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Updated: July 21, 2025
Breakfast would be Claude's last meal at home. At eleven o'clock his father and Ralph would take him to Frankfort to catch the train. She was longer than usual in dressing. When she got downstairs Claude and Mahailey were already talking. He was shaving in the washroom, and Mahailey stood watching him, a side of bacon in her hand.
"Why not!" he interrupted, contradicting me. "We had our backs to the door while we were talking with Werner." "Well, anyhow, it narrows down to Manton and Werner because that is the washroom for these offices " "'Sh!" Kennedy stopped me as Werner mounted the stairs. He turned to the director with assumed nonchalance. "How long have the other cars been here?" he asked.
I dropped Enid's hand and turned away abruptly. "What do you think of it?" I asked Kennedy, when we were half through our meal at a tiny restaurant on upper Broadway. "We're still fumbling in the dark," he replied. "There's the towel " "Yes, and almost any one on Mackay's list of nine suspects could have placed it in that washroom." "Well " I was determined to draw him out.
Sergeant Flannagan saw Byrne's companion turn and look back just as Flannagan stepped from the doorway to cross the street after them. That was the last Sergeant Flannagan had seen either of Billy Byrne or his companion. The trail had ceased at the open window of the washroom at the rear of the restaurant, and search as he would be had been unable to pick it up again.
It is wonderful, however, considering the twisting and scrambling in the berth and the miscellaneous and ludicrous presentation of humanity in the washroom at the end of the car, how presentable people make themselves in a short space of time.
Beyond, I discovered a washroom, and, aware suddenly of the immense amount of dust I had acquired in the ride in from Tarrytown, I entered to freshen my hands and face at the least. It was a stroke of luck, a fortunate impulse. The amount of money to be made in the movies had resulted, in the case of Manton, in luxurious equipment for all the various departments of his establishment.
Ted worked that day with his teeth set so that his jaws ached next morning. Minnie Wenzel spoke to him only when necessary and then in terms of dollars and cents. When dinner time came she divested herself of the black sateen sleevelets, wriggled from the shoulders down a la Patricia O'Brien, produced a chamois skin, and disappeared in the direction of the washroom.
One morning, when the boys were in the washroom, under the charge of the senior teacher, Charlie, with what precise provocation I could never ascertain, drew back his basin of water and threw it full into the teacher's face. Here was a case. We were about to have an explosion. Evidently the young fire-eater's blood was up.
"I thought we came pretty fast." Werner smiled. "I guess those boys had enough of Tarrytown. They rolled into the yard, both of them, while you and Mr. Jameson and Manton were stopping to watch the people in the water." "I see!" Kennedy gave me a side glance. "Where are the dressing rooms?" he inquired. It was a random shot. Werner pointed to the end of the hall, toward the washroom.
"Expecting to be followed, I had taken that instant precaution of impressing on the purser's mind that I was a Frenchman. I passed into the washroom, just opposite where the purser sat, washed myself and brushed my hair. Just at this moment I heard steps descending the cabin stairway, then the words: "'Purser, a cab just brought a man from the Dublin train. Where is he?
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