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Updated: May 24, 2025
But he was disarmed at the outset. The Senator's spirit was broken. He admitted everything; said nought in palliation. He could have taken no better line. When Mrs. Carshaw hastened back, fearing lest her plans might be upset, she found her son giving Winifred's chief persecutor a stiff dose of brandy. The tragedy of Smith's Pier was allowed to sink into the obscurity of an ordinary occurrence.
Will you kindly explain how it arose?" Clancy, great as ever on such occasions, refrained from saying: "I told you so." "We'll call up the agent Monday, just for the sake of thoroughness," he said. "Meanwhile, be ready to come with me to East Orange to-morrow at 8 A.M." "Why not to-night?" urged Carshaw, afire with a rage to be up and doing. "What? To sleep there?
No one will say a word if you hug her as hard as you like." Carshaw, agreeing to aught but delay, promised ruefully not to interfere. When the river police were at hand a nod brought several powerfully built officers closing in on the main gangway of the Wild Duck. The police-captain, in uniform, accompanied Steingall on board. A deck hand hailed them and asked their business.
As a matter of fact, Winifred nearly broke down at sight of her empty abode. It was a cheerless place at best, and now the thought of being left there alone had induced a sense of feminine helplessness which overcame her utterly. Carshaw was distinctly impressed.
This harmless little angel has been driven out of her Paradise in the hope that her butterfly wings may be soiled by the rain and mud of Manhattan. Who sent you to her?" "Senator Meiklejohn," said Mrs. Carshaw defiantly. "What, that smug Pharisee! What was his excuse?" "He said you were the talk of the clubs that Helen Tower " "She, too! Thank you. I see the drift of things now.
At last arrived a telegram from Burlington, Vermont. "Come and see me. Clancy." Grown wary by experience, Carshaw ascertained first that Clancy was really at Burlington. Then he instructed Miss Goodman to telegraph to him in the north, and quitted New York by the night train. In the sporting columns of an evening paper he read of the sale of his polo ponies.
"I don't know perhaps we shall see," she stammered. Which was not so bad for a novice. They parted with a warm hand-shake. Ten minutes later Carshaw was in a telephone booth with Clancy's ear at the other end of the wire. "I have just had a chat with Miss Bartlett," he began. "Tut, tut! How passing strange!" cackled the detective. "The merest chance in the world, I'm sure." "Yes.
That girl is no more the niece of her 'aunt' than I am her nephew." "But one is usually the niece of one's aunt." "I think you need a cigarette," said Clancy dryly. "Organisms accustomed to poisonous stimulants often wilt when deprived too suddenly of such harmful tonics." Carshaw edged around slightly and looked at this quaint detective. "I apologize," he said contritely.
He passed the typed slip to the detective. "Meaning?" said the latter, after a quick glance. Carshaw explained. "I'll find her," he added, with a catch of the breath. "I must find her. God in Heaven, man, I'll go mad if I don't!" "Cut out the stage stuff," said Clancy. "By this day week the Bureau will find a bunch of girls who're not lost yet only planning it."
"But suppose I tell you what I firmly believe that you have seen him; that it was his face which bent over you in your half-sleep the other night, and his voice which you heard?" "I always thought that it was no dream," said Winifred. "It was not a nice face." "And remember, Winifred," urged Carshaw earnestly, "that to-day and to-morrow are your last chances.
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