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Hopkins looked at him curiously. "What are you laughing at?" she inquired, with a sniff of disdain. "At at the way he come it over the gals up at Elmhurst. 'Rast's a pretty slick one, he is!" "What do you mean?" "Why, settin' that 'Liza to watch 'em, and tell all they does. Who'd a thought of it but 'Rast Hopkins?" "I don't see anything mighty funny about that," declared Mrs.
Boys, they've got her body er 'Rast's body er that other feller's body with 'em, an' they're skootin' down this pike so's to get to the big bridge. My idee is that they allowed to drop the body in the river, which ain't friz plum over." "Gee! We ain't expected to search all over the bottom of the river, are we, Anderson?" shivered Isaac Porter, the pump repairer.
"Do as you please," she answered carelessly. So Mr. Burke, for it was the detective, bade her good-night and took his leave, and it was not until after he had gone that Mary Hopkins remembered she had forgotten to ask him his name. "But it don't matter," she decided. "He's just one o' 'Rast's politicians, and I probably treated the fellow better than he deserved." On Sunday morning Mr.
A subtle sympathy seemed established between the two. "What do you think of 'Rast's chances?" she asked, presently, as she threaded new cotton into her needle. "I guess he'll win. He's worked hard enough, anyhow." "Has he?" "Yes; 'Rast's a good worker. He don't leave any stone unturned. He's up to all the tricks o' the trade, is 'Rast Hopkins!" Here he began shaking with silent laughter, and Mrs.
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