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Updated: June 26, 2025
We've had plans for extension standing over until I could give my mind to them. I may be able to do so soon, and expect to consult you and Featherstone. In the meantime, I got your telegram and another that to some extent put me wise. But I want a full account, beginning when you left." Foster told his story, and when he stopped, Hulton pondered for a minute or two.
One of the gang had killed Fred Hulton, and Foster did not suppose the others would hesitate about getting rid of him, if it could be done without putting the police on their track. A shot or stab in the dark would effectually prevent his betraying them, and it might be made to look like an accident, or perhaps as if he had killed himself.
I imagined that Hulton was grateful. It's true that I don't see how the accident could have happened, but I don't believe Fred shot himself. Though it was an open verdict, you and I and Hulton are perhaps the only people who take this view." "We'll let it drop until to-morrow. What did you learn at Toronto?"
The ice seems to be holding in the near Bay from a point near Hulton Rocks to Glacier; also in the whole of the North Bay except for a tongue of open water immediately north of the Glacier. The wind is the same to-day as yesterday, and the open water apparently not reduced by a square yard. I'm feeling impatient.
Anyhow, as he has been a pretty good friend of ours, we will have to go, but I wouldn't have imagined he'd have been ready to talk about the tragedy just yet." "You think that is what he wants to talk about?" Featherstone nodded. "We knew Fred Hulton better than anybody at the Crossing, and at the inquiry I tried to indicate that his death was due to an accident.
The man was sentenced for robbery, and Foster's evidence, although objected to by the defense, sufficed to prove that Fred Hulton had no complicity in the theft. A few weeks later, when Featherstone and his family were at the Crossing, Hulton sent for Foster. "I suppose you won't want to sell the mill?" he asked. "No," said Foster. "Business looks like booming and our chances are pretty good."
He did not look like a detective, and Foster felt nearly sure he had not got on board at the Crossing. This seemed to indicate that he could not have been investigating the tragedy there, particularly since Hulton had only recovered from the shock a few days ago. Then Hulton had stated that he meant to send for a New York man, and not that he had done so.
"It's strange we haven't heard from Lawrence yet," he said in a disturbed voice. "He hasn't given the Canadian post office his new address, because here's a letter they have sent on." "From Hulton, who seems to be in Toronto," said Foster, picking up the envelope. "As I'm a partner, I'll open it."
Indeed, some were marked by an air of smartness that was half aggressive. A large number were employed at the Hulton factory, but there were brown-faced farmers and miners from the bush, as well as storekeepers from the town. On the whole, their dress, manners and conversation were American, and Foster was sometimes puzzled by their inconsistency.
"Very well," Hulton resumed in a shaky voice. "I brought you here because you knew my son and I wanted your support. Then I meant to convince Percival, whose help I may need to clear the boy's good name. We'll let that go and try to be practical." "Were the bonds negotiable?" Foster asked. "Could they be easily sold?"
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