During the interview between the detective and Elijah Stebbins, she said almost nothing, her big eyes staring at the owner of Black Aspens, until the old man writhed in discomfort.
“How did you get in?” she shot at him, as he frankly admitted his harmless tricks to give his tenants their desired interest in his house.
“I was in, miss,” Stebbins said, nervously twisting his fingers; “I staid there the first night, and ’twas then I moved the old candlestick.”
“I don’t mean that,” and Zizi’s eyes seemed to bore through to his very brain, “I mean the night you played ghost.”
“Why,—I—that is,—they left a window open——”
“They did not!” Zizi shot at him, “and you know it! How did you get in?”
But old Stebbins persisted in his story of entrance by an overlooked window.
“There’s heaps of windows in that house,” he declared. “Land, I could get in any time I wanted to.”
“Sure you could,” retorted Zizi, “but not through a window!”
“How, then?” said Stebbins.