"Yes?"
"About Mabel Tutworthy. Did she really drag that buck ten miles."
"No. It was only a fawn. And she killed it less than a mile from her cabin."
"And the murder of Henry Reamer. What proof—?"
"Nothing the police would be interested in. It was the end-result of a cause they won't understand until my work is published and given study."
He opened the door, looked around, smiled. "This is certainly a fine old building. I must bring Nicholas with me the next time."
With that, he was gone.
I found myself looking forward to his next visit. I looked and looked and a month passed and a tall, serious-faced youth came into the library and waited until I'd finished checking in Mrs. Garvey's returns.
"I understand," he said, "that you have an immense store of local history in this library?"