Part 27 (1/2)

or 'Get Bob Moore to find the criminal,' or lots of things.”

”This is no time for fooling, Moore,” said Corson, gravely, ”but you're right that it's wasting time to puzzle over that phase of the message.

We're lucky in having the clear direction as to the s.e.x of the criminal,----”

”Unless it's all faked,” suggested Gibbs. ”How about the murderer being a clever man, who had this paper all ready, and brought it with him and laid it beside his victim?”

”Not a chance,” said Moore. ”I've checked up that handwriting and it's his. Mr Bates says so, and I've compared it to his writing,--lots of it.

That's Sir Binney's fist, all right.”

Feeling they had learned all they could from Moore, and also feeling decidedly tired and sleepy, the two detectives went home and to bed.

Not at once to sleep, however, for each had lots of thinking to do and each felt that there were more ways to look than had yet appeared.

But, also, each thought the Prall suspicion justified, and each planned to keep a wary eye in that direction.

Next morning, after waiting till such an hour as he thought late enough, Gibbs went to see Miss Prall.

He found a visitor already there, and he was presented to Mrs Everett.

To his surprise, Miss Prall made the introduction as casually as if it had been a meeting of social acquaintances, and Gibbs felt a little awkward at being expected to join in a general conversation.

But he was alertly interested in meeting Mrs Everett, and especially in circ.u.mstances where he might hear or see some manifestations of the feud he had heard of.

”My friend, Mrs Everett, is about to move away, so you're lucky to chance upon her here,” Miss Let.i.tia said, in honey-sweet tones.

”As to your luck, I express no opinion,” said the other lady, ”but as to moving away, I've not the slightest intention of such a thing.”

Mrs Everett was inclined to be fair, afraid of being fat and unwilling to admit being forty. She was pretty in a soft, faded way, and her voice, though low and pleasant, had a sharp tang to it, which, one felt sure, could increase at will.

”You said you would!” Miss Prall declared, ”but I long ago learned to put no faith in your a.s.sertions.”

”You're saying I lie?” asked Mrs Everett, and her voice was still placid.

”If the shoe fits, put it on,” Let.i.tia laughed. ”Only, you can't blame me for saying that of you, when you know it's the truth.”

”Dear friend,” murmured Mrs Everett, ”how can you think I'd go off and leave you while you're in such trouble? I feel I must stand by.”

”That's quite like you! Don't lose a chance to gloat over any sorrow or grief I may have!”

”Do you call it sorrow and grief? I didn't know you thought so much of the departed n.o.bleman--he was a n.o.bleman, wasn't he? Tut, tut, Let.i.tia!

and at your time of life! Well, I suppose it's habit that makes you set your cap for any man you chance to meet.”

”You always were the greatest for judging others by yourself, Adeline.

You were the celebrated cap-setter of your day. Ever since you worried poor, dear Mr Everett into his untimely grave, you've pursued the honorable business of cap-setting, alas! to no avail.”

”Don't you dare call my husband dear! I'll let you know, Let.i.tia Prall, he was not in the habit of calling you dear!”