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Or have you any idea how much it has amounted to in the last twenty, without our ever getting one cent back? Well, there's ten thousand in the Hartford and eight in the Monongahela and eleven in " "Dear me, Jane!" exclaimed her brother, in some surprise; "where do you pick up all this?" Rosy turned her head half round. "Mr. Brower tells her," she said, with a disdainful brevity.
The girl I didn't know anything about, nor did I want to at that moment. I was plenty worried about my own precious hide just then. And if you think you are going to get a love story out of this, I warn you again to quit right now; you are not. Brower was going to walk into that gray old spider's web like a nice fat fly.
The road went mostly downhill, going out of the woods, and we could make good time. It was near midnight when we drove in at our gate. There was a light in the sitting-room and Uncle Eb and I went in with Gerald at once. Elizabeth Brower knelt at the feet of her son, unbuttoned his coat and took off his muffler. Then she put her arms about his neck while neither spoke nor uttered any sound.
The voice of Bingham came with a slow, deep gravity from the bay-window, and Jane's voice, responding, mingled nervously with her father's sigh. "Not from the new house?" said Brower. "Hardly. It will be almost finished, but far from furnished. Perhaps they will have their receptions there, if they decide to to come back." "Come back?"
As it moved away Brower heard again the voice of Bingham slow, grave, earnest a voice of warning and alarm, one might have thought. "Some of them are here for years before they take out their papers," rejoined Brower. "And lots of them never take them out at all." "I don't know what's to be done," said Marshall, with a fretful anxiety.
"It's packed good: it can't go off," Artie reassured us. "I know my biz." "What in God's name do you want such stuff for!" cried Judson. "Oh, just emergencies," answered Brower, vaguely, but I remembered his uncanny skill in opening the combination of the safe. Possibly that contract between Emory and Hooper had come into his hands through professional activities. However, that did not matter.
Nick Brower was the only one of the four who expiated his crime on the gallows. Harper Elliston died in prison by his own hand. He left a note admitting the express crime, and also confessing to the murder of Captain Osborne and the ruin of his daughter Sibyl. His was a fitting end to a career of unparalleled crime. We now draw a veil over the scene.
"I've talked with Rosy and I've talked with Arthur...." He lapsed into a comfortless silence, and ran his thin old hand over his blanched and furrowed forehead. "When are they going to be married?" asked Brower. His eyes were on the bay-window, through whose curtains there showed the face of Bingham, his own look anxiously fixed on Marshall.
'For Mrs Brower, were the words I read upon that one. The strings were cut, the wrappers torn away, and two big rolls of shiny silk loosened their coils on the table. Hope uttered a cry of delight. A murmur of surprise and admiration passed from one to another. Elizabeth lifted a rustling fold and held it to the lamplight We passed our hands over the smooth sheen of the silk.
Once or twice, while Brower was counselling with X Marshall on the door-step, another man Tom Bingham had been entertained by Jane within the breezy recesses of the bay-window. It was then that Brower realized with a kind of muffled desperation how completely he and Bingham seemed to have changed positions.
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