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"Just one thing to be careful about of course, it's a mouse trying to steer a lion for me to advise you but watch those people, when they get on the subject of business. Sometimes they work people, you know." Norcross's face, fixed on the third monument from the south door of Old Trinity, permitted itself the luxury of a slight smile. "I'm safe there," he responded.
There was the time on Wall Street when Norcross, by a lift of his finger, a deflection of his eye, might have put his cousin and only known relative on the right side of the market. He withheld the sign, and his cousin lost. The survivors in Norcross's circle of friends understood this perfectly; it was why they survived.
I can tell it by your voice. . . . Now, listen, and I'll give you a pointer that will prove it to you. Of course you've had this murder case worked over by your staff of bright young blockheads. Half of the second button on old Mrs. Norcross's nightgown is broken off. I saw it when I took the garnet ring off her finger. I thought it was a ruby. . . Stop that! it won't work."
McFarlane winced a little at her daughter's use of Norcross's first name, but she said nothing further at the moment, although she watched Berrie closely while she took off Wayland's shoes and stockings and rubbed his icy feet. "Get him something hot as quick as you can!" she commanded; and Mrs. McFarlane obeyed without a word.
"Yes; the Supervisor's office is here, and these are his help." This information added to Norcross's interest and cheered him a little. He knew something of the Forest Service, and had been told that many of the rangers were college men. He resolved to make their acquaintance. "If I'm to stay here they will help me endure the exile," he said.
Wouldn't it be better, in your present condition of suspicion, if I try to see what we can do without seeming any further to inspect you? For you must know that long preliminary conversation is a stock method with frauds and fakirs." Norcross's breath came a little faster, and a curious change passed for a second over his face a falling of all the masses and lines. Mrs.
"I want to see Uncle Joe on business, anyhow, and you'll like the ride better than the journey by stage." Leaving the horses standing with their bridle-reins hanging on the ground, she led the way to the office. "When father comes in, tell him where I've gone, and send Mr. Norcross's packs by the first wagon. Is your outfit ready?" she asked. "Not quite. I can get it ready soon."
"I swear I thought the job was as clean and as smooth as a peeled onion. Did I leave a string hanging out anywhere?" Woods laid upon the table a small gold pencil intended for a watch-charm. "It's the one I gave you the last Christmas we were in Saint Jo. I've got your shaving mug yet. I found this under a corner of the rug in Norcross's room. I warn you to be careful what you say.
"Wal, I swow!" said Biah, after having turned the paper in his hands, "if this 'ere don't beat all! There's old Squire Norcross's name on't. It's the receipt, full and square. What's come over the old crittur? He must a' got religion in his old' age; but if grace made him do that, grace has done a tough job, that's all; but it's done anyhow! and that's all you need to care about.
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