The Black Dog Mystery by Ellery Queen Jr

Author:Ellery Queen Jr. [QUEEN, ELLERY]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781504003889
Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
Published: 1941-07-09T16:00:00+00:00

XII. Clarabelle Spoils a Picture

DJUNA WAS staggered by that dreadful thought.

The recollection of the strange nervousness that Mr. Boots had shown ever since the day of the bank robbery—yes, beginning with the night before the bank robbery—rushed over him and overwhelmed him with horror.

It flashed over him that it had begun at that very moment when Mr. Boots had been handed that letter, in Mr. Pindler’s store. Mr. Boots had opened it, read it, had rushed away immediately. That very night he had driven away on some mysterious errand to Riverton. He had not come back at all that night. The next morning, the bank was robbed; and still Mr. Boots had not come home. How queerly he had acted when Tommy and Djuna had told him about the robbery! How nervous and frightened he had been, ever since! No one knew, even yet, where the three robbers were hiding. Was it possible that Mr. Boots, even though he had not actually taken part in the robbery, had helped to plan it? Had he helped the three men to escape, afterwards? Was one of those three men, right at this very minute, hiding in Mr. Boots’s house? Had Mr. Boots kept him hidden there in the attic ever since the robbery? What else could explain the nervousness that Mr. Boots had shown whenever Djuna had come to see him?

Djuna’s heart almost burst with grief. All that day he had been trying to convince himself that nothing was really wrong with Mr. Boots. But what could he say now? If Mr. Boots was giving shelter to a criminal, wasn’t he equally guilty?

All this rushed through his mind as he stood there staring, horrified, at the dark window which had flickered for that one dreadful instant with the light of the match. He could bear it no longer. Gritting his teeth to keep from screaming aloud, he hurried home, his knees trembling beneath him.

In the shelter of his own room, he wondered miserably if he ought to go at once to Miss Annie and tell her what he had seen, and what he suspected. But Miss Annie had already gone to bed, and he shrank from waking her. He put out his light and tried to go to sleep. But it was a long time before he dropped off to sleep, for his troubled thoughts raced around and around in his brain, feverishly. Try as he might, he could not decide what to do, and yet he knew that he must do something quickly. Ought he to go straight to Mr. Boots the next morning and beg him to confess? Ought he to tell Miss Annie and Mr. Pindler and ask them to tell the police at Clinton? What was right? How could he ever bring himself to betray his good old friend, whose heart would break if he were taken to prison? He could never do that! Lying there in the dark, Djuna tossed and tumbled, tortured with his thoughts. At last, worn out, he fell into a sleep tormented by unhappy dreams.

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