He approached the window, the blinds of which were closed, and peered through the slats. A light had been lit, and the policeman and the stranger had just entered the room.
"I don't think you'll find much to interest you," said the officer.
"All of the others have hunted around, and they didn't find much."
The stranger walked around the apartment slowly, and then sank into an armchair.
"Sit down and have a smoke with me," he said, pulling out his cigar case. "You've got a long night before you."
"I am not going to stay up all night. The women folks and me are going to take turns. They should have sent another man here, but the Chief couldn't spare him, two of the men being sick."
Cigars were lit, and the pair smoked away for several minutes, talking of the case in all of its details. Evidently the stranger agreed with the general public regarding Margaret Langmore's guilt.
"Of course she'll put on a good front," said he, blowing a ring of smoke into the air. "She's that sort—so I've heard. What does her stepbrother say about it?"
"Not much, now. At first he didn't think her guilty, but after he talked with me and the women folks, he changed his mind, I reckon. It's a blow to him, for he thought a good deal of the old lady."
"Mr. Sudley!" came a call from the hallway. "Mr. Sudley, where are you?"
It was one of the women who was calling, and, laying down his cigar, the policeman left the library to see what she wanted.