ornia. No one, I think, was very sorry that Arnold
Armstrong was dead, but the manner of his death aroused some sympathy
and an enormous amount of curiosity. Mrs. Ogden Fitzhugh, a cousin,
took charge of the arrangements, and everything, I believe, was as
quiet as possible. I gave Thomas Johnson and Mrs. Watson permission to
go into town to pay their last respects to the dead man, but for some
reason they did not care to go.

Halsey spent part of the day with Mr. Jamieson, but he said nothing of
what happened. He looked grave and anxious, and he had a long
conversation with Gertrude late in the afternoon.

Tuesday evening found us quiet, with the quiet that precedes an
explosion. Gertrude and Halsey were both gloomy and distraught, and as
Liddy had already discovered that some of the china was broken--it is
impossible to have any secrets from an old servant--I was not in a
pleasant humor myself. Warner brought up the afternoon mail and the
evening papers at seven--I was curious to know what the papers said of
the murder. We had turned away at least a dozen reporters. But I read
over the head-line that ran half-way across the top of the Gazette
twice before I comprehended it. Halsey had opened the Chronicle and
was staring at it fixedly.

"The Traders' Bank closes its doors!" was what I read, and then I put
down the paper and looked across the table.

"Did you know of this?" I asked Halsey.

"I expected it. But not so soon," he replied.

"And you?" to Gertrude.

"Jack--told us--something," Gertrude said faintly. "Oh, Halsey, what
can he do now?"

"Jack!" I said scornfully. "Your Jack's flight is easy enough to
explain now. And you helped him, both of you, to get away! You get
that from your mother; it isn't an Innes trait. Do you know that every
dollar you have, both of you, is in that bank?"

Gertrude tried to speak, but Halsey stopped her.

"That isn't all, Gertrude," he said quietly; "Jack is--under arrest."

"Under arrest!" Gertrude screamed, and tore the paper out of his hand.
She glanced at the heading, then she crumpled the newspaper into a ball
and flung it to the floor. While Halsey, looking stricken and white,
was trying to smooth it out and read it, Gertrude had dropped her head
on the table and was sobbing stormily.

I have the clipping somewhere, but just now I can remember only the
essentials.

On the afternoon before, Monday, while the Traders' Bank was in the
rush of closin