The Mansion of Mystery | Page 7

so you have nothing to fear.
She has a legal right to receive advice."
"Oh, if the gentleman is a lawyer I have nothing to say," was the retort,
and Mrs. Morse swept from the room.
The instant she was gone, the young man closed the door and then
rushed up to Margaret Langmore and kissed her.
"I have succeeded!" he cried. "I told you I would. This is Mr. Adam
Adams. Mr. Adams, this is Miss Margaret Langmore. Now, I guess we

are going to show these country bumpkins a thing or two!" he added
earnestly.
The detective advanced and shook hands. Margaret Langmore was a
trifle disappointed in his appearance and her face clouded for an instant.
Raymond was quick to notice it.
"You mustn't judge a man by his appearance. Mr. Adams makes
himself look that way on purpose. He's the smartest, swiftest--"
"That will do," interrupted the detective with a brief smile.
"Will you help me?" The girl eyed the detective squarely. "I--I need
help so much."
"I must hear your story first."
"Oh, I thought Raymond would tell you everything."
"He has told me all he knows. But I want to hear the story from your
own lips. Something may have slipped him, you know."
"I will tell you everything. Please sit down."
Margaret Langmore began her narrative. It was fully an hour before she
finished. Occasionally the detective asked a question, but for the most
part he sat back with his eyes closed, as if thinking of something else.
"Now, Miss Langmore," he exclaimed, as he straightened up at the
conclusion of her recital, "whom do you suspect of this crime?"
"I suspect no one, sir."
"Have you any idea why this awful deed was committed?" The
detective had been on the point of saying "murder" but had checked
himself.
"Not the least in the world."

"Some of the windows were, of course, open. What of the doors?"
"The front door and that to the side piazza were locked. The back door
was open."
"Then a person might have sneaked in by the back way?"
"I presume so."
"Your father was quite dead when you found him?" asked the detective
quickly.
"I--I--thought so." The girl began to choke up and sob. "It--it was such
a shock--I--I--" She could not go on.
Adam Adams watched her keenly and noted how she trembled from
head to foot.
"Do not take it so hard, Margaret," put in Raymond Case, placing his
hand upon her shoulder. "It will all come out right in the end--I am sure
of it."
"But it will not bring back my father!" sobbed the girl. "And he was so
dear to me! And to think that we should quarrel at all--"
"The quarrel took place at the breakfast table, so you said," came from
Adam Adams. "And you rushed out to get away from what your
stepmother was saying to you?"
"Yes. I could not bear it any longer."
"Your father took Mrs. Langmore's part?"
"He did, but at the same time he told her not to be so hard on me--that I
had been without a mother to guide me so many years, and all that."
"Do you think they quarreled between themselves after you left, or after
your father came back from the bank?"

"I cannot say as to that."
"Mr. Adams has an idea that possibly one or the other of them was
responsible," put in Raymond. "He thinks one might have killed the
other and then committed suicide."
"I do not think so. I said it was possible," corrected the detective. "In
taking up an affair of this sort one must look at it from all sides."
"I do not believe my father either killed her or committed suicide,"
answered Margaret Langmore firmly.
"Do you think Mrs. Langmore would act in such a fashion?"
The girl pondered for a moment.
"Honestly I do not. She may have killed my father, but if so she would
have run away."
"The safe was closed at the time of the tragedy?"
"Yes."
"And absolutely nothing was stolen?"
"Nothing, so far as we have been able to ascertain."
"Was anything out of order, as if the assassin had been scared off while
hunting around for something to steal?"
"I did not see anything. But I was so upset I noticed scarcely anything."
"That was natural, of course. The safe has not yet been opened?"
"No, we are waiting for a man to come from the safe makers."
"Now, one thing more. After you came back to the house before
practicing what did you do?"

"I wrote some letters to girl friends, telling them I could not give a
house party."
"And before that?"
"I--I, must I tell? I threw myself on the bed yonder for a good