“Of course you may come here, whenever you like, but I hold out no hope of the sort you ask for.”
“I shall hope all the same. I’d die if I didn’t! Good-bye, Maida, for this time.”
He went away to the train, and later, came Keefe and Genevieve Lane.
“Oh,” the girl cried, “I’m so glad to be back here again, Maida. My, but you’re prettier than ever! If you’d only touch up those pale cheeks—just a little bit—here, let me——”
She opened her ever-ready vanity box, and was about to apply a touch of rouge, but Maida sprang away from her.
“Silly girl! You don’t deserve the beauty nature gave you, if you’re not willing to help it along a little yourself! How do you do, Mrs. Wheeler and Mr. Wheeler?”
She greeted them prettily, and Keefe, too, exchanged greetings with the family.
“Anything being done?” he asked, finally. “Has Mr. Stone discovered anything of importance?”
“Nothing very definite, I fear,” returned Daniel Wheeler. He spoke wearily, and almost despairingly. Anxiety and worry had aged him, even in the last few days. “I do hope, Keefe, that you can be of assistance. You have a keen eye for details, and may know or remember some points that escaped our notice.”
“I’m hoping I can help,” Keefe returned with a serious face. “Can I see Stone shortly?”
“Yes, now. Come along into the den, he’s in here.”
The two men went to the den, where Stone and Fibsy were in deep consultation.
“Very glad to see you, Mr. Keefe,” Fleming Stone acknowledged the introduction. “This is McGuire, my young assistant. You may speak frankly before him.”
“If I have anything to speak,” said Keefe. “I don’t really know anything I haven’t told, but I may remind Mr. Wheeler of some points he has forgotten.”
“Well, let’s talk it all over,” Stone suggested, and they did.
Keefe was greatly surprised and impressed by the story of the cook’s having seen a man on the south veranda at the time of the shooting.
“But she didn’t see him clearly,” Fibsy added.
“No; she didn’t see him plain enough. But the maid, Rachel, told cook that she saw the man, too, and that he carried a bugle. Cook didn’t see the bugle.”
“Naturally not, if she only saw the man vaguely,” said Wheeler. “But, it begins to look as if there must have been a man there and if so, he may have been the criminal.”