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Updated: May 18, 2025
"Yew know what you'll get ef you're lyin' to me," he threatened. "I believe he's telling the truth," said detective Burton. "Where is the man now?" he asked Willie. "Down to the Squibbs' place," and Willie jerked a dirty thumb toward the east. "Not now," said Burton; "we just came from there; but there has been someone there this morning, for there is still a fire in the kitchen range.
"I dunno," said Charlie; "but she was gassin' 'bout her pals croakin' a guy an' trunin' 'im outten a gas wagon, an' dis Oskaloosa Kid he croaks some old guy in Oakdale las' night. Mebby he ain't a bad 'un though!" "Where are they now?" asked Burton. "We got away from 'em at the Squibbs' place this mornin'," said Charlie. "Well," said Burton, "you boes come along with me.
Such stories are ridiculous; and even if there was a little truth in them, noises can't harm you as much as sleeping out in the storm. I'm going to encroach once more upon the ghostly hospitality of the Squibbs. Better come with me." The youth shuddered and drew back. From far behind came faintly the shout of a man. "Yes, I'll go," exclaimed the boy.
Less than five minutes later there ran into the same house of refreshment a little slight girl, perhaps thirteen years old; she carried a jug, and at the bar asked for 'a pint of old six. The barman, whilst drawing the ale, called out to a man who had entered immediately after the child: 'Don't know nobody called Snowdon about 'ere, do you, Mr. Squibbs?
The most imposing figure among the strangers was the same whom Bridge had seen approaching the Squibbs' house a short time before. It was he who acted as spokesman for the newcomers. "As you may know," he said, after introducing himself, "a number of crimes were committed in and around Oakdale last night.
I remember hearing as a little er child stories of the frightful things that happened there in the house where the Squibbs were murdered things that happened after dark when the lights were out. Oh, I wouldn't even pass that place on a night like this." The man smiled. "I slept there alone one rainy night about a year ago," he said. "I didn't see or hear anything unusual.
Nothing shall harm you, and when you wake up it will be morning and you'll laugh at your fears." "Lie on THAT bed!" The voice was almost a shriek. "That is the bed the Squibbs were murdered in the old man and his wife. No one would have it, and so it has remained here all these years. I would rather die than touch the thing. Their blood is still upon it."
He speaks of you in terms of the highest esteem. I get here time enough to go to bed, that is about 11 o'clock, and I do not leave this place till about nine, that is till Mie Mie and I have breakfasted together. There is one who has a knack at squibbs, as they call it, and he has a table and chair with a pen and ink before him, to write scurrilous papers, and these are sent directly to Mr.
They just happened to meet by accident during the storm and came to the Squibbs place together. They were kind to me, and I hate to tell anything that would get the boy in trouble. That is the reason I hesitated. He seemed such a nice boy! It is hard to believe that he is a criminal, and Bridge was always so considerate. He looks like a tramp; but he talks and acts like a gentleman."
"In front of the old Squibbs place they shot at me and threw me out; but the bullet missed me. I have not seen them since and do not know where they went. I am ready and willing to aid in their conviction; but, please Mr. Prim, won't you keep me from being sent back to Payson or to jail. I have done nothing criminal and I won't run away."
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