Billy
nodded and disappeared. Miss Cornelia's back began to stiffen--she
didn't like other people ordering her servants around like that.
The detective, apparently, had somewhat of the same feeling.
"I seem to have plenty of help in this case!" he said with obvious
sarcasm, turning to Beresford.
The latter made no reply. Dale rose anxiously from her chair, her
lips quivering.
"Why have you sent for the gardener?" she inquired haltingly.
Beresford deigned to answer at last.
"I'll tell you that in a moment," he said with a grim tightening
of his lips.
There was a fateful pause, for an instant, while Dale roved
nervously from one side of the room to the other. Then Jack Bailey
came into the room--alone.
He seemed to sense danger in the air. His hands clenched at his
sides, but except for that tiny betrayal of emotion, he still kept
his servant's pose.
"You sent for me?" he queried of Miss Cornelia submissively, ignoring
the glowering Beresford.
But Beresford would be ignored no longer. He came between them
before Miss Cornelia had time to answer.
"How long has this man been in your employ?" he asked brusquely,
manner tense.
Miss Cornelia made one final attempt at evasion. "Why should that
interest you?" she parried, answering his question with an icy
question of her own.
It was too late. Already Bailey had read the truth in Beresford's
eyes.
"I came this evening," he admitted, still hoping against hope that
his cringing posture of the servitor might give Beresford pause for
the moment.
Pages:
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194