Nothing But the Truth

“But why should Mr. Bennett” – Gwendoline did not deign to address that young man direct – “have asked Dolly to do that?”

“Maybe,” suggested the monocle-man, “Mr. Bennett will answer that himself.”

“What’s the use?” said Bob. “Nobody believes anything I say.” Miss Gwendoline still acted as if she did not see him.

“If you take him to jail, I’m going too,” remarked the temperamental little thing. “If he’s guilty, I – ”

“You suggest, then, he is guilty?” said the monocle-man quickly.

“No; no! I – ”

“I fear you have suggested it,” he interrupted pointedly.

“If people confess do they get lighter sentences?” she asked with a quick breath.

“Usually,” said the monocle-man.

Jolly little pal pondered painfully. Perhaps she saw plainer than Bob how clear was the case against him. “Why don’t you?” she suggested.

Bob smiled feebly. “The answer I make is the same one I gave to Miss Gerald when I last spoke to her.”

A flame sprang to Gwendoline’s cheek.

“You dare say that now – with all this evidence against you?” She showed herself keenly aware of his presence now.

“I dare.” He stepped to her side and looked into her eyes. “My eyes are saying it now.”

The girl’s breast stirred quickly. Did she fear he would say those words aloud, before all the others? He was reckless enough to do so.

“Do you understand or shall I make it plainer?” he asked, swinging back his blond head.

“I do not think that will be necessary,” she answered with some difficulty.

“What is it all about?” said the hammer-man, and there was a slight frown on his brow.

“You ought to know,” returned Bob, as his eyes met swiftly the other’s. For a moment gaze encountered gaze. Bob’s now was sardonically ironical, yet challenging. The hammer-thrower’s was mystified. Then the latter shrugged.

“Is he mad as well as a – ” he spoke musingly.

“Thief,” said Bob. “Say it right out. I’m not afraid of the word.”

The hammer-thrower sighed heavily. “What are we to do?” he said to Miss Gerald sympathetically. “It is needless to say, you can command me.”

“Isn’t that lovely?” Sotto voce from Bob.

“I’m terribly afraid the affair has passed from the joke stage,” said Gwendoline Gerald and once more she appeared cool and composed. Again she made Bob feel he was but a matter for consideration – an intrusive and unwelcome matter that had to be disposed of. “What ought I to do?”

“Arrest me, of course,” returned Bob. “I’ve been waiting for it for some time. And the funny part is, the affair hasn’t passed from the joke stage. You know that.” To the hammer-man. “Why don’t you chuckle?”

“I suppose I may as well tell you I’m a bogus lord,” unexpectedly interrupted the monocle-man at this moment. “My name is not even a high-sounding one.” The hammer-thrower started slightly. “It’s plain Michael Moriarity. But I was once a lord’s valet.” He had dropped his drawl, though he still kept his monocle. “I am sorry to have intruded as a real personage among you all, although there are plenty of bogus lords floating through society.”

“Oh, you didn’t deceive me,” answered jolly little pal. “I knew who you were.”

“Well, you certainly hoodwinked the rest of us,” observed the hammer-thrower slowly. He stood with his head down as if thinking deeply. When he looked up, he gazed straight into the monocle-man’s eyes. They were twinkling and good-humored. An arrest in high society was rather a ceremonious affair. You didn’t take a man by the scruff of the neck and yank him to the patrol wagon. There were polite formalities to be observed. The end had to be accomplished without shocking or disturbing the other guests. The truly artistic method would, in fact, be the attainment of the result while the guests remained in absolute ignorance, for the time being, of what had been done.

“I’m afraid I’ve got to do my duty,” observed the monocle-man to Bob. “You look like a man who would play the game. A game loser, I mean?” Suggestively.

“Oh, I’m a loser all right,” said Bob, looking at the hammer-man. For a moment he wondered if he should speak further. He could imagine how his words would be received. He didn’t forget that he hadn’t a shadow of proof against the hammer-man. Miss Gerald would think he was accusing an innocent person and she would despise him (Bob) only the more – if that were possible. To speak would be but to court the contempt of the others, the laughter of the hammer-man. Bob’s thoughts were terribly confused but he realized he might as well remain silent; indeed, perhaps it would be better for the present.

“Anyhow, what I told you wasn’t so,” said jolly little pal to the monocle-man. “And I repeat I will never testify to it.” She was awfully dejected.

“Yes, you will,” said Bob monotonously. “As I told you, I won’t let you get into trouble.”

“Besides there’s all that other evidence,” suggested the monocle-man.

“I can explain that away,” returned Bob. Then he thought: Could he? Would Dan and Clarence stand by him now and acknowledge it was they he had let out of the house at that unseemly hour? He doubted it. Dickie, too, wouldn’t be very friendly. Their last conversation over the telephone was far from reassuring. “No; I am not sure that I can,” Bob added. He still had to remember he was the impersonation of Truth.

“You refer to Miss Gerald’s having seen you wandering about the house after the others had retired, I presume?” suggested the monocle-man, who was enjoying the conversation immensely. It was the kind of a situation he liked. He wouldn’t have curtailed it for the world. When the hammer-man heard the question, his brows lifted slightly. Surely a momentary glint of gladness or satisfaction shone from his gaze. But it receded at once. He listened attentively.

“Yes, I was referring to that,” answered Bob, gazing at Gwendoline. She, condemn him to a prison cell! She, swear away his liberty! He gazed wistfully, almost sadly at the sweet inexorable lips which might ruin his life. He didn’t feel resentful; he only determined to put up the best fight he could when the time came.

“Is – is it necessary to proceed to extremities?” said the hammer-man at this point sedulously. “Would not the mere fact that we all know about the matter be sufficient punishment?” He appealed to Miss Gerald. “My father used to tell me that when a man was down, if we could see the way to extend a helping hand, we would be doing the right thing. I think the world is becoming more tolerant and there is a tendency to give a person a chance to reform, instead of locking him up.”

Again Bob laughed. In spite of his unhappiness and that weight of melancholy, the other’s heavy humor tickled Bob’s funny bone. Think of the hammer-man pretending to try to keep Bob out of jail! Didn’t he know how to play his cards? The deadly joke was on Bob.

“Don’t appeal too hard in my behalf, old chap; you might strain yourself,” he said to the hammer-thrower.

But the hammer-thrower pretended not to hear. He kept his sedulous, humane glance on Miss Gerald.

“You mean you would have my aunt take no action in the matter?” she said, and the lovely face was now calm and thoughtful.

“Please do!” This from jolly little pal. “Dear, dear Gwendoline! It’ll be such a favor to me. And I’ll love you dearly.”

“You certainly are a very doughty champion of Mr. Bennett, Dolly,” observed Miss Gerald. There was a question in her look and her words might have implied that Bob had been making love to the temperamental little thing, even when he dared tell Miss Gerald he cared for her. Gwendoline’s face wore an odd smile now.

“I’m not interested for the reason you think,” answered the temperamental little thing spiritedly. “He never made love to me – real love. I tried to make him, because he is all that should appeal to any woman, but he wouldn’t,” she went on tempestuously, regardlessly. “And then we vowed we’d be pals and we are. And I’ll stand by him to the last ditch.”

“You are very loyal, dear,” said Gwendoline quietly.

“Besides, he’s in love with some one else,” she shot back, and Bob shifted. There was a directness about jolly little pal that was sometimes disconcerting.

The hammer-man looked quickly toward Miss Gerald, and his eyes were full of jealousy for an instant. He was not sorry that Bob was going to “get his.” Nevertheless, he would plead for him again, he wouldn’t cease to be consistent in his role.

“I’ll tell you who it is, too, if you want to know,” the temperamental little thing went on to Gwendoline.

“My dear, I haven’t asked. It seems to me,” coldly, “we are slightly drifting from the subject.”

“I believe you stated just now that you and Mr. Bennett vowed to be pals,” interposed the monocle-man regarding Miss Dolly. “Does that mean you agreed to be accomplices – to divide the ‘swag,’ in the parlance of the lower world?” The monocle-man was enjoying himself more and more. He was finding new interest in the scene. It was more “meaty” than he had dared hope.

“She doesn’t mean anything of the kind,” put in Bob savagely. “She just extended the hand of friendship. She’s a good fellow, that is all, and I won’t have you imply the slightest thing against her. You understand that, Mr. Bogus Lord?”

“I only asked a question,” observed the monocle-man humbly.

“Well, you’ve got the answer.” In the same aggressive manner. “She’s a – a brick and I won’t have any harm come to her on my account.”

“None of us would have any harm come to Dolly,” said Gwendoline coldly.

“I wanted him to elope with me, but he wouldn’t,” went on the temperamental little thing, thinking fast. Bob listened in despair. “I didn’t know then it was only friendship I felt. I thought it was love. And when he refused, I was furious. To be revenged, I went to that horrid man” – looking at him of the monocle – “and told him a pack of lies.”

“Lies?” said the monocle-man, smiling sweetly and screwing his glass in farther.

“Yes, and that’s the reason I shall give on the witness-stand.” Defiantly. “I’ll tell the truth there – let every one know how horrid and wicked I was.”

The monocle-man shook his head with mild disapproval. “What do you say to that, Mr. Bennett?” he asked softly.

“Of course I can’t let her do anything to incriminate herself,” answered Bob mournfully. “To prevent her doing so I shall have to avow right now – ? and I do” – firmly – “that those were not lies, but truths she told you.”

“Please! – please! – ” said jolly little pal piteously.

“Truths!” said Bob again boldly.

Miss Dolly gave a great sigh. “Are you going to confess you are guilty of all they charge?”

“I am not.” Stubbornly. “I am not guilty.”

“I’m rather afraid certain evidence, including Miss Dolly’s truths, which you acknowledge as such, might tend to show you are,” suggested the monocle-man.

Again Miss Dolly thought fast. Bob wouldn’t let her declare her accusations of him lies; therefore only one alternative remained.

“I have a confession to make,” she said solemnly.

Bob looked startled. “Don’t! – ” he began. He wondered into what new realm her inventive faculties would lead her.

“Mr. Bennett,” observed the monocle-man gravely, “I have to remind you that anything you say can be used against you. And your manner now, in seeking to restrain or interfere with what Miss Dolly has to say, will certainly hurt your case.”

Bob groaned. He cast hunted eyes upon Miss Dolly. The jolly little pal breathed hard, but there was a look of determination in the dark soulful eyes.

“Mr. Mike Something, or whatever your name is,” she said to the monocle-man in a low tense tone, “I am all that which you suggested.”

He overlooked the scornful mode of address. He rubbed his hands softly; his eyes were pleased. “You mean about agreeing to be accomplices and to divide the ‘swag’?”

“Yes.” Fatalistically.

Bob groaned again.

The temperamental little thing looked up in the air. She would be mainly responsible for sending Bob to jail – the thought burned. What was a treacherous but repentant pal’s duty under the circumstances? She had a vision, too, of those adjoining cells.

“You see,” she began dreamily, “my father is rather sparing of the spending money he allows me, and I have terribly extravagant tastes. Why, my hats alone cost a fortune. I simply have got to have nice and expensive things.” Again Bob groaned. Dolly dreamed on: “I’ve bushel-baskets of silk stockings, for example. See!” Displaying an exquisite ankle. “My gowns all come from Paris. Gwendoline can tell you that.” Miss Gerald did not deny. “And they’re not gowns from those side-street dressmakers, either. They come from the places on the rue de la Paix. Besides” – Dolly’s dream expanded – “I like to take things.” Another groan from Bob. “I think I’m a clepto.”

“There isn’t one word of truth in what she’s saying,” exclaimed Bob indignantly. “Why, it’s outrageous. She doesn’t realize what she’s doing.”

“Yes, I do,” returned little pal with a stanch and loyal glance. “Why should you take all the blame when I’m entitled to half of it?”

“You aren’t entitled to any of it,” he retorted helplessly. “And there isn’t any blame for you to share, either.”

“Do you expect us to believe that?” observed the monocle-man reproachfully.

“No, I don’t.”

“Or a jury?”

“Perhaps not.”

“Really, old chap” – began the hammer-man sedulously, and he looked awfully sorry. Perhaps he was going to extend his sympathy.

“Say it in Latin!” interrupted Bob ungratefully.

“What does he mean?” queried the monocle-man.

“I’m really at a loss,” answered the hammer-thrower.

That gentleman had gleaned a great deal of information of a most gratifying nature. He didn’t know all the whys and wherefores, but it was sufficient that Bob seemed too deep in the toils to extricate himself. A happy (to the hammer-man) combination of circumstances had involved the other.

“Please let him go,” again pleaded Miss Dolly to Gwendoline. “Be a dear. Besides, think how he – ” She went over to Miss Gerald suddenly and whispered two words – two ardent electrical words!

Gwendoline’s eyes flashed but she did not answer. One of the hammer-thrower’s hands closed.

“I fear Miss Gerald couldn’t do that now, if she wanted to,” interposed the monocle-man. “It isn’t altogether her affair or her aunt’s. You see, there are other people who gave those other social functions Mr. Bennett attended. They may not incline to be sentimentally – I may say foolishly lenient. So you see even if I desired to oblige a lady” – bowing to Dolly “whom I esteem very much, my hands are tied. Justice, in other words, must take its course.”

Bob looked at Gwendoline. “Some day, Miss Gerald, you may realize you helped, or tried to help, convict an innocent man.”

“She doesn’t care,” said the temperamental little thing vehemently. “She’s got a stone for a heart.” Only that cryptic smile on the proud beautiful lips answered this outbreak. The jolly little pal went right over to her again. “Anyhow,” she said, “he kissed me.”

Just for an instant Miss Gerald’s sweeping lashes lifted to Bob. Just for an instant, too, Miss Gerald’s white teeth buried themselves in that proud red upper lip. Miss Dolly turned to the monocle-man. “Now, I’m ready to go with you,” she said.

“Oh, I don’t want you” – then he added “yet! You will appreciate, Mr. Bennett” – turning to Bob – “that the more quietly – I want to show you all the consideration possible – ”

“I’ll go quietly,” muttered Bob. “No use raising a row! I’ll go like a gentleman. I’ll make myself as little obnoxious and objectionable to the rest of Mrs. Ralston’s guests as possible.” Bitterly. “Good-by, Miss Gerald.” That young lady didn’t answer. “Won’t you say good-by?” repeated Bob. There was a gleam of great pleasure in the hammer-thrower’s eyes now. Bob had involuntarily put out his hand but Miss Gerald would not see it. Indeed, she turned farther from him, as if annoyed by Bob’s persistence. Bob’s hand fell to his side, he drew himself up.

“I am ready, sir,” he said quietly to the monocle-man.

“Perhaps it would be as well if you accompanied us,” observed the monocle-man to the hammer-thrower.

“Certainly.” The other understood. Bob was strong and he might change his mind and be less lamblike before reaching his destination. “It’s a disagreeable job at best,” murmured the hammer-thrower, “but I suppose I ought to see it through.”

“It’s nice of you,” said Miss Gerald in a low dull tone.

A moment Bob’s eyes gleamed dangerously, then he seemed to realize the presence of Miss Gerald’s other guests once more and his handsome blond head dropped. “I guess it’s your turn,” he said to the hammer-man.

Miss Dolly looked at the composed proud girl with the “heart of stone.” The temperamental little thing’s hands were tightly closed. Suddenly once more she bent over to whisper – this time viciously – to Miss Gerald. “He kisses beautifully,” she breathed. “And – and I hate you!” Miss Gerald did not answer; nor did she turn to regard Bob who quietly moved away now with the monocle-man and the hammer-thrower.

CHAPTER XXII – A REAL BENEFACTOR

Bob, the hammer-thrower and the monocle-man together entered the little station-house in the village. It wasn’t much of a lock-up, but it was big enough to hold Bob and a few others, one of whom had just been released as the trio of new-comers walked in. His eye fell on Bob.

“That’s my man,” he exclaimed excitedly. “That’s my escaped patient.”

“Yes, that’s he!” affirmed a second voice – that of the commodore.

“Got him this time!” came jubilantly from another side of the bare room, and Bob gazing, with no show of emotion, in that direction, discovered Dickie and Clarence were there too.

“Put me in the padded cell, would you?” said the maniac-medico furiously. “I’ll see where you go. Come on. The car is waiting. There won’t be any window-bouquets this time, I promise you.”

Bob didn’t answer. He didn’t much care what they said.

“I got Gee-gee on the phone,” went on Dan viciously, “and she has it all down in black and white, she tells me. The legal light up there has attended to that. A parcel of outrageous falsehoods! The audacity of that girl, too! When I showed her the enormity of her conduct, she only gave a merry little laugh. Said she was terribly fond of me, the minx! And would I come and sit in the front row when she was a bright and scintillating star?”

“And she said Gid-up wanted to know if I wouldn’t like to gaze upon that cute little freckle once more?” added Clarence in choked tones.

“And all that, on account of you!” exclaimed the commodore, throwing out his arms and looking at the culprit. Dickie didn’t say anything at the moment. He only glared.

Bob regarded the three with lack-luster gaze. He felt little interest in them now.

“Take him away!” said Dan, breathing hard. “Or I may do him an injury.”

“Give him what’s coming to him,” breathed Dickie hoarsely. “He’s got my girl hypnotized.”

“Come on,” said the maniac-medico sternly to Bob. “Let’s waste no more time.”

“Hold on,” spoke the monocle-man quietly. “You are a little premature, gentlemen.”

“What do you want to butt in for?” demanded the commodore aggressively of the monocle-man.

“Mr. Bennett has accompanied me here as my prisoner. Am I not right?” Appealing to the hammer-thrower.

“Correct,” said that gentleman regretfully.

“What’s he been doing besides wrecking homes?” asked the commodore.

“A few articles of jewelry have been missing at Mrs. Ralston’s,” said the hammer-thrower in that same tone. “It’s a very regrettable affair. Miss Gerald, for example, lost her ring and it was traced to Mr. Bennett.”

Bob stood it patiently. He wondered if his day would ever come.

“So? – He’s the merry little social-highwayman, is he?” observed Dan. “The best I can say is, don’t make a hero of him. Give him some real, old-fashioned justice.”

“I’m afraid I can’t honestly extend my sympathy to you,” remarked Clarence to Bob stiffly.

“I’m not sorry,” said Dickie frankly. “I’m glad. Anyhow, Miss Dolly will despise you now.” With a ring of triumph in his voice.

“No, she won’t,” observed Bob, breaking silence for the first time. “It was being what people think I am that made her fall in love with me.” He didn’t want Dickie to feel too good. He remembered that unsportsmanlike punch. “She’s my dear jolly little pal,” Bob went on, “and she wanted to occupy an adjoining cell.”

Dickie went up to Bob. “I’d like to give you another,” he said in his nastiest accents.

“Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” It was the voice of the man at the desk. Authority now spoke. Up to now, amazement had held authority tongue-tied. “The prisoner came quietly, Mr. Moriarity?” Authority knew, then, the monocle-man. Evidently the two had a secret understanding. “Has he confessed?” “Not as yet,” said the monocle-man significantly.

“And I’m not going to,” spoke up Bob succinctly to the magistrate. “I’m not guilty.”

“Then who is?” asked the monocle-man.

“You’ve got your hand on his arm,” said Bob in that same forcible manner. The time had come for him to assert himself, however ridiculous his affirmation might sound. Authority should have the truth. Bob blurted it out fearlessly, holding his head well up as he spoke. “You’ve got your hand on his arm,” he repeated.

Mr. Moriarity’s reply quite took their breath away, especially Bob’s. “Guess you’re right,” he said promptly, and something bright gleamed in his hand. “Don’t move,” he said to the hammer-thrower.

“But aren’t you going to lock him up at all?” asked the commodore in disappointed tones, indicating Bob, after the monocle-man had shown the hammer-thrower a warrant for his (the hammer-thrower’s) arrest, and had, at the conclusion of certain formalities, caused that dazed and angry individual to be led away.

“I am certainly not going to lock Mr. Bennett up,” laughed the monocle-man who was in the best of humors.

The coup seemed to him a lovely one. For months he had been on the trail of the hammer-thrower. He told Bob – as dazed and bewildered as the hammer-thrower by the unexpected turn of events – all about it later. He had certainly taken an artistic way to complete the affair. And later, not that night, Bob learned, too, that it was Miss Gerald herself who had suggested the way, she having inherited some of the managerial genius of her father. Maybe, she was not averse to Bob’s suffering a little after the wholly-intolerable way he had comported himself toward her and others of her aunt’s guests. Maybe cruelty had mingled somewhat with retaliation. Proud, regal young womanhood sometimes can be cruel. But Bob probably deserved all those twinges and pangs and mournful emotions she had caused him. No one certainly had ever talked to her as he had done.

“May I sit down?” said Bob at length to the magistrate. He felt rather tired.

Authority gave him permission to sit. “Well, if you’re not going to lock him up,” said that maniac-med., looking viciously at Bob, “I am.”

“No, you’re not,” observed the monocle-man easily. “Mr. Bennett is my friend. He has helped me immensely in this affair. Had he not projected his rather impetuous personality into it, certain difficulties would not have been smoothed out so easily. He created a diversion which threw the prisoner, naturally deep and resourceful, somewhat off his guard. But for Mr. Bennett’s whimsical and, at times, diverting conduct,” with a smile at Bob, “my fight against him,” nodding toward the cell, “might not have culminated quite so soon. So,” he added to the enraged medico, “Mr. Bennett has my full moral support, and, I may say,” touching the pocket into which he had returned that something bright, “my physical support as well.” “But what about the treatment I have received?” stormed the med. “Locked up like – ?”

“You shouldn’t have been prowling around. Anyhow, I shall advise my good friend, Mr. Bennett, that should you seek to annoy him further, or to lay a single finger on him, he will have an excellent case for damages. I can explain away a great deal that is inexplicable to the rest of you, and that explanation will serve fully to rehabilitate Mr. Bennett in the esteem of certain people as a not unnormal person. How far I can restore his popularity,” with a laugh, “is another matter.”

Bob stared straight ahead. “How did you do it?” he said to the monocle-man. “What made you certain?”