“Yes, sir. Parents and sisters. Oh, it’s a sorry thing for them.”
“It is so,” and then Wise let his perceiving eyes roam over the kitchen.
“Have you searched the floor well for anything that may have been dropped?” he asked.
“Oh, yes,” the sheriff answered. “That’s all been done, Mr Wise. We’re plain country folks here, but we know a thing or two.”
“I’m sure of that,” Wise assented. “Did you look under the dresser and beneath that corner cupboard?”
“Well, no; we didn’t think it necessary to go so far as that.”
“Probably not; most likely not. Yet, I wish, Hannah, you’d get a broom and just run it under there.”
“I’ll do it,” volunteered Kelly, who had come to the kitchen.
He brought a broom, and brushing under the two dressers, brought out some dust, some threads and shreds and two yellow beads.
“Martha’s?” asked Wise, quietly, picking up the beads.