“Come, we are wasting time. This house must be searched again and searched thoroughly. I don’t believe you have half done it. Lead the way, Kearney, we’ll begin on the next floor.”
As they went out Sadie Burton timidly approached Whitney Barnes, who was still making the rounds of every policeman in the house and pleading to be unlocked.
“How do you do––what is the matter?” she said timidly, looking up into Barnes’s distressed face.
“I don’t do at all,” replied Barnes, tragically, folding his arms in an effort to conceal the handcuffs.
“Why, you seem to have a chill,” Sadie sympathized, with real concern in her voice.
“I should say I have,” gasped Barnes, “a most awful chill. But it may pass off. Excuse me, here’s a new policeman I haven’t asked yet.” The young man crossed the room to Phelan.
“Have you got a key to these infernal shackles?” he asked, while Sadie looked wonderingly after him.
“I’ve got a key to nothin’,” growled Phelan. “Don’t talk to me––I’d like to kill some of yez.”
Barnes retreated, backing into Mrs. Burton, who turned and seized him.