The Hollow of Her Hand | Page 5

There
were signs of a struggle,--but it isn't necessary to go into that. Now, as
to their arrival at the inn. The blizzard had not set in. Last night was
dark, of course, as there is no moon, but it was clear and rather warm
for the time of year. The couple came here about nine o'clock in a high
power runabout machine, which the man drove. They had no
hand-baggage and apparently had run out from New York. Burton says
he was on the point of refusing them accommodations when the man
handed him a hundred dollar bill. It was more than Burton's cupidity
could withstand. They did not register. The state license numbers had
been removed from the automobile, which was of foreign make. Of
course, it was only a question of time until we could have found out
who the car belonged to. It is perfectly obvious why he removed the
numbers."
At this juncture Drake entered the room. Mrs. Wrandall did not at first
recognise him.
"It has stopped snowing," announced the new-comer.
"Oh, it is Mr. Drake," she murmured. "We have a little French car,
painted red," she announced to the sheriff without giving Drake another
thought.
"And this one is red, madam," said the sheriff, with a glance at the
coroner. Drake nodded his head. Mrs. Wrandall's body stiffened
perceptibly, as if deflecting a blow. "It is still standing in the garage,
where he left it on his arrival."
"Did no one see the face of--of the woman?" asked Mrs. Wrandall,
rather querulously. "It seems odd that no one should have seen her
face," she went on without waiting for an answer.
"It's not strange, madam, when you consider ALL the circumstances.
She was very careful not to remove her veil or her coat until the door
was locked. That proves that she was not the sort of woman we usually
find gallavanting around with men regardless of--ahem, I beg your
pardon. This must be very distressing to you."

"I am not sure, Mr. Sheriff, that it IS my husband who lies up there.
Please remember that," she said steadily. "It is easier to hear the details
now, before I KNOW, than it will be afterward if it should turn out to
be as Mr. Drake declares."
"I see," said the sheriff, marvelling.
"Besides, Mr. Drake is not POSITIVE," put in the coroner hopefully.
"I am reasonably certain," said Drake.
"Then all the more reason why I should have the story first," said she,
with a shiver that no one failed to observe.
The sheriff resumed his conclusions. "Women of the kind I referred to
a moment ago don't care whether they're seen or not. In fact, they're
rather brazen about it. But this one was different. She was as far from
that as it was possible for her to be. We haven't been able to find any
one who saw her face or who can give the least idea as to what she
looks like, excepting a general description of her figure, her carriage,
and the out-door garments she wore. We have reason to believe she was
young. She was modestly dressed. Her coat was one of those heavy
ulster affairs, such as a woman uses in motoring or on a sea-voyage.
There was a small sable stole about her neck. The skirt was short, and
she wore high black shoes of the thick walking type. Judging from
Burton's description she must have been about your size and figure,
Mrs. Wrandall. Isn't that so, Mrs. Burton?"
The inn-keeper's wife spoke. "Yes, Mr. Harben, I'd say so myself.
About five feet six, I'd judge; rather slim and graceful-like, in spite of
the big coat."
Mrs. Wrandall was watching the woman's face. "I am five feet six," she
said, as if answering a question.
The sheriff cleared his throat somewhat needlessly.
"Burton says she acted as if she were a lady," he went on. "Not the kind
that usually comes out here on such expeditions, he admits. She did not
speak to any one, except once in very low tones to the man she was
with, and then she was standing by the fireplace out in the main office,
quite a distance from the desk. She went upstairs alone, and he gave
some orders to Burton before following her. That was the last time
Burton saw her. The waitress went up with a specially prepared supper
about half an hour later."
"It seems quite clear, Mrs. Wrandall, that she robbed the man after

stabbing him," said the coroner.
Mrs. Wrandall started. "Then she was NOT a lady, after all," she said
quickly. There was a note of relief in her voice. It was as if she had put
aside a half-formed conclusion.
"His pockets were empty. Not