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Updated: July 6, 2025
The coroner, with a quick glance from the slipper in his hand up to Sweetwater's eager face, showed a decided disposition to make the experiment thus suggested. But Mr. Fenton, whose mind was full of the Zabel tragedy, interrupted them with the question: "But how do you explain by this hypothesis the fact of James Zabel trying to pass one of the twenty-dollar bills stolen from Mrs.
"I guess I know enough for that," was Sweetwater's gay rejoinder. But when he felt that communicating wire in his hand and experienced for the first time the full influence of the other's eye, it took all his hardihood to hide the hypnotic thrill it gave him.
"Our party's used to that," Blake answered with a smile. "I suggest another plan. You have brought us a long way, and Sweetwater's a bit off your line. Suppose you give us food enough to last us on half rations and let us push on." "No, sir!" said Lane decidedly. "We see this trip through together.
But she had loved only one, and that one, Oswald. It not difficult to recognise the object of this high hearted woman's affections in this man whose struggle with the master-destroyer had awakened the solicitude of a whole town. Ten minutes after Sweetwater's arrival in the village streets, he was at home with the people he found there.
The book which had hid this hole on Brotherson's side had been taken down the one book in all those hundreds whose removal threatened Sweetwater's schemes, if not himself. For an instant the thwarted detective listened for the angry shout or the smothered oath which would naturally follow the discovery by Brotherson of this attempted interference with his privacy.
It is as much of a surprise to me as it is to you." He lied. Mr. Sutherland knew that he lied and Frederick knew that he knew it. A shadow fell between them, which the older, with that unspeakable fear upon him roused by Sweetwater's whispered suspicions, dared no longer attempt to lift. After a few minutes in which Frederick seemed to see his father age before his eyes, Mr.
Cumberland, his sick sister, and the nurse." "Mr. Cumberland! Didn't he go to the grave?" "Did you expect him to, after that?" Sweetwater's shoulders rose, and his voice took on a tone of indifference. "There's no telling. Where is he now, do you think? Upstairs?" "Yes. It seems he spends all his time in a little alcove opposite his sister's door.
We do not even know that she has made a will." "I ask," pursued Mr. Sutherland, with a slight glance toward Frederick, who seemed, at least in Sweetwater's judgment, to have braced himself up to bear this interview unmoved, "because I have not only received intimation that she made such a will, but have even been entrusted with a copy of it as chief executor of the same.
For Justice, when triumphant, will weep down Pity, not punishment, on her own wrongs, Too much avenged by those who err. I wait, Enduring thus, the retributive hour Which since we spake is even nearer now. Prometheus Unbound. The moment I felt Sweetwater's hand lifted from my shoulder I sprang into the first hack I could find, and bade the driver follow the Cumberland sleigh post-haste.
"The outlay? I am thinking of the outlay." "Mr. Challoner will see to that. I have his word that no reasonable amount will daunt him." "But this Brotherson is suspicious. He has an inventor's secret to hide, if none other. We can't saddle him with a guy of Sweetwater's appearance and abnormal loquaciousness." "Not readily, I own. But time will bring counsel.
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