“I do not know much about printing,” remarked Abel Force; “but was it not likely that on the Saturday night, when you and your son had gone home, leaving the press and the type just as the last copy of the paper had been taken from it, was it not possible that this man Norton may have distributed the type that had been set up for the report of the agricultural fair which had been struck off, and then set up this fraudulent obituary notice and substituted it for the distributed matter, and then struck off a few more copies of the paper?”
“Yes, sir; and that is just what has been done. But the motive, the motive, that’s what puzzles me,” exclaimed the editor.
“The motive was to spread a false report of Col. Anglesea’s death in America, where he had incurred some personal liabilities,” replied Mr. Force.
John Purdy stared.
“In America—Col. Anglesea—liabilities? I think you must be mistaken, sir.”
“Perhaps.” Mr. Force did not wish to get into a discussion; he wished to get information. “Have you any idea who the man could have been who was in your printing office on that night?” he inquired.
“Not the least in the world, sir, except that it was not Col. Anglesea. You take my word of honor for that.” Mr. Force bowed. He thought the boy’s description of the man who was in the office with the printer that night tallied perfectly with the personal appearance of Anglesea as he had known him, but he did not say so; he shunned disputes, so as to get facts.
“Where was Col. Anglesea at this time?” he inquired.
“Col. the Hon. Angus Anglesea, of Anglewood Manor, was at his home. He was soon after appointed deputy lieutenant of the county,” replied Purdy, with some vicarious dignity.
“Where is he now?”