The Great Auto Mystery | Page 7

the other, crustily. "Still," he mused, "I really can't say anything until I talk to him."
He again turned to his patient, and as he looked saw the red blood surge back into the face.
"Ah, now we're all right," he announced.
Thus it happened, for after another ten minutes the patient sat up suddenly on the couch and looked at the two men before him, bewildered.
"What's the matter?" he asked. The thickness was gone from his speech; he was himself again, although a little shaky.
Briefly, Hatch explained to him what had happened, and he listened silently. Finally he turned to The Thinking Machine.
"And this gentleman?" he asked. He noted the queer appearance of the scientist, and stared into the squint eyes frankly.
"Professor Van Dusen, a distinguished scientist and physician," Hatch introduced. "I brought you here. He has been working with you for an hour."
"And now, Mr. Curtis," said The Thinking Machine, "if you will tell us all you know about the murder of Miss Melrose----"
Curtis paled suddenly.
"Why do you ask me?" he demanded.
"You said a great deal while you were unconscious," remarked The Thinking Machine, as he dreamily stared at the ceiling. "I know that worry over that and too much alcohol have put you in a condition bordering on nervous collapse. I think it would be better if you told it all."
Hatch instantly saw the trend of the scientist's remarks, and remained discreetly silent. Curtis stared at both for a moment, then paced nervously across the room. He did not know what he might have said, what chance word might have been dropped. Then, apparently, he made up his mind, for he stopped suddenly in front of The Thinking Machine.
"Do I look like a man who would commit murder?" he asked.
"No, you do not," was the prompt response.
His recital of the story was similar to that of Hatch, but the scientist listened carefully.
"Details! details!" he interrupted once.
The story was complete from the moment Curtis jumped out of the car until the return to the hotel of Curtis and Reid. There the narrator stopped.
"Mr. Curtis, why did you try to induce Dr. Leonard to give up the knife to you?" asked The Thinking Machine, finally.
"Because--well, because----" He faltered, flushed and stopped.
"Because you were afraid it would bring the crime home to you?" asked the scientist.
"I didn't know what might happen," was the response.
"Is it your knife?"
Again the tell-tale flush overspread Curtis's face.
"No," he said, flatly.
"Is it Reid's knife?"
"Oh, no," he said, quickly.
"You were in love with Miss Melrose?"
"Yes," was the steady reply.
"Had she ever refused to marry you?"
"I had never asked her."
"Why?"
"Is this a third degree?" demanded Curtis, angrily, and he arose. "Am I a prisoner?"
"Not at all," said The Thinking Machine, quietly. "You may be made a prisoner, though, on what you said while unconscious. I am merely trying to help you."
Curtis sank down in a chair with his head in his hands and remained motionless for several minutes. At last he looked up.
"I'll answer your questions," he said.
"Why did you never ask Miss Melrose to marry you?"
"Because--well, because I understood another man, Donald MacLean, was as in love with her, and she might have loved him. I understood she would have married him had it not been that by doing so she would have caused his disinheritance. MacLean is now in Boston."
"Ah!" exclaimed The Thinking Machine.
"Your friend Reid didn't happen to be in love with her, too, did he?"
"Oh, no," was the reply. "Reid came here hoping to win the love of Miss Dow, a society girl. I came with him."
"Miss Dow?" asked Hatch, quickly. "The girl who eloped last night with Morgan Mason?"
"Yes," replied Curtis. "That elopement and this--crime have put Reid almost in as bad a condition as I am."
"What elopement?" asked The Thinking Machine.
Hatch explained how Mason had procured a marriage license, how Miss Dow and Mason had met at the Monarch Inn--where Miss Melrose must have been killed according to all stories--how Miss Dow had written to her parents from there of the elopement and then of their disappearance. The Thinking Machine listened, but without apparent interest.
"Have you such a knife as was used to kill Miss Melrose?" he asked at the end.
"No."
"Did you ever have such a knife?"
"Well, once."
"Where did you carry it when it was not in your auto kit?"
"In my lower coat pocket."
"By the way, what kind of looking woman was Miss Melrose?"
"One of the most beautiful women I ever met," said Curtis with a certain enthusiasm. "Of ordinary height, superb figure--a woman who would attract attention anywhere."
"I believe she wore a veil and an automobile mask at the time she was killed?"
"Yes. They covered all her face except her chin."
"Could she, wearing an automobile mask, see either side of herself without turning?" asked The Thinking Machine, pointedly. "Had you intended to stab