148 WEIRD
lowed the usual country custom of arresting the wrong man on circumstantial evidence. Of course Kirk Hayward didn't kill Weems. I've known Kirk since we were boys together, and I know he wouldn't harm a fly. If Weems has been murdered, his death has been accomplished by the same mysterious agency that killed father. I'm certain now that some one outside the family knows about the hidden jewels and has been here looking for them. If we find that some one, we shall find Weems' murderer."
Caroline drew close to her husband.
"I'm beginning to lose my interest in the treasure hunt," she said. "I think we had better go back to New Orleans."
Elise said nothing. She was occupied with a riot of conflicting impulses. To tell what she knew of the crime would be to throw suspicion on Hayward, and, like her brother, she felt almost positive that Hayward would not have stooped to the crime.
Jarrell patted his wife's shoulder soothingly.
"Don't be frightened," he said reassuringly. "This thing will look a lot less terrible in the morning."
He led the conversation away from the subject of the murder.
In a short time Mrs. Whipple came into the room to announce that supper was ready, and they all went into the dining-room. Although the housekeeper had prepared an excellent meal, no one enjoyed the food much. After making a pretense of eating, they all returned to the living-room.
Jarrell looked at his watch.
"Seven-thirty," he announced. "Get your wraps, girls, and we'll drive over to Crawford. We'll have to hurry. I think there is a storm wing."
They were soon ready and Jarrell helped them into the car. Mrs. Whipple sat in the back-seat with Elise, and Caroline snuggled into the driver's seat with her husband. Jarrell drove fast. The startling news had upset him more than he eared to admit, and he found some relief for his feelings in speeding.
At Pine Tree Inn he stopped for a few minutes to interview Tab Shepard. The innkeeper corroborated Mrs. Whipple's story and added a few details of his own invention. To Elise's relief, he said nothing concerning her part in the happenings of the preceding night.
Jarrell thanked Tab for the information and drove on to Crawford. He stopped the car before the postoffice at eight o'clock. There seemed to be some excitement in the village. A crowd was gathered in the street. Of an old man Jarrell inquired the cause of the commotion.
The old fellow answered in a shaking voice, "Young Hayward's broke jail. He knocked Blaine Murchison senseless, an' got away about an hour ago. They're a-formin' a poss' to hunt him; goin' to send to the city fer bloodhounds, mebbe."
Jarrell left the girls in the machine and went over to the constable's office. There he listened to long-winded stories of the doctor's escape, of the arrest, of the discovery of the body, of Bill Joy's wild run. Out of the whole mass of tales he got nothing of real value concerning the mystery. He became certain, however, of one thing. Hayward was innocent. He had been illegally arrested, and his breaking jail had been justified.
On his return to the car, Jarrell gave the girls the less lurid details of the situation.
"I think we may as well go back to the house," he concluded; "unless you girls are afraid to stay there to-night. It's starting to rain, and I don't care to be caught out in a storm."
Both Elise and Caroline declared their willingness to return to the old
