Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1895-11-13

swer below there that I didn't find much
chance to ask any,"
Il will see to it," replied the doctor, land
bring word to you when the young ladies
60 home"
1t could hardly be said that the dinner at
the doctors house passed anjoyably. Both
young ladies were sadly depressed, and the
doctor could not shake dark thoughts from
his mind. In conversation afterward Louise
said:
Papa must have been mistaken some
how. / cannot pretend to understand II,
but Mr. Starkweather must have commit
ted suicide, perhaps in papa's presence, and
the shock may have unnerved him to such
a degree that he imagined what ne told
YOU"
Dr. Williams grasped eagerly at this
suggestion and tried to fit all the known
events in harmony with it,
IF only 1 knew what Betsey sawv he
thought again.
His inquiries concerning the servant ellie
tied the information that she had run on to
the railway station half a mile or so be-
yond and boarded the first train that came
along without buying ticket.
Toward evening, DIR. Williams accom-
panied the young ladies to Fairview. They
preferred to walk, they said and he felt
that it was just as well that they should.
They came in sight Of Fairvfew when
about a quarter of a mile distant. Their
eyes turned toward 1t naturally, and pres
emily they saw the professor appear at
| the front door in his shirt sleeves. He went
rived he was at the top of the steps, dress
ed as usual to meet them.
Il am still further Obliged to you. doctor"
he said composedly. What has taken
place is an event that in one form or an
other confronts us all from time to time.
think my daughter and my niece will not
suffer from it, but you might look In to-
morrow, IL you like"
Il will certainly do So responded DR..
Williams, interpreting these remarks
polite dismissal. He therefore babe them
all coed evening and returned home.
Now, II you've no objection, girls" said
the professor when the doctor had gone.
you may get me some supper"
This they did, and after the meal Prof.
Drummond modified his ordinary evening
procedure to the extent Of sitting with
them until bed time. He talked freely,
frankly declining to discuss Starkweath-
er's death and its attendant mysteries,
upon general topics. The conversation par
took largely of the character of a lecture,
for the young ladies had little heart for
talk, but 1t served to make them the more
willing to retire when the time came. Then
he dismissed them with a few sensible
words upon the commonplace though SAD
nature of death. and advised them to think
nothing of the tragical aspects of the event
that had shocked them ALL
IF you are wakeful," he said, you must
let me know, for 1 cannot have you lose
sleep. 1 shall be busy in the shop for some
time, two or three hours, perhaps
Louise and Amelia went upstairs and
went to bed together. About an hour later
the professor emerged noiselessly from his
shop and cautiously made his way to the
chamber they occupied. He gently opened
the door and looked in. They were sleep
ing soundly. ing closed the door again
he returned below stairs and set lamp on
the fioor near the spot where Starkweather
had fallen dead.
Then he went into his shop and returned
with large chisel With this he knelt and
presently pried up board. He laid It
carefully aside and took up another. Hold
h. h.
he looked in for moment Then he set
the lamp down again, took a pair of pin
GERS from his pocket, reached far under the
floor and cut something. He drew it out,
and laid 1t beside the boards.
After time he returned to the shop and
brought out other boards, which he laid
in the place of those he had taken up.
When he had finished his work, there was
not the slightest mark upon the floor to in
| dicate that anything had been done there.
Go be continued tomorrow