should be captured and a trial ensue, it would be a most disagreeable, almost derogatory thing for her to have to give her testimony in open court under these circumstances. Don't—don't mention it."
"Certainly not," said Frank formally. "I shall bear your injunction in mind."
No one can so bitterly object to schooling as he who stands in need of it. In reality this phase of the possibilities had not occurred to the youth, and he fully appreciated the value of the warning. But he deprecated the tone, the possessory manner in which Mr. Jardine was playing the role of tutelary deity to the family. The interest of the subject, however, overpowered his rancour, and after a momentary pause he went on with an indignant sense of offended dignity. "But how in the name of all that is stylish did the manager of the Street Fair happen to be escorting Lucia?"