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Updated: June 22, 2025
"Somebody must," urged Mrs. Whitmore. "The girls must leave me more. It isn't as if we were poor and couldn't hire nurses and maids. I should die if it were like that, and I were such a burden." "Mother, <i>dearest!</i>" broke in Margaret feverishly, with an imploring glance toward her sister and the doctor.
"So your brother is in a bad way financially?" said Britz, more in the way of an audible comment than as a question. Evidently the subject was too painful for discussion, for she averted her face as if to hide the emotions written thereon. "Your brother expected Mr. Whitmore to rescue him?" persisted Britz. "Yes," she acknowledged. "And Mr. Whitmore's death leaves him in a sad predicament?"
The Little Doctor could not see anything, just then, but no one noticed anything wrong with her eyes, for they were all down in the Bad Lands, watching an old range cow defend her calf. "Bennett, do the two go together?" asked the senator, at last. "I don't know I painted it for Miss Whitmore," said Chip, a dull glow in his cheeks.
"But the clothing his underwear would have shown where the blood had dried," the coroner declared. "Whitmore attended to that," replied Britz. "The moment he opened the wound he permitted the fresh blood to stain the underwear. You see, with the exception of his overcoat he wore the same clothing he had on when he was shot."
He strolled carelessly out beneath the verandah and stood for a moment by one of its pillars. And at that moment the owl's cry sounded again, but more softly, from the shrubbery on my left. I knew, then, that it came from no true bird. With a swift glance back into the room Mr. Whitmore stepped out upon the gravel and followed the sound, almost brushing the mock-orange bush as he passed.
Colonel Whitmore, crossing to the Wanganui district after the fall of Ngatapa, had set off to deal with Titokowaru. He, however, threw up the game and fled to the interior, where he was wisely left alone, and, except for the fruitless pursuit of Te Kooti, the year 1870 may be marked as the end of warfare in New Zealand.
Moreover, Manning by purely voluntary renunciation, exercised none of the supervision over Britz which his higher rank authorized. So that Britz having been given command of the Whitmore case, was at liberty to proceed with the investigation along his own lines.
Whitmore would have asked, me to do. And now, dear, please don't press me farther. I can't tell you more not at this time. When all this shall have been forgotten, when Mr. Whitmore's death ceases to occupy the public and the police, then I'll tell you everything." When two hearts charged with love begin to exchange confidences, it is impossible to foretell what revelations will be forthcoming.
She was a beauty fine looking and dressed like a queen. In the half-open doorway of the house Mr. Whitmore stood, watching her descend the steps. Both he and she looked as if they'd been quarreling." "Anything more?" Britz asked impatiently. "No, sir," the policeman admitted. "Would you know her again if you saw her?" "I surely would." "Very well.
Collins was preparing to obtain a divorce in order to marry Mr. Whitmore. She had confessed her love for Mr. Whitmore and Collins had intercepted a letter from the merchant in which he urged her to obtain the divorce." "When did Collins intercept the letter?" quickly asked Britz. "On the morning Mr. Whitmore disappeared." Here was something tangible at last.
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