The Lady Sleuths MEGAPACK TM(372)

                             “You seemed surprised by what I have told you. Has any one said that these two women were alike?”

                Having to speak, I became myself again in a trice, and nodded vigorously.

                “Some one was so foolish,” I remarked.

                Miss Althorpe looked thoughtful. While she was interested she was not so interested as to take the subject in fully. Her own concerns made her abstracted, and I was very glad of it.

                “Louise Van Burnam had a sharp chin and a very cold blue eye. Yet her face was a fascinating one to some.”

                “Well, it was a dreadful tragedy!” I observed, and tried to turn the subject aside, which fortunately I was able to do after a short effort.

                Then I picked the basket up, and perceiving the sick woman’s lips faintly moving, I went over to her and found her murmuring to herself.

                As Miss Althorpe had risen when I did, I did not dare to listen to these murmurs, but when my charming hostess had bidden me good-night, with many injunctions not to tire myself, and to be sure and remember that a decanter and a plate of biscuits stood on a table outside, I hastened back to the bedside, and leaning over my patient, endeavored to catch the words as they fell from her lips.

                As they were simple and but the echo of those running at that very moment through my own brain, I had no difficulty in distinguishing them.

                “Van Burnam!” she was saying, “Van Burnam!” varied by a short “Howard!” and once by a doubtful “Franklin!”

                “Ah,” thought I, with a sudden reaction, “she is the woman I seek, if she is not Louise Van Burnam.” And unheeding the start she gave, I pulled off the blanket I had spread over her, and willy-nilly drew off her left shoe and stocking.

                Her bare ankle showed no scar, and covering it quickly up I took up her shoe. Immediately the trepidation she had shown at the approach of a stranger’s hand towards that article of clothing was explained. In the lining around the top were sewn bills of no ordinary amount, and as the other shoe was probably used as a like depository, she naturally felt concern at any approach which might lead to a discovery of her little fortune.



                             Amazed at a mystery possessing so many points of interest, I tucked the shoe in under the bedclothes and sat down to review the situation.

                The mistake I had made was in concluding that because the fugitive whose traces I had followed had worn the clothes of Louise Van Burnam, she must necessarily be that unfortunate lady. Now I saw that the murdered woman was Howard’s wife after all, and this patient of mine her probable rival.

                But this necessitated an entire change in my whole line of reasoning. If the rival and not the wife lay before me, then which of the two accompanied him to the scene of tragedy? He had said it was his wife; I had proven to myself that it was the rival; was he right, or was I right, or were neither of us right?

                Not being able to decide, I fixed my mind upon another query. When did the two women exchange clothes, or rather, when did this woman procure the silk habiliments and elaborate adornments of her more opulent rival? Was it before either of them entered Mr. Van Burnam’s house? Or was it after their encounter there?

                Running over in my mind certain little facts of which I had hitherto attempted no explanation, I grouped them together and sought amongst them for inspiration.

                These are the facts: