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Updated: June 24, 2025
I don't see where you get that stuff about his weak alibi. It's copper-riveted!" "He says so, you mean." "Yes; and the way he says it. But I followed your advice. I've advertised, through the police here and up and down the Atlantic coast, for any automobile party or parties who went along that Sloanehurst road last night between ten-thirty and eleven-thirty." "Fine!" Hastings congratulated.
Barton remembered having seen a man leave his car at Ridgecrest, the next stop before Sloanehurst, at twenty-five minutes past ten last night. He answered Russell's description, had seemed greatly agitated, and was unfamiliar with the stops on the line, having questioned Barton as to the distance between Ridgecrest and Sloanehurst. That was all the conductor had to tell. "Mrs.
The latter interest had brought Hastings to the Sloane country home in Virginia. Judge Wilton, an old friend of the wrecked and wealthy Mr. Sloane, had met the detective on the street in Washington and urged: "Go down to Sloanehurst and spend Saturday night. I'll be there when you arrive. Sloane's got his mind set on seeing you; and you won't regret it.
Arthur Sloane rejected his proffered help in the pursuit of the man who had brought murder to the doors of Sloanehurst. Why? Was this his method of hiding facts in his possession? Hastings questioned him again: "Your waking up at that unusual hour last night was it because of a noise outside?"
As Hendricks went out, there was another telephone call, this time from Crown, to make amends for coolness he had shown Hastings at Sloanehurst. "I was wrong, and you were right," he conceded, handsomely; "I mean about that Brace woman. Better keep your man on her trail." "What's up?" Hastings asked amicably. "That's what I want to know! I've seen her again.
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