"And we'll have good times when he's gone, ain't that so, Caddie?" said one of the domestics.
"That we will," was the answer. "Better times than now, anyway, when you can't tell when he is coming in and when he is going out. It is a queer way he has with him lately."
"I guess he is worried over his money."
"Why, what do you know about that, Caddie Dix?"
"What do I know, Nellie Casey? Tim Corey told me Mrs. Watkins didn't git a cent of the old grandfather's money, although she said she did, and so did the master say so. It all went to the other part of the family."
"Then where did Mr. Watkins git his money, I'd like to know."
"Don't ask me. Tim says he is flush enough at the club and other places. The government must pay him more than most folks imagine."
"Is Tim goin' to the Rosebud's picnic?"
"Yes, and Dan's goin' too, and Dan wants me to bring you," went on one of the domestics, and then the talk drifted into a channel which was of no further interest to Adam Adams.
He rightfully surmised that John Watkins was not home and was somewhat puzzled to decide what he should do next. It was a long journey from Bryport to Sidham, and it was a question if he could accomplish anything at the scene of the tragedy during the night.