"Why—the—the"—stammered her visitor somewhat abashed, "the body—the corpse, you know! Have come to measure it. Painful, I know; but business is business, if it's only coffin business; and I can't possibly do a neat job without I get a good measure. Something like the tailoring trade, you see!"
"Body?—corpse?—come to measure it? Oh, I shall go wild, I shall go wild," persisted the woman, half frantic at the intimation which came to her that a corpse was not only in her place, but in the very room where she slept, and that this fiend who was pursuing her—this Nemesis, who struck her pride, her ambition, her desires, her very life, at every move she made, had actually sent an undertaker there to measure the dead body.
It is hard to tell what would have happened if the good sense of the undertaker had not come to the relief of the situation; and, hastily answering her that there had probably been some mistake, that the order was probably meant for the next block, and offering other similar excuses while hastily apologizing for the intrusion, Mr. Boxem very sensibly went back to his business and his coffins, five dollars ahead until more promising inquiries should bring to light the friend of the alleged dead, and the owner of the money, who, fortunately for Mr. Boxem, has not appeared to this day.
CHAPTER XXIV
Breaking up.—Doubts and Queries.—Suspected Developments.—The Detectives completely outwitted.—On the Trail again.—From Rochester to St. Louis.—A prophetic Hotel Clerk.—More Detectives and more Need for them.—Lightning Changes.
BRISTOL and Fox happened around in time to participate in the general excitement which the undertaker's visit had awakened, and after getting as full particulars as possible from the people below, who refused to believe that some dark deed had not been committed upstairs, they proceeded to the rooms, where they found the door to Mrs. Winslow's private apartment closed, and the two, finding no opportunity to converse with their landlady, shortly went out for supper.
On their return they found Mrs. Winslow in a remarkably pleasant frame of mind, and quite full of jokes about the order for a coffin—so much so, in fact, that my operatives were quite surprised at the change from her previous demeanor under similar circumstances. Altogether they passed one of the pleasantest evenings since they became the woman's tenants. Several ladies that lived in the same building were invited in, refreshments of wines and some rare fruits out of season were served, singing, card-playing, and piano-playing with some waltzing were indulged in, and it was noticed by the two men that Mrs. Winslow was almost hysterically happy, as if she had decided upon some exceedingly brilliant and satisfactory plan, the execution of which was being preluded in this way.
At the close of the evening she casually announced that the next time she had any company she hoped to show them a better place.
Somebody at once inquired if she was going away, whereupon she gayly replied that instead of going away she was going to make better arrangements for staying. She had intended all along, she said, tidying up the place, but had been so lazy that she had kept neglecting it until it was really too bad, and now she had decided to begin tearing up things to-morrow.