In the woods he lit the cigar, carelessly throwing the band on the ground. Fifteen minutes later he was at the movies with the Grasslands help. When he saw in the papers that a light had been seen by the safe at one-thirty every fear he had died, for at that time he was back at Cedar Brook helping his landlady look after the sick child.
He was too smart a crook to disappear right on top of the robbery, and hung around saying he was looking for another place. He met up with Larkin but at first didn't know he was a detective. When the offer came from Ferguson he took it, intending to stay a while, then say his folks in the old country needed him and slip away to Spain. It was the day after he'd accepted Ferguson's offer that he learned what Larkin was, and saw that both he and the Janneys had their suspicions of Chapman Price. This disturbed him, but he couldn't throw up the job he'd just taken without exciting remark. To be ready, however, he dug up the jewels—he'd buried them in the woods—and put them handy under the flooring of his room.
One day, looking over Ferguson's things, he came on the cigar band in the box on the bureau. It gave him a jar, for he couldn't see why it was put there. He'd heard from the servants about Ferguson and Miss Maitland walking home that night through the woods and began to wonder if maybe they'd found the band. The thought ruffled him up considerably, and then he put it out of his mind, telling himself it was one from a cigar Ferguson had brought from Grasslands and smoked in his room. Nevertheless, to be on the safe side, he threw it away, very much on the alert, as you may guess.
It wasn't a week later that he had the interview with Ferguson about the band. Then he saw by the young man's manner and words why the little crushed circle of paper had a meaning of its own, and knew that the time had come to vanish. He still felt safe enough to do this without haste, not rousing any suspicion by a too sudden departure. His opportunity came quickly—on Friday morning he heard Ferguson tell the butler that he was going to town and would be away for a day or two; by the time he came back his valet would be far afield.
Right after Ferguson's departure he put the jewels in a bag, and, telling the butler the boss had given him the day and night off, prepared to leave. He was crossing the hall when the telephone rang—my message—and being wary of danger, answered it. It was only a lady asking for Mr. Ferguson, and, calm and steady as his voice had made me, started out for the station. Mice and men again!—I was the mouse this time. Gracious, what a battered mouse I was!
Well—that's all. The tangled threads are straightened out and the word "End" goes at the bottom of this page. I'm glad to write it, glad to be once again where you can say what you think, and talk to people like they were harmless human beings without any dark secrets in their pasts or presents, and, Oh, Gee, how glad I am to be home! Back in my own little hole, back where there's only one servant and she a coon, back where I'm familiar with the food and know how to eat it, and blessedest of all, back to my own true husband, who thinks there's no sun or moon or stars when I'm out of the house. I'm going to get a new rug for the parlor, a fur-trimmed winter suit, a standing lamp with a Chinese shade, a pair of skates—oh, dear, I'm at the bottom of the page and there's no room for "End," but I must squeeze in that I got that reward—Mrs. Janney said I'd earned every penny of it—and a wrist watch with a circle of diamonds round it from Dick Ferguson, and—oh, pshaw! if I keep on I'll never stop, so here goes, on a separate line
THE END
BOOKS BY GERALDINE BONNER
Miss Maitland, Private Secretary
Treasure and Trouble Therewith
The Girl at Central
The Black Eagle Mystery