HODGSON INTERFERES
IT was at breakfast that Betty Mandell decided to tell Bob Galvin what she had seen the night before.
The girl had spent a troubled night. She had slept fitfully, awakening frequently at slight sounds.
Once she had been really frightened. She had imagined that two shining eyes were staring through the open window from the outside darkness. It had proved to be the reflection of two distant street lights.
But even now, in the light of morning, Betty felt herself shuddering at the thought of that strange, weird man in black whom she had discovered in the study, and who had so mysteriously eluded her.
“Bob,” she said solemnly, “something strange happened last night. I came downstairs very late. I guess — I guess I must have heard a noise. The light was on in the study.”
Bob Galvin laid aside the morning newspaper. A quizzical look came over his face; an ugly look, Betty thought.
“In the study?” Bob’s voice was tense.
“Yes,” said Betty, “and that was not all. There was some one in the study — a man dressed in black. He looked like a great big shadow.”
“A — a shadow!” Bob’s exclamation came suddenly. He caught himself and smiled sourly.
“Was this real?” he asked. “Or was it just your imagination?”
“I’m sure it was real,” Betty declared. “Some one must have been there. For, while I was still trying to believe my senses, the man turned around and the light went off.
“I–I was afraid; but I went in the room just the same. I turned on the light. I was alone!”
“Alone,” said Bob, in a low voice. His eyes were staring with a far-away look. “The shadow was gone!”
“Yes, the shadow was gone,” replied Betty, “but it was more than a shadow, Bob! A shadow can not turn off a light!
“I was frightened, Bob. I went all around downstairs, but I found nothing. Not even a window open.”
“You’d better forget it,” said Bob. “Your imagination is getting the best of you. How about that trip I suggested? Why not go?”
“I don’t want to leave New York,” declared Betty firmly.
“But this house is no place for you,” returned Bob. “Not while you’re in your present state of mind.”
Betty was inclined to agree. She remembered that she had been invited to visit a friend in the city — Alice Wheeler. Perhaps Bob was right when he said that she should go away a while. So she offered a compromise.
“Alice Wheeler wants me to visit her,” she said. “Suppose I go over there for a few nights?
“But I don’t like the idea of you staying here, Bob,” she went on. “Something is wrong in this house!”
“Don’t you worry about me,” declared Bob. “I’ll be all right. It’s you I’m worried about. I’d advise you to go today.
“When something like this begins to worry you, a change is the only cure. I think it was your imagination, Betty — thinking you saw a man in the study.”
As Bob uttered the last words, Hodgson entered the dining room. The old servant stood stock-still. He did not move a muscle.
“I’ll call Alice now,” declared Betty.
AS soon as the girl had left the dining room, Hodgson approached the table. He leaned close to Bob Galvin and whispered.
“Have you told her?” he questioned. “Told her about that man — that man in the study—”
“What man?” snapped Bob. The old servant seemed rebuffed by his new master’s tone.
“About the man I found there,” explained Hodgson, “the man I told you about — the dead man!”
“No,” said Bob, in an unpleasant voice. “Listen, Hodgson. I don’t want you bothering me this way. Understand? When I want to tell you any thing, I’ll tell it without your asking. Remember that!”
He picked up the newspaper. Hodgson stood trembling, hurt by the words which Bob had spoken. He turned and tottered from the room, his head bowed in dejection. He encountered Betty in the hall.
“What is the matter, Miss Betty?” he inquired. “Has something happened?”
“Nothing important, Hodgson,” said Betty, in a restrained tone. “I’ve just decided to visit Miss Wheeler. Call Perkins to be here in half an hour. I’m going to pack.”
“Miss Betty” — Hodgson’s voice was pleading — “you must tell me what is the matter!”
The girl could not resist the old servant’s plea. She realized that Hodgson was the only person in whom she could confide, for she had lived a lonely life for many years, with only her uncle and this servant.
If there should be danger in the house, it was but right to tell Hodgson. She felt sure that Bob Galvin would not do so.
She drew the servant aside and told him what had happened the night before. Hodgson nodded.
“It would be best for you to go, Miss Betty,” he declared. “Things are not right here. I don’t know what you saw. It might have been—”
“A ghost?” questioned Betty, half laughing in spite of herself.
“Perhaps, Miss Betty,” declared Hodgson solemnly. “A man was killed in that very room while you were away. I found his body.”
The statement horrified Betty. She was not superstitious, yet this revealment caught her unaware.
She was about to question Hodgson when Bob appeared from the dining room. Betty turned and went upstairs. She heard Bob tell Hodgson that he was going out.
Betty did very little packing. She felt that a few days would be the limit of her stay.
She came downstairs with a small bag just as the doorbell rang. Hodgson was not in sight, so Betty answered the door. Perkins was there with the car. He took the bag. Betty went to find Hodgson.
Something attracted her to the study. The door was closed. She decided that Hodgson must be in there. That would account for the fact that he had not answered the bell.
She opened the door and entered. Hodgson was standing by the desk. He started and turned away when the girl entered. He tried to hide something. The girl saw that it was a revolver.
“What are you doing, Hodgson?” Betty asked in surprise.
“Nothing, Miss Betty,” began the servant. Then he realized that the girl had seen the revolver. “I’m just preparing, ma’am, that’s all.
“I’m a little bit worried — about Mr. Bob. I thought it would be best if I had a revolver handy. That’s all.”
“Do be careful,” said Betty in a low voice. “I hope nothing happens while I am gone. You’ll look out, won’t you, Hodgson?”
After the girl had left, Hodgson stood staring grimly at the dark oak walls. He nodded as though talking to himself. He put the revolver in his pocket and went out of the study.
IT was late in the afternoon when Bob Galvin returned. He was accompanied by Hiram Mallory. Evidently Galvin had dropped in to see his uncle’s friend.
Mallory spoke a kindly word to Hodgson. Then he and Bob entered the study and closed the door. It was nearly dinner time when Mallory departed.
Bob Galvin dined alone that evening. Hodgson waited on him and the old man’s face was grim. Bob did not appear to notice him during the meal.
In the evening, there was a visitor — the man who wore the black cap. It was after ten o’clock when he went away. Bob returned alone to the study.
It was then that Hodgson entered. He was close by the desk when Bob heard his footsteps. The young man swung about in his chair.
Hodgson, a look of grim determination on his face, was standing near. In his trembling hand the old servant held a revolver.
Bob Galvin gripped the arms of the chair. He was startled, even though Hodgson could not detect the expression that came over his face.
“What’s this, Hodgson?” demanded Bob. “Put down that gun! Understand?”
“You will go away from here!” declared Hodgson, in a quavering voice. “Go away — and do not come back! You do not belong here. You are not the man you claim to be—”
“That’s nonsense, Hodgson,” interrupted Bob Galvin. “Give me that gun and get out of here!”
“You must go away!” repeated Hodgson, voice quavering but determined. “I have suspected you ever since that night you went out with another man. You are not Robert Galvin—”
The young man laughed. After his first surprise, he did not fear Hodgson. He did not think the old man would shoot without provocation.
“Mr. Mallory was here,” he declared. “He knows that I am Bob Galvin. Your eyesight is bad, Hodgson, that’s all. Call up Mallory and ask him who I am.”
For a moment the old servant hesitated. He looked puzzled; but the doubt soon faded from his face and he became more determined than before.
Bob Galvin noticed the change. He realized that a sudden understanding was coming into Hodgson’s mind.
“I shall not call up Mr. Mallory,” declared the servant, in a decided tone. “I shall not call him up, because — ” He interrupted himself quickly.
“I do not want to talk to you,” he said. “You must go now! I shall give you just ten seconds to leave this room!”
Bob Galvin stared but did not move.
“One—” said Hodgson, counting slowly, “—two—”
Bob Galvin was moving now, inch by inch. He was coming closer and closer to Hodgson, but the old servant’s eyes did not detect the motion. Hodgson kept on counting.
“—Eight—”
Bob Galvin’s hand swung suddenly upward. It struck Hodgson’s wrist. The revolver flew across the room.
Galvin leaped upon the old man. They grappled.
The odds seemed greatly in Bob’s favor, but he encountered a surprise. Hodgson’s feebleness lay only in his legs.
The old man’s grip was ferocious. He wrestled bravely with his young adversary. They fell to the floor. Hodgson was on top.
IT seemed that the old servant was due to overpower his opponent. Bob had one hand free, but he could not use it to advantage. He stretched his arm wildly and his fingers encountered the barrel of the revolver.
Bob picked up the weapon. With a quick twist, he freed himself for the instant. In so doing, he laid himself open to a new attack by Hodgson.
As the old man flung himself forward, Bob’s arm swung. The butt of the revolver struck Hodgson’s head. The servant sank with a groan.
With cruel viciousness, Bob swung again. He rose to his knees and battered the helpless man’s head with the revolver.
There was no limit to his fury. Hodgson was dead from the fourth blow, but Galvin kept on and on until Hodgson’s head had become a terrible sight.
Then, an ugly leer spreading over his face, Bob arose and looked down at his handiwork.
“You knew too much,” he said. “You know nothing, now!”
Bob laid the revolver on the desk. He sat looking at Hodgson’s body while he called a number on the telephone. Sure that he was talking to the person he desired, Bob Galvin gave a simple, quiet order:
“Come up to see ‘em as soon as you can,” he said. “I have changed my plans. There is work for us to do.”
He laid aside the telephone and sat grinning at the gruesome form on the floor.