The Red Seal [43]
you suffer," and not waiting for the detective's jumbled apologies and explanations, he hurried from the building. But once on the sidewalk he paused for thought. McIntyre must have picked up the white envelope, there was no other feasible explanation of its disappearance. But what had attracted his attention to the envelope - the red seal with the big letter " B" was its only identifying mark. If Helen had only told him the contents of the envelope!
Kent struck his clenched fist in his left hand in wrath; something must be done, he could not stand there all night. Although it was through no fault of his own that he had lost the envelope entrusted to his care, he was still responsible to Helen for its disappearance. She must be told that it was gone, however unpleasant the task.
Kent walked hastily along Pennsylvania Avenue until he came to a drug store still open, and entered the telephone booth. He had recollected that the twins had a branch telephone in their sitting room; he would have to chance their being awake at that hour.
Barbara McIntyre turned on her pillow and rubbed her sleepy eyes; surely she had been mistaken in thinking she heard the telephone bell ringing. Even as she lay striving to listen, she dozed off again, to be rudely awakened by Helen's voice at her ear.
"Babs!" came the agitated whisper. "The envelope's gone."
"Gone!" Barbara swung out of bed.
"Gone where?"
"Father has it."
Downstairs in the library Mrs. Brewster paused on her entrance by the side of a piece of carved Venetian furniture and laying her coronation scarf on it, she examined a white envelope - the red seal was intact.
At the sound of approaching footsteps she raised a trap door in the piece of furniture and only her keen ears caught the faint thud of the envelope as it dropped inside, then with a happy, tender smile she turned to meet Colonel McIntyre.
CHAPTER XII
THE ECHO OF A LAUGH
Colonel McIntyre tramped the deserted dining room in exasperation. Nine o'clock and the twins had not come to breakfast, nor was there any evidence that Mrs. Brewster intended taking that meal downstairs.
"Will you wait any longer, sir?" inquired Grimes, who hovered solicitously in the background. "I'm afraid, sir, your eggs will be over-done."
"Bring them along," directed McIntyre, and flung himself into his chair at the foot of the table. He had been seated but a few minutes when Barbara appeared and dutifully presented her cheek to be kissed, then she tripped lightly to Helen's place opposite her father, and pressed the electric bell for Grimes.
"Coffee, please," she said as that worthy appeared, and busied herself in arranging the cups and saucers. "Helen is taking her breakfast upstairs," she explained to her father.
"How about Mrs. Brewster?"
"Still asleep." Barbara poured out her father's coffee with careful attention to detail. "I peeked into her room a moment ago and she looked so 'comfy' I hadn't the heart to awaken her. You must have been very late at the club last night."
"We got home a little after one o'clock."
McIntyre helped himself to poached eggs and bacon. "What did you do last night?"
"Went to bed early," answered Barbara with brevity. "Helen wasn't feeling well."
McIntyre's handsome face showed concern as he glanced across the table. "Have you sent for Dr. Stone?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Helen - I - we "- Barbara stumbled in her speech. "We have taken an aversion to Dr. Stone."
McIntyre set down his coffee cup with unwonted force, thereby spilling some of its contents.
"What!" he exclaimed in complete astonishment, and regarded her fixedly for a moment. His tolerant manner, which he frequently assumed toward Barbara, grew stern. "Dr. Stone is my personal friend, as well as our family physician -"
"And a cousin of Margaret Brewster," put in Barbara mildly.
"Well, what of it?" trenchantly, aware that he had colored at mention of the widow's name. "Nothing," Barbara's eyes opened innocently. "I only recalled the fact of his relationship
Kent struck his clenched fist in his left hand in wrath; something must be done, he could not stand there all night. Although it was through no fault of his own that he had lost the envelope entrusted to his care, he was still responsible to Helen for its disappearance. She must be told that it was gone, however unpleasant the task.
Kent walked hastily along Pennsylvania Avenue until he came to a drug store still open, and entered the telephone booth. He had recollected that the twins had a branch telephone in their sitting room; he would have to chance their being awake at that hour.
Barbara McIntyre turned on her pillow and rubbed her sleepy eyes; surely she had been mistaken in thinking she heard the telephone bell ringing. Even as she lay striving to listen, she dozed off again, to be rudely awakened by Helen's voice at her ear.
"Babs!" came the agitated whisper. "The envelope's gone."
"Gone!" Barbara swung out of bed.
"Gone where?"
"Father has it."
Downstairs in the library Mrs. Brewster paused on her entrance by the side of a piece of carved Venetian furniture and laying her coronation scarf on it, she examined a white envelope - the red seal was intact.
At the sound of approaching footsteps she raised a trap door in the piece of furniture and only her keen ears caught the faint thud of the envelope as it dropped inside, then with a happy, tender smile she turned to meet Colonel McIntyre.
CHAPTER XII
THE ECHO OF A LAUGH
Colonel McIntyre tramped the deserted dining room in exasperation. Nine o'clock and the twins had not come to breakfast, nor was there any evidence that Mrs. Brewster intended taking that meal downstairs.
"Will you wait any longer, sir?" inquired Grimes, who hovered solicitously in the background. "I'm afraid, sir, your eggs will be over-done."
"Bring them along," directed McIntyre, and flung himself into his chair at the foot of the table. He had been seated but a few minutes when Barbara appeared and dutifully presented her cheek to be kissed, then she tripped lightly to Helen's place opposite her father, and pressed the electric bell for Grimes.
"Coffee, please," she said as that worthy appeared, and busied herself in arranging the cups and saucers. "Helen is taking her breakfast upstairs," she explained to her father.
"How about Mrs. Brewster?"
"Still asleep." Barbara poured out her father's coffee with careful attention to detail. "I peeked into her room a moment ago and she looked so 'comfy' I hadn't the heart to awaken her. You must have been very late at the club last night."
"We got home a little after one o'clock."
McIntyre helped himself to poached eggs and bacon. "What did you do last night?"
"Went to bed early," answered Barbara with brevity. "Helen wasn't feeling well."
McIntyre's handsome face showed concern as he glanced across the table. "Have you sent for Dr. Stone?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Helen - I - we "- Barbara stumbled in her speech. "We have taken an aversion to Dr. Stone."
McIntyre set down his coffee cup with unwonted force, thereby spilling some of its contents.
"What!" he exclaimed in complete astonishment, and regarded her fixedly for a moment. His tolerant manner, which he frequently assumed toward Barbara, grew stern. "Dr. Stone is my personal friend, as well as our family physician -"
"And a cousin of Margaret Brewster," put in Barbara mildly.
"Well, what of it?" trenchantly, aware that he had colored at mention of the widow's name. "Nothing," Barbara's eyes opened innocently. "I only recalled the fact of his relationship