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.Nathaniel didn't reahze," Johnny said, rising, "but you.?""I understood," the old lady said, openiag her eyes."You come see me again, young man.""I wiU."Blanche's eyes said to him hostilely, No, yoti wont."Realize?" said Bart, after they had gone."What was thatrJohnny answered honestly, "I don't know.""Tricks?"The room was silent.Nan's eyes were round."Years ago," said Dick to her comfortingly."But, really?" Nan said."Killed in this house?""Poor Christy McCauley," Dick said."I barely remember her."Bart rose."I don't like puzzles and tricks.I don't think you can expect any more, Sims."Johnny rose also."No, not here, sir.""You are going to poke around this town?" Bart's voice was light, yet hostile."Yes, sir."Dick had risen too.Nan said nervously, "Johnny, do you have to do this? If—if Bart doesn't want you to.and Blanche doesn't.?"Johnny said, "It's my job.''"But, I told them you were a friend.""I'm that, too," Johnny said with a grin."I understand," he said to Bart, "better than you think I do.I've done such jobs before."Bart gave him a crisp nod of dismissal."Good-night, Nan."Nan's lips were pouting disapproval and did not say good-night.Dick said, in a friendly way, "I'll see you to the door."So they went together out into the red-floored hall and Dick opened a leaf of the front door.He stepped outside,^ himself, and JoJinny followed."Are you really going to stir up this old dust?" Dick asked him.The hght was going and, with the trees so close, the porch was dim,"A job," said Johnny."I m supposed to talk- to people, get the local color, atmosphere, all that.""I suppose you've heard," Dick said, "that there once was a flurry of suspicion that I had killed Christy McCauley? Or haven't you heard that?""I've heard that," Johnny said quietly."From McCauley himself?""No.Grimes told me." Johnny hed.His heart raced.He had almost made the mistake of admitting he'd seen Mcr-Cauley.This man would then know—or would he?—that Johnny must have foimd out from McCauley who Nan was."Going to see McCauley, I suppose?" Dick asked."Strange to think that he is still alive.""After I'm through here," Johnny said.(His thoughts raced.Was the man probing?) "I understand he's sick, right now.In the prison hospital," Johnny said carelessly.The man beside him was looking oflF into the trees."Are you thinking," said Dick in a moment, "that Nan ought to know about those suspicions of me?""What do you think?" said Johnny stiflfly.There was a little silence."They wouldn't make an awfully pleasant wedding present," Dick said softly."No." Johnny's head jerked up."I agree with you on that.''"It was all checked into at the time, you know."^I presumed so," Johnny shrugged."But youTl check again?""I've already checked, a little.I saw George Rush.""ReaUy? Old George? How is he?""He's fine.He—was out that night.""I know." Bartee looked away."Of course, I understand ^ you," he said."Understand?" Johnny's reason sank under the flooding of emotion."I got your girl, eh?" said Dick."Well, have a go at it.I don't suppose I can stop you." The man was smiling.Johnny conquered anger because one shouldn't be angry at what was true.He said, "Did ycni think McCauley was a no-good bum?""That was the consensus around here,'' said Dick."I was just a kid." Then he added."You put me in a spot.I don't know what to do."yodor"About telling Nan." The eyes came back.In the dusk Johnny seemed to feel them resting on him."I suppose I must.""WTiy don't you wait?" said Johnny, feeling sudden dismay.He made himself smile."/ won't tell her, if I don't have to.I can probably make it sound too dull for Grimes.""It is quite dull, as a matter of fact," said Dick Bartee in a moment.He sighed."Maybe I've got you wrong.Maybe I do you an injustice.""Injustice?""Nan's told me all about you.Tve been assuming you— resent me.""Naturally," said Johnny with his best rueful grin."I resent you."The gray eyes smiled back."Well, good hunting." Dick Bartee held out his hand."Convince yourself."Johnny took it.Couldn't stand on niceties.(He could hear Dorothy saying, "What do they matter, if Nan's engaged to a murderer?")He heard himself say, "Thanks a lot," in a voice that sounded weak and confused.Then Johnny set out in his car, tr>ing to think.The old lady.Maybe Clinton McCauley was an awful man who only dreamed that he was a saint.Maybe Dick Bartee was a killer and a fortune-himter.Maybe not.The man had charm.He seemed straightforward.Johnny tried to imagine what he, himself, would say if he were Dick Bartee and innocent.It came out a lot like Dick Bartee.He drove in and found a room at the first motel he came upon.Responsibihty and doubt were hanging heavily upon him.What was it that Nathaniel Bartee had not realized? What was it Dick Bartee admitted when he said he knew that George Rush had been out? Why was Blanche Bartee so very eager to stop Johnny's inquiries?How could he, J.Sims, discover the truth about a kijing seventeen yeaii old? How objectively could he judge? And by what right?CHAPTER 10In the parlor, Bart said, ''I wonder why my father took his gun that night.Do you know I never questioned that before?""If someone were in the house," began Dorothy.Bart said, "If my mother woke him to say she heard Christy and Clint—The point is, Miss Dorothy, Clinton McCauley lived in the house.""Oh?""I'm just ashamed of Johimy," Nan said in a low voice."I'm awfully sorry, Mr.Bartee."Dorothy said, "Probably Johnny thinks he can—well, protect everyone."She faltered and looked up.Bart's smooth face was turned upon her."Perhaps that's it," he said.Blanche hustled in.She wore very high heels.Her legs were thin and sinewy, not pretty."Has he gone?" she asked."Bart, can't you stop this?"Bart said, "No, I don't think so," not vehemently, but thoughtfully.Blanche, looking troubled, said no more.Dorothy perceived that Bart was the head of this house.There was dinner.There was the evening.Dorothy was the gay girl guest.Dick was the happy lover.Nan the petted bride-to-be.Nothing was said about murder.Finally, Dorothy and Nan were alone in the big back bedroom."Isn't it heavenly here?" Nan said."Don't you like them?""Very nice." Dorothy began to whack light into her hair with the stiff brush."I'm glad you came.But I wish to goodness Johnny hadn't talked the way he did.""A job," murmured Dorothy."I don't believe it," Nan cried suddenly."I suppose he thinks / shouldn't be in a house where they once had a murder.As if it had anything to do with me." She shook her head as if to shake this ofiF."Isn't old Mrs.Bartee cute.Dotty?" Nan hugged her knees."Blanche is so nice.Dick's Uncle Bart is just a lamb."Dorothy whacked with the brush.(But a man who lets his mother persecute his wife, she thought, is no lamb.No use for her to speak flash judgments about the Bartees.Nan was in the dream.These were going to be her people.She had dreamed they would be wonderful and so she saw them, in the dream.)"What's this about a wedding?" she asked.''0h, Blanche just insists we have it here." "I think a bride should be married in her own place," said Dorothy slowly."Oh, now, Dotty, don't be ofiFended.It won't be much of a fuss.Only the family
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