<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></SPAN>CHAPTER XI</h2>
<h3>THE SHERIFF VISITS FOUR-POOLS</h3>
<p>We found the coroner and told our story. He sent word to Kennisburg, the
county-seat, for the sheriff to come; and then having called a doctor
and three or four other witnesses, we set out again for the cave. The
news of the tragedy had spread like wild-fire, and half the town of
Luray would have accompanied us had the coroner not forcibly prevented
it. He stationed two men at the entrance of the cave to keep the crowd
from pushing in. I myself should have been more than willing to wait
outside, but I felt that it was my duty by Radnor to be present. If any
discoveries were made I wished to be the first to know it.</p>
<p>It was sad business and I will not dwell upon it. One side of the old
man's head had been fractured by a heavy blow. He had been<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_144" id="Page_144"></SPAN></span> dead several
hours when we found him, but the doctor could not be certain whether
drowning, or the injury he had sustained, had been the immediate cause
of death. Dangling from a jagged piece of rock half way down the cliff,
we found Polly Mathers's coat, torn and drabbled with mud. The clay path
above the pool was trampled in every direction 'way out to the brink of
the precipice; it was evident, even to the most untrained observer, that
a fierce struggle of some sort had taken place. I was the first one to
examine the marks, and as I knelt down and held the light to the ground,
I saw with a thrill of mingled horror and hope that one pair of feet had
been bare. Mose had taken part in the struggle, and dreadful as was the
assurance, it was infinitely better than that other suspicion.</p>
<p>"It was Mose who committed the murder!" I cried to the coroner as I
pointed to the foot-prints in the clay.</p>
<p>He bent over beside me and examined the marks.</p>
<p>"Ah——Mose was present," he said slowly, "but so was someone else. See,
here is the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_145" id="Page_145"></SPAN></span> print of the Colonel's boot and there beside it is the
print of another boot; it is fully an inch broader."</p>
<p>But it was difficult to make out anything clearly, so trampled was the
path. Our whole party had passed over the very spot not an hour before
the tragedy. Whatever the others could see, I, myself, was blind to
everything but the indisputable fact that Mose had been there.</p>
<p>As we were making ready to start back to the mouth of the cave, a cry
from one of the men called our attention again to the scene of the
struggle. He held up in his hand a small, gleaming object which he had
found trodden into the path. It was a silver match box covered with
dents and mud and marked "R. F. G." I recognized it instantly; I had
seen Radnor take it from his pocket a hundred times. As I looked at it
now my hope seemed to vanish and that same sickening suspicion rushed
over me again. The men eyed each other silently, and I did not have to
ask what they were thinking of. We turned without comments and started
on our journey<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_146" id="Page_146"></SPAN></span> back to the village. The body was carried to the hotel
to await the coroner's permission to take it home to Four-Pools. There
was nothing more for me to do, and with a heavy heart I mounted again to
return to the plantation.</p>
<p>Scarcely had I left the stable yard when I heard hoofs pounding along
behind me in the darkness, and Jim Mattison galloped up with two of his
men.</p>
<p>"If you are going to Four-Pools we will ride with you," he said, falling
into pace beside me while the officers dropped behind. "I might as well
tell you," he added, "that it looks black for Radnor. I'm sorry, but
it's my duty to keep him under arrest until some pretty strong
counter-evidence turns up."</p>
<p>"Where's Cat-Eye Mose?" I cried. "Why don't you arrest him?"</p>
<p>The sheriff made a gesture of disdain.</p>
<p>"That's nonsense. Everyone in the county knows Cat-Eye Mose. He wouldn't
hurt a fly. If he was present at the time of the crime it was to help
his master, and the man who killed Colonel Gaylord killed him too. I've<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_147" id="Page_147"></SPAN></span>
known him all my life and I can swear he's innocent."</p>
<p>"You've known Radnor all your life," I returned bitterly.</p>
<p>"Yes," he said, "I have—and Jefferson Gaylord, too."</p>
<p>I rode on in silence and I do not think I ever hated anyone as, for the
moment, I hated the man beside me. I knew that he was thinking of Polly
Mathers, and I imagined that I could detect an undertone of triumph in
his voice.</p>
<p>"It's well known," he went on, half to himself and half to me, "that
Radnor sometimes had high words with his father; and to-day, they tell
me at the hotel, he came back alone without waiting for the others, and
while his horse was being saddled he drank off two glasses of brandy as
if they had been water. All the men on the veranda marked how white his
face was, and how he cursed the stable boy for being slow. It was
evident that something had happened in the cave, and what with finding
his match box at the scene of the crime—circumstantial evidence is
pretty strong against him."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_148" id="Page_148"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>I was too miserable to think of any answer; and, the fellow finally
having the decency to keep quiet, we galloped the rest of the way in
silence.</p>
<p>Though it must have been long after midnight when we reached the house,
lights were still burning in the downstairs rooms. We rode up to the
portico with considerable clamor and dismounted. One of the men held the
horses while Mattison and the other followed me into the house. Rad
himself, hearing the noise of our arrival, came to the door to meet us.
He was quite composed again and spoke in his usual manner.</p>
<p>"Hello, Arnold! Did you find him, and is the party over?"</p>
<p>He stopped uncertainly as he caught sight of the others. They stepped
into the hall and stood watching him a moment without saying anything. I
tried to tell him but the words seemed to stick in my throat.</p>
<p>"A—a terrible thing has happened, Rad," I stammered out.</p>
<p>"What's the matter?" he asked, a sudden look of anxiety springing to his
face.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_149" id="Page_149"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>"I am sorry, Rad," Mattison replied, "but it is my duty to arrest you."</p>
<p>"To arrest me, for what?" he asked with a half laugh.</p>
<p>"For the murder of your father."</p>
<p>Radnor put out his hand against the wall to steady himself, and his lips
showed white in the lamp light. At the sight of his face I could have
sworn that he was not acting, and that the news came with as much of a
shock to him as it had to me.</p>
<p>"My father murdered!" he gasped. "What do you mean?"</p>
<p>"His dead body was found in the cave, and circumstantial evidence points
to you."</p>
<p>He seemed too dazed to grasp the words and Mattison said it twice before
he comprehended.</p>
<p>"Do you mean he's dead?" Rad repeated. "And I quarrelled with him last
night and wouldn't make it up—and now it's too late."</p>
<p>"I must warn you," the sheriff returned, "that whatever you say will be
used against you."</p>
<p>"I am innocent," said Radnor, brokenly,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_150" id="Page_150"></SPAN></span> and without another word he
prepared to go. Mattison drew some hand-cuffs from his pocket, and
Radnor looked at them with a dark flush.</p>
<p>"You needn't be afraid. I am not going to run away," he said. Mattison
dropped them back again with a muttered apology.</p>
<p>I went out to the stable with one of the men and helped to saddle Jennie
Loo. I felt all the time as though I had hold of the rope that was going
to hang him. When we came back he and the sheriff were standing on the
portico, waiting. Rad appeared to be more composed than any of us, but
as I wrung his hand I noticed that it was icy cold.</p>
<p>"I'll attend to everything," I said, "and don't worry, my boy. We'll get
you off."</p>
<p>"Don't worry!" He laughed shortly as he leaped into the saddle. "It's
not myself I'm worrying over; I am innocent," and he suddenly leaned
forward and scanned my face in the light from the open door. "You
believe me?" he asked quickly.</p>
<p>"Yes," I cried, "I do! And what's more, I'll <i>prove</i> you're innocent."</p>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_151" id="Page_151"></SPAN></span></p>
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