Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1904-05-04

ts.tt...s't. !
CHAPTER VIII.
W EFT me repeat. The person who
M had left the marks of his pres
IA a ence in the upper chamber of
the Moore house was not the
man popularity known as Uncle David.
Who, then, had 1t been? But one name
suggested itself to me-Mr Jeffrey.
1t was not SO easy for me TO reach
this man rs 1t had been for me to
reach his singular and unimagi natiye
uncle. In the first place, his door had
been closed to every one since his
wife's death. Neither friends nor
strangers could gain admittance there
unless they came vested with authori-
ty from the coroner. And this, even il
/ could manage to obtain it, would not
answer in my case. What had to say
and do would better follow chance
encounter But no chance encounter
with this gentleman seemed likely TO
fall to my lot. and finally swallowed
my pride and asked another favor of
the lieutenant Would he see that
was given an opportunity for carrying
some message or of doing some GRAND
which would lead to my having an in
terview with Mr.. Jeffrey? If he would
stood ready to promise that my Curl
osity should stop at this point and that
would cease to make nuisance Of
myself
4 think he suspected me by this time
but he made no remark, and in a day
or so was summoned to carry note
to the house in X street.
Mrs. Jeffrey's funeral had taken
place the day before, and the house
looked deserted But my summons
/ speedily brought to the door neat
looking but very nervous maid, whose
eyes took on an unmistakable express
sion Of resistance when / announced
my errand and asked to see Mr.. JEFF
| frey. The expression would not have
struck me as peculiar If she had raised
any objection to the interview had
solicited. But she did not. Her fear
and antipathy consequently sprang'
/ from some other source than her In
| terest in the man most threatened by
my visit. Was it, could it be, on her
own account! Recalling what I had
heard whispered about the station con-
corning maid of the Jeffreys who al
ways seemed on the point Of saying.
something which never really left her
| lips, stopped her as she was about to
slip upstairs and quietly asked:
Are you Loretta?''
The way she turned, the way she
| looked at me, as she gave me short
affirmative and then quickly proceed
ed on her way, convinced me that my
colleagues were right as to her being
woman who had some cause for dread
ing police interference. l instantly
made up my mind that here was
mine to be worked and that I knew
just the demure little soul best equip
ped to act the part of miner.
In moment she came back, and l
had q chance to note again her pretty
but expressionless features, among
which the restless eyes alone bespoke
character or decision.
mfr. Jeffrey is in the back room
upstairs" she announced. "He says
for you to come up"
us it the room Mrs. jeffrey used to
occupy?" ! asked, with open curiosity,
as passed her.
An involuntary shudder proved that
she was not without feeling. So did
the quick disclaimer:
"No, no! Those rooms are closed.
He occupies the one Miss futile had
before she went away
''Oh, then, Miss Tuttle Is gomez"
Loretta disdained to answer. She
had already said enough to cause her
to bite her lip as she disappeared down
the basement stair. Decidedly the boys
were right. An uneasy feeling followed
any conversation with this girl. Yet,
while there was slyness in her man.
ner. there was a certain frank honesty
visible in it, too, which caused me to
think that If she could ever be made to
speak her evidence could be relied on.
Mr. Jeffrey was sitting with his
back to the door when l entered, but
turned as spoke his name and held
out his hand for the note carried. He
appeared to shrink from observation
and shifted uneasily as long as / stood
In front Of him. though he said nothing
and did not lift his eyes from the letter
he was perusing till he heard me step
back to the door l had purposely left
open and softly closed it. Then he
glanced up with a keen II not an
alarmed look, which seemed an exag- |
gerated one for the occasion-that is,
if he had no secret to keep.
do you suffer so from drafts?" he
asked, rising in way which in itself
was a dismissal.
smiled an amused denial, then,
with the simple directness thought
most likely to win me his confidence,
entered straight upon my business In
these plain words:
Pardon me, Mr. Jeffrey, l have
to say which is not exactly
fitted for the ears of servants" Then
as he pushed his chair suddenly back
l added reassuringly: st is not po-
lice matter, sir. but an entirely per
sonal one. 1t may strike you as i'm
portant, and 1t may not. Mr.. Jeffrey,
| was the man who made the unhappy
discovery in the Moore mansion which