A Ladder Out Of Place

At dinner Mr. Jamieson suggested sending a man out in his place for a
couple of days, but Halsey was certain there would be nothing more, and
felt that he and Alex could manage the situation. The detective went
back to town early in the evening, and by nine o'clock Halsey, who had
been playing golf--as a man does anything to take his mind away from
trouble--was sleeping soundly on the big leather davenport in the
living-room.

I sat and knitted, pretending not to notice when Gertrude got up and
wandered out into the starlight. As soon as I was satisfied that she
had gone, however, I went out cautiously. I had no intention of
eavesdropping, but I wanted to be certain that it was Jack Bailey she
was meeting. Too many things had occurred in which Gertrude was, or
appeared to be, involved, to allow anything to be left in question.

I went slowly across the lawn, skirted the hedge to a break not far
from the lodge, and found myself on the open road. Perhaps a hundred
feet to the left the path led across the valley to the Country Club,
and only a little way off was the foot-bridge over Casanova Creek. But
just as I was about to turn down the path I heard steps coming toward
me, and I shrank into the bushes. It was Gertrude, going back quickly
toward the house.

I was surprised. I waited until she had had time to get almost to the
house before I started. And then I stepped back again into the
shadows. The reason why Gertrude had not kept her tryst was evident.
Leaning on the parapet of the bridge in the moonlight, and smoking a
pipe, was Alex, the gardener. I could have throttled Liddy for her
carelessness in reading the torn note where he could hear. And I could
cheerfully have choked Alex to death for his audacity.