The Ponson Case

the butler’s charge; the others, in which the murder was committed, are locked away by Austin, who doubtless takes an early opportunity of destroying them.

Tanner had to admit the ingenuity of the plan. To anyone not knowing there were two pairs of shoes in question, the alibi would be overwhelming.

But completely to prove this theory it would be necessary to show that Austin was at the Abbey at some time other than that he had stated. It was with this object Tanner was returning to Halford.

He made most persistent inquiries, but was unable to find any evidence on this point. None of the cottagers nor farm hands in the vicinity of the Abbey had seen Austin, either on the Wednesday evening or at any other time. Nor had any other stranger been observed. If, however, Austin had been to the Abbey in the middle of the night, as Tanner suspected, the failure to see him was not surprising, and did not invalidate the main conclusion. On the contrary, Tanner believed he had solved his problem. Austin, he felt, was guilty beyond a shadow of doubt.

And then Tanner saw that this solution cleared up another point by which he had been somewhat puzzled, namely, Austin’s readiness, indeed almost eagerness, to tell of his visit to the Abbey. That, he now saw, had been a trap, and he, Tanner, had walked right into it. He saw Austin’s motive now. From the latter’s point of view it was necessary that Tanner should inspect the footprints while they were still fresh. If some days passed before suspicion was aroused, the marks would have become obliterated, and the alibi worthless. Austin was a cleverer man than the Inspector had given him credit for. By his manner he had deliberately roused the latter’s suspicions so that his alibi might be established while the footprints were clear.

That evening Tanner made careful notes of the evidence he had accumulated against Austin Ponson. When the document was completed, it read:

1. Austin never got on with Sir William.

2. Though Sir William allowed him £1,000 a year, this was a small sum compared to what he might equally easily have paid.

3. Austin could not be making more than two or three hundred a year, so his total income could not much exceed £1,200.

4. He was living up to, or almost up to, this figure.

5. Austin had become engaged to a girl to whom, as a daughter-in-law, there was every reason to believe Sir William objected. This girl had no dot.

6. Unless he got an increased allowance Austin would find himself very pinched after marriage.

7. Sir William had threatened that if the marriage came off, he would not only not increase the allowance, but might alter his will adversely to Austin.

8. Austin would therefore be faced with the alternative of having his prospects ruined if his father lived, or, if he died, of receiving £150,000. Thus not only his own position and comfort were at stake, but that also of the girl he loved⁠—a terrible temptation.

9. Austin had an interview with Sir William on the Sunday night previous to the murder, at which the two quarrelled about a lady⁠—presumably Miss Drew.

10. Austin had the requisite knowledge of Luce Manor and Sir William’s ways to have accomplished the deed.

11. Austin had on that Wednesday night rowed down the river and met Sir William at the Luce Manor boathouse.

12. Austin had denied having been in the neighbourhood at the time.

13. Austin had invented and carried out an elaborate plant with the object of proving an alibi. This alibi was a deliberate falsehood from beginning to end, and was prearranged.

As Tanner read over his document he felt that seldom had he investigated a clearer case, or got together more utterly damning evidence.

“The man’s as good as hanged,” he said grimly to himself.

Next morning he laid his conclusions before his chief, with the result that an hour later he was again on his way to Halford, armed with a warrant for Austin Ponson’s arrest.

He took the sergeant and a constable with him to the house, but left them waiting in the hall while he was shown into Austin’s study. The latter was writing at his table.

“Hallo! Inspector,” he cried cheerily. “And how are you getting on?”

Tanner ignored his outstretched hand, and as the other saw his visitor’s face, his expression changed.

“Mr. Austin Ponson, I am sorry to inform you I hold a warrant for your arrest on a charge of murdering your father, Sir William Ponson. I must also warn you that anything you may say may be used against you.”

Austin shrank back and collapsed into his chair as if he had been struck. His face grew ghastly, and little drops of moisture formed on his forehead. For some moments he sat motionless, then slowly he seemed somewhat to recover himself.

“All I can say, Inspector,” he answered earnestly, “is that, before God, I am innocent. I am ready to go with you.”

The news spread like wildfire, and that evening the people of Halford had a fresh thrill and a new subject of conversation.

IX

Lois Drew Takes a Hand

Just about the time that the arrest of Austin Ponson was taking place, Miss Lois Drew entered her drawing-room, and sitting down at the old Sheraton desk near the window, became immersed in her household accounts.

The low ceilinged, green-tinted room was pleasantly cool on this hot, dusty morning. The bow window faced west, and so was shaded from the glare of the sun. The casements stood invitingly open to the warm, scent-laden air, which streamed gently in over the fragrant masses of colour in the flower beds without. The faint hum of honey-seeking insects fell soothingly and companionably on the ear. Now and then a sudden crescendo marked the swift passage of a bee, busily intent on its own affairs, while butterflies flitted aimlessly by with erratic, dancing movements. Beyond the garden a meadow stretched down to the river, in which cattle, immersed to the knees, stood motionless, enjoying the cool of