Crane read his thoughts and volunteered: "Mr. Wheeler, I daresay you want some one to give you the principal facts of the matter in hand, and I will do so. While by no means a detective in the technical sense of the term, I am by nature of a reasoning mind, and I've no doubt I can tell you the salient features more concisely than some of the others present."
Wheeler looked at him. "Thank you, sir," he said, "but I'll not trouble you. I may be peculiar, but I prefer to get at the facts in my own way. Of course, I know that Mr. Arnold has mysteriously been absent since Monday night, or rather Tuesday morning. For he may not have left the house until after daylight. It is now Wednesday morning, and it seems desirable to endeavor to learn where he may be. I will, if you please, address my inquiries to one or another as I may be inclined, but if any one knows of any important fact I trust he will state it when the occasion calls for it."
Though the confidential secretary was perhaps the best informed as to his employer's habits and customs, yet a glance at Chapin's gloomy and forbidding face caused the detective to look in another direction. Mr. Crane, he deemed too officious and too anxious to give information, so he settled on the firm of lawyers, and chose Gale, as being the senior member.
Mr. Wheeler did not say that he had thus made an intentional selection, nor did it take him more than a moment to make up his mind. With a quiet manner, that somehow held the rest listening in silence, he asked some questions of Emory Gale. In a few moments he was in possession of the main facts of the case as known. "Do you think Mr. Arnold could have been drowned?" he asked abruptly.
"No," replied Gale; "I don't think that."
"Do you think he is, for any reason, hiding on purpose?"
"I do not," said Gale decidedly.
"He is not, then, a man who would do such a thing, say, as a practical joke?"
"Decidedly not!" said Gale emphatically.
Wheeler nodded his head. "I understand," he proceeded, "that Mr. Arnold was more or less in the habit of walking in his grounds at night. I mean, when he had no guests, he was given to prowling about among the trees."
"That is true," volunteered Miss Wadsworth, as Gale seemed a little uncertain on this point.
"When he took such walks, did he usually wear hat and overcoat?"
"Yes," replied Miss Abby; "a coat according to the weather, but always a hat. Justin never went out without a hat."
Remembering his fairly well advanced state of baldness, no one was surprised at this.
"Then," went on Mr. Wheeler, "have you investigated his wardrobe, and learned what hat and coat are missing?"
No one had thought to do this, and the valet was summoned to answer questions.
"Peters," said Mr. Wheeler, "do you know all the hats and coats in Mr. Arnold's possession?"
"Certainly, sir," said Peters, with the respectful assurance of the well-trained servant.
"And could you tell if any were missing?"
"Yes, sir."
"And have you made any search?"
"Not to say, sir, exactly a search, but I couldn't help noticing that all Mr. Arnold's hats and top-coats are in their places, and I wondered, sir, what he might have worn on his head when he went away."
"You're positive, Peters, that there is no hat or overcoat missing?"
"I'm positive, sir."
"Has any guest present, or any of the servants, missed a hat or a cap?"
Investigation soon proved that nobody had missed any.
"Mr. Arnold was in evening dress when last seen?"
"Yes," answered Miss Abby; "Justin was always in evening dress after six o'clock. He was most punctilious in that respect, like his father before him."
"And that suit of evening clothes is not in his wardrobe, Peters?"
"No, sir."
"Nor his shoes, nor tie, nor any of the garments that he wore the last time you assisted at his toilet?"
"No, sir; they are all missing from his wardrobe."
"And no other garments are missing?"
"No, sir."
"Then, we are justified in concluding," said Mr. Wheeler, turning to the assembly, "that wherever Mr. Arnold may have gone, he wore the suit of clothes he had on during the evening of his disappearance, and he added no hat or outer garment. This, in addition to the fact that he could not get out of this carefully protected house, leads me to conclude that he is still in the house. Yes, I know you have searched thoroughly, but you must have overlooked his hiding-place. It is extremely improbable that, even if Mr. Arnold could have left the house unseen, any emergency would have caused him to go bareheaded. But before I proceed to work in accordance with my own theory, I will ask if any one has any suggestion to offer, or any information, however slight, to give that could throw light on the matter."
"It is not exactly information," said Fred Crane, "but it is a point to remember, perhaps, that Mr. Arnold would not voluntarily go away from home in evening clothes, without taking proper garments to wear on his return. Had he gone anywhere voluntarily, he would have changed or he would have carried a bag."
"Why do you say 'voluntarily,' Mr. Crane?" asked Wheeler. "Do you mean to imply Mr. Arnold could have been forced to leave his home?"
"It is merely a suggestion," and Crane looked a little important at having gained the detective's attention, "but I must say it seems impossible."
"Of course it's impossible!" said Campbell Crosby. "Arnold couldn't get out of this locked-up house or grounds alone, much less with some one else. Malony would have known, too, if any stranger had arrived by night."
"As there are few possibilities to consider, we have to discuss impossibilities," said Crane, a little chagrined at Crosby's manner.
"Not impossibilities," said Wheeler, "but perhaps great improbabilities. The case is baffling in its very limitations. There have been no clues of any sort found, I suppose?"
"Mr. Wheeler," said Leila Duane, a little diffidently, "it may be of no importance, but I discovered this morning that a sofa-pillow was missing from the couch in this room. It was here, I am sure, day before yesterday, and now it is gone. I have questioned the servants, and no one knows anything about it."
There were half a dozen sofa pillows still on the broad-seated divan, and the detective looked slightly amused, as if one pillow more or less could really have no bearing on the case in hand.
"It may seem trivial," observed Gale, moved by a desire to lend importance to Leila's suggestion, if possible, "but you must admit, Mr. Wheeler, that a sofa-pillow couldn't get away of itself."
"No," agreed the detective gravely; "but I cannot think, Mr. Gale, that its disappearance is in any way a clue to the disappearance of Mr. Arnold. Unless he were demented, which I am informed he is not, he would scarcely go out into the night with a sofa-pillow tied on his head."
Leila
