Omaha daily bee., 1899-02-19
rHAPTER III

As they re-entered the larger room they
were astonished 70 come upon Miss PAGE
standing in the doorway. she was gazing at
the recum5ent figure OF the dead woman
and for a moment seemed unconscious Of
their presence.
How did you get in Which Of ny men
was weak enough 10 let you pass. against
my express Instructions asked the con-
stable, who was Of an irritable and sus-
picious nature.
She let the hood drop from her head. and.
turning. surveyed him with a slow smile.
There was witchery in that mile sufficient
TO affect a much more cultivated and carlous
nature than his, and though he had been
proof against it once be could not quite
resist the effect Of its repetition.
i insisted upon entering, said she. do
not blame the men; they did not want TO use
force against a woman She had not a good
voice and she knew it; but she covered up
this defect by a choice Of intonations that
carried her lightest speech to the heart.
Hard-visaged Amos Fenton gave a grunt,
which was as near an expression Of approval
as he ever gave to any one.
Well, WELT he g~rowied. but not i'll
naturedly, Its a morbid curiosity that
brings you here. Better drop it, girl; it
won't DO you any good in the eyes of sensi-
| be people
Thank you was her demure reply. her
lips dimpling al the corners in a way to
shock the sensitive Mr.. Sutherland.
Glancing from her to the still outlines Of
the noble figure on the couch, he re-
marked with an air of mild reproof;
Il do not understand you, Miss Page. II
this solemn sight has no power 10 stop your
coquetries, nothing can. As for your
curiosity, it is both ill-timed and IN
womanly. Let me see you leave this house
at once, Miss Page; and il in the few hours
which must elapse before breakfast you
can find time TO pack your trunks, you Wiz
still further oblige me-
"Oh, don't send me away, I entreat you"
1t was a cry from her inner heart, which
she probably regretted, for she instantly
sought 70 cover up the anxiety it showed by
a submissive bend Of the head and a step
backward. Neither Mr.. Fenton nor Mr..
the other, their attention having returned
TO the more serious matter in hand.
The dress which our poor friend wears
shows her to have been struck before re-
firing commented Mr.. Sutherland, after
another short survey of Mrs. Webb's figure.
IF Philemon
Excuse me. sir" interrupted a voice,
but the young woman is listening TO what
you say. She is still in the hall" It was
the young man speaking, who had been left
in the hall.
she Is. is She" exclaimed Fenton.
sharply. his admiration for the fascinating
stranger having oozed out at his compan-
ions rebuff. i will soon show her" But
the words melted into thin air as he reached
the door. The young girl had disappeared,
and only a faint perfume remained in the
place where she had stood.
"A most extraordinary person grumbled
the constable, turning back. but stopping
again as a faint murmur came up from
below.
The gentleman is waking" called up a
voice whose lack OF music was quite per-
cepti5le al a distance.
With a bound Nj. Fenton descended the
stairs, followed by Mr.. Sutherland.
Miss Page stood before the door OF the
room in which sat Philemon Webb. AS they
reached her side she made a little bow that
was half nocking, half deprecatory. and
slipped from the house. An almost IN
bearable sensation Of incongruity vanished
with her. and Mr.. Sutherland, for one,
breathed like a man relieved.
Il wish the doctor would come" Fenton
said. as they watched the slow lifting OF
Philemon Webs head. Our fastest rider
has gone for him, but he's out Portchester
way, and it may be an hour yet before he
can get here"
Philemon"
Mr.. Sutherland had advanced and was
standing by his old friends side.
Philemon, what has become OF your
guests? You've waited for them here till
morning"
The old man with a dazed look surveyed
the two plates set On either side OF him and
shook his head
James and John are getting proud, said
he, "or they forget, they forget"
James and John. He must mean the
labels. yet there were many Others answer
ing TO these names in OWL. Mr.. Sutherland
made another effort.
philemon. where is your wife? I do not
see any place set here for her,
"Agatha's sick. AEatha's cross; she don't
care for poor old man like ne"
"Agatha's dead.and you know It," tbun-
dered back the constable with in-judged
severity. Who killed her? Tell me that
Who killed hero
A sudden quenching OF the last spark Of
intelligence in the old mans eye was the
dreadful effect Of these words, Laughing
with that strange gurgle which proclains an
utterly irresponsible mind. he cried:
The pussy cat, II was the pussy cat.
Whot's killed? I'm not killed. Let's go TO
Jericho"
Mr.. Sutherland took him by the arm and
led him upstairs. Perhaps The sight Of his
dead wife would restore him. But he looked
at her with the same Indifference he showed
70 everything else,
I don't like her calico dresses" said he.
She might have worn silk, but she wouldnt I.
Agatha, viii you wear silk TO my funeral2'
The experiment was too painful and they
drew him away. But the constable's curl
osity had been reused and after they had
found some one TO take care Of him ne drew
Mr.. Sutherland aside and said:
What did the old man mean by saying
she might have worn silk? Are they better
on than they SEEM
Mr.. Sutherland closed the door before re-
plying.
They are rich, he declared, 10 the utter
amazemeut OF the other. That is. they
were, but they may have been robbed; il so.
Philemon was not the wretch who killed
her. ! have been told that she kept her
money in an old-fashioned cupboard. Do
you suppose they alluded 10 that oneg"
He pointed 10 a door set in the wall over
the fire place, and Mr.. Fenton. perceiying a
key sticking in the lock, stepped quickly
across the floor and opened il. A row Of
books met his eyes, but on taking them down
a couple Of drawers were seen al their
back.
a., ~ IL 1rs - IL