"Know him, Miss Copley?"
"I've spoken to him once or twice. Casually."
"How did that happen? Where did you meet him?"
"In a grocery store in the town. He came in for something while I was there. Of course he knew who I was, and he started talking to me about the strike and how hard it was on the men."
"Um. What sort of a chap is he? Capable of—murder?"
"Good gracious, I don't think so!" Miss Ocky straightened in her chair and shot a quick glance at the detective. "He's the agitator type—more bark than bite. I don't believe he'd have the courage to kill a man. Is—is he suspected?"
"I can't tell you. We may know more about that after the inquest—unless Norvallis gets it adjourned, which he may. I don't think he'll want to show his hand so soon."
"This will be a spicy bit of gossip for Janet," mused Miss Ocky half to herself, then caught Creighton's raised eyebrow and explained her remark. "Janet Mackay is my maid, and she used to know Maxon in Scotland when he was a youngster."
"Um. Have they seen anything of each other lately?"
"No. Janet has no use for him. She says he was always getting into trouble as a boy."