Ingham told her that she certainly ought to have Mrs. Graves arrested and punished severely, and he petted her so nicely that she said he was her best friend, and that she would do anything for him. He prepared a dressing for her black eye, and got some supper for her, telling her that on Monday—that day being Saturday—she ought to get out a warrant for the arrest of Mrs. Graves.
"Why didn't you hit her with the poker?" he asked.
"I did pick it up," she replied, "but I was afraid to hit her for fear I should kill her."
"Well, it would have served her just right, for she had no business to attack you first."
"I know that; but if I had killed her, just think how awful it would be! Why, her ghost would haunt me forever after. I don't want to be haunted. I'm afraid now to go into the room where Trafton died, and I wouldn't go in there alone after dark for fifty dollars."
Ingham comforted her all he could, but finally he said that he must go out for a time, and he did not return until about ten o'clock. He then went upstairs quietly, and went to bed. Two or three hours later, a heavy, groaning sound was heard in the house. It was difficult to tell exactly whence it came, but Ingham heard Mrs. Sanford spring up and open her door. He did the same, and saw her listening at the half-open door. The groans were not exactly like those of a person in distress, but they resembled the efforts of some stage ghost in a blood-and-thunder drama. Suddenly Mrs. Sanford stepped out, with her revolver in her hand, and began to walk toward the hall. He instantly overtook her and asked her, in a whisper, what she was going to do. She made a significant motion with her revolver, and again stopped to listen. He then took the pistol away from her, saying that the noise was probably due to some drunken man who had got into the hall. He told her to go back to bed, and he would investigate. Accordingly, he went into the hall, and soon Mrs. Sanford heard him dragging a maudlin drunken fellow downstairs. This affair had been arranged by me, in the hope of frightening Mrs. Sanford into making some kind of a confession, but she was not so easily alarmed as I had hoped. The door had been left open by Ingham on his return to the house, and another detective had been sent to the top of the stairs to make the groans. From the determined way in which she walked out, with her pistol in readiness, it was evident that she would not have hesitated to shoot the unfortunate ghost on sight.
The next day Ingham showed her a fine gold watch, which he said he had snatched out of a man's pocket in a crowd. She wanted him to steal one for her, and he promised to do so, if possible, though it was more difficult to get a lady's watch. She then advised him to be careful to see that there was no private mark on the watch, lest he should be detected thereby. Then she asked whether the numbers on government bonds were all different. He said that there were different series, which were exactly alike except the letter, and he tried to explain the matter to her, but she could not understand it. She also wanted to know whether the bonds could be sold in a foreign country, and he told her yes; that that was the best way to sell them, if there was anything wrong about them. After some further conversation, she said she thought of going to Canada soon, and perhaps she would like him to take charge of her rooms while she was away.
CHAPTER III.
The Dangerous Side of the Woman's Character.—Mr. Pinkerton makes a new Move.—Robert A. Pinkerton as Adamson, the drunken, but wealthy, Stranger.—A "funny" Game of Cards.—The drunken Stranger has a violent Struggle to escape from Mrs. Sanford, and is afterwards robbed—according to the Papers.—Detective Ingham arrested, but very shortly liberated.
It has already been observed by the reader that, while Ingham had learned nothing new about the fate of poor Trafton, he had obtained a very excellent understanding of Mrs. Sanford's character. Her most prominent characteristic was the love of money, and this passion seemed to overpower all others. Her language and manners at times showed that she had once been a member of good society, while her reading and declamations from Shakespeare and other poets gave evidence of great natural talents. Combined with her greed for money was a strong element of sensuality, and though she usually granted her favors only where she expected a large pecuniary reward, still, at times, she was apparently as prodigal in that regard as if she had no care whatever for money.