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When Ralph Mainwaring and Mr. Whitney arrived at the club they found young Mainwaring already awaiting them at their private table, but it was far from a social group which sat down to dinner that evening.
Through the whole state stretches the granite backbone of the Sierra Nevadas with its highest crest or ridge at the head-waters of the Kings and Kern rivers near Fresno. Here Mount Whitney and a dozen other great peaks of the High Sierras or California Alps lift their heads over thirteen thousand feet in the air.
Whitney, who still lingered within doors, engaged in drawing up some papers of which no one seemed to understand the import, excepting Houston, who had just left the gentlemen to join the group outside. It was a strikingly beautiful picture; Mrs. Cameron seated in the center, with her sweet face and snow-white hair, and on either side a lovely daughter.
Whitney was gnawing her palms with her nails and her lip with her teeth. She could scarcely restrain herself from seizing her daughter and shaking the truth, whatever it was, out of her. But prudence and respect for her daughter's delicate soul restrained her. "You have made it doubly hard for me," Janet went on.
"I was trying to read, to keep my mind occupied, as you asked me, when Juanita told me that there was some one in the living room who wanted to see me a man. I thought it was either you or Mr. Jameson. But it was Professor Norton " Kennedy and I exchanged glances. That was the action in revenge to Lockwood and Whitney which he had contemplated over the telephone.
Whitney best liked, and then stood off a bit and beamed at her. "It's dreadfully selfish in me to keep you," said Mrs. Whitney, "when you love your work so; and what will the music scholars do, Polly?" "Oh, they are all right," said Polly gaily, "they're working like beavers. Indeed, Aunty, I believe they'll practice a great deal more than if I were home to be talking to them all the while."
Percy and Van rushed too, knocking over so many things that they didn't help much; and little Dick poked his head out from Mrs. Pepper's arms when he saw his mamma sitting down to stay and began to scramble down to get into her lap. "There now," said Mrs. Whitney, smiling over at Mrs. Pepper, who was smiling at her. "You have your baby, and I have mine! Now children, what's it all about?
"I wouldn't go in there again," she advised. "Wait until the coroner comes." "The coroner?" staring stupidly at her. "Yes, hadn't you better send for him?" Whitney's hands dropped to his side with a hopeless gesture. "The coroner," he muttered. "God help us!" "Winslow!" Mrs. Whitney appeared in the doorway, tears streaming down her white cheeks.
Coroner Penfield cleared his throat. "Was Mr. Spencer a welcome guest in your house?" "Certainly; otherwise I should not have invited him," replied Whitney, with quiet dignity. "Let me amend my question." The coroner laid down his pencil. "Was Mr. Spencer on a friendly footing with each member of your household?" "I have every reason to believe he was." "Was Mr.
Hah, here comes Mr Whitney! Poor Russell! has he been long like this?" "Yes, sir; all the time since the Yankees came off in their boat and surprised us." "Then you you Why, Mr Vandean, you don't mean to say you've been in command all the time?" "Yes, sir," said Mark, modestly. "Fillot has been my first lieutenant." "Humph! the forecastle joker, eh?" said Mr Staples, grimly.
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