“But Gifford Bruce never would commit suicide!”
“If only those committed suicide who are expected to do so, there’d be mighty few of them. Now, I hold that poison was taken into Mr. Bruce’s stomach while he was eating that cake, or whatever he did eat.”
“We agree to that,” Landon spoke slowly, “but some of us think the poison was put in by supernatural means.”
“Now, ain’t that nonsense,—for reasonable, rational men!” and Crawford’s fine scorn nettled Landon.
“Professor Hardwick doesn’t think it nonsense,” he returned.
The two were alone, Crawford having asked an interview with the man who had rented the house.
“Professor!” and Crawford fairly snorted. “For fool theories, commend me to a college professor. They can’t see two inches either side of their noses!”
“We have had reason to believe in spiritual manifestations,” went on Braye.
“Yes, and who gave you those reasons? Who rented this house to you folks, for the sole purpose of supplying you with a ha’nted house! Who knew that ghosts must be forthcoming, if you folks was to be satisfied? Who performed ghost doings himself, in order that you might not be disappointed?”
“What are you implying? That Mr.—that the owner tricked us?”