The Gentleman from Indiana - Page 110/212

"I think I have met you," returned the other. "My name is Meredith."

Mr. Barrett probably did not locate the meeting, but the name proved an

open sesame to his geniality, for he melted at once, and saying: "Of

course, of course, Mr. Meredith; did you want a talk with me?" clasped the

young man's hand confidentially in his, and, with an appearance of

assuring him that whatever the atrocity which had occurred in the Meredith

household it should be discreetly handled and hushed up, indicated a

disposition to conduct him toward a more appropriate apartment for the

rehearsal of scandal. The young man accepted the hand-clasp with some

resignation, but rejected the suggestion of privacy.

"A telegram from Plattville reached me half an hour ago," he said. "I

should have had it sooner, but I have been in the country all day."

The two men who had been talking with the superintendent turned quickly,

and stared at the speaker. He went on: "Mr. Harkless was an old--and--" He

broke off, with a sudden, sharp choking, and for a moment was unable to

control an emotion that seemed, for some reason, as surprising and

unbefitting, in a person of his rubicund presence, as was his gravity. An

astonished tear glittered in the corner of his eye. The grief of the gayer

sorts of stout people appears, sometimes, to dumfound even themselves. The

young man took off his glasses and wiped them slowly. "--An old and very

dear friend of mine." He replaced the glasses insecurely upon his nose. "I

telephoned to your headquarters, and they said you had come here."

"Yes, sir; yes, sir," the superintendent of police responded, cheerfully.

"These two gentlemen are from Plattville; Mr. Smith just got in. They

mighty near had big trouble down there to-day, but I guess we'll settle

things for 'em up here. Let me make you acquainted with my friend, Mr.

Smith, and my friend, Mr. Homer. Gentlemen, my friend, Mr. Meredith, one

of our well-known citizens."

"You hear it from the police, gentlemen," added Mr. Meredith, perking up a

little. "I know Dr. Gay." He nodded to the surgeon.

"I suppose you have heard some of the circumstances--those that we've

given out," said Barrett.

"I read the account in the evening paper. I had heard of Harkless, of

Carlow, before; but it never occurred to me that it was my friend--I had

heard he was abroad--until I got this telegram from a relative of mine who

happened to be down there."

"Well," said the superintendent, "your friend made a mighty good fight

before he gave up. The Teller, that's the man we've got out here, he's so

hacked up and shot and battered his mother wouldn't know him, if she

wanted to; at least, that's what Gay, here, says. We haven't seen him,

because the doctors have been at him ever since he was found, and they

expect to do some more tonight, when we've had our interview with him, if

he lives long enough. One of my sergeants found him in, the freight-yards

about four-o'clock and sent him here in the ambulance; knew it was Teller,

because he was stowed away in one of the empty cars that came from

Plattville last night, and Slattery--that's his running mate, the one we

caught with the coat and hat--gave in that they beat their way on that

freight. I guess Slattery let this one do most of the fighting; he ain't

scratched; but Mr. Harkless certainly made it hot for the Teller."