“Then come down to-night, say at half arter ’leven.”
Morton shook his head.
“Why, you ar’n’t afraid o’ seeing the old woman’s ghost, are you?”
“Absurd! No. But it seems so horrible to come down that balcony pillar to get out on the sly.”
“Why, you never used to think so, my lad.”
“No, but I do now. Do you know, Dick,” he said in a whisper, “I often think that the old lady was killed by some one who had watched me go in and out that way.”
“Eh?” cried the fisherman, giving a peculiar stare.
“Yes, I do,” said the lad, laying his hand on the big fellow’s shoulders. “I feel sure of it, for that murder must have been done by some one who knew how easy it was to get up there and open the window.”
“Did you ever see anyone watching of you?” said the fisherman in a hoarse whisper.
“N-no, I’m not sure. I fancy I did see some one watching one night.”