It somehow
don't strike me this guy is going to bother her any more. I'm figuring
that he's out of it."
"But his partner?"
"Oh, we'll leave him somewhere propped up against a door. Likely he'll
never know what happened to him, or where. He ain't nothing to be afraid
of--just a butler with a cracked head. It's the other guy who has got the
brains. Come on; let's take a look out in the alley."
Their shadows vanished up the stairs, the glow of light disappearing, and
leaving the cellar in impenetrable darkness. West did not venture to
move, however, content to wait until thoroughly assured the way for
escape was clear. He had not learned much from this conversation, except
to increase his conviction that a serious crime was being consummated.
The full nature of this conspiracy was as obscure as ever; rendered even
more doubtful indeed by the active participation of Natalie Coolidge.
This was what puzzled and confused him the most. He could no longer
question her direct interest in the affair, or her willingness to assist
in overcoming his efforts. Even without the free testimony of the men
this fact was sufficiently clear. She had deliberately lied to him,
attempted deceit, and then, when he refused to yield to her efforts, had
so reported to Hobart, and left him to his fate. It was manifestly
impossible for him to believe in her any longer. Yet what could it all
mean? How could she hope to benefit by such an association? Why could she
thus shield the murderers of Percival Coolidge? What possible object
could there be in the commission of this crime, except to gain possession
of her own fortune? It was all mystery to his mind; a new unanswerable
question arising wherever he looked.
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