"By the way, speaking of the old murder, there is something that has never been published, but which some of the old codgers about here have cherished as perhaps relating to it."
"What is it?" asked the doctor.
"Well, a couple of old men who have since died, both milkmen, used to say that once or twice they had seen a woman near the scene of the murder at that hour in the morning. Also, that she always ran into the woods, and was dressed in black."
"Who were those old men?"
"Well, they were both reliable fellows. Their tales were laughed at, so they refused to discuss the matter any more. They both claimed to have seen her at a distance, however; and since they were on different wagons, their stories seemed to corroborate each other."
We expressed our great interest in the news, and Dowd advised us to see Reilly the porter, who had heard the story of the woman from the men themselves.
We returned to the hotel, feeling much elated at the courtesy of Dowd and at the prospect of learning something not generally known, and bearing upon the murder.
Soon we managed to find Reilly. He came to our rooms on the excuse that we had some orders to give concerning baggage that had not yet arrived from New York.
The porter was decidedly intelligent, having been reduced to his present position through adversity, as we already knew. It took only a little questioning to elicit his story, which he told about as follows:
"You see, gentlemen, about the time of Smith's murder the milkmen were in the habit of watering their horses at an old fountain just by our curb, but since done away with.