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Updated: June 9, 2025
They had hardly been at their posts a quarter of an hour before two officers came by. Some were for attacking them, but Sperry was of a contrary opinion. In the meanwhile they heard one of the gentlemen say to the other, There's D M , the Gamester, behind us, he has won at least sixty guineas to-night.
"You're the only woman in the world he has any real liking for," said Sperry, earnest and sincere. "Don't you ever doubt that, Mrs. Spenser." When they were seated in the café and he had ordered, he excused himself and Susan saw him make his way to a table where sat Fitzalan and another man who looked as if he too had to do with the stage.
Sperry turned to me when he had gone out. "That was Hawkins, Horace," he said. "You remember, don't you? The Wellses' butler." "I knew him at once." "He wrote to me asking for a position, and I got him this. Looks sick, poor devil. I intend to have a go at his chest." "How long has he been here?" "More than a week, I think." As I drank my tea, I pondered.
Then, suddenly, a bell that Sperry had placed on the stand beyond the black curtain commenced to ring. It rang at first gently, then violently. It made a hideous clamor. I had a curious sense that it was ringing up in the air, near the top of the curtain. It was a relief to have it thrown to the ground, its racket silenced. Quite without warning, immediately after, my chair twisted under me.
The coroner was apparently satisfied, and on Wednesday the dead man's body was cremated. "Thus obliterating all evidence," Sperry said, with what I felt was a note of relief. But I think the situation was bothering him, and that he hoped to discount in advance the second sitting by Miss Jeremy, which Mrs.
Barstow will not dare to force so outrageous a character upon a delicate, refined woman, in a familiar and confidential capacity." "That's so," said Sperry eagerly; "she'll settle it. And, of course," added the mill-owner, "that will leave us out of any difficulty with Sam."
"Hawkins has the letters! And the bag!" "Exactly," I commented dryly. "In other words, Hawkins was in Miss Jeremy's house when, at the second sitting, she told of the letters." I felt rather sorry for Sperry. He paced the room wretchedly, the two letters in his hand. "But why should he tell her, if he did?" he demanded. "The writer of that anonymous letter was writing for only one person.
Now and then, when she passed an acquaintance, she wondered if the pain and glory were written on her face. But Mrs. Sperry, who stopped her at the corner of Maverick Street to say a word about the next meeting of the Higher Thought Club, seemed to remark no change in her.
Much shaken, I went down the steps and gave Sperry a wooden toothpick, under the impression that it was a match. That rectified, we bent over the figure on the bricks. "Knocked out, for sure," said Sperry, "but I think it's not serious. A watchman, I suppose. Poor devil, we'll have to get him into the house." The lock gave way to manipulation at last, and the door swung open.
She smiled, shrugged her shoulders. Sperry small and thin, a weather-beaten, wooden face suggesting Mr. Punch, sly keen eyes, theater in every tone and gesture Sperry pushed the scenario hastily to completion and was so successful with Fitzalan that on Sunday afternoon he brought two hundred and fifty dollars, Spenser's half of the advance money.
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