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Updated: July 6, 2025
"There's but one feeling in town to-day, but one hope, and, as I believe, but one prayer. That the man whom every one loves and every one trusts may live to run these Works." "Edith! Edith!" rose in ceaseless reiteration from within. But it rang but faintly now in the ears of our detective. The door had fallen to, and Sweetwater's share in the anxieties of that household was over.
Yet the experience was none too pleasing to George, and he was very glad to hear Sweetwater's whisper again at his ear, and to feel himself rescued from the pool of slush in which he had been left to stand. "The approach is not all that can be desired," remarked the detective as they entered what appeared to be a low shed.
"Do you put that as a question?" "I do. Did you see her figure or face that night?" "I did." Nothing not even the rattling of Sweetwater's papers disturbed the silence which followed this admission. "From where?" Dr. Heath asked at last. "From a point far enough away to make any communication between us impossible. I do not think you will require me to recall the exact spot."
They would know how to appreciate your double gifts and how to reward your excellence in the one, if not in the other. What did the police expect to learn about me that they should consider it necessary to call into exercise such extraordinary talents?" "I'm not good at conundrums. I was given a task to perform, and I performed it," was Sweetwater's sturdy reply.
It was dark where they stood and Sweetwater's back was to the moonlight, so that the blank look which must have crossed his face at this announcement was lost upon the constable. But his consternation was evident from the way he thrust out either hand to steady himself against the walls of the narrow passageway, and Mr. Fenton was not at all surprised to hear him stammer out: "Dead! He!
He bets like an Englishman not for the money, for the sums he risks are small, but for the love of it the fun the transient excitement It might be" here Sweetwater's words came slowly and with shamefaced pauses "that the shooting of that arrow I believe I said something like this before was the result of a dare." A halt took place in the quick tattoo which Mr.
Sweetwater's papers rattled; it was the only sound to be heard in that moment of silence. Then "What do you mean by those words?" inquired Mr. Brotherson, with studied composure. "I have said that I had no interview with Miss Challoner. Why do you ask me then, if I saw her?" "Because I believe that you did. From a distance possibly, but yet directly and with no possibility of mistake."
To-day, the road is as blind as ever, but " here Sweetwater's face sharpened and his eyes burned as he leaned closer and closer to the older detective "but this second case, so unlike the first in non-essentials but so exactly like it in just those points which make the mystery, has dropped a thread from its tangled skein into my hand, which may yet lead us to the heart of both.
I can give you my hand though, Inspector, and Sweetwater's thanks. I can meet the boy now. An hour ago I didn't know how I was to do it." "How many times has he seen you?" "Twice." "So that he knows your face and figure?" "I'm afraid so. He cannot help remembering the man who faced him in his own room." "That's unfortunate."
But he deceived himself in this. The two men spoke in such low whispers that only their intensity was manifest. Not a word came to Sweetwater's ears. "Bah!" he thought again, "this is bad." But he had to swallow his disappointment, and more.
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