"Not now. I wouldn't have been of this Stumpy only he came on me so suddenly. I'll go at once."
"You'd better," said a voice behind her. "Your five minutes is up, Miss Kate." And Booth appeared at the head of the stairs and motioned her down.
"Good-by, Roger. I'm so sorry to leave you here alone."
"It's not such a dreadful place," I rejoined lightly. "If you discover anything, let me know at once."
"Be sure I will." And with this assurance Kate was gone.
I was as sorry for her as I was for myself. I knew all she would have to face in public—the mean things people would say to her, the snubbing she would be called on to bear.
The loss of the statement rendered me doubly downhearted. Oh, how much I had counted on it, assuring myself over and over again that it would surely clear my father's name!
Hardly had my sister left me than there were more voices below, and I heard Mr. Woodward tell Booth that he had an order from Judge Penfold for a private interview with me.
"Better go right upstairs then, Mr. Woodward," was the jailer's reply. "He's all alone."
I wondered what the merchant's visit could portend, but had little time for speculation.