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You know, we are dealing with no ordinary criminal. Now, if I am right, she brought this gown back here on some of her subsequent trips. As to the knife, I don't know. I see no explanation as yet. Since she stabbed her victim with another knife why in the world hide this one up here? What say, Fibsy?" "'Way past me.
"When you going to exhibit?" he asked eagerly. "A little try at it next week. Want'a come?" "Don't I. Where?" "Hush! I'll whisper. Philadelphia." "I'll be there! Lemme 'no the date and all." "Yes, I will. Must you go? Here's your hat." Fibsy laughed, took the hint and departed. "What a feller!" he marveled to himself, as he went on his way. "Oh, gee! what a feller!"
"Yes, so do I. Now, look here, McGuire; I'm a good-natured sort, and I'm willing to overlook this raid of yours, if you'll join forces. I can help you, but only if you're frank and honest in whacking up with whatever info you have. I know something you know something will you go in cahoots?" "I would, Mr. Hanlon," and Fibsy looked regretful, "if I was my own boss. But, you see, I'm under orders.
"Fibsy who?" I asked, but I dropped my indignant tone, for the lad seemed to be composedly sure of his rights there. "Aw, jest Fibsy. That's me name, because, if you want to know, because I'm a natural born liar and I fib for a living." He was impudent without being offensive; his wide smile was good-natured and the twinkle in his eye a friendly one.
There are too many of us here, and as Eunice's counsel, I can look after her interests." Mason Elliott rose, and turned to Eunice. "Shall I go?" he said, and he gave her a look of entreaty a look of yearning, pleading love. "Go," she said, coldly. "Alvord will take care of me." And Elliott went. "It's this way, F. Stone," said Fibsy, earnestly, "the crooks of the situation " "The what?"
And you must not tell this. You must let it go as suicide. That is the only way to save yourself " "But they suspect Eunice " "They'll never convict her nor would they convict you. Tell them you got into communication with my spirit and I said it was suicide." "Ask him about the raspberry jam," put in Fibsy, in a stage whisper.
The red head nodded vigorously, as was the boy's habit, when much in earnest. Hanlon regarded him closely, and Fibsy returned the scrutiny. "Say," the boy broke out, suddenly. "I've seen you before. You're the man who found the hidden jackknife, in Newark!" "The same," and Hanlon smiled at him. "Were you present?" "I sure was! Gee! You're a wonder!"
I said, laughing, though the laugh choked in my throat, as I looked at Stone. "You see, Fibsy, you're gone dotty over this thing, and you're running round in circles. I know both Mrs. Schuyler and Miss Van Allen, and they've nothing in common. There couldn't be two people more dissimilar." "That's just it that's how I know," wailed the boy. "That's how I first caught on. You see oh, tell him, Mr.
You keep on like you've begun and your middle name'll soon be trouble! Good morning, ma'am." Fibsy rose, bowed and left the room so suddenly that Fifi hadn't time to stop him if she had wanted to. And he left behind him a decidedly scared little woman. Fibsy then went straight to the offices of Mason Elliott. He was admitted and given an audience at once. "What is it, McGuire?" asked the broker.
Stone's manner was ominous. He and Fibsy both were silent and grave-looking. We went in at the street door, into the hall and then to the living-room. Stone and I sat down, and Fibsy darted out to the dining-room, back to the hall and up the stairs, flashing on lights as he went.
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