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I was in the locker-room of the country-club, getting dressed after the best afternoon of golf I had ever had. I had just beaten Paisley "one-up" in eighteen holes of the hardest kind of sledding. If you knew Paisley you'd understand just why I was so glad to beat him.
He had planned to have it out with Jim at the country-club, knowing it would be a cold damp night and that few people would be out there. He had emphatically stated that Jim should come alone and should be there promptly at half-past eight. All those facts pointed to the man's guilt and I felt sure that in some way I should be able to unearth the proof.
Even Jerry Haight, who belonged more distinctly to the "country-club set," and who had spent the early part of that winter shooting elk in Oregon, was among the ranks of the "rovers," who grouped themselves about the draughty doorways, and endeavored to appear unconscious each time Ridgeway gave the signal for a "break." The figures had gone round the hall once.
So I determined that Mary should spend as much time as possible at the hospital, feeling sure the reporters would not be allowed in the room where Helen lay, battered and unconscious. As for me, I wanted to get to the bridge on the Blandesville Road as quickly as possible and from there to the country-club to inquire what Woods had done the night before.
An idea came to me suddenly and I called Up Pickering at the Benefit Insurance Company. "This is Thompson speaking, Pickering," I said. "Yes." "Do you remember if an automobile passed you on the night of the Felderson murder, going toward the country-club?" "No." "Do you mean you don't remember?" "No, I remember perfectly. There was only one automobile passed us and that was the black limousine."
"Had he had any previous matrimonial ventures?" "No, none. Of course he had had love affairs, mostly with the country-club set. He had known Miss Laporte pretty well, too, while he was in law school in New York. But when he settled down to work he seems to have forgotten all about the girls for a couple of years or so. He was very anxious to get ahead, and let nothing stand in his way.
They were together everywhere until the day she went away; they danced and 'sat out' together through the whole of one country-club party; they drove every afternoon; they took long walks, and he was at the Sherwoods' every evening of her last week in town. 'That is a mistake!" "I'm afraid it looks rather bleak for Wetherford," said the widower.
"Are the others about?" continued the coroner. "One of 'em is," said the mechanic, "and he just loves to answer fool questions." The coroner laughed. "Excuse me, my friend, but I am in need of some important information. Will you tell me which one of the mechanicians was with Mr. Woods when he visited the country-club two weeks ago last Thursday night?"
There had been another exchange of visits, a tea at a country-club, an encounter at a hunt ball; there was even a rumour of an approaching dinner, which Mattie Gormer, with an unnatural effort at discretion, tried to smuggle out of the conversation whenever Miss Bart took part in it.
Where are you now?" He listened a moment. "I understand Eight-thirty promptly? I'll be there Yes, I understand I'll be there." He hung up the receiver and looked at me with twinkling eyes. "The shoe is beginning to pinch, Bupps. That was Woods. He asks me to meet him alone this evening at the country-club, at eight-thirty promptly.
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