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Someone who was not Manderson had worn these shoes, and worn them recently; the edges of the tears were quite fresh. The possibility of someone having worn them since Manderson's death was not worth considering; the body had only been found about twenty-six hours when I was examining the shoes; besides, why should any one wear them?
There's a plan of burglary say a couple of men in it and Martin squared. They know where the plate is, and all about the handy little bits of stuff in the drawing-room and elsewhere. They watch the house; see Manderson off to bed; Martin comes to shut the window, and leaves it ajar accidentally on purpose.
"That is precisely the point," he said, "on which I can be of some assistance to you." Trent glanced up in surprise. "I told you I half expected you. I will explain the situation. Mrs. Manderson, who is my niece " "What!" Trent laid down his knife and fork. "Cupples, you are jesting with me." "I am perfectly serious, Trent, really," returned Mr. Cupples earnestly.
He drew one of the defamed chairs to the table and sat down to test the broad ivory blade of the paper knife. Mr. Cupples, swallowing his amazement, bent forward in an attitude of deep interest and handed Trent the bottle of lamp-black. Mrs. Manderson stood at the window of her sitting-room at White Gables gazing out upon a wavering landscape of fine rain and mist.
A row of shoes and boots was ranged beneath the window. Trent crossed the room and studied them intently; then he measured some of them with his tape, whistling very softly. This done, he sat on the side of the bed, and his eyes roamed gloomily about the room. The photographs on the mantelshelf attracted him presently. He rose and examined one representing Marlowe and Manderson on horseback.
It has also produced a number of very able men on the Republican side, such men, for instance, as C.F. Manderson, and John M. Thurston, who both served the State in the United States Senate, and made brilliant records. But Mr. Bryan had an advantage over these two when he stood before a popular audience in Nebraska, because they had been identified with the railroad interests, while he had not.
So I thought it over carefully, and next day I watched my opportunity and met Manderson as he passed by this hotel. I asked him to favor me with a few minutes' conversation, and he stepped inside the gate down there. We had held no communication of any kind since my niece's marriage, but he remembered me, of course. I put the matter to him at once and quite definitely.
Before his corpse was buried his countrymen had made a strange discovery: that the existence of the potent engine of monopoly that went by the name of Sigsbee Manderson had not been a condition of even material prosperity. The panic blew itself out in two days, the pieces were picked up, the bankrupts withdrew out of sight; the market "recovered a normal tone."
It was certainly Manderson who had dined at the house and gone out with Marlowe in the car. People had seen him at close quarters. But was it he who returned at ten? That question too seemed absurd enough. But I could not set it aside.
He had then returned in the car to Marlstone, where he had shown great amazement and horror at the news of the murder. These, I say, are the relevant facts about Marlowe. I would first draw attention to one important fact. The only person who professed to have heard Manderson mention Southampton at all before he started in the car was Marlowe.
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