The Hollow of Her Hand | Page 9

is yours, he will see to it, with Mr. Drake, that it is made ready for

you. I take it that we will have no difficulty in--" He hesitated, at a loss
for words.
"In finding it again in case you need it for evidence?" she supplied. He
nodded. "I shall make it a point, Dr. Sheef, to present the car to the
State after it has served my purpose to-night. I shall not ride in it
again."
"The sheriff has a man who will ride with you to the station or the city,
whichever you may elect. Now, may I trouble you to make answer to
certain questions I shall write out for you at once? The man is Challis
Wrandall, your husband? You are positive?"
"I am positive. He is--or was--Challis Wrandall."
Half an hour later, she was ready for the trip to New York City. The
clock in the office marked the hour as one. A toddied individual in a
great buffalo coat waited for her outside, hiccoughing and bandying jest
with the half-frozen men who had spent the night with him in the
forlorn hope of finding THE GIRL.
Mrs. Wrandall gave final instructions to the coroner and his deputy,
who happened to be the undertaker's assistant. She had answered all the
questions that had been put to her, and had signed the document with a
firm, untrembling hand. Her veil had been lowered since the beginning
of the examination. They did not see her face; they only heard the calm,
low voice, sweet with fatigue and dread.
"I shall notify my brother-in-law as soon as I reach the city," she said.
"He will attend to everything. Mr. Leslie Wrandall, I mean. My
husband's only brother. He will be here in the morning, Dr. Sheef. My
own apartment is not open. I have been staying in a hotel since my
return from Europe two days ago. But I shall attend to the opening of
the place to-morrow. You will find me there."
The coroner hesitated a moment before putting the question that had
come to his mind as she spoke.
"Two days ago, madam? May I inquire where your husband has been
living during your absence abroad? When did you last see him alive?"
She did not reply for many seconds, and then it was with a perceptible
effort.
"I have not seen him since my return until--to-night," she replied, a
hoarse note creeping into her voice. "He did not meet me on my return.
His brother Leslie came to the dock. He--he said that Challis, who

came back from Europe two weeks ahead of me, had been called to St.
Louis on very important, business. My husband had been living at his
club, I understand. That is all I can tell you, sir."
"I see," said the coroner gently.
He opened the door for her and she passed out. A number of men were
grouped about the throbbing motor-car. They fell away as she
approached, silently fading into the shadows like so many vast,
unwholesome ghosts. The sheriff and Drake came forward.
"This man will go with you, madam," said the sheriff, pointing to an
unsteady figure beside the machine. "He is the only one who will
undertake it. They're all played out, you see. He has been drinking, but
only on account of the hardships he has undergone to-night. You will
be quite safe with Morley."
No snow was falling, but a bleak wind blew meanly. The air was free
from particles of sleet; wetly the fall of the night clung to the earth
where it had fallen.
"If he will guide me to the Post-road, that is all I ask," said she
hurriedly. Involuntarily she glanced upward. The curtains in an upstairs
window were blowing inward and a dim light shone out upon the roof
of the porch. She shuddered and then climbed up to the seat and took
her place at the wheel.
A few moments later, the three men standing in the middle of the road
watched the car as it rushed away.
"By George, she's a wonder!" said the sheriff.

CHAPTER II
THE PASSING OF A NIGHT

The sheriff was right. Sara Wrandall was an extraordinary woman, if I
may be permitted to modify his rather crude estimate of her. It is
difficult to understand, much less to describe a nature like hers.
Fine-minded, gently bred women who can go through an ordeal such as
she experienced without breaking under the strain are rare indeed. They
must be wonderful. It is hard to imagine a more heart-breaking crisis in

life than the one which confronted her on this dreadful night, and yet
she had faced it with a fortitude that seems almost unholy.
She had loved her handsome, wayward husband. He