Joe spoke in a whisper. “What crime, Uncle David?”
“Embezzlement. You heard that telephone talk of Landry’s? He’s lost heavily in the deal that wrecked Bruce. He’s probably lost money that didn’t belong to him—Allan’s money. Somebody has planned that Allan shall die. Is it the man who would be sure to become wealthy, or the man who might save himself from jail? Who undermined this bridge?” Without haste he knocked the ashes from his pipe. “Come, Joe; we’re going back.”
Once clear of the woodland Joe saw the house across the fields brilliant with lights. Sounds of merriment came from inside, and a dozen voices laughed and talked at once.
Dr. Stone spoke softly. “What are they doing, Joe? Eating?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Bruce and Mr. Landry?”
“I can’t see them. They’re not at the tab——I see them now. They’re coming this way toward the porch.”
“We’ll soon know,” the blind man said calmly. When Bruce and Alec Landry stepped from the house he sat in placid contentment, and the tawny shepherd dog lay at his feet.
“Allan’s holding places for you and Joe,” Alec Landry said.
The doctor shook his head. “I think I’ll stay here. This is a night when youth has a right to question the presence of gray hairs.”