Part 16

“At length the Jury filed out, and Patty was taken out of Court, her eyes blazing with excitement, and two red stains flaming in her cheeks. The Jury were out for three and a half hours. It was known afterwards that two of them long held out for a verdict of guilty, but in the end gave way, and in a quivering silence the foreman pronounced ‘Not guilty,’ which would undoubtedly have been ‘Not proven’ in Scotland.

“And that, Robert, was the end of the ‘Balland Mystery’--till you took that afternoon stroll.”

“What happened to Patty?” I asked.

“She dodged the vast crowd awaiting her, and disappeared from the knowledge of men till two years later she was found dead from an overdose of cocaine in a Buenos Aires Hotel--she had been ‘White-slaving’ apparently. She made no attempt to get the £30,000, Richard’s next of kin winning the action for undue influence unopposed. Mason died in prison three years after the trial.”

“Now tell me again just exactly what you saw.”

I did so. When I had finished he said, “There was one little detail you mentioned that time which you didn’t mention before: you say she paused for a moment by a tree?”

“Yes, she just hesitated for a moment or two and then disappeared.”

“Look here,” said Myers, “this fascinates me. Could I come down with you and see the place?”

“Of course you can,” I said. “We can go to-morrow if you like.”

“We’ll go down in the car,” said Myers. “I’ll pick you up at ten.”

We lunched at the house, and then walked down to the scene of my vision. I pointed out to my highly excited companion the exact spot, and he regarded it reverently.

“Was this the tree?” he asked, pointing to a fine cedar.

“Yes,” I replied.

“And she paused just here?”

“Yes.”

Myers examined the trunk carefully, and then turned to me suddenly. “Look here,” he said, and he pointed to a hole of medium size about the level of his waist in the cedar.

“Good Lord!” he said, “I wonder! I wonder! Look here, run up to the house and see if you can find a strong knife, I want to get my arm into that hole.”

I eventually waylaid a gardener, who produced a knife, which I took back to Myers. He set to work, and after a few minutes he put down the knife, and with a look of extreme excitement on his face, thrust in his arm to the shoulder. “Empty!” he groaned. “No, by God! it’s not!” He drew up his arm. “Robert, you are the most wonderful man in the world. Do you know what I’ve got in my hand?”

He drew his hand clear of the hole and then opened it, and there was the neatest little Colt revolver. He jerked it open, and there were six cartridges, five unused, one used.

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TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:

Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.

Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.

Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.

Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.

New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.