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Updated: May 24, 2025
During the last two or three days, she had noticed that Miss Minford, or Pet, as she always called her, was worried about something. She would not tell Mrs. Crull what was the matter, but Mrs. Crull somehow guessed that it was a love affair.
Behind the counter stood one of those thin ladies who have dedicated themselves to the millinery and a single life. At that distance, she looked to Bog like a perfectly respectable woman, with a sharp eye to business. Farther on, toward the end of the same counter, was the angel of his heart, Patty Minford.
C. Skimmerhorn, Esq., would have retorted severely, but his attention, and that of all the crowd, was drawn, at that moment, to a citizen who came forward, and, in a state of beathless excitement, said he guessed he knew what it all meant. He was in New York that afternoon, and read, in one of the evening papers, an account of a dreadful murder committed on an old man named Minford.
"That is a solemn adjuration," said the inventor, after a short pause, "and should not be lightly taken." Marcus looked well at Mr. Minford. Unbelief was written in every hard line and wrinkle of that white, deathlike face. "Do you doubt me now?" he asked, sharply. His sensitiveness on the subject of personal honor and veracity was painfully acute. He had never told a lie in his life.
Marcus Wilkeson's first thought was of the unfathomed murder. His startled face expressed what was passing through his mind. The strange woman read his thoughts. "The crime to which I refer is not the murder of Mr. Minford; of which, I may here say, I believed, from the first, that you were entirely innocent. Crimes of that character, at least have never been known in your family."
But neither the coroner, nor the jury, nor the reporters, nor the few private citizens who had obtained entrance by special dispensation, and sat gaping about the room, attracted the attention of the prisoner. Before him was one in whose presence all other persons faded into nothingness the fair disturber of his peaceful life the arbitress of his fate Patty Minford.
"I don't know much about the case yet," said the lieutenant, "but, jumping at a conclusion, I should say that this sneaking chap was jealous of your intimacy with the Minford family; that he wrote the anonymous letters to the old man, in a different hand, and that he either committed the murder, or knows something about it.
Crull then proceeded to explain, a little incoherently, that she had taken Miss Minford to her house, the day after the murder, and had asked the poor child to live with her, to be her adopted daughter. Miss Minford had gladly accepted the offer, and had stayed there until yesterday.
Upon being introduced to Uncle Ith, Marcus gave the old man's hand a warm pressure, but said nothing. But Uncle Ith saw in his eyes an expression of the deepest gratitude, and he knew what it meant; for he had read the report of the inquest at Overtop's office, and there learned, for the first time, the unhappy connection of Marcus Wilkeson with the Minford affair.
I had a little sister once long since dead that much resembled her. I should add, that, though Miss Minford seemed to think very well of the young man there, when he brought her here, she became quite suspicious of him yesterday he was here all yesterday afternoon and refused to ride out with him, though he had brought a handsome carriage for her. I advised her not to go." "Thank you, good Mrs.
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