If you had asked her, you know, she would have told you; but you never said a word about it."
"How could I ask her when I didn't know anything about it?"
"I managed to ask her," said Terry, "and what's more," he added gloomily, "I promised it shouldn't go any further—that is, than is necessary to get Rad off.
Now don't you call that pretty tough luck, after coming 'way down here just to find out the truth, not to be allowed to print it when I've got it?
How in the deuce am I to account for Rad's behavior without mentioning her?"
"You needn't have promised," I suggested.
"Oh, well," Terry grinned, "I'm human!"
I let this pass and he added hastily, "We've disposed of Jeff; we've disposed of Radnor, but the real murderer is still to be found."
"And that," I declared, "is Cat-Eye Mose."
"It's possible," agreed Terry with a shrug. "But I have just the tiniest little entering wedge of a suspicion that the real murderer is not Cat-Eye Mose."
CHAPTER XXI MR. TERENCE KIRKWOOD PATTEN OF NEW YORK
"There is Luray," I said, pointing with my whip to the scattered houses of the village as they lay in the valley at our feet.
Terry stretched out a hand and pulled the horses to a standstill.
"Whoa, just a minute till I get my bearings.
Now, in which direction is the cave?"
"It extends all along underneath us.
The entrance is over there in the undergrowth about a mile to the east."
"And the woods extend straight across the mountain in an unbroken line?"
"Pretty much so.
There are a few farms scattered in."
"How about the farmers?
Are they well-to-do around here?"
"I think on the whole they are."
"Which do they employ mostly to work in the fields, negroes or white men?"
"As to that I can't say.
It depends largely on circumstances.
I think the smaller farms are more likely to employ white men."
"Let me see," said Terry, "this is just about planting time.
Are the farmers likely to take on extra men at this season?"
"No, I don't think so; harvest time is when they are more likely to need help."
"Farming is new to me," laughed Terry. "East Side problems don't involve it.
A man of Mose's habits could hide pretty effectually in those woods if he chose." He scanned the hills again and then brought his eyes back to the village. "I suppose we might as well go on to the hotel first.
I should like to interview some of the people there.
And by the way," he added, "it's as well not to let them know I'm a friend of yours—or a newspaper man either.
I think I'll be a detective.
Your young man from Washington seems to have made quite a stir in regard to the robbery; we'll see if I can't beat him.
There's nothing that so impresses a rural population as a detective.
They look upon him as omnipotent and omniscient, and every man squirms before him in the fear that his own little sins will be brought to light." Terry laughed in prospect. "Introduce me as a detective by all means!"
"Anything you like," I laughed in return. "I'll introduce you as the Pope if you think it will do any good." There was no keeping Terry suppressed, and his exuberance was contagious.
I was beginning to feel light-hearted myself.
The hotel at Luray was a long rambling structure which had been casually added to from time to time.
It was painted a sickly, mustard yellow (a color which, the landlord assured me, would last forever) but it's brilliancy was somewhat toned by a thick coating of dust.
A veranda extended across the front of the building flush with the wooden side-walk.
The veranda was furnished with a railing, and the railing was furnished at all times of the day—except for a brief nooning from twelve to half-past—with a line of boot-soles in assorted sizes.
We drew up with a flourish before the wooden steps in front of the hotel, and I threw the lines to the stable boy who came forward to receive us with an amusing air of importance.
His connection with the Luray tragedy conferred a halo of distinction, and he realized the fact.
It was not every one in the neighborhood who had had the honor of being cursed by a murderer.
As we alighted Terry stopped to ask him a few questions.
The boy had told his story to so many credulous audiences that by this time it was well-nigh unrecognizable.
As he repeated it now for Terry's benefit, the evidence against Radnor appeared conclusive.