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Updated: May 20, 2025
Churchill pushed back his hat, and held his gloved hand toward the fire. "Bedney, I want to see that handkerchief you found in your master's room, the day after he was murdered." "What hankchuf, Marse Alfred? I done tole everything I know, to the Crowner's inquess." "I dare say you did; but something was found afterward. I want to see it." "Who has been villifying of me?
The red vases what stood on the fire-place mantle was smashed on the carpet, and the handi'on was close to Marster's right hand. The vault was open, and papers was strowed plentiful round on the floor under it. Then the neighburs and the Doctor, and the Crowner come runnin' in, and I sot down by the bed and cried like a chile. Pretty soon they turned us all out and hilt the inquess."
"You miserable coward. Is the house open? Where is the key of this room?" "Hanging on the horseshoe under my chimbly board. I'll fetch it and unlock the front door, so you kin git in, and hold your inquess inside." "Will you go, Churchill, or shall I?" "What is your idea?" "To ascertain whether the images are on the glass, as I believe, and if they can be seen without the background.
Mars Lennox and Mars Alfred, there is one thing I insists on havin'. The law is all lop-sided from fust to last in this here case, and I want it squoze into shape, till t'other side swells out a little. I want the Crowner to go up yonder now, and hold another inquess. He's done sot all wrong on the body, and now let him set on the sperrit if he kin. I'm in plum earnest.
Eavesdrapping is her trade; she was fotch up on it, and her ears fit a key-hole, like a bung plugs a barrel. She has eavesdrapped that hankchiff chat of our'n somehow. Wuss than that, Bedney, she sot thar this evening and faced me down, that I was hiding something else; that I picked up something on the floor and hid it in my bosom, after the crowner's inquess.
Why, if I'd hit that boy with that there fist as hard as ever I could, there wouldn't be no boy now, only a coroner's inquess. Bah! I wonder at you, Sir Francis! There's none of my marks on him, only where I gripped his arms. Take off your jacket, youngster, and show your pa." "How dare you!" cried Philip indignantly.
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