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Updated: May 26, 2025
Can't you tell us where you went?" "I wandered around, up and down the down-town streets. That was all." "Well, remember," Bristow cautioned him. "If you can produce two or three people who saw you down there, it may help you a whole lot." "Oh, that's all right, I haven't done anything against the law. The idea's absurd." "Mr. Bristow's right," Greenleaf put in.
"Damn!" he addressed mentally the top of the Washington monument. "More grist for Bristow's mill! I'm not crazy, am I? I'm not that crazy, that's sure!" He set out to keep his appointment with Major Ross. After all, he felt reasonably sure of himself, and he had made up his mind to carry things through as he originally had intended. His shoulders were well back, his step elastic and quick.
The culprits were confined in the guard-house for different periods of time, those who had been the most active in inducing their comrades to desert serving a longer sentence than their victims, and fines were imposed upon all of them, Bristow's being by far the heaviest, as he was proved to be the ringleader.
Besides, it was in deep shadow where I was. I was not observed when my when Mrs. Withers left the house with an escort, a man, early in the evening." "And you waited until she returned?" "Yes; I waited." "Very well." There was for the first time a hint of sharpness in Bristow's voice. "You waited. What did you see?"
Even so, his ear was first to catch above the rattle of the buggy wheels the far-away, faint tonk-tonk! They were about half-way to Bristow's place then. He gave no sign, and it was perhaps half a minute before his companion heard it too. The constable jerked the horse to a standstill and craned his neck over his shoulder.
Greenleaf was now clearly conscious of what he had vaguely felt while listening to Bristow's questioning of Withers: the lame man had the faculty of seeming entirely inoffensive in his queries but at the same time putting into his voice an irritating, challenging quality which was bound to work on the feelings of the person to whom he talked. He had begun to have this effect on Miss Fulton.
Bristow's wife brought a bucket of fresh drinking water and a gourd, and almost before she was out of the room and the door closed behind her the squire had sworn his jurors and was calling the first witness, who it seemed likely would also be the only witness Bristow's oldest boy. The boy wriggled in confusion as he sat on a cane-bottomed chair facing the old magistrate.
For the past few minutes a change had been taking place in the bearing of Withers. It was as if, having recovered slightly from the terrific shock of his wife's death, he was gradually stiffening, gaining the strength necessary to withstand the swift volley of Bristow's questions. The questioner, sensing this alteration in the other, made his queries all the quicker and more peremptory.
He put them down on a table in one corner near Bristow's typewriter. "Still figuring 'em out, I see," he said grimly. He referred to Bristow's habit of reading murder mysteries in the newspapers and working them out to satisfactory solutions. That was Bristow's way of amusing himself while set down in Furmville for the long struggle to overcome the tuberculosis with which he was afflicted.
Seeing that he knew nothing of his son-in-law's disappearance, Bristow dropped the subject, and asked: "What is Miss Fulton's belief now? She still thinks Morley is the man?" The old man hitched his chair closer to Bristow's and lowered his voice. "She says a curious thing, Mr. Bristow. She declares that, if Morley isn't guilty, George Withers is." "And you?"
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