In Jeopardy - free ebook by Van Tassel Sutphen

Van Tassel Sutphen

Author of "The Cardinal's Rose," Etc. Copyright, 1922 By Harper &amp; Brothers...

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I Find Some New Relations

The letter which lay before me had been written in old-fashioned longhand on the business stationery of the law firm of Eldon &amp; Crawford, their given address being Calverton, Maryland. For the third time I read over the missive, although certainly it was short and to the point, its meaning unmistakable. But judge for yourself. Calverton, Maryland , June 22, 1919. My dear Sir ,—The funeral services for the late Francis Hildebrand Graeme Esqre., of "Hildebrand Hundred," King William County

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The Setting of the Stage

S. Saviour's, with its tiny portico and steeple of distinctly Christopher Wren design, presented an interesting study in colonial architecture. It was built of brick, with solid, white wooden shutters, and the side walls were mantled by a wonderful growth of true English ivy. There was no central entrance, access to the interior being afforded by two side doors at the extreme ends of the portico. The reason for this unusual arrangement became apparent upon entering the church, the shallow chance

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Hildebrand of the "Hundred"

It must have been close to an hour before Mr. Eldon joined us; evidently his papers had been in more than usual confusion. A few minutes later the ladies appeared, together with a dozen or more negro servants connected in various capacities with the estate. John Thaneford jerked himself to his feet in apparently unwilling acknowledgment of the social amenities; his father, sitting impassively upright in an immense leather chair, looked more than ever like some gigantic, impossible infant. Miss G

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Some Hypothetical Questions

Dinner was not a particularly cheerful meal. I had to take the head of the table, and therefore sat in the chair so lately vacated by my Cousin Francis Graeme. Really I should have preferred a decent delay in the matter, but old Effingham, the family butler for two generations past, would have it so, and any protest would have been both futile and unseemly. There were three of us at table, for Doctor Marcy was staying on to look after the sick man, and would remain over night in default of the r

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The Missing Link

"I beg your pardon," repeated Doctor Marcy, looking at me uncertainly. "I should beg yours, doctor," I answered as easily as I could. Some sixth sense had made me aware that Betty Graeme was standing in the shadow behind me. She must have heard more than enough already, and now she would demand the whole truth. Assuredly I must protect her in her evident desire to remain unnoticed. "I didn't mean to interrupt," I continued, "but my cigarette was burning my fingers—too much interested, you see."

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"Madame Colette Marinette."

Dr. Marcy was the first person to join me in the breakfast room the following morning. To my surprise, he informed me that Mr. Fielding Thaneford had passed a comfortable night and was better. "Of course I am speaking in comparative terms," he added. "The old man has had a stroke of apoplexy. He is partially paralyzed on the right side, and his power of speech is gone entirely. He cannot recover, but he may linger on for some time." "A week?" "Perhaps longer. It is impossible to say—and here com

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The Whispering Gallery

The long afternoon went by, but we had accomplished nothing more than the consumption of an unlimited amount of tobacco. "Certainly not convincing evidence," said Warriner with a final shrug of his shoulders. "Still my yellow rose is worth preserving along with the moth cocoon," and he put the pathetic dead flower carefully away in his empty cigarette case. For a minute or two the silence remained unbroken. "I wonder if you would mind spending a few days here at the 'Hundred?'" I blurted out; su

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Adventuring on "Sugar Loaf"

It was a glorious summer morning, and as I descended the staircase I could look through the wide opened door and see the rolling acres of "Hildebrand Hundred" lying gracious and fair under a cloudless sky. Bees were humming among the flowers, and a whiff of new mown hay drifted in on a vagrant breeze. Yes, this old world is a pretty pleasant place to live in, provided of course that one doesn't make a tactical mistake and settle down too far East or West, as the case may be. But given the right

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1-4-2-4-8

A full fortnight went by, and we seemed to be simply marking time. Warriner was still away, and I had had no word of importance from him. Mr. Fielding Thaneford's condition showed little apparent change, but Miss Davenport told me privately that he was failing steadily. John Thaneford had called some half a dozen times, but his visits to the sick room had been brief and entirely devoid of incident. Either Miss Davenport or Betty and I took care to be present whenever he appeared, and there had b

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I Receive an Ultimatum

Fielding Thaneford was buried three days later in S. Saviour's churchyard. As relatives, even in remote degree, we were bound to attend the services, and also to be present at the interment. For Betty it was an ordeal, the reopening of a half-closed wound, and I could feel her hand tremble as it lay in the crook of my arm, the grave yawning at our feet. In my capacity as Hildebrand of the "Hundred" I was already her official protector, and I was looking forward to the establishment of a relation

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The Rider of the Black Horse

Given the exigency, and through what tortuous and secret channels will not the human mind seek to communicate with its kind! Call it telepathy or what not, the phenomenon itself is a well established fact; one that we accept without attempting to explain it. Not a syllable of Warriner's message had crossed my lips, and yet by breakfast time the bruit of it was in the very air; the negroes were collecting here and there in little whispering groups; I overheard Eunice Trevor telephoning to Calvert

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Safe Find, Safe Bind

Let me now pass over some six months concerning which there are no events of particular moment to be recorded—I mean in connection with the tragedy. Late in December Betty and I were married very quietly-at S. Saviour's Church, Bob Mercer coming down to assist in the ceremony. During the summer and autumn I had been absent almost continuously in Philadelphia, engaged in winding up the trusteeship which had formed the bulk of my professional work. Of course, I had already come to a full understan

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Le Chiffre Indéchiffrable

During the world war I had been on duty in the intelligence department, and I had taken much interest in the science of cryptography, although not connected personally with the handling of cypher despatches. I could therefore explain to Betty that cypher systems fall under four general heads. 1. The giving to words, or groups of letters, a purely arbitrary significance. 2. The use of mechanical transformers in the shape of a screen or grid. 3. The substitution of numbers or other symbols for the

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Another Break in the Circle

It was the first of June and the loveliest time of the year at the "Hundred." Why had I never realized before that, in spite of my urban upbringing, I was a born countryman? Can there be a greater pleasure in life than living on one's own land, and honestly plying the oldest and most important of human industries—the tilling of the soil! Provided, of course, that one possesses a reasonable amount of capital; the hand-to-mouth struggle of the poor farmer is deadening to both soul and body; as one

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One Corner of the Veil

The MS. began abruptly, without either preamble or address: I am sitting here in the library of "Hildebrand Hundred"—the room in which five men have met their death—and while I am waiting I shall set down certain data and figures which should prove of more than ordinary interest to anyone who has the wit to discern their underlying meaning. But judge for yourselves. The Hildebrands have been at the "Hundred" since the settlement of the province by the Calverts. All of the earlier generations wer

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Ad Interim

I never sent for Warriner to come and discuss Eunice Trevor's astonishing communication. Why? Well, what would have been the use? After all, the woman had told us little or nothing which we had not known already; certainly, there was no definite information in her statement upon which to base a working hypothesis. Granted that there was a guilty secret, it lay hidden for all time in S. Saviour's churchyard. Both Eunice Trevor and John Thaneford may have been innocent of any actual participation

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The Midsummer Night's Ball

And now I come to a certain chapter of my book of life which I would fain leave unwritten. But I am bound to set down the full truth, no matter how unpleasant the bare, ugly facts may be. No one can blame me more hardly than I did myself, and assuredly I was well punished for my misdoings. So here goes. I had become jealous of Chalmers Warriner, bitterly, almost insanely jealous; and this in spite of my sober judgment, my real inner conviction of Betty's unswerving loyalty and wholehearted love.

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I Break a Promise

Needless to say that the summer dragged heavily with me. Betty wrote regularly, but her letters were of a strictly impersonal nature, and I took especial care to answer in the same vein. Luckily, there was little Hugh as a point of common interest, and we made the most of it. But neither of us offered the least allusion to the real crisis in our relations. I was frankly and wretchedly unhappy, and I could only hope that Betty was no better satisfied with the situation. I kept busy, of course, wi

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The Seat Perilous

Wednesday, the twentieth of June, was the blackest of all black days. When Betty's letter came I found it very unsatisfactory reading. Warriner had been making the most of his opportunities; that was certain. He had been over twice for five-o'clock-tea, and a number of pleasant affairs were in prospect—a water party on the Bowl, a day's golf at Pittsfield, a masked ball at Lenox; so it went. Apparently Betty was in for a royal good time, and she had no compunction in making me aware of the fact.

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The Blind Terror

For three days I wandered in a phantasmagoric wilderness, my principal obsession making me identify myself with that pair of Hebrew spies staggering under the weight of those enormous grapes; would we never lose sight of Rahab's scarlet cord, and be again in safety and quiet! Then the confusion in my head cleared away, and I saw that it was really Betty who sat by my bed and not "Black Jack" Thaneford. Yes, John Thaneford lies quiet and still in S. Saviour's churchyard—with his forefathers and m

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A Lost Clue

"Suppose we admit, for the sake of argument," began Betty "that John Thaneford was in possession of the secret. Then everything points back to his father, old Fielding, who certainly had all the brains of the family. Last and most important, it was a secret which Mr. Thaneford, senior, desired to impart to me; he did tell me all he could." "The series of numbers, you mean? I recall them perfectly: 1-4-2-4-8. And what then?" "Do you remember the story of Christian and his fellow pilgrim, Hopeful,

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The Grapes of Wrath

Thane Court, August third, eighteen-ninety-two. Now that a son is born to me, Fielding Thaneford of King William county, Maryland, it is fitting that I set down in order the form and measure of my vengeance upon the traitor Yardley Hildebrand; also upon those who may come after him until the end of time. Back in 1854 I was a young man of nine-and-twenty. Yardley Hildebrand was some twenty years my senior, yet we were close friends owing to our common interest in scientific studies, he as a chemi

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The End of the Coil

Warriner laid the book on the table, and pulled out his pipe. I think it was a full five minutes before any of us said a word. But Betty kept her hand close-locked in mine. "Any particular questions?" said Warriner at length. "If I've got the hang of it," I began, "the Sigma ray was bound to get the man or woman who happened to be sitting in that big chair on the specified dates in June when the sun was in position to shine through the bullseye lens." "Yes." "Then I escaped through the accident

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