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 Data Communications
& Computer Networks
A Business User’s Approach
Ninth Edition

Jill West
Curt M. White

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 Data Communications & Computer Networks: © 2023, 2016, 2013 Cengage Learning, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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 Brief Contents
Preface xiii

Chapter 1 Introduction to Data Communications and Computer Networks������������������������������� 1

Chapter 2 Conducted and Radiated Media������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 37

Chapter 3 Fundamentals of Data and Signals���������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 74

Chapter 4 Frames and Errors����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 108

Chapter 5 Wired and Wireless Local Area Networks������������������������������������������������������������������� 141

Chapter 6 Network Systems and Software������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 175

Chapter 7 The Internet��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 215

Chapter 8 Risk, Security, and Compliance������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 255

Chapter 9 Wide Area Networks������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 303

Chapter 10 Connecting Networks and Resources������������������������������������������������������������������������ 336

Chapter 11 Network Design and Management���������������������������������������������������������������������������� 372

Chapter 12 Business Principles in IT��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 414

Appendix A CompTIA Cloud Essentials+ CLO-002 Certification Exam Objectives�������������� 449

Glossary457
Index478

iii

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 Contents
Chapter 1
Introduction to Data Communications and Computer Networks 1
1-1: The Language of Computer Application Layer 16
Networking 3 Transport Layer 16
Remember this… 4 Network Layer 16
Self-check 4 Data Link Layer 16
Physical Layer 17
1-2: The Big Picture of Networks 5
The OSI Model 17
Remember this… 6
Logical and Physical Connections 18
Self-check 6
The TCP/IP Protocol Suite in Action 19
1-3: Common Network Examples 6 Remember this… 22
The Desktop Computer and the Internet 6 Self-check 22
A Laptop Computer and a Wireless Connection 8
1-5: Cloud Computing 22
Cellular Network 9
Cloud Computing Characteristics 22
Other Common Network Systems 9
Cloud Service Models 24
Sensor Networks 10
Remember this… 26
Business Mainframe Network 11
Self-check 26
Satellite Networks 11
Summary 27
Cloud Networks 11
Key Terms 28
Remember this… 13
Review Questions 29
Self-check 13
Hands-On Project 1 31
1-4: Network Architectures 14
Reflection Discussion 1 33
The TCP/IP Protocol Suite 14
Solutions to Self-Check Questions 34

Chapter 2
Conducted and Radiated Media 37
2-1: Cabling Standards 38 Unshielded and Shielded Twisted Pair 45
Personal Area Network (PAN) Connection Standards 39 Coaxial Cable 47
Universal Serial Bus (USB) 39 Fiber-Optic Cable 48
Thunderbolt 40 Cable Connectors 51
Lightning 41 Twisted Pair Cable Connectors 51
Remember this… 41 Coaxial Connectors 51
Self-check 42 Fiber Connectors 52
Summary of Wired LAN Technologies 53
2-2: Conducted Media 42
Remember this… 54
Twisted Pair Cable 42
Self-check 54
Types of Twisted Pair Cable 43

iv

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 Contents v

2-3: Radiated Media on LANs 54 Cost 63

Wi-Fi 55 Speed 64
Wireless LAN Standards 57 Expandability and Distance 64
Bluetooth 58 Environment 65
Zigbee 59 Security 65
Other Wireless Technologies in a LAN Environment 60 Remember this… 65
Infrared (IR) 60 Self-check 65
Ultra-Wideband (UWB) 61 Summary 66
Near-Field Communication (NFC) 61 Key Terms 67
Summary of Wireless LAN Technologies 62 Review Questions 68
Remember this… 62 Hands-On Project 2 70
Self-check 63 Reflection Discussion 2 71
2-4: Media Selection Criteria 63 Solutions to Self-Check Questions 72

Chapter 3
Fundamentals of Data and Signals 74
3-1: Data and Signals 75 Phase Shift Keying 89
Analog vs. Digital 75 Transmitting Analog Data with Digital Signals 92
Analog Data and Signals 76 Pulse Code Modulation 92
Digital Data and Signals 77 Delta Modulation 94
Fundamentals of Signals 79 Remember this… 96
Remember this… 83 Self-check 97
Self-check 83 3-3: Characters and Codes 97
3-2: Converting Data into Signals 83 ASCII 97

Transmitting Analog Data with Analog Signals 83 Unicode 97

Transmitting Digital Data with Square-Wave Digital Remember this… 99

Signals: Digital Encoding Schemes 84 Self-check 99
Nonreturn to Zero Digital Encoding Schemes 84 Summary 100
Manchester Code Digital Encoding Schemes 85 Key Terms 101
4B/5B Digital Encoding Scheme 86 Review Questions 101
Transmitting Digital Data with Discrete Hands-On Project 3 103
Analog Signals 88
Reflection Discussion 3 105
Amplitude Shift Keying 88
Solutions to Self-Check Questions 106
Frequency Shift Keying 89

Chapter 4
Frames and Errors 108
4-1: Data Link Frames 108 4-2: Noise and Errors 111
Data Link Responsibilities 109 Gaussian Noise 111
Frame Components 109 Impulse Noise 112
Remember this… 110 Crosstalk 113
Self-check 111 Echo 113

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vi Contents

Jitter 114 4-4: Error Control 122

Attenuation 114 Toss the Frame or Packet 122
Error Prevention 114 Return the Message 122
Remember this… 115 Stop-and-Wait Error Control 122
Self-check 116 Sliding Window Error Control 123
4-3: Error Detection 116 Correct the Error 126

Parity Checks 116 Remember this… 129

Simple Parity 116 Self-check 129

Longitudinal Parity 117 Summary 130
Arithmetic Checksum 118 Key Terms 131
Cyclic Redundancy Check 120 Review Questions 132
Remember this… 121 Hands-On Project 4 134
Self-check 122 Reflection Discussion 4 138
Solutions to Self-Check Questions 139

Chapter 5
Wired and Wireless Local Area Networks 141
5-1: Using LANs 142 Remember this… 158
Putting LANs to Work 143 Self-check 158
Advantages and Disadvantages of LANs 144 5-4: Wired LANs 158
Remember this… 145 Ethernet Standards 158
Self-check 145 Wired Ethernet Frame Format 160
5-2: Evolution of LAN Technologies 145 Remember this… 162
Bus Topology 145 Self-check 163
Star-Wired Bus Topology 147 5-5: Wireless LANs 163
Contention-Based Protocols 148 Wireless CSMA/CA 163
Star Topology 149 CSMA/CA Frame Format 164
Remember this… 150 Remember this… 166
Self-check 150 Self-check 166
5-3: Switches 151 Summary 166
MAC (Medium Access Control) Addresses 151 Key Terms 168
Virtual LANs 154 Review Questions 168
Link Aggregation 155 Hands-On Project 5 170
Spanning Tree Algorithm 156 Reflection Discussion 5 173
Quality of Service 157 Solutions to Self-Check Questions 174

Chapter 6
Network Systems and Software 175
6-1: Network Servers and Software 175 Remember this… 182
RAID Configurations 176 Self-check 182
Storage Types 178 6-2: Server Operating Systems 183
Utilities 179 Unix 183
Software Licensing Models 180 Linux 183

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 Contents vii

Microsoft Windows Server 184 Popular Cloud Platforms 194

Remember this… 187 Service Categories 196
Self-check 187 Pricing Strategies 197
6-3: Network Devices 187 Cloud Storage 198

Command Modes 187 Cloud-Native Storage 198

Storage Optimization 199
Configuring with Commands 188
Cloud-Native Computing 200
Remember this… 189
Containerization 202
Self-check 189
Serverless Computing 203
6-4: Virtualization 190 Remember this… 203
Hypervisors 190 Self-check 204
Advantages and Disadvantages of Virtualization 191 Summary 204
Virtualizing Network Devices 192 Key Terms 206
Software-Defined Networking (SDN) 193 Review Questions 206
Remember this… 194 Hands-On Project 6 208
Self-check 194 Reflection Discussion 6 212
6-5: Cloud Computing 194 Solutions to Self-Check Questions 213

Chapter 7
The Internet 215
7-1: Internet Protocol (IP) 216 Remember this… 233
IP Packets 217 Self-check 233
Internet Protocol Version 4 (IPv4) 218 7-4: Internet Services 233
IPv4 Addresses 219 Email 233
Internet Protocol Version 6 (IPv6) 221 File Transfer Protocol (FTP) 234
IPv6 Addresses 223 Intranets and Extranets 236
Remember this… 223 Remote Login 236
Self-check 223 Telnet 236
7-2: Locating a Resource on the Secure Remote Login Protocols 237
Internet 223 Voice over IP (VoIP) 238
Uniform Resource Locator (URL) 224 Media Streaming 240
Domain Name System (DNS) 225 The Internet of Things (IoT) 240
Dynamic Host Configuration Protocol (DHCP) 225 Data Analytics 242
Network Address Translation (NAT) 226 Remember this… 243
Remember this… 228 Self-check 243
Self-check 228 Summary 244
7-3: Protocols of the Internet 229 Key Terms 245

Transmission Control Protocol (TCP) 229 Review Questions 246

TCP Segment Format 229 Hands-On Project 7 248

User Datagram Protocol (UDP) 230 Reflection Discussion 7 251
Address Resolution Protocol (ARP) 231 Solutions to Self-Check Questions 253
Internet Control Message Protocol (ICMP) 231

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viii Contents

Chapter 8
Risk, Security, and Compliance 255
8-1: Network Security Risks 256 DES (Data Encryption Standard) and AES
(Advanced Encryption Standard) 274
Common Vulnerabilities and Attack Types 256
Public Key Cryptography 275
Compromise Users 256
Public Key Infrastructure (PKI) 275
Compromise Software 256
Compromise Availability 256 Technologies That Use Encryption 278
Compromise Accounts 257 Digital Signatures 278
Other Attack Strategies 257 Tunneling Protocols 278
Risk and Security Assessments 259 Remember this… 279
Risk Response 261 Self-check 279
Security Policies 261 8-4: IAM (Identity and Access
Incident Response 261 Management) 279
Remember this… 262 Access Rights 280
Self-check 262 Authentication 280
8-2: Network Security Technologies 262 Hashing 281
Blockchain 284
Physical Security 263
Single Sign-On (SSO) and Federated Identity
Prevention Methods 263
Management (FIM) 284
Detection Methods 263
Authorization 285
Anti-Malware 264
Accounting 285
Proxy Server 264
Remember this… 286
Access Control Lists (ACLs) 265
Self-check 287
Firewalls 265
Firewall Effectiveness 265
8-5: Wireless Security 288
Firewall Functionality in the Cloud 266 Securing Wireless LANs 288
Firewall Limitations 267 Spread Spectrum Technology 288
Intrusion Detection and Prevention Systems 267 Frequency Hopping Spread Spectrum 288
Remember this… 268 Direct Sequence Spread Spectrum 290
Self-check 269 Remember this… 290
Self-check 290
8-3: Data Security Technologies 269
Summary 291
CIA Triad 269
Key Terms 293
Data Security Regulations and Compliance 270
Review Questions 294
Encryption 271
Hands-On Project 8 295
Monoalphabetic Substitution-Based Ciphers 272
Reflection Discussion 8 300
Polyalphabetic Substitution-Based Ciphers 272
Solutions to Self-Check Questions 301
Transposition-Based Ciphers 273

Chapter 9
Wide Area Networks 303
9-1: Networks That Connect LANs 304 Remember this… 306
Campus Area Networks (CANs) 304 Self-check 306
Metropolitan Area Networks (MANs) 304 9-2: Routing 306
WAN Topology 305 Best Paths 307

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 Contents ix

Dynamic Versus Static Routing 308 Orthogonal Frequency Division Multiplexing

Routing Protocols 309 (OFDM) 319
Routing Information Protocol (RIP) 309 Remember this… 319
Open Shortest Path First (OSPF) 311 Self-check 320
Intermediate System to Intermediate 9-4: Compression 320
System (IS-IS) 311
Lossless Compression 320
Enhanced Interior Gateway Routing
Run-Length Encoding 321
Protocol (EIGRP) 311
Lempel-Ziv Technique 321
Border Gateway Protocol (BGP) 311
Lossy Compression 322
Remember this… 312
MP3 (MPEG [Moving Picture Experts
Self-check 312
Group] Audio Layer-3) 322
9-3: Multiplexing 312 JPEG (Joint Photographic Experts Group) 322
Time Division Multiplexing (TDM) 313 MPEG (Moving Picture Experts Group) 325
Synchronous Time Division Multiplexing 313 Remember this… 325
Statistical Time Division Multiplexing 314 Self-check 326
Frequency Division Multiplexing (FDM) 315 Summary 326
Wavelength Division Multiplexing (WDM) 316 Key Terms 328
Wi-Fi Multiplexing 316 Review Questions 329
Cellular Network Multiplexing 318 Hands-On Project 9 330
Global System for Mobile Reflection Discussion 9 334
Communications (GSM) 318 Solutions to Self-Check Questions 335
Code Division Multiplexing (CDM) 318

Chapter 10
Connecting Networks and Resources 336
10-1: Small Business and 10-3: WAN Virtualization 355
Consumer-Grade WAN Services 337 Software-Defined WAN (SD-WAN) 356
Digital Subscriber Line (DSL) 337 Software-Defined Branch (SD-Branch) 357
DSL Basics 337 Secure Access Service Edge (SASE) 358
DSL Formats 339 Remember this… 358
Cable Modems 339 Self-check 358
Fiber Internet 341
10-4: Cloud-Supported Technologies 359
Satellite 342
Digital Marketing 359
Cellular Networks 344
Remote Workers 360
Remember this… 346
Edge Computing 361
Self-check 347
Remember this… 362
10-2: Enterprise-Grade WAN Services 347 Self-check 362
Legacy WAN Technologies 347 Summary 363
MPLS 348 Key Terms 365
Ethernet 349 Review Questions 365
Virtual Private Network (VPN) 351 Hands-On Project 10 367
Cloud Connectivity 354 Reflection Discussion 10 369
Remember this… 355 Solutions to Self-Check Questions 370
Self-check 355

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Editorial review has deemed that any suppressed content does not materially affect the overall learning experience. Cengage Learning reserves the right to remove additional content at any time if subsequent rights restrictions require it.
x Contents

Chapter 11
Network Design and Management 372
11-1: Planning for Changes 373 Simple Network Management
Protocol (SNMP) 388
Project Management 373
NetFlow 389
Application Lifecycle Management (ALM) 374
Creating a Baseline 390
Change Management 376
Remember this… 392
Remember this… 378
Self-check 393
Self-check 378
11-4: Cloud Deployment and
11-2: Analyzing Design 378
Management 393
Network Modeling 378
Cloud Migration 393
Wide Area Connectivity Map 379
Migration Phases 394
Metropolitan Area Connectivity Map 379
Migration Strategies 395
Local Area Connectivity Map 379
Cloud Provisioning and Configuration
Gap Analysis 381 Management 396
Feasibility Studies 381 Automation 396
Capacity Planning 382 Infrastructure as Code (IaC) 398
Testing Environments 383 Automation and Orchestration Tools 399
Remember this… 384 Cloud Monitoring and Optimization 401
Self-check 385 Remember this… 403
11-3: Network Monitoring and Self-check 403
Management 385 Summary 404
Network Monitoring Tools 385 Key Terms 406
Monitoring Network Hardware 385 Review Questions 406
Monitoring Network Traffic 386 Hands-On Project 11 408
Alerts and Logs 387 Reflection Discussion 11 411
Syslog 387 Solutions to Self-Check Questions 412

Chapter 12
Business Principles in IT 414
12-1: People Resources 415 Vendor Documentation 423
Network Administrator Skills and Certifications 415 Request for Information (RFI) 423
Professional Development 416 Statement of Work (SOW) 423
Training Users 418 Service Level Agreement (SLA) 423
Project Evaluations 424
Policies and Procedures 419
Remember this… 425
Remember this… 420
Self-check 425
Self-check 420
12-2: Vendor Relations 420 12-3: Financial Aspects of Cloud 426
CapEx vs. OpEx 426
Vendor Services 421
Tracking Cloud Expenses 427
Support Plans 421
Time to Market 422 Cloud Cost Optimization 428

Managed Services 422 Instance Pricing Options 429

Vendor Lock-In 422 Data Replication Cost vs. Benefit 430

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 Contents xi

Licensing in the Cloud 430 RTO and RPO 437

Remember this… 431 Remember this… 438
Self-check 432 Self-check 439

12-4: Continuity and Recovery 432 Summary 439

Key Terms 441
Business Continuity 432
Review Questions 442
Disaster Recovery 433
Hands-On Project 12 443
MTBF and MTTR 433
Backups 435 Reflection Discussion 12 446
Solutions to Self-Check Questions 447

Appendix A
CompTIA Cloud Essentials+ CLO-002 Certification Exam Objectives 449
Domain 1.0 Cloud Concepts—24% Domain 3.0 Management and
of Exam 450 Technical Operations—26% of Exam 453
Domain 2.0 Business Principles of Domain 4.0 Governance, Risk,
Cloud Environments—28% of Exam 451 Compliance, and Security for the
Cloud—22% of Exam 454

Glossary 457
Index 478

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 Dedication
In memory of Curt M. White

xii

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 Preface
Today’s business world could not function without ❯❯You work in a small company, in which each
data communications and computer networks. Most employee wears many hats. Thus, you may
people cannot make it through an average day with- need to perform some level of network assess-
out encountering or using some form of computer ment, administration, or support.
network. In the past, this field of study occupied the ❯❯You have your own business and need to fully
time of only engineers and technicians, but it now
understand the advantages of using computer
involves business managers, end users, programmers,
networks to support your operations. To
and just about anyone who might use a phone or
optimize those advantages, you should have
computer! Thus, Data Communications & Computer
a good grasp of the basic characteristics of a
Networks: A Business User’s Approach, Ninth Edition
computer network.
maintains a business user’s perspective on this vast
and increasingly significant subject. ❯❯You have a computer at home or at work, and
you simply wish to learn more about computer
In a generic sense, this book serves as an owner’s networks.
manual for the individual computer user. In a world in
❯❯You have realized that, to keep your job skills
which computer networks are involved in nearly every
current and remain a key player in the informa-
facet of business and personal life, it is paramount that
tion technology arena, you must understand
each person understands the basic features, opera-
tions, and limitations of different types of computer how different computer networks work and
networks. This understanding helps people become become familiar with their advantages and
better managers, better employees, and simply better shortcomings.
computer users. As a computer network user, you will
probably not be the one who designs, installs, and
maintains the network. Instead, you will have interac- Audience
tions—either direct or indirect—with the individuals
Data Communications & Computer Networks: A Business
who do. Taking this course should give you a strong
User’s Approach, Ninth Edition is intended for a one-
foundation in computer network concepts, which will
semester course in business data communications for
enable you to work effectively with network admin-
students majoring in business, information systems,
istrators, network installers, and network designers.
management information systems, and other applied
Here are some of the many scenarios in which the
fields of computer science. Computer science depart-
knowledge contained in this book would be particu-
ments will also find the book valuable, particularly if
larly useful:
the students read the Details sections accompanying
❯❯You work for a company and must deal directly most chapters. It is a readable resource for computer
with a network specialist. To better understand network users that draws on examples from business
the specialist and be able to conduct a meaningful environments. In a university setting, this book can
dialog with them, you need a basic understanding be used at practically any level above the first year.
of the many aspects of computer networks.
❯❯You are a manager within a company and
depend on network specialists to provide you
Defining Characteristics of
with recommendations for the company’s net- This Book
work. To ensure that you can make intelligent The major goal of this ninth edition is the same as
decisions regarding network resources, you that of the first edition: to go beyond simply provid-
need to know the basic concepts of data com- ing readers with a handful of new definitions, and
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xiii

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“That brings me to another point.” Mitchell bent forward in his chair
in his eagerness. “You left here early Tuesday morning, ostensibly to
catch the steamer St. Louis, which you say you missed—then where
have you been staying since then, and how did you leave this
country place early Tuesday morning without anyone seeing you,
and get into Washington?”
“That is my affair, Mr. Mitchell, and I question your right to quiz me
on the subject.” Noyes’ face hardened, and there was a glint of
anger in his eyes.
“Here’s my authority.” Mitchell displayed his badge. “I’m in charge of
this case, and I consider you a material witness, and as such you are
amenable to the law.”
“You forget I am a British subject.”
“That won’t prevent my getting legal authority through the State
Department, if necessary, to summon you to court when this case
goes to trial,” retorted Mitchell. “Take it from me, you can’t dodge
the issue.”
“I am not striving to dodge it.” Noyes spoke with angry emphasis.
“Surely, gentlemen, you are not striving to fasten the crime on me?”
Thorne, watching him intently, wondered at the almost fanatical light
that leaped for an instant into Noyes’ deep sunken eyes, then died
out as Mitchell responded.
“I am seeking information to clear up the mystery surrounding
Brainard’s death,” he said roughly. “If it involves you, so much the
worse—for you.”
“Tut! No threats are necessary,” broke in Thorne. “You go too far,
Mitchell,” meeting the detective’s stony glare with composure. Then
he turned courteously to Noyes. “You and Miss Deane are the only
ones known to have been up and about this house on Monday night,
between midnight and early morning; and we are seeking to learn
from every source the identity of the third person who was also up
and about—”
“A third person?” Noyes looked at him, startled. “What third person
do you refer to?”
“The murderer,” dryly. “The quest sifts down to you and Miss Deane,
doctor; Miss Deane has cleared herself of suspicion”—with emphasis
—“while you—”
“Have not.” Noyes eyed his inquisitors with sharp intentness. “Kindly
state your reasons for intimating that I killed a man whom I only
met for the first time on Monday evening—barely ten hours before
he was found murdered in his bed.”
“It’s a bit unusual to give reasons,” said Mitchell dubiously, but a nod
from Thorne reassured him, and he continued, more quickly: “You
admit you were up all night Monday, doctor; you disappeared early
Tuesday morning without leaving word how or where you were
going; you won’t tell us where you spent the past few days; and you
haven’t told us what brings you back to this house today.”
“Surely, the fact of my voluntary return clears me of all suspicion,”
argued Noyes heatedly.
“Not necessarily,” retorted Thorne. “Your actions lead us to suppose
one of two motives inspired you to disappear so promptly Tuesday
morning before the discovery of Brainard’s murder. Don’t interrupt,”
as Noyes moved restlessly. “Either you were guilty or you were
seeking to protect the guilty party.” Noyes sat rigidly in his chair, his
expression blank as Thorne paused and scanned him narrowly.
“Now, doctor, which is it?”
Thorne’s question did not receive an immediate response, and the
detective assumed a self-congratulatory air as he waited for Noyes
to speak, but Thorne, never taking his eyes from the Englishman,
waited with concealed anxiety for his next words. They were slow in
coming; apparently Noyes was feeling his way.
“Sifted down to bed-rock, you have nothing against me except an
unavoidable absence of body at the time Brainard’s murder was
discovered. My so-called ‘disappearance’ was but a coincidence,” said
Noyes finally, and he looked at Thorne. “I understand you are a
surgeon.”
“I am.”
“Then you must be aware that cutting a man’s throat is a difficult
operation.” Noyes spoke slowly, impressively. “According to the
newspaper accounts which I read, Brainard’s throat was cut from
right to left, and that he was found lying on the right side of the
bed; therefore, if such was the case, the wound must have been
inflicted by a right-handed man.”
“Do you mean to claim as your defense that you are left-handed?”
demanded Mitchell.
“No, not originally left-handed.” Noyes threw back the officer’s cape
which he still wore, and disclosed an empty coat sleeve pinned
across his chest. “I left my right arm on a battlefield of France,” he
added.
There was a long silence broken by a scream from the hall.
Springing to his feet Mitchell darted through the open door and
down the hall, Noyes and Thorne at his heels. All three paused at
sight of Millicent Porter on the lower step of the staircase.
“My papers!” she gasped. “Someone has stolen my papers!”
Noyes’ left arm supported her as she staggered and almost fell.
Thorne, standing somewhat in the background, whistled low at sight
of the Englishman’s expression as he bent above Millicent.
“So—the red herring across the trail,” he muttered below his breath,
and started violently at finding Vera Deane at his elbow.
 CHAPTER XIV
PRO AND CON

THE dining-room at Thornedale Lodge looked particularly cozy in the

soft lamplight, and old black Cato, surveying the room, could not
repress a smile of subdued gratification. He considered himself “one
ob de fam’ly,” and it was doubtful if even Beverly Thorne had as
great an affection for his ancestral home as did the old man who in
his youth had been a slave on the Thorne plantation. Year in and
year out he had worked on the place, being advanced from field
hand to house servant in the early days following the Civil War, and
when the fortunes of the Thornes were at the lowest ebb he had
worked without wages so as to help “Old Miss” educate her boy,
Beverly, and keep the homestead from going under the hammer.
Illiterate, kindly, faithful, Cato epitomized the spirit of the old-style
darky, to whose watchful care Southern men had not feared to leave
their wives and children when they went to fight with Robert Lee.
Cato had been true to every trust reposed in him. In his humble
hands Mrs. Thorne had left the farming of the few acres still
remaining to the once large estate, and but for his “truck garden”
she would have gone without many necessities. And when Mrs.
Thorne grew older and more feeble, Cato, when crops were bad, did
not hesitate to do odd “chores” for neighboring farmers, receiving in
return poultry or fresh vegetables which would be served to Mrs.
Thorne as only Cato knew how to cook them. But even these
delicacies could not prolong Mrs. Thorne’s feeble hold on life, and
Cato, bottling up his own sorrow, turned to his “young marster” with
the same blind devotion which had characterized his affection for
Colonel and Mrs. Thorne.
It was found on reading Mrs. Thorne’s will that a small legacy left by
her husband, who had pre-deceased her by twenty years, had been
carefully hoarded against the day when Beverly Thorne would be old
enough to go to a medical college, and true to his promise to his
mother he eventually entered Johns Hopkins University, and was
graduated with honors; but the spirit of adventure, inherited from
some doughty ancestor, had sent him far afield. In his absence Cato
had acted as caretaker of the “lodge,” and when Beverly once again
entered the house he had exclaimed with delight at finding every
piece of furniture, every heirloom, valued by his mother, in its
accustomed place, and showing by its excellent condition the care
lavished upon it by Cato.
Cato’s pleasure in the cozy appearance of the dining-room was
shared by Detective Mitchell, who even forgot his impatience to see
Beverly Thorne as he examined the handsome animal heads and
skins hung on the walls.
“Fine trophies,” he commented. “I had no idea Dr. Thorne was such
a sportsman.”
“He didn’t kill all de critters,” acknowledged Cato. “Some has been in
de fam’ly a long time, far’s I can remember, an’ dat’s consid’able far.”
“So you’ve been in the family a long time?” Mitchell looked at him
shrewdly. “Remember the Civil War?”
“Jes’ like it ware yesserday,” promptly. “An’ seein’ yo’ all a-peepin’ an’
a-peerin’ at de Porter house makes me think ob when de ‘rebs’ an’
de ‘Yanks’ uster camp out hyarabouts, an’ I’d wake in de mawnin’ an’
find de Yanks hyar an’ de nex’ day dey’d vamoose, an’ de rebs would
come an’ take what was lef’ ob de fence rails ter make camp-fires.”
“But they couldn’t run off with that stone wall toward the river,”
remarked Mitchell. “Pity the wall didn’t extend around the whole
place and you wouldn’t have had so much trouble. But perhaps the
wall wasn’t built in those days?”
“Oh, but ’twas. Ole Judge Porter, him dat was de gran’son ob de fust
owner ob Dewdrop Inn, he had dat wall set dar ter cut off de ribber
view, ’caise he hated de Thornes.”
“But why?”
“’Caise his gran’mother jilted Colonel Thorne jes’ de day befo’ de
weddin’, to marry his gran’daddy.”
“Do you mean to say seriously that that dead and gone romance is
at the bottom of the present-day feud between the Thornes and the
Porters?”
“I ’spect it are.” Cato crossed the room and adjusted a rug to his
taste. “Ain’t nebber heard nuffin’ else.”
“And on the strength of that Mrs. Porter refuses to receive Dr.
Thorne as a guest in her house,” Mitchell laughed. “It doesn’t seem
possible in these enlightened days that people will nurse a grievance
nearly a hundred years old. And apparently Mrs. Porter intends
passing the feud to the next generation, and keeping her daughter
and Dr. Thorne at loggerheads.” Mitchell jingled the keys in his
pocket. “It has all the atmosphere of a Montague and Capulet affair
—except for the lack of romance.”
Old Cato scratched his bald head and the little tufts of wool still
remaining, in perplexity.
“Dar’s a Montagu livin’ ’bout five miles from hyar, but I ain’t never
heard tell ob no Capulets in de neighborhood. Was yo’ a-referrin’ to
de Richard Montagu fam’ly?”
“No, no—only to an old play,” explained Mitchell, and seeing Cato’s
mystified air, added, “It would have been like the play had Dr.
Thorne and Miss Millicent Porter fallen in love and the families
opposed the match; that is what I meant.”
“Yessir.” Cato brightened. “Dat was what Ole Miss uster wonder
’bout, when little Miss Milly uster slip ober hyar and eat hot
gingerbread.”
Mitchell’s scrutiny was not noticed by Cato as he replaced articles on
the mantelpiece. “Am I mistaken—is there a romance between Dr.
Thorne and Miss Porter?” he asked.
“I doan know what yo’ mean by romance,” grumbled Cato. “Marse
Beverly am mos’ twelve years older than Miss Milly; dey knowed
each odder when chillen, an’ Marse Beverly made her whistles an’
things, an’ fo’ fear de old Judge Porter would fo’bid Miss Milly comin’
hyar to see Ole Miss we nebber tole no one.”
Cato had an attentive listener as he ambled on who forbore to hurry
him. “Has the friendship between Miss Porter and Dr. Thorne kept
up?” he inquired finally.
Cato’s face altered. “No, an’ I didn’t ’spect such treatment of Marse
Beverly from Miss Milly,” he grumbled. “Now Marse Beverly’s back
she ain’t never troubled ter recognize him on de road—an’ she set a
store by his mother—I cain’t un’erstand these hyar women folk!”
“You are not alone in that,” answered Mitchell. “The police are
puzzled by the behavior of Mrs. Porter and her daughter.”
“So I heard tell.” Cato’s tone was short; too late he repented of his
garrulous confidences. In the pleasure of hearing his own voice he
had forgotten that Mitchell was a detective. “I ’spects Marse Beverly
won’t be back ’til nearly midnight; had yo’ better wait?”
“Surely, there’s no hurry.” And in proof of his words Mitchell selected
a comfortable chair. “Where did you say your master had gone?”
“Didn’t I tell yo’ he’d gone to Washington?” Cato’s manner waxed
impatient, and Mitchell hastened to quiet him.
“So you did,” he agreed. “But it seems to me that he ought to be
back by now.”
“Yo’ cain’t tell how dese hyar cyars is gwine ter run; sometimes
Marse Beverly gets hyar right smart on time, an’ ag’in he don’t.”
Cato lugged out of his pocket an old-fashioned silver timepiece,
rivaling a turnip in size, and his most prized possession. It had been
the gift of Mrs. Thorne from among her heirlooms, and bore the
inscription, “To our most trusted friend, Cato.” The negro regarded
the face of the watch solemnly as he counted off the time. “’Most
ten o’clock,” he pronounced. “An’ dar’s Marse Beverly now,” as the
resounding bang of the front door echoed through the house. “I’ll
jes’ tell him yo’ am hyar.”
But Cato’s rheumatic limbs did not permit of rapid motion, and
Thorne was halfway up the stairs before the negro’s hail reached
him.
“Mister Mitchell am hyar,” announced Cato.
“Here?” Thorne paused. “Where?”
“In de dinin’-room, sah,” stepping aside as Thorne descended the
staircase and crossed the living-room. “He’s been a-waitin’ some
time.”
Thorne quickened his footsteps. “Hello, Mitchell, I’m very glad you
had the patience to wait for me,” he exclaimed on reaching the
dining-room. “Cato, bring some Scotch and vichy. Make yourself
comfortable, Mitchell.”
“I’ve been doing that,” laughed Mitchell. “Cato made me feel quite at
home.”
“Good.” Thorne moved over to the dining-table as Cato, returning,
placed a tray with siphon and bottle of Scotch whisky before him.
“Say when—”
“Enough.” Mitchell took the tall glass extended to him and filled it
with vichy. “What are you Virginians going to do when your state
goes ‘bone dry’?”
“Endure it with other evils,” dryly. “I wish the legislators would
remember, before passing such stringent laws, that we are not all
‘self-starters,’ and dry dinners can be very dull.”
“You speak feelingly. Was that your experience at dinner tonight?”
asked Mitchell, observing that Thorne wore a dress suit.
“Yes.” Thorne pushed two chairs near the fireplace and produced a
cigar box and ash trays. “What are the latest developments across
the way?”
“Nothing later than the scene with Noyes this afternoon,” replied
Mitchell. “Where’s that Englishman been hiding since the discovery
of Brainard’s murder?”
Thorne did not speak until after lighting his cigar. “Are you quite sure
that Noyes was hiding?”
“He must have been, for we sent out a general call to police
headquarters throughout the country to look for him, and no trace of
him has been reported. Also, doctor, no one has reported seeing him
leave the Porter house Tuesday morning. How did he get to
Washington? Where did he take the train for New York?”
Thorne stared thoughtfully at his highball and twirled the glass about
several times before speaking.
“I don’t know that this has any bearing on the case,” he said. “But
one of my patients told me today that an old country place in
Maryland just across the river has been bought by an Englishman
named Galbraith—my patient has seen Dr. Noyes and Galbraith
motoring together and—Galbraith owns a motor power boat.”
“Oh!” Mitchell produced his memorandum book and made an entry
in it. “I believe you’ve hit the trail, doctor,” he exclaimed a moment
later. “I didn’t see Dr. Noyes again as, after reviving Miss Porter from
her feinting spell, he went up to Craig Porter’s room, and Murray told
me an hour ago that the doctor was still in the sick room and could
not be called away.”
“I wish”—Thorne paused to knock the ash from his cigar—“I wish Dr.
Noyes had delayed his return just one hour.”
“Why?”
“Because”—Thorne picked his words with care—“because I was
called in by Mrs. Porter to attend her son, and I would have liked to
have the case.”
Mitchell looked at him amusedly. “What, do you desire to pour coals
of fire on Mrs. Porter’s head by curing her son, or”—his eyes
twinkling as he scanned Thorne, whose air of distinction was
enhanced by his well-cut evening clothes—“do you wish to have
your hereditary enemy at your mercy?”
“Perhaps.” Thorne’s firm mouth relaxed into a warm, bright smile,
which cloaked his abrupt change of subject. “Do you think that
Noyes is implicated in Brainard’s murder?”
“I do and I don’t.” Mitchell settled back in his chair and crossed his
legs. “First and foremost is his disappearance on Tuesday morning
before the murder was discovered—”
“Before the murder was generally known,” put in Thorne, and
Mitchell considered the suggestion gravely.
“Perhaps so,” he admitted, “but I don’t quite catch your drift,”
looking inquisitively at Thorne who, however, remained silent, and
Mitchell continued: “Noyes’ disappearance after the murder, his
refusal to tell me where he spent the past few days, and why he has
now returned to the Porter house all point to a desire for secrecy;
and secrecy would indicate that he has some knowledge of the crime
—if he is not the criminal himself.”
“The latter supposition I think you can dismiss,” remarked Thorne.
“It was physically impossible for a one-armed man to cut Brainard’s
throat.”
Mitchell did not answer at once, then pulled his chair closer to
Thorne. “Were you aware until this afternoon in the Porter library
that Noyes had lost his right arm?”
“No. I had never seen Noyes before.”
“But others who testified at the inquest had seen Noyes—why did
they not mention that he had only one arm? Surely a rare enough
condition to have made sufficient impression on his friends and the
servants for them to have commented upon it at the inquest,”
argued Mitchell. “In subsequent conversations, Mrs. Porter, the
nurses, Miss Porter, never alluded to his having lost an arm. Why
was that?”
“I’m sure I don’t know.” Thorne knitted his brows in thought. “It’s
highly probable that they never imagined Noyes could be suspected
of murdering Brainard, or they would have mentioned it to prove
that he could not have killed him.”
“I don’t agree with your reasoning,” snapped Mitchell. “The loss of
his arm was bound to have come up when the coroner was
questioning the witnesses about the razor; any one of the servants
even might casually have mentioned his infirmity. No, doctor, they
didn’t allude to it because they were accustomed to his using a false
arm and hand.”
“Upon my word!” Thorne sat back and contemplated the detective in
surprise. “That’s an ingenious theory.”
“I’m sure I’m right,” went on Mitchell, showing more than his usual
animation as he warmed to the subject. “I was about to question
Murray when Miss Dorothy Deane appeared and ordered me off the
place—a message from Mrs. Porter, she said, and as Murray looked
as if he was ready to back up his employer’s orders, I retreated—
until tomorrow. Now, doctor, you are aware of the ingenious steel
and wooden limbs invented to take the place of arms and legs; they
are marvels of mechanical skill, and one-armed surgeons using a
false arm and hand have been known to perform the most delicate
operations.” Thorne nodded agreement. “Well, why couldn’t Noyes
have, with the aid of a false hand, cut Brainard’s throat?”
“It is within possibility,” admitted Thorne. “But the motive for the
crime?”
The detective chuckled grimly. “In moments of stress or excitement
men give themselves away. Did you observe Noyes’ expression when
Miss Porter fainted? You did; then there’s the answer to your
question.”
“You mean—” Thorne tossed away his cigar stub. “You mean Noyes
is in love with Millicent Porter?”
“I do,” emphatically. “There’s your motive, doctor—jealousy. Now,
consider all the facts,” catching sight of Thorne’s dubious expression.
“Miss Porter’s engagement to Brainard was to be announced on
Tuesday, but it leaked out at the dinner Monday night. Noyes may
have had no idea that she was engaged to another man, and the
news awakened a desire to be revenged on Brainard. It is possible
that Miss Porter encouraged Noyes’ attentions, and he lived in a
fool’s paradise. It’s said, ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.’
Well, my profession has taught me that men evince the same strong
dislike to such treatment—and such motives frequently lead to
murder.”
“You are building up a specious case against Noyes,” remarked
Thorne. “But whether your conclusions rest on a firm foundation
remains to be seen. Frankly, I was prepossessed in Noyes’ favor this
afternoon; he is a man evidently of deep feeling, and, judging by
appearances, living under great strain.” Thorne spoke more slowly.
“Noyes is not the type of man to commit cold-blooded murder.”
“Tut, doctor, murder is not confined to a type!” retorted Mitchell. “If
it were we would have an easy time detecting criminals. And they
don’t go around labeled ‘criminals’ in real life any more than they do
in fiction. It’s generally the least suspected person who is guilty in
everyday life, and the clues are to be found in the victim’s past.”
“Exactly!” exclaimed Thorne. “Why not inquire into Brainard’s past?”
“Jones has that in charge and I’m expecting a report daily,”
answered Mitchell. “I’ve learned everything there is to know
concerning Brainard in Washington. He stood well in his profession,
had some private means, and was counted a good fellow at the club,
and was a great ‘dinner man.’”
“The latter means nothing,” commented Thorne cynically. “A suit of
respectable evening clothes often covers a family skeleton in
Washington society.”
“In this instance I haven’t heard the bones rattle,” laughed Mitchell.
“But it may be—” he paused abruptly. “That Deane girl bothers me.”
Thorne’s hand, outstretched to grasp his glass tumbler, remained
poised in air. “She need not trouble you,” he said, taking up the
glass. “I’ve thought over our former conversation about her, Mitchell,
very carefully, and have come to the conclusion that I was wrong.”
His gray eyes held his companion’s gaze as his clear, resonant voice
continued: “I believe that Miss Deane was not in Craig Porter’s
bedroom when Brainard was murdered in the room next to his.”
“Where was she then?”
“Perhaps in her own bedroom or downstairs.”
“Then why doesn’t she say so?”
“Because by admitting that she left her patient she would lay herself
open to dismissal for neglecting her professional duty.”
Mitchell smiled skeptically. “Better be dismissed as an incompetent
nurse than be charged with murder. But you jump to conclusions,
doctor. I did not allude to Miss Vera Deane a moment ago, but to her
sister, Dorothy.”
“Dorothy!”
“Yes,” continued Mitchell. “I went to the Tribune office this
afternoon, and she had the effrontery to tell me that the article Miss
Porter threw into the unused well on the side hill was nothing but a
‘cut’ of her photograph.”
“Have you investigated the matter?”
“Sure. That old farmer, Montagu, told me of seeing Miss Porter drop
something in the well yesterday; but I haven’t had time to examine
the well today.”
Thorne rose and, walking over to the table in the window, pulled
open its drawer. “Here’s the cut,” he announced, taking out a square
piece of metal caked with mud. “Montagu also told me, and I
searched the well this afternoon with his aid.”
Mitchell took the cut and gingerly turned it over. “So Dorothy Deane
told the truth,” he muttered, “and got ‘fired’ for it.” And as Thorne
glanced up in surprise he briefly recounted the scene in the
newspaper office. At its conclusion he rose. “I’m glad to have had
this talk with you, doctor.”
“Don’t go,” protested Thorne. “I can easily put you up for the night.”
“Thanks, but I must relieve Pope who is keeping his eye on the
Porter house. Let me know if you see anyone up in the attic at the
Porters’ tonight sending wireless messages.”
“All right, I will.” Thorne accompanied the detective into the living-
room and assisted him into his overcoat. “Drop in tomorrow,
Mitchell; I’m always glad to see you,” he said cordially.
“I’ll come, doctor; good night,” and Mitchell strode through the
doorway and up the brick walk.
Thorne watched him out of sight, then closed the hall door and
returned to the dining-room. He stopped to pull down the window
shades, first taking an exhaustive look at the Porter mansion, whose
dark windows showed indistinctly in the pale moonlight. Thorne next
turned his attention to the neglected cut of Millicent Porter. Barely
glancing at it, he flung it back in the drawer and walked over to the
table and poured out another highball.
“To Vera!” he said aloud, holding up the glass, then lowered it
without tasting its contents, while his eyes contracted with sudden
pain. “Bah!” he ejaculated, and, replacing the glass on the tray, he
stepped to the door and looked into the dark pantry.
“Cato,” he called, removing his coat, “Cato!”
 CHAPTER XV
EDGED TOOLS

THE moonlight penetrated but feebly through the one small opening
which did duty for a window of the lean-to, and its interior was a
mass of shadows. Suddenly that point of light was obliterated as a
dark cloth was pulled across the opening. There was a prolonged
wait before the same fingers switched on an electric lamp supplied
with current from a powerful dry battery, but the light was so
arranged that it fell directly upon a table on which stood a
photographer’s outfit. A man, his face in shadow from a huge green
eye-shade which he wore low on his brow, removed his hand from
the electric switch. Taking up a piece of bond paper he felt its
texture, and holding it up to the light he examined with minute
attention the red and blue silk fiber running through the paper.
Laying down the paper he took out his wallet and drew out some
money, and holding the spurious bill and the genuine bank note
against the light he compared them closely, then a smile of triumph
crossed his tightly compressed lips. It was next to impossible to
distinguish between the two notes. Greatly elated, he straightened
his weary back and looked about his workshop.
The cabin, for such it was, though to the casual observer it looked
like only a lean-to of logs against the hillside, had but the one room
which was fairly large, but owing to the numerous benches and
tables and other articles it appeared smaller than it really was. At
one side stood a printing-press, a metal rolling-machine, planchette
cutting-machine, pump, two oil stoves, a plating outfit, and a double
Turner torch, while a series of shelves held paints, oils, acids,
brushes, and chemicals. Dumped in one corner were a lathe, a
melting-pot, brazier, crucible and ladles, and on a nearby bench
were scales, copper and zinc plates, dies, and molds.
The counterfeiter replaced the genuine money in his wallet and
returned the latter to his pocket, then he moved over to a small safe
and placed a handful of spurious bank notes inside it. He stood for a
moment staring at the closed door of the safe, but he was in too
excited a frame of mind to remain long idle, and walking over to a
small cabinet he pulled out first one drawer and then another,
arranging engraver’s tools and other delicate instruments with deft
fingers. After that task was completed he turned his attention to the
stone chimney and fireplace at the back of the cabin and banked the
smoldering embers with ashes. Finally convinced that there was no
danger of fire he drew out from the background large screens and
arranged them in front of the homogeneous contents of the room.
The screens were cleverly painted to resemble the bare walls of a
log cabin, and once in position they caused the optical illusion,
should any passer-by look through the window, of a deserted and
empty cabin.
The counterfeiter, first concealing his green eye-shade behind one of
the screens, switched off the electric light, and moving over to the
window drew back the black cloth and concealed its presence by
tucking it in a crevice in the log wall. A second later he was outside
the cabin, and the faint click of the spring lock as he closed the door
assured him that the latch had caught. He was inspecting the lock
which chemicals had made old and dilapidated in appearance when
a shadow obscured the moonlight shining on the door. The
counterfeiter’s hand closed over the butt of a revolver inside his
overcoat pocket, but before he caught sight of the newcomer a
subdued but familiar voice reassured him, and his chilled blood
coursed through his veins.
“I’se late, but I’se hyar, sah.”
“So I see, Cato, but come out of the moonlight.” And he pulled the
old servant into the shelter of the woods. “What news?”
“Ain’t none,” tersely; the climb up the hillside had been both steep
and hard, and the old negro was short of breath. The stillness
remained unbroken for several minutes except for the hoot of a
screech owl, at which the negro jumped nervously, then seeing that
his companion had started down the hillside he made what speed he
could after him. They were skirting the hedge which marked the
southern boundary of Thornedale when a hand was laid on Cato’s
shoulder.
“Go home, Cato,” directed the counterfeiter. “Don’t wait for me
tonight, I’ll be along presently.”
“Yessir,” promised Cato, peering cautiously at him. “Yo’ am sure—”
An impatient nod checked Cato, and he thankfully withdrew, making
his way to Thornedale with infinite caution. The counterfeiter
watched him until he was lost from sight in the grove of trees about
the house, then turned his attention to the Porter mansion. But his
wary progress in that direction was checked by the sound of rapidly
approaching footsteps, and he had but time to sink down behind the
friendly hedge when a figure loomed ahead silhouetted against the
skyline in the moonlight.

“Eleven, twelve,” chimed the hall clock, and the sound carried
through the open door of Craig Porter’s bedroom to Dr. Alan Noyes
sitting by the paralytic’s bedside. Noyes looked up and rose as Vera
Deane came over to the bed.
“Mr. Porter responds quickly to medicine,” he said, keeping his voice
low-pitched. “And he has at last fallen asleep. I think we may safely
believe that his relapse of this afternoon was but temporary.”
“Thank God for that—his poor mother!” Vera spoke with deep
feeling. “I am afraid she will be our next patient, doctor.”
Noyes looked grave. “Mrs. Porter has had a trying year; anxiety for
her son, Monday’s tragedy—” His gesture was eloquent. “Try and
humor her as much as you can, Miss Deane; her frayed nerves won’t
stand opposition.” He took an undecided step across the room. “Mr.
Porter is so much improved that I will go and lie down. Call me at
once should Mr. Porter awaken and any alarming symptoms appear.”
“Very well, doctor.” Vera’s eyes strayed from his haggard face to his
empty coat sleeve, and with difficulty she controlled all evidence of
curiosity. Before he reached the door she again spoke to him: “Are
you occupying your same room?” she asked.
Noyes looked his impatience. “Yes, I am,” he said, and his manner
was far from gracious. “Good night, Miss Deane.”
“Good night, sir,” and Vera closed the hall door.
Everything had been arranged in the sick room for the night, and
Vera selected a chair farthest from the night light and near her
patient, and prepared for a long vigil. But while she continued to
gaze steadily at Craig Porter, every sense alive to catch his need of
careful nursing, she could not center her thoughts on her patient.
Slowly she reviewed the happenings of the day—her meeting with
Beverly Thorne; his possession of the black-edged card. Was it mere
chance, Fate or Fury which had entwined their paths? Could she
place dependence upon Thorne? Her heart beat more swiftly and a
vivid blush dyed her cheeks as recollection rose of the message his
eyes conveyed as they stood together at Diamond Rock barely eight
hours before. Pshaw! she was not impressionable, like Dorothy and
Millicent—and experience had taught her something of man’s
duplicity.
Vera blinked violently, and leaned over to smooth out an infinitesimal
wrinkle from the white sheet. Craig Porter had not awakened, and
she forced thoughts of Beverly Thorne out of her mind and instead
endeavored to recall her scene with Mrs. Porter in the library. As she
remembered the expression in the older woman’s eyes when she
had asked, “Who in this household would have a motive for killing
Bruce Brainard?” Vera turned cold. Why had she not obliged Mrs.
Porter to give a direct answer to her own question—at least she
would have had her suspicions either confirmed or denied; any
alternative would have been preferable to the intolerable suspense
she was enduring.
She passed a hand before her eyes, and her thoughts took a new
trend. What had brought Alan Noyes back to the Porters’ when he—
The opening of the hall door abruptly terminated her troubled
reflections, and she rose as Mrs. Porter entered the room.
Without speaking Mrs. Porter tiptoed over to the bed and gazed long
and earnestly at her son.
“Is he really asleep?” she whispered.
“Yes, Mrs. Porter. Won’t you take my chair?” placing it for her.
Mrs. Porter seated herself, drawing Vera down to sit on the arm in
order that she might speak confidentially and not raise her voice.
“I can do nothing with Millicent,” she said wearily. “Arguments,
commands, are of no avail; she will not go to bed, will not even slip
on her wrapper and lie down on the lounge. She declares that she
cannot sleep, that she must have ‘air, air.’” Mrs. Porter pushed her
hair off her forehead. “She even threatens to go for a walk.”
“At this hour?”
“Yes. I thought of sending for your sister to quiet her, but concluded
to come for you. Your nursing experience can decide if she needs a
sedative.”
“Shall I call Dr. Noyes to attend her?”
“No.” Mrs. Porter’s mouth closed obstinately. “Except that her
manner is a trifle wild and her cheeks unduly flushed, Millicent
seems rational. You have great influence with her, Vera; go and quiet
her.”
“But I cannot leave your son.”
“Yes, you can; I will stay here until you return.” Mrs. Porter spoke
authoritatively and Vera hesitated, Noyes’ caution of the moment
before recurring to her; he had told her that Mrs. Porter should be
humored, and there was nothing for her to do but obey his
instructions. She looked again at Craig Porter, whose closed eyes and
regular breathing indicated that his sleep was uninterrupted. If
Millicent did require medical attendance she could summon Dr.
Noyes and Mrs. Hall, and return to her regular duties. A thought
occurred to her, and she turned back to Mrs. Porter.
“Would you like me to call Mrs. Hall?”
“Mercy, no!” Mrs. Porter frowned; she objected to suggestions, no
matter how well meant they were. “Go at once, Vera, I do not like to
leave Millicent alone for any length of time. She is sitting in the
boudoir.”
With a last look at her patient, Vera left the room and sought the
boudoir; it was empty. She went at once to Millicent’s bedroom and,
her gentle tap getting no response, she opened the door and went
in. Millicent was not there, and, somewhat perplexed, Vera looked
into the communicating dressing-room and from there passed into
her sister’s bedroom. Dorothy was lying asleep on the bed, her gas-
light turned low, but as Vera bent over her she saw traces of recent
tears on her pale cheeks and forbore to wake her.
Returning to the hall she stood debating as to whether to report to
Mrs. Porter or continue her search for Millicent on the first floor. She
decided to go back to Mrs. Porter, but as she paused in front of the
door of Craig Porter’s bedroom a faint noise caused her to look
hastily down the hall just as Millicent emerged from the attic stairs
and disappeared down the back staircase. The acetylene lights at
either end of the long hall were burning dimly, as Mrs. Porter
deemed it unsafe to keep the house in darkness, and Vera saw that
Millicent was enveloped in some sort of a cloak.
Considerably perturbed, Vera hesitated, but only for a moment; then
she sped after Millicent. Mrs. Porter was on guard in the sick room,
and she had sent her to look after her daughter. If Millicent, in a
moment of delirium perhaps, attempted to walk abroad at that hour
of the night she must be reasoned with and stopped.
Vera’s disturbed ideas took form as she dashed downstairs, the
sound of her approach deadened by her rubber-soled shoes. She
was halfway down the circular staircase when she saw Millicent
fumbling with the lock, by aid of the moonlight streaming through
the fanlight over the side door. The clang of the night chain when
Millicent unhooked it drowned Vera’s low-voiced call, and, snatching
up a small bundle which she had placed on a console, Millicent
darted out into the night. Her foot turned just as she was about to
descend the few steps leading to the graveled path, and only her
outflung hand saved her from a nasty fall. Recovering herself and
never glancing behind her, she hastened up the path, being careful,
however, to tread only on the turf.
Vera, unmindful of the chill wind and her coatless condition, paused
only long enough to close the door, then hurried after Millicent. She
had taken but a few steps beyond the house when her foot struck
against something which whizzed ahead of her, and she caught the
glint of moonlight on metal. Catching up with the small object, she
stooped over and picked it up. It was a razor.
Vera’s heart beat with suffocating rapidity as she tore ahead. What
fresh tragedy was impending? To her dismay she saw Millicent was
gaining ground. What use to call—no one was near—and she needed
every ounce of breath to overtake the flying figure. Millicent kept a
fairly straight course, then, darting among a clump of laurel bushes,
disappeared from view, but only for a moment, as Vera, circling the
bushes, caught sight of her cutting across fields toward Thornedale,
but instead of continuing her approach to the low, rambling hunting
lodge, she doubled on her tracks and half slid down a steep
embankment.
Vera, hampered by her unfamiliarity with the ground, was some
minutes later in reaching the top of the embankment, and she halted
abruptly on seeing Millicent, no sign of her recent haste discernible,
seated at the bottom of the embankment, apparently resting at her
ease. Shifting clouds temporarily obscured the moon, and Vera
waited expectantly before attempting the descent, dropping to her
knees behind a cluster of shrubs as she decided to call and ask
Millicent to wait for her. But her intentions received a check as a
figure turned the corner of the winding highway, and a voice
addressed Millicent.
“Who is here?” The next instant an electric pocket torch played
across her face, then flickered out as Hugh Wyndham exclaimed in
deep astonishment, “Millicent!”
His cousin threw out her hand as if to ward off the censure she felt
coming.
“The house was stifling, Hugh,” she explained hurriedly. “I simply
had to come out,” rising. “I’ll walk back with you. My head feels
better already.”
Wyndham gazed at her in undisguised concern. “I wish I had known
—” he began, and broke off. “Come, Millicent.” And slipping his arm
inside hers, he led her with gentle determination in the direction of
her house. Vera, greatly relieved at having Wyndham take charge of
his cousin, was about to rise from her cramped position and follow
them, when the razor, which she still clutched, slipped from her
grasp and slid down the embankment. Instinctively she reached for
it, lost her balance and went plunging down to the roadway. In an
instant she was on her feet, the razor once again in hand, and she
started forward but, confused by her tumble, she did not realize that
she was headed in the wrong direction until she had taken several
steps.
 “Hush!” he whispered. “No noise. Look——”
As she paused she became aware that someone was approaching
swiftly down the road, and suddenly awakening to the fact that
Millicent and Wyndham were out of sight in the opposite direction,
and that it must be long after midnight, she made a few hesitating
steps toward a hedge and stopped irresolutely; there was no reason
why she should run away. She held up the razor and the sight of the
burnished steel in the light from the moon, which had come from
behind the obscuring clouds, reassured her. She was not without
protection, but a sudden doubt assailed her; how was she to
account for the possession of the razor? Millicent might have
dropped it in her flight from the house—but why had Millicent
carried a razor—it was a toilet article not usually possessed by
women. Could it be that Millicent was striving to get rid of the razor
surreptitiously? The police were still searching for the set of razors
from which had been taken the razor used to kill Bruce Brainard—
Vera’s arm was raised to fling the razor far from her when a hand
was clapped over her mouth and she was pulled down in the shadow
of the hedge bordering the road. Her startled eyes looked straight at
Beverly Thorne.
“Hush!” he whispered. “No noise. Look!”
And following his pointing finger Vera saw a man run across the
opposite field, vault the fence and hurry down the road. He was
entirely out of sight before Thorne removed his hand from Vera’s
shoulder, and, rising, he helped her up.
“Come,” he said, and in silence accompanied her to the Porter
mansion.
Vera, her ideas too chaotic for utterance, detained him at the side
door. “Who was the man we saw run up the road?” she asked. “His
figure looked familiar, but I did not get a clear view of his face.”
“It was Detective Mitchell,” responded Thorne softly, lifting his cap.
“Good night.”
Not until she was safely inside the Porter mansion did Vera
remember the razor—she gazed blankly at her empty hands. Had
she dropped the razor in her excitement or—had Beverly Thorne
taken it from her?
 CHAPTER XVI
HARE AND HOUNDS

WYNDHAM, taking no precautions to walk lightly, tramped down the

hall oblivious of the bright sunshine which streamed through the
windows, whistling dismally below his breath. As he came abreast of
his cousin’s bedroom the door, which stood partly ajar, was opened
fully and Mrs. Hall stepped into the corridor, a finger to her lip.
Wyndham halted abruptly.
“Is anything the matter?” he questioned, alarmed by her manner.
“Miss Porter has been given a sedative,” she said, closing the
bedroom door softly. “The slightest noise—your whistling—”
“Oh, I beg pardon,” in deep contrition. “I was not aware—is she
seriously ill?”
“A trifle feverish.” Mrs. Hall glanced at him doubtfully, looked away,
then bowed and laid her hand on the knob of the bedroom door, but
Wyndham, quick to catch her expression, checked her by an
imperative gesture.
“You wish to ask me something?”
All hesitancy vanished as Mrs. Hall met his steadfast regard and
came unconsciously under the influence of his friendly smile. “Your
cousin,” she began, “your cousin in her delirium begged me to find
out if she had hidden them safely.”
Wyndham stared at her. “Hidden what?”
“She never said, but repeated over and over that she wished me to
go and see if she had hidden them safely.” Mrs. Hall moved nearer,
and lowered her voice. “I trust Miss Porter will be normal when she
wakens. I had to use physical strength to prevent her from going out
to see ‘if she had hidden them safely.’”
Wyndham failed to catch her furtive glance as he stood considering
her words. He roused himself with an effort. “I have no idea to what
my cousin alludes,” he said, and his glance sharpened. “How is your
other patient this morning?”
“Mr. Porter is about the same.” Mrs. Hall grew grave. “Dr. Noyes is
with him until Miss Deane awakens from her nap. She has
volunteered to do double duty.”
“I see; let me know if I can be of assistance in taking care of Craig,”
said Wyndham, and, bowing, he went downstairs.
Mrs. Hall did not at once re-enter Millicent’s bedroom, but when she
did her expression was not pleasant.
Wyndham was not noted for patience at any time, and when he
strode into the dining-room his manner showed his frame of mind.
He had a vanishing view of the butler, Selby, carrying a tray upstairs,
but Murray’s non-appearance after he had repeatedly rung the bell
added to his irritation. Jerking back his chair he pushed open the
swing door.
“Murray!” he roared, and his voice carried through the pantry and
into the kitchen beyond.
“Coming, sir, coming,” and the footman followed his words with such
precipitancy that he almost collided with Wyndham. “Beg pardon, sir,
for keeping you waiting, but cook felt fainty-like, and I was just
helpin’ the maids give her some pneumonia.”
“Too bad!” Wyndham, concealing a smile, resumed his seat. “I hope
she feels better.”
“Yes, sir, thank you. Your breakfast is being kept warm for you; shall
I bring it in?”
A nod sufficed in answer as Wyndham spied the morning newspaper,
and paying no further attention to the footman he turned sheet after
sheet with feverish haste. With little to feed upon, excitement about
the Brainard murder had abated, and the column devoted to it had
been relegated to the third page. The reporter assigned to the case
had evidently had difficulty in finding a new angle in handling the
mystery, and had devoted his energies to concocting an ingenious
résumé. But one paragraph near the bottom of the column riveted
Wyndham’s attention.
Detective Mitchell, when interviewed last night, confirmed
the report that events in the career of Bruce Brainard
before he came to Washington were being investigated,
and a thorough search made into the dead man’s private
affairs. Brainard was a self-made man, and while a
student at the Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute at Troy, N.
Y., he spent his summer vacations working as private
secretary to the Director of the Bureau of Engraving and
Printing in Washington. Brainard afterward made a name
for himself in his profession, and was one of the
recognized high-salaried consulting engineers of this
country.
All efforts to establish the ownership of the razor used to
kill Brainard have been unproductive of result. The
detectives claim the razor is one of a set, but where and
by whom the other razors of the set have been hidden in
the Porter homestead is a mystery.
“Deviled kidney, sir,” prompted Murray, presenting a piping hot dish,
and Wyndham, with a thoughtful air, laid down the newspaper and
commenced his breakfast.
“Where is Mrs. Porter?” he inquired presently.
“Breakfasting upstairs, sir.” Murray, who had brought in a fresh
supply of coffee, hastened to fill Wyndham’s empty cup. “Selby is
serving her and Miss Dorothy in the boudoir. Have another muffin,
sir?”
As Wyndham attacked his third muffin with unabated appetite,
Dorothy Deane strolled into the dining-room, and he rose to place a
chair for her, his face brightening at her entrance.
“It was very unkind of you not to wait and have breakfast with me,”
he said reproachfully, as she declined Murray’s offer of a cup of hot
coffee.
“Mrs. Porter asked me to stay with her. I only ran down thinking that
Vera might be getting her breakfast.”
Wyndham looked as hurt as he felt. “I am sorry—” he said stiffly.
Impulsively Dorothy extended her hand and he clasped it eagerly,
and Murray, his solemn countenance relieved by a sympathetic
smile, discreetly vanished.
“Don’t,” she pleaded brokenly, “don’t find fault with me. I—I can’t
stand it from you.”
Wyndham saw that her eyes were brimming with tears. The next
instant she was in his arms, and as he caught the passionate light in
her eyes his heart swelled with thanksgiving, the irresistible force of
love had conquered the constraint growing between them. But his
moment of rejoicing was short lived as, regaining some semblance
of composure, she quietly unclasped his hands and rose.
“We are both mad, Hugh,” she said, with a pitiful attempt at a smile.
“Under existing circumstances we cannot be married.”
“Why not?” hotly, with honest worship in his eyes. “I see no barrier,
except of your imagining.”
She recoiled. “Hush, Hugh! I cannot discuss it—it’s too near, too
dreadful—” She covered her eyes and so missed the look he shot at
her.
Without a word he turned and paced agitatedly up and down the
room, coming at last to a full stop beside her. “Very well, if you wish
it I will not allude to past events.” His voice was so changed that she
looked at him in quick alarm. “But you must understand, Dorothy,
that your love is to me more than all the world; that I have never
ceased to love you.”
She moved impulsively toward him, then checked herself, her eyes
downcast; she dared not look at him or her resolution would have
given way.
“Finish your breakfast,” she said in a voice which quivered in spite of
her endeavor to keep it calm; she was very near to tears. “Are you
going to Washington this morning?”
“No.” He accepted her effort to make the conversation impersonal
with marked displeasure, then, thinking better of his ungracious
monosyllable, he added hastily, “Is there anything I can do for you in
town?”
“There is nothing, thanks,” she said drearily, and looked past him
through one of the windows in time to see Dr. Alan Noyes walking
swiftly along the path which circled the house. Dorothy watched
Noyes out of sight, then turned back to Wyndham, her eyes dark
with wonder.
“Hugh,” she almost whispered her words, and he bent eagerly
nearer, “why has Alan Noyes discontinued wearing his false arm?”
He did not reply at once, and she remarked his silence, but before
she could repeat her question he addressed her.
“I cannot imagine,” he admitted. “It is a move likely to turn suspicion
toward him, and it will not lessen the conviction that he is perhaps
responsible for Brainard’s murder.”
“Why?”
“Because without the arm he could not have committed the crime;
therefore, if he is guilty the first thing he would do would be to get
rid of the arm—if innocent he would have continued to use it.”
“But his motive?” Dorothy frowned in perplexity. “The only person he
might protect by such a subterfuge never murdered Bruce Brainard.”
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