FullReads

On being called to the telephone at ten in the morning, Aline demanded to know what could excuse Griswold for rousing her in the middle of the night!

Griswold replied that, though the day was young, it also was charming; that on Sunday there might be rain; and that if she desired to see the house he and Post thought would most suit her, he and his car would be delighted to convey her to it. They could make the run in an hour, lunch with friends at Westbury, and return in plenty of time for the theatre. Aline was delighted at the sudden interest Griswold was showing in the new house. Without a moment’s hesitation she walked into the trap. She would go, she declared, with pleasure. In an hour he should call for her.

Exactly an hour later Post arrived at his office. He went directly to Cochran.

“Charles,” he said, “I’m afraid I got you into trouble yesterday. I took a client to see your house. You have often let us do it before; but since I was there last you’ve made some changes. In your bedroom–” Post stopped.

Cochran’s naive habit of blushing told him it was not necessary to proceed. In tones of rage and mortification Cochran swore explosively; Post was relieved to find he was swearing at himself.

“I ought to be horsewhipped!” roared Cochran. “I’ll never forgive myself! Who,” he demanded, “saw the pictures? Was it a man or a woman?”

Post laughed unhappily.

“It was Chester Griswold.”

A remarkable change came over Cochran. Instead of sobering him, as Post supposed it would, the information made him even more angry–only now his anger was transferred from himself to Griswold.

“The blankety-blank bounder!” yelled Cochran. “That was what he wanted! That’s why he came here!”

“Here!” demanded Post.

“Not an hour ago,” cried Cochran. “He asked me about Bar Harbor. He saw those pictures were taken at Bar Harbor!”

“I think,” said Post soothingly, “he’d a right to ask questions. There were so many pictures, and they were very–well–very!”

“I’d have answered his questions,” roared Cochran, “if he’d asked them like a man, but he came snooping down here to spy on me. He tried to trick me. He insulted me! He insulted her!” He emitted a howl of dismay. “And I told him I’d never been to Bar Harbor– that I’d never met Aline Proctor!”

Cochran seized his coat and hat. He shouted to one of the office boys to telephone the garage for his car.

“What are you–where are you going?” demanded Post.

“I’m going home first,” cried Cochran, “to put those pictures in a safe, as I should have done three months ago. And then I’m going to find Chester Griswold and tell him he’s an ass and a puppy!”

“If you do that,” protested Post, “you’re likely to lose us a very valuable client.”

“And your client,” roared Charles, “is likely to lose some very valuable teeth!”

As Charles whirled into the country road in which stood his house he saw drawn up in front of it the long gray car in which, that morning, Chester Griswold had called at the office. Cochran emitted a howl of anger. Was his home again to be invaded? And again while he was absent? To what extreme would Griswold’s jealousy next lead him? He fell out of his own car while it still moved, and leaped up the garden walk. The front rooms of the house were empty, but from his bedroom he heard, raised in excited tones, the voice of Griswold. The audacity of the man was so surprising, and his own delight at catching him red-handed so satisfying, that no longer was Cochran angry. The Lord had delivered his enemy into his hands! And, as he advanced toward his bedroom, not only was he calm, but, at the thought of his revenge, distinctly jubilant. In the passageway a frightened maid servant, who, at his unexpected arrival, was now even more frightened, endeavored to give him an explanation; but he waved her into silence, and, striding before her, entered his bedroom.