The Red Seal [76]
in malicious enjoyment as, catching his eye, Barbara shrank back and sheltered herself behind Kent. "Mr. Turnbull accepted the check; later something must have aroused his suspicions, and I found when he questioned me that he believed Colonel McIntyre had forged the check."
"Good heavens! You let him think that?" gasped McIntyre; then wrath gained the mastery. "You scoundrel!"
"Oh, I encouraged him to think it," Sylvester grinned again. "You must have handed Mr. Turnbull a raw deal; he was so ready to think evil of you."
"That is a lie!" exclaimed Helen hotly. "When I went downstairs to investigate the noise I heard in the library, father, Jimmie told me who he was to quiet my fright. He showed me a letter, which he had just found on your desk in the library, confessing that you had forged Mr. Clymer's name on the check, and begging Jimmie to conceal your crime and save Barbara and me from the shame of having you exposed as a forger and a thief."
"I never wrote such a letter!" shouted McIntyre, deeply incensed.
"No, it was a clever plan," acknowledged Sylvester. "On one of my trips to your house, Colonel McIntyre, I secured wax impressions of your front door lock. I went to your house Monday night and put the letter among your papers just before Turnbull was admitted by your fool of a butler."
"And you gave Jimmie Turnbull a dose of poison - charged Kent, but Sylvester, his lips gone dry, raised his manacled hands in protest.
"I did not poison him," he cried. "I waited just to see if Turnbull got the letter and to find out what he'd do with the securities, which he had refused to turn over to me. After he had read the forged letter Mr. Turnbull acted sort of faint and went out in the hall. I could just see him put down a box on the hall table and lean against the wall. Then he went into the dining room and came back a second later carrying a glass of water, and I saw him take up and open a small box and toss some white pills into his mouth; then he took a good drink, and, picking up a handkerchief lying on the table, he went back into the library."
There was silence as Sylvester's callous recital of the tragedy ended. Helen, her eyes tearless and dark with suffering, sank slowly back in her chair and rested her head against Barbara's sympathetic shoulder.
"So Turnbull's death was accidental after all," exclaimed Ferguson. "Or was it suicide?"
"Accident," answered Kent. "I found some nitro-glycerine pills in the umbrella stand by the hall table." Colonel McIntyre nodded. "Evidently Turnbull put down his pill box before getting a glass of water, and in his attack of giddiness accidentally opened your box of aconitine pills, Mrs. Brewster, instead of his own, and swallowed a fatal dose, thinking they were nitroglycerine."
Mrs. Brewster bowed her head in agreement. That must have been it," she said. "However, I saw Colonel McIntyre tear off the paper wrapping and open my package of pills just before dinner, and when I heard that Jimmie had died from aconitine I - I -" she stammered and stopped short.
"You suspected I had murdered him?" asked McIntyre softly.
"Yes," she looked appealingly at him. "Forgive me, I should never have suspected you, but the pills, box and all, were missing the next morning from the hall table."
"Turnbull must have thrown the box into the umbrella stand," explained Kent. "That was where I found it. Did you get the securities, Sylvester?" turning to the prisoner.
"No," sullenly. "She did," and a jerk of his thumb indicated Helen McIntyre.
Helen raised her head and addressed them slowly.
"Jimmie and I expected Barbara to come in at any moment, and he started to leave when we saw you coming downstairs," she turned to Mrs. Brewster. "Jimmie declared that if we were found together I might be compromised. He couldn't explain his presence without exposing father - we both thought you a forger, father," she interpolated, as McIntyre took her hand and pressed it understandingly. "So he insisted that I should treat him like an ordinary
"Good heavens! You let him think that?" gasped McIntyre; then wrath gained the mastery. "You scoundrel!"
"Oh, I encouraged him to think it," Sylvester grinned again. "You must have handed Mr. Turnbull a raw deal; he was so ready to think evil of you."
"That is a lie!" exclaimed Helen hotly. "When I went downstairs to investigate the noise I heard in the library, father, Jimmie told me who he was to quiet my fright. He showed me a letter, which he had just found on your desk in the library, confessing that you had forged Mr. Clymer's name on the check, and begging Jimmie to conceal your crime and save Barbara and me from the shame of having you exposed as a forger and a thief."
"I never wrote such a letter!" shouted McIntyre, deeply incensed.
"No, it was a clever plan," acknowledged Sylvester. "On one of my trips to your house, Colonel McIntyre, I secured wax impressions of your front door lock. I went to your house Monday night and put the letter among your papers just before Turnbull was admitted by your fool of a butler."
"And you gave Jimmie Turnbull a dose of poison - charged Kent, but Sylvester, his lips gone dry, raised his manacled hands in protest.
"I did not poison him," he cried. "I waited just to see if Turnbull got the letter and to find out what he'd do with the securities, which he had refused to turn over to me. After he had read the forged letter Mr. Turnbull acted sort of faint and went out in the hall. I could just see him put down a box on the hall table and lean against the wall. Then he went into the dining room and came back a second later carrying a glass of water, and I saw him take up and open a small box and toss some white pills into his mouth; then he took a good drink, and, picking up a handkerchief lying on the table, he went back into the library."
There was silence as Sylvester's callous recital of the tragedy ended. Helen, her eyes tearless and dark with suffering, sank slowly back in her chair and rested her head against Barbara's sympathetic shoulder.
"So Turnbull's death was accidental after all," exclaimed Ferguson. "Or was it suicide?"
"Accident," answered Kent. "I found some nitro-glycerine pills in the umbrella stand by the hall table." Colonel McIntyre nodded. "Evidently Turnbull put down his pill box before getting a glass of water, and in his attack of giddiness accidentally opened your box of aconitine pills, Mrs. Brewster, instead of his own, and swallowed a fatal dose, thinking they were nitroglycerine."
Mrs. Brewster bowed her head in agreement. That must have been it," she said. "However, I saw Colonel McIntyre tear off the paper wrapping and open my package of pills just before dinner, and when I heard that Jimmie had died from aconitine I - I -" she stammered and stopped short.
"You suspected I had murdered him?" asked McIntyre softly.
"Yes," she looked appealingly at him. "Forgive me, I should never have suspected you, but the pills, box and all, were missing the next morning from the hall table."
"Turnbull must have thrown the box into the umbrella stand," explained Kent. "That was where I found it. Did you get the securities, Sylvester?" turning to the prisoner.
"No," sullenly. "She did," and a jerk of his thumb indicated Helen McIntyre.
Helen raised her head and addressed them slowly.
"Jimmie and I expected Barbara to come in at any moment, and he started to leave when we saw you coming downstairs," she turned to Mrs. Brewster. "Jimmie declared that if we were found together I might be compromised. He couldn't explain his presence without exposing father - we both thought you a forger, father," she interpolated, as McIntyre took her hand and pressed it understandingly. "So he insisted that I should treat him like an ordinary