"Why, what makes you think so?" I asked.
"I saw the body at the undertaker's in Lorona, gentlemen, and the marks on the neck were not only scratches, but black and blue patches. The examiner was a drunkard himself and not a good reasoner. I always had the idea that the milkman was choked to death by the woman because he had seen her.
"And the other fellow, Moses—I think he was done away with likewise," continued Reilly. "I tell you, gentlemen, there is more to all this than is perhaps wise to know, unless one keeps pretty quiet."
We tipped Reilly a good fee and then turned in for the night in a most uncomfortable frame of mind. As Moore said: "things are coming up so rapidly here that we will all be twisted before long."
Our visit to the town had so far proved more valuable than we had hoped for, and we both wished that Oakes could have been with us. Several times in the night I awoke, and each time heard footsteps passing to and fro, and subdued voices in the corridor downstairs, and could but reflect how very different this was from the usual quietude of such a place.
When we arose in the morning, Moore remarked that he never knew of such a noisy hotel in a small town.
"Guess the place is going to give me nervous prostration pretty soon, if things keep up like this," said he.
While we were at breakfast, Chief Hallen walked in and sat down beside us in a rather pompous manner, I thought. He seemed desirous of calling attention to himself. "Well, gentlemen," he said in a quiet enough way, "don't be taken aback at anything you may witness to-day. You may have a surprise. I want you to meet me in the hotel corridor soon and see who comes on the nine o'clock train."
He bade us adieu, and walked out in an unnaturally aggressive manner.
"He's showing off like a schoolboy," said I.