“For the love of God, son—don’t look at me that way! Wait till I have told you all. I thought you were already in London—with Noreen. I was in Italy, and they never would have let me reach here. I never could have seen her—or Cheer Street again.”
Pity came to Routledge. He looked down upon the wreck of Jerry Cardinegh. He caught up his own nerve-ends and bound them together, smiled, and placed his hand upon the old man’s knee.
“How often I have found it,” he said musingly, “that a day like yesterday portends great events. I had the queerest sort of a day yesterday, Jerry. Hour after hour I sat here, neglecting things which needed doing, thinking, thinking. I have found it so before in my life—days like yesterday preceding a crisis.... Weren’t any of the other boys suspected, or any of the soldiers? Why was it that the finger of the episode pointed to you or me?”
“Since October the whole occult force of the Empire has been upon the case,” Cardinegh answered. “It was a civilian job on the face of it. That was incontrovertible. All the other boys fell under the eyes of the service. They didn’t know it, of course, but each day of the past four months we have been covered, our pasts balanced. One after another, the process of elimination vindicated them—all but you and me. Your infernal habit of campaigning alone was against you, your being an American, your Brahmin affiliations, your uncanny knowledge of the Great Inside. Still, they took nothing for granted. At Naples two agents drew me to cover, demanding what I knew. It was you or I. They knew it, and I knew it. The bulk of suspicion leaned your way. I shaped more evidence against you, hinted that I could secure your confession, if they only let me alone until I could get to you.”
“Tell me again just why, Jerry.”
“Because I wanted a day—just one day! I hadn’t seen Noreen for nearly a year. I wanted a day with her. I needed to arrange her affairs. God help me, Routledge, I wanted her to love the old man—one more day! I couldn’t cable you. I thought—I thought you would hold the weight one day—for old sake’s sake!”
“And what do you propose to do, Jerry?”
“I have had my day. I am going to the War Department with the facts this morning!”
“And then?”
“Vanish.”