A parlor-maid appeared, and Avice asked her to send the butler to them.
“Won’t he bolt?” asked Groot, fearing to lose his quarry at the last moment.
“Why should he?” said Avice, “any more than yesterday? He doesn’t know he’s suspected, does he?”
“Oh, no, he couldn’t know it.”
“Then he’ll be here in a minute.”
While waiting, Groot told them, in low tones, about Stryker’s insurance matter.
“Time up next week!” repeated Judge Hoyt. “That looks bad, very bad. I’ve heard Stryker speak of insuring, several times, but I thought nothing about it. He wasn’t asking my advice, merely discussing it as a business proposition. When I’ve been here of an evening with Mr. Trowbridge, we often spoke with Stryker almost as to a friend. He’s an old and trusted servant. I’m desperately sorry to learn all this.”
“So am I,” said Avice. “I do want to track down uncle’s murderer,—but I don’t want it to be Stryker!”
The parlor-maid returned. “Miss Avice,” she said, “Stryker isn’t in the house.”
“Isn’t?” cried Groot, starting up; “where is he?”