The trail was not a difficult one to follow. The night was particularly black, with low-hanging clouds which seemed to hold a threat of rain, and the wind sighed dolefully through the scrub pines. Against this dim murkiness the figure of the woman in white stood out ghostily.
“Poor Minnie Webb!” mused Colonel Ashley, as he hurried on after her. “She must be desperate now—after what she heard. I wonder—”
He did not put his wonder into words then, but his suspicion was confirmed as he saw her head for the bridge that spanned a creek, not far from where the ferry ran over to Loch Harbor.
At certain times this creek was not deep enough to afford passage for small rowboats, but when the tide was in there was draught enough for motor launches.
“And the tide is in now,” mused the colonel, as he remembered passing among the sand dunes late that afternoon, and noting the state of the sea. “Too bad, poor little woman!” he added gently, as he followed her. “Not so fast! Not so fast! There is no need of rushing to destruction. It comes soon enough without our going out to meet it. Poor girl!”
He went on through the darkness, following, following, following distracted Minnie, who, with the fateful words still ringing in her ears, hardly knew whither she hurried.
Colonel Ashley, in spite of the desperate manner in which the chase had begun, felt that he was safe from observation. He had on dark clothes, which did not contrast so strongly with the night as did the light and filmy dress of Minnie Webb. Besides, she was too distracted to notice that she was being followed.
“She is going to the bridge, and the tide is in,” mused the detective. “I didn't think she had that much spunk—for it does take spunk to attempt anything like this in the dark. However, I'll try to get there as soon as she does.”
The fleeing girl in white passed over an open moor, fleeced here and there with scanty bushes, which gave the detective all the cover he needed. But the girl did not look back, and the night was dark. The clouds were thicker too, and the very air seemed so full of rain that an incautious movement would bring it spattering about one's head, as a shake of a tree, after a shower, precipitates the drops.
And then there suddenly loomed, like grotesque shadows on the night, two other figures at the very end of the bridge that Minnie Webb sought to cross. They seemed to bar her way, and yet they were as much startled as she, for they drew back on her approach.
And Colonel Ashley, stealing his way up unseen, heard from Minnie Webb the startled ejaculation:
“LeGrand! You here? And who—who is this?”
Then, as if in defiance, or perhaps to see who the challenger was, the figure standing beside that of LeGrand Blossom flashed a little pocket electric torch. And by the gleam of it Colonel Ashley saw the large blonde woman again.
“Morocco Kate!” he murmured. “So she is mixed up in it after all! I think I begin to see daylight in spite of the darkness. Morocco Kate!”
Then, crouching down behind some bushes, he waited and listened and thought swiftly.
“Speak to me!” implored Minnie of the young man. “What does it mean, LeGrand? Why are you here with—with—”
“He knows my name well enough, if he wants to tell it,” broke in the other. “I'm not ashamed of it, either. But who are you, I'd like to know? I never saw you before!” and the blonde woman flashed her light full on Minnie's white face.
And as the girl shrank back, Morocco Kate, so called, sneered:
“Some one else he's got on a string, I suppose! Ho! It's a merry life you lead, LeGrand Blossom!”
“Stop!” the young man exclaimed. “I can't let you go on this way. Minnie, please leave us for a moment. I'll come to you as soon as I can.”
“Oh, yes! Of course!” sneered the other. “She's younger and prettier than I—quite a flapper. I was that way—once. And I suppose you said the same thing to some one else you wanted to get rid of before you took me on. Oh, to the devil with the men, anyhow!”
Minnie gasped.
“Shocked you, did I, kid? Well, you'll hear worse than that, believe me. If I was to tell—”
“Stop!” and LeGrand Blossom snapped out the words in such a manner that the desperate woman did stop.
“Minnie, go away,” he pleaded, more gently. “I'll come to you as soon as I can, and explain everything. Please believe in me!”
“I—I don't believe I can—again, LeGrand,” faltered Minnie. “I—I heard what you said to her just now—that you couldn't do anything more for her. Oh, what have you been doing for her? Who is she? Tell me! Oh, I must hear it, though I dread it!”
“Yes, you shall hear it!” cried LeGrand Blossom, and there was desperation in his voice. “I was going to tell you, anyhow, before I married you—”
“Oh, you're really going to marry her, are you?” sneered the blonde. “Really? How interesting!”
“Will you be quiet?” said LeGrand, and there was that in his voice which seemed to cow the blonde woman.
“Minnie,” went on LeGrand Blossom, “its a hard thing for a man to talk about a woman, but sometimes it has to be done. And it's doubly hard when it's about a woman a man once cared for. But I'm going to take my medicine, and she's got to take hers.”
“I'm no quitter! I'm a sport, I am!” was the defiant remark. “So was Mr. Carwell—Old Carwell we used to call him. But he had more pep than some of you younger chaps.
“Leave his name out of this!” growled LeGrand, like some dog trying to keep his temper against the attacks of a cur.
“This woman—I needn't tell you her name now, for she has several,” he went on to Minnie. “This woman and I were once engaged to be married. She was younger then—and—different. But she began drinking and—well, she became impossible. Believe me,” he said, turning to the figure beside him, “I don't want to tell this, but I've got to square myself.”
“Yes,” and the other's voice was broken. “I may as well give up now as later. If anything can be saved out of the wreck—my wreck—go to it! Shoot, kid! Tell the worst! I'll stand the gaff!”
“Well, that makes it easier,” resumed Blossom. “We were going to be married, but she got in with a fast crowd, and I couldn't stand the pace. I admit, I wasn't sport enough.”
“I'm glad you weren't,” murmured Minnie, her breast heaving.
“The result was,” went on Blossom, “that she and I separated. It was as much her wish as mine—toward the end. And she married a Frenchman with whom she seemed to be fascinated.”
“Yes, he sure had me hypnotized,” agreed the blonde woman. “It was more my fault than yours, Lee. Perhaps if you'd taken a whip to me, and made me behave—Some of us women need a beating now and then. But it's too late now.” Of a sudden she seemed strangely subdued.
LeGrand Blossom went on with the sordid tale.
“Well, the marriage didn't turn out happily. It was—”
“It was hell! I'm not afraid to use the word!” interrupted the blonde. “It was just plain, unadulterated hell! And I went into it with my eyes open. That's what it was—hell! I've had such a lot here on earth that maybe they'll give me a discount when I get—well, when I get where I'm going!” and she laughed, but there was no mirth in it.
Minnie shuddered, and drew nearer to LeGrand. And it did not seem to be because of the chill night wind, either.
“It was the same old story,” went on the clerk. “No need of going over that, Minnie. It doesn't concern the question now. In the end the Frenchman cast her off, and she had to live, somehow. She came to me, and I, for the sake of old times, agreed to help her. I didn't think I was doing anything wrong; but it seems I was. I thought the rare and expensive book publishing business she said she was in was legitimate. Instead it was—”
“Yes, it was a blackmailing scheme!” interrupted Morocco Kate, not without some curious and perverted sense of pride. “I admit that. I got you in wrong, LeGrand, but it wasn't because I hated you, for I didn't. I really loved you, and I was a fool to take up with Jean. But that's past and gone. Only I didn't really mean to make trouble for you. I thought you might be able to wiggle out, knowing business men as you did.”
“Instead,” said the clerk, “I only became the more involved. It began to look as though I was a partner in the infernal schemes, and she and those she worked with held the threat over my head to extort money from me.”
“Believe me, LeGrand, I didn't do that willingly,” interrupted Morocco Kate. “The others had a hold over me, and they forced me to use you as their tool. They bled me, as I, in turn, bled you. Oh, it was all a rotten game, and I'm glad the end's at hand. I suppose it's all up now?” she asked Blossom.
“The end is, as far as it concerns you and me,” he said. “I'm going to confess, and take my medicine. Minnie, I've lied to give this woman money to prevent her exposing me. Now I'm through. I've told my last lie, and given my last dollar. Thank God—who has been better to me than I deserve—thank God! I'm still young enough to make good the money I've lost. The lies I can't undo, but I can tell the truth. I'm going to confess everything!”
“Oh, LeGrand!” cried Minnie, and she held out her hands to him. “Not—not everything!”
“Yes, the whole rotten business. That's the only way to begin over again, and begin clean. I'll come through clean!”
“Oh!” murmured Minnie. “It will be so—so hard!”
“Yes,” and LeGrand gritted his teeth, “it isn't going to be easy; but it'll be a bed of roses compared to what I've been lying on the last year. This woman had such a hold on me that I couldn't clear myself before—that is, clear myself of grave charges. But now I can. This is the end. I can prove that I wasn't mixed up in the Roswell de luxe book case, and that's what she's been holding over me.”
“The Roswell case!” faltered Minnie.
“Yes, you don't know about it, but I'll tell you, later. Now I'm free. This is the end. I came here to-night to tell her so. How you happened to follow me I don't know.”
“I didn't follow, LeGrand. It was all an accident.”
“Then it's a lucky accident, Minnie. This is the end. From now on—”
“Yes, it's the end!” bitterly cried the other woman. “It's the end of everything. Oh, if I could only make it the end for Jean Carnot, I'd be satisfied. He made me what I am—an outcast from the world. If I could find Jean Carnot—”
And then, with the suddenness of a bird wheeling in mid air, the blonde woman turned and rushed away in the darkness.
For an instant Colonel Ashley hesitated in his hiding place. And then he murmured:
“I guess you'll keep, LeGrand Blossom, and you, too, Minnie Webb. Morocco Kate needs watching. And I think, now, she'll lead me right where I've been wanting to go for a long time. The darkness is fast fading away,” which was a strange thing to say, seeing that the night was blacker than ever.
Back on the desolate moor, near the bridge under which the black tide was now hurrying, murmuring and whispering to the rushes tales of the deep and distant sea, stood two figures.
“Do you believe in me, Minnie?” asked the man brokenly.
There was a pause. The murmuring of the tide grew louder, and it seemed to sing now, as it rose higher and higher.
“Do you?” he repeated, wistfully.
“Yes,” was the whispered reply. “And, Lee, I'll help you to come through—clean! I believe in you!”
And the tide washed up the shores of the creek so that, even in the darkness, the white sands seemed to gleam.
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