Johnny copied names in his notebook. Bart had no idea where the cook was nor the upstaiis maid or tlie weekly cleaning woman. The yardman's name was Delevan.
'But would he have been here at night?' asked Johnny.
'As a matter of fact, he was here that night. I know the poHce heard his testimony. But he was never called.'
'What was his testimony?'
'That I don't know.'
'How come he was here?'
'Why he—There used to be a hammock slung between two trees in the grove out at the front. It seems when he had worked late, and wanted to be here early the next day, he'd sometimes beg a meal in the kitchen and sleep in the hammock. My father discharged him when this came out. The hammock was supposed to be exclusively for the family.' Bart seemed to stand, with the family's pride falling raggedly across his shoulders.
'He was never put on the stand at the trial?'
'No.'
'I wonder why not.'
'Must be that he saw absolutely nothing,' said Bart Bartee.
'Is there any kind of address? Wait . . .' Jolinny snapped
his fingers. 'I know where he is. Somebody told me he lives in some little settlement. Twomey? His testimony alibied Nathaniel!'
'Nathaniel,' said Bart contempuously, 'couldn't kill spiders. My mother used to do it for himi.'
CHAPTER 14
Johnny followed Bart along the red carpet. In the parlor, Nan was tucked close to Dick on a pale yellow sofa. Dorothy and Blanche were seated apart. The old lady had vanished.
As Bart strode in, Blanche sent him a begging smile. Her thin face, upon which the high-bridged nose seemed so prominent, became pathetic.
'Any luck?' asked Dick.
'Not much,' said Johnny, when Bart did not answer, ^t^am-had gone out^f Bart. Whatever he had intended to do or say, he now hesitated.
'Well, do you give up?' Dick said impudently.
Dorothy said, as if she could hold this in no longer, 'It's just incredible to me! People mustn't do that!'
'Do what?' asked Dick alertly.
'Conceal things. Make private judgments about the truth in a—in a public matter. A matter of murderl I'm sorry, but I think it's frightening.'
No Bartee spoke. Nan said, 'But, Dotty, when Dick's father asked for help, Dick wanted to protect him.'
'You mustn't protect,' cried Dorothy fiercely. 'You must have the faith not to protect. I think there has been a terrible wrong done somewhere.'
Dick said, 'Kids, Dotty.' His eyes rested on her.
'I understand,' said Dorothy. 'But that doesn't excuse. You can understand all you want to and all you ought to, but that doesn't mean you approve. Or that WTong is not wrong.'
'She is right,' said Bart firmly. 'Too many people didn't tell all they knew. Mother. Nathaniel. You, Dick. Blanche.'
'Oh, Bart, please,' Blanche began to cry.
Dick said to Johnny with an air of anger suppressed, 'Now that you've got Blanche in tears and the whole house unhappy, do you think you have proved McCauley innocent? Or me guilty?'
'No,' said Johnny.
Nan raised her lashes. Her brown eyes were somber. 'Johnny, you have done enough damage, really you have. Now, that you understand it all, please, will you just stop?' He didn't speak and the eyes began to glisten with tears. 'Do you like making me unhappy? The past is past. I thought you . . .'
Johnny looked at her. Doubt was not for Nan. To tell her who she was would make no difference. It would only be unkind.
'I had better go,' he said.
His hostess in tears, his host distracted, Dick unanswerable. Nan unhappy. And Christy McCauley dead these seventeen years. Yes, he had better go.
Dorothy went with him to the door. Johnny had nothing for her but a sad shake of his head. No proof. Nothing, in all that had come out, proved McCauley innocent. Must Nan, then, ever know who she was?
Dorothy, of course, did not know who Nan was. Dorothy said furiously, 'There is too dam much that never was told straight. Johnny, what is the meaning of it? Who did kill Chi-istyr
'How do I know?' said Johnny gloomily. 'How can I find out who killed Christy? It was seventeen years ago.'
In the parlor, Dick said into Nan's ear, 'You are right, love. Past is past. If we were only married, we could go
