Tarry a little—there is something else.—Merchant of Venice.
GOUVERNEUR HILDRETH was discharged and Craik Mansell committed to prison to await his trial.
Horace Byrd, who no longer had any motive for remaining in Sibley, had completed all his preparations to return to New York. His valise was packed, his adieus made, and nothing was left for him to do but to step around to the station, when he bethought him of a certain question he had not put to Hickory.
Seeking him out, he propounded it.
"Hickory," said he, "have you ever discovered in the course of your inquiries where Miss Dare was on the morning of the murder?"
The stalwart detective, who was in a very contented frame of mind, answered up with great cheeriness:
"Haven't I, though! It was one of the very first things I made sure of. She was at Professor Darling's house on Summer Avenue."
"At Professor Darling's house?" Mr. Byrd felt a sensation of dismay. Professor Darling's house was, as you remember, in almost direct communication with Mrs. Clemmens' cottage by means of a path through the woods. As Mr. Byrd recalled his first experience in threading those woods, and remembered with what suddenness he had emerged from them only to find himself in full view of the West Side and Professor Darling's spacious villa, he stared uneasily at his colleague and said:
"It is train time, Hickory, but I cannot help that. Before I leave this town I must know just what she was doing on that morning, and whom she was with. Can you find out?"
"Can I find out?"