Continued harsh words from the Chief, however, made her at last tell a straight and coherent story, but it threw no light on the mysterious caller. In fact, Jenny knew nothing whatever of him, save that she saw or thought she saw him run downstairs, with a pistol in his hand.
“What sort of hat did the man wear?” asked the Chief, to get some sort of description.
“I don’t know,—a soft hat, I guess.”
“Not a Derby?”
“Oh, yes! I do believe it was a Derby! And he had on an overcoat——”
“A dark one?”
“No,—sort of—oh, I guess it wasn’t an overcoat,—but a, you know, Norfolk jacket, like.”
“A Norfolk, and no overcoat on a day like yesterday! I don’t believe you saw any man at all, Jenny!”
“Do you know, that’s what I think sometimes, Mr. Chief! It almost seems’s if I dreamed it.”
“What do you mean! Don’t you dare guy me, miss!”