It must be remembered that the examination of Carlos had taken place on Friday, and that on that evening followed his escape, as well as the secret visit of Geoffrey Haywood to Rocky Beach.

On Saturday morning the news of the prisoner’s flight spread like wild-fire through Dalton. Officer George Johnson was not a hero on that occasion. The time of the townspeople was divided between commenting on his inefficiency and lack of vigilance, and the probability of the recapture of Carlos. It was almost universally agreed that, since Leonard Lester had succeeded so well in obliterating all traces of his movements, Carlos had like means of making his way to parts unknown. Still all efforts were made to trace the fugitive. The surrounding country was scoured, and brief telegrams were sent to the police of the different cities.

The body of Colonel Conrad was still lying in the mansion at Elm Grove. The funeral was appointed to take place on the following day—Sunday.

During Saturday Geoffrey Haywood was full of business. This was to be expected, considering the importance of the case and the emergencies that had arisen. And what was more natural and proper than that Mr.Haywood, the nephew of Colonel Conrad, and the intimate, trusted friend of the family, should be active in all measures which the exigencies of the occasion called up? He was his usual, calm, serene self, dignified, guarded, and forbidding in manner.

During the forenoon he called on Timothy Tibbs, Esq., the lawyer to whom the envelope was addressed that had been found on Colonel Conrad’s table. Lawyer Tibbs was somewhat advanced in years, and long devotion to business had rendered his face an impenetrable array of clear-cut features. He was called a hard business man, yet one of strict integrity. He had been Colonel Conrad’s confidential attorney and counselor.

“You will pardon me,” said Haywood, “for introducing the subject of my lamented uncle’s affairs so soon after his melancholy death. But circumstances have occurred, as you know, that render immediate investigation and action necessary.”

“You refer to the escape of young Conrad?”

“Irefer to the escape of the murderer. You had charge, Ibelieve, of some of the business matters of the late Colonel Conrad.”

“Ihad the honor, Imay say, of conducting whatever legal transactions he was engaged in.”

“Exactly. You drew up his deeds, mortgages, conveyances, and—his will.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You are aware, Isuppose,” said Haywood, “that on the morning of the discovery of the murder, an envelope directed to yourself was found on his table.”

“Iam aware that such was the case.”

“But it contained no letter.”

“It contained no letter,” said Mr.Tibbs.

“Had he consulted you lately on any business matters of importance?”

The lawyer coughed slightly, as if he did not quite approve of the question. He replied:

“As to what you might regard as a business matter of importance Ihave not, perhaps, a clear idea. And the term ‘lately’ is rather an indefinite one.”

“Well, we will say within a week,” said Mr.Haywood, ignoring the first clause of Mr.Tibbs’ remark.

“Ihave not seen him within a week.”

“And have you had no intimation that he wished to consult you? Has he sent you no message? Has he sought no advice—or aid—in reference to making—in reference to the disposal of his property?”

The lawyer looked at Haywood sharply before replying. Then he said, slowly and distinctly:

“Colonel Conrad, the day before his death, requested the loan of a book containing forms and directions for making wills, and Isent such a book to him. Ihave had no word from him since.”

Haywood felt an inward thrill as he heard these words, but repressed any outward manifestation. He had obtained the information he was seeking, and proceeded at once to cover his tracks.

“You mistake what Iam trying to get at, Mr.Tibbs,” he said. “Itrust Iam not so mercenary as to have any thought concerning his will thus early. Iam thinking of the box of money he received. It cannot be found about the house, nor was it deposited in the bank, and Iimagined that you might possibly know something concerning its disposal, as you have aided him in placing several of his investments.”

“Iknow nothing about the money,” replied Mr.Tibbs, coldly. “If Ihad, Ishould have appeared at the examination to testify in regard to it. Is it not supposed that the murderer or his accomplice made way with it?”

“Yes; such, Ibelieve, is the supposition,” said Haywood, apologetically, “but the inquiry Ihave made suggested itself to my mind this morning, and—well, there certainly is no harm done. However, Iwill not detain you longer, Mr.Tibbs. Good-morning.”

“Good-morning,” returned the lawyer.

As Haywood left he congratulated himself on his shrewd management of the conversation; but Mr.Tibbs was not entirely blinded. He muttered to himself:

“Iwonder what Haywood was driving at. His concern about the box of gold was a pretense to cover something else. Can it be the colonel’s will that he is worried about?”

And Mr.Tibbs resolved to be guarded and watchful toward Haywood.

Haywood next called on Mr.Royalton, the lawyer, who had acted in behalf of Carlos at the examination.

“So your client has escaped, Mr.Royalton,” he said, as he entered the lawyers’ office.

“Iunderstand that he has,” was the reply, delivered with a cool bow.

“Avery unwise proceeding, Ishould judge, if your boast yesterday amounted to anything.”

“To what boast do you refer, sir?”

“Why, to those remarks in your closing speech to the effect that the natives were to be astonished by some very startling developments that would shield the young villain from harm. But, perhaps, the escape was the grand stroke of policy you referred to.”

“If you intend that as a jest, Mr.Haywood, we will consider it a witty one, and let it pass.”

Haywood bit his lips at this rejoinder, and looked askant into Mr.Royalton’s face, which certainly did not bear an expression of warm cordiality.

“Well, Mr.Royalton,” he said, after a moment, “Ihave come to ask you a question. You are aware that an envelope directed to Mr.Timothy Tibbs was found on Colonel Conrad’s table, and the supposition is that it was intended to convey a letter or message of some kind. What Iwant to ask is, if your client made mention of discovering any such letter when he com—when the murder was committed.”

“Has it struck you, Mr.Haywood, that it is rather an absurd proceeding for a man to question a lawyer concerning his client’s admissions or actions?”

“But this is nothing that need criminate him or affect his prospects one way or the other,” said Haywood, uneasily.

“Of that you will allow me to be the judge. However, Ihave no objection to answering your question. Young Conrad found no letter.”

“Nor any portion of one?”

This was an incautious question. Haywood’s eagerness had led him to overstep himself. The lawyer was upon him in a moment. With a piercing glance and a sharp voice, he asked, quickly:

“Why do you say ‘portion of one?’ Mr.Haywood?”

It was only on rare occasions that Geoffrey Haywood found himself confused. This was one of them. He had made a blunder, and was for the instant alarmed. He stammered forth:

“Why, because—that is, for no particular reason; but every little clew is worth following up.”

“Clew to what?” demanded Mr.Royalton, with an offensive voice and frown which he knew well how to assume.

“Why, to his guilt, or to Colonel Conrad’s last wishes. As a friend to him and his family, you know, Iam bound to take all measures to serve their interests.”

“And, sir, as my client’s attorney, Iam bound to serve his interests in every proper way. Iam free to say, however—overlooking your singular presumption in trying to pump me—that Ibelieve his flight was an unwise proceeding; for Iam confident that in the end we should have beaten you.”

“Idon’t believe it,” retorted Haywood, angrily, rising from the chair in which he was sitting. “Iwill bid you good-day, Mr.Royalton.”

“Ha, ha!” chuckled the lawyer, when Haywood was gone. “Two points made; Ifrightened him and provoked him. My dear sir, you mustn’t leave such plain tracks, or the hounds of justice will soon be upon you.”

Haywood left Mr.Royalton’s office in no very amiable mood. But his serene demeanor, when once in the street, betrayed no disquieting emotions.

His next visit was to Elm Grove. After passing a few moments with Florence, uttering well-chosen words of consolation and condolence, he sought Barker, the servant, found him walking idly about the garden, pulling a weed now and then, or removing a stone from a choice flower-bed. He seemed downcast and forlorn.

“Good-morning, Barker,” said Mr.Haywood, joining him in his walk. “This calamity affects you as well as the rest of us. Colonel Conrad was a man we all loved.”

“Yes, sir, that he was,” replied Barker.

“And you have been very faithful and considerate in this time of trouble, Barker.”

“Thank you, sir. Idon’t know as I’ve done more than my duty.”

“To do one’s duty well is praiseworthy,” replied Mr.Haywood. “And now, Barker, Iwant to ask you a few questions. There is a great deal of mystery surrounding the affair, and the escape of young Conrad will, Iam afraid, complicate matters still worse. Iwant to know if Colonel Conrad seemed to have any important business on hand shortly before his death.”

“Well, sir, Ithink he did. He was writing all the day before, more especially after you called. He didn’t allow any one to see him or speak to him except when he wanted some little service of me.”

“You were in his room, then? Did you see him writing?”

“Yes, sir; and perhaps Ishould say that once toward evening he called me and Polly, the kitchen girl, in, and made us sign something.”

“Ah!” Haywood was evidently affected by this information. He was silent for an interval before trusting his voice to speak again. “What was it that you signed?”

“That Icouldn’t say, sir. Ididn’t read it.”

“Are you sure it was not a receipt for wages he had paid you?”

“No, sir, it was not that. There would be no occasion for Polly’s signing such a receipt with me. And Ihope you don’t think Ishall be asking for any wages that have been paid once. He might never take a receipt, and Iwouldn’t do that.”

“No, no, Barker, Ihad no such thought. Even if you were disposed to such a course, which Iknow you are not, Icould put you beyond the necessity for it.”

“How, sir?”

“Iwill tell you presently. But just try to recollect something about the nature of the document you signed.”

“Ican’t do that,” insisted Barker. “Itell you Ididn’t read it. Polly andI, the colonel said, were to be witnesses, whatever that meant.”

“Did you notice whether the colonel had signed it?”

“Oh, yes, sir. He wrote his name right before our eyes.”

“So that you would know that it was his signature?”

“Yes, sir, that was it.”

“Well, Barker,” said Mr.Haywood, after a pause, “would you like to earn a hundred dollars easily?”

“Of course Iwould, sir.”

“Listen, then. You can do it by solemnly promising, in the eyes of your Maker, that you will never breathe a word to any living soul concerning that document you signed.”

“That won’t be much of a job, sir.”

“But wait; how about Polly? She must remain silent, also.”

“Ithink Ican manage her,” said Barker, with a grin. “Icaught her stealing some of the silver plate once, and since that time she has been—well, she’s sort of under my thumb. She won’t dare do anything Iforbid her.”

“So much the better. Tell her not to breathe a word, and give her any reason you like.”

“I’ll see to it”, replied Barker. “Were you going to do as handsomely by her as you have promised to do by me?”

“Idon’t know. It won’t be necessary now.”

“You might give me her share,” said Barker, with a leer.

“Oh, ho!” laughed Haywood. “You would be getting a double portion in that case.”

“Iknow it,” replied Barker; and his leer transformed itself into an impudent stare. “But isn’t it worth it to you?”

“To me?” said Haywood, uneasily, for Barker’s humble demeanor had changed to something that looked very much like a disposition to grasp at a real or fancied advantage. “Idon’t know as it is to me personally.”

“Oh, sir, Iam sure it is. You had better give me the two hundred dollars.”

His tone was that of a demand, rather than a suggestion. He had immediately divined that Haywood had some secret object in view, and was evidently resolved not to sell himself too cheaply.

Haywood took a look at the man, and read him.

“All right,” he replied. “The money shall be yours. Here are one hundred dollars, and Iwill give you the balance on Monday.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“And mind you keep the secret well.”

“As close as the lips of the dead man in the house, sir.”

“And if you ever want any little service done, Barker, come to me.”

“Iwill, sir,” replied Barker, grinning significantly, after Haywood’s back was turned.

The two men then separated, having completed their evil compact.

On the morrow, under the solemn Sabbath skies, they were to appear as mourners in the train that was to convey the body that lay in the stricken house to its last resting-place, one bowed in humble grief, as befitted his station, and the other in ostentatious, stately sorrow.