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Updated: June 25, 2025
I picked it up but as it was too hot to handle I put on my asbestos gloves, used for changing barrels of machine guns, and carried it "home" where I put it away, intending to get some artilleryman to remove the fuse and explosive so that I might keep it as a souvenir; but a bunch of boys from the Eighteenth Battalion found it, and taking it back to their dug-out at Ridgewood, tried to unload it themselves.
No one in or about Ridgewood knew Sile Keene, and so he did not at the outset deem it necessary to assume a disguise. The bereaved brother did not live at the cottage after the murder, but found a room at the village tavern. Oft times, however, he wandered to the lonely cottage, and in silence brooded over the scene of the murder. He stood thus one day when the sound of a step startled him.
One had bought a damaged dress-pattern in Ridgewood, and had gone that afternoon to obtain satisfaction. "I set there in Yates & Upham's four mortal hours," said she, in a triumphant tone, "and they kep' comin' and askin' me things, and sayin' would I do this and that, but I jest stuck to what I said I would do in the first place, and finally they give in."
Ross admitted fully that he knew all about Mr. Kane. Recently, in conjunction with Mr. Norman Yale, of the wholesale grocery firm of Yale, Simpson & Rice, he had developed "Yalewood." Mr. Kane knew of that? Yes, Mr. Kane knew of that. Only within six weeks the last lots in the Ridgewood section of "Yalewood" had been closed out at a total profit of forty-two per cent.
He read of the burglary in the morning paper, and wondered if the police would prove any more successful in capturing the burglars than they had in elucidating the Ridgewood murder mystery. After the passage of twenty-four hours the young engineer became not a little anxious with regard to Silas Keene.
He met you down to Ridgewood?" "Yes. I am quite anxious to see your son on important business." "Come in to-morrow, then. I expect he'll be to home." The detective rose to go.
Several times I had started to Point Sublime, but there were difficulties about the trail. Sometime before 1900, Mr. Bass completed a trail on the north side of the river, up under the shoulders of Powell Plateau and out to the desired location. Starting for Point Sublime. In August, 1901, a party was arranged, consisting of Mrs. J. B. Gayler, of Ridgewood, New Jersey, a learned doctor from St.
Maria opened her pocket-book and said, mechanically, the name of the first station which came into her head, "Ridgewood." Ridgewood was a small city about fifteen miles distant. She had sometimes been there shopping. She gave the conductor a five-dollar bill, and he went away, murmuring something about the change.
She turned her back upon herself and her complex situation of life with infinite relief. She did not wonder what she would do when she reached Ridgewood. She did not think any more of herself. It was as if she had come into a room of life without any looking-glasses, and she was no longer visible to her own consciousness. She did not look at the other passengers.
"Yes." "I expect August'll be married as soon's he gets home." "And that will be when?" "Can't tell. It may be a month and it may be a year." "Quite an uncertainty, indeed." "Yes," heaving a deep sigh, "I'll be proper glad when they are settled." "I should think so. You have friends in Ridgewood." "None to speak of." "The Vanes " "Oh, yes, I know. They wan't my friends in petic'lar.
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