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"It ought to! if there is anybody." Nothing, however, was heard by the police or by ourselves for the next three or four days; and then I think it was the fourth day after the inquest I looked up from my desk in Mr. Lindsey's outer office one afternoon to see Maisie Dunlop coming in at the door, followed by an elderly woman, poorly but respectably dressed, a stranger.
"I've had my supper at Mr. Lindsey's, mother," I said, as I dragged my bicycle out of the back-place. "I've just got to go out, whether I will or no, and I don't know when I'll be in, either do you think I can sleep in my bed when I don't know where Maisie is?" "You'll not do much good, Hugh, where the police have failed," she answered.
They soon outran Gwen, and were glad to rest. "Did you ever hear such horrid stories?" Polly asked. "Never!" cried Rose, "unless it was other stories that she told at other times. There's the one that she made us listen to when we were over to Lena Lindsey's one day. The one about the ghost that rode down the main street every night at twelve." "Oh, I remember," said Polly.
Go back, however, he did; and before midnight we were in our own town again, and passing the deserted streets towards Mr. Lindsey's home, I going with the others because Mr. Lindsey insisted that it was now too late for me to go home, and I should be nearer the station if I slept at his place.
And from cursing him, I fell to cursing myself, that I hadn't told at once of my seeing him at those crossroads on the night I went the errand for Gilverthwaite. It had been late when Smeaton and I had got to Mr. Lindsey's, and the night was now fallen on the town a black, sultry night, with great clouds overhead that threatened a thunderstorm.
Lindsey, solicitor, of Berwick, was a very promising young man of great ability, and had recently been much before the public eye as a witness in connection with the mysterious murders of John Phillips and Abel Crone, which are still attracting so much attention." I shoved the newspaper into Mr. Lindsey's hand as he came out of the telegraph office.
There was some discussion. I paid little attention to it, being considerably amazed at the sudden turn which things had taken, and astonished altogether by Mr. Lindsey's production of the ice-ax. But the discussion ended in Mr.
Extract from Judge Ben Lindsey's picture of the Salvation Army at the Front: "A good expression for American enthusiasm is: 'I am crazy about' this, or that, or the other thing that excites our admiration. Well, 'I am crazy about the Salvation Army' the Salvation Army as I saw it and mingled with it and the doughboys in the trenches.
There followed much talk between the officers and Lindsey's mistress, with the soldiers finally going into encampment a short distance away from the plantation. The soldiers took command of the spring that was used for a water supply for the plantation, giving Lindsey another opportunity to make money.
Lindsey down and he'll tell us all that should be done." I left Maisie and Tom Dunlop keeping my mother company and made haste to Mr. Lindsey's house, and after a little trouble roused him out of his bed and got him down to me.
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