Inseparable as the
words "speculation" and "peculation" have grown to be, John
Bailey was not known to be in the stock market. His only words,
after his surrender, had been "Send for Mr. Armstrong at once."
The telegraph message which had finally reached the President of
the Traders' Bank, in an interior town in California, had been
responded to by a telegram from Doctor Walker, the young
physician who was traveling with the Armstrong family, saying
that Paul Armstrong was very ill and unable to travel.
That was how things stood that Tuesday evening. The Traders'
Bank had suspended payment, and John Bailey was under arrest,
charged with wrecking it; Paul Armstrong lay very ill in
California, and his only son had been murdered two days before.
I sat dazed and bewildered. The children's money was gone: that
was bad enough, though I had plenty, if they would let me share.
But Gertrude's grief was beyond any power of mine to comfort; the
man she had chosen stood accused of a colossal embezzlement--and
even worse. For in the instant that I sat there I seemed to
see the coils closing around John Bailey as the murderer of
Arnold Armstrong.
Gertrude lifted her head at last and stared across the table at
Halsey.
"Why did he do it?" she wailed. "Couldn't you stop him, Halsey?
It was suicidal to go back!"
Halsey was looking steadily through the windows of the breakfast-
room, but it was evident he saw nothing.
"It was the only thing he could do, Trude," he said at last.
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