“But we wasn’t strong enough. Before we could see who did it, a man was killed. And in a minute we heard the police coming. Before they got there, we had all left, and they found no one but the dead man to arrest. Ever since, they’ve been tryin’ to find out who did the killin’.”
“Um!” grunted Franz, “and did you tell me they had arrested somebody?”
“No, my boy. They caught one fellow, a sailor, but he got away.”
“Oh, he got away. How many was there, at the time of the killin’?”
“There were three in the room, besides the man that was killed, and there was the old woman and me in the next room.”
“You forgit,” interrupts Mamma, “there was Nance.”
“Oh, yes,” rejoined Papa, as if grateful for the correction, “there was Nance.”
Franz glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping girl, and then asked sharply: “And what was Nance doin’.”
“Nance was layin’ on a pile o’ rags in a corner,” broke in Mamma, “an’ I had to drag her out.”
Franz gave utterance to something between a grunt and a chuckle.