Tom said nothing. Here was confirmation of, and addition to, one sentence in the detectives' report.
Pete had been gone hardly more than a minute when he was back for the third time. "Say, Tom, guess where Petersen's movin'?" he called out from the dining-room door.
"I never can."
"On the floor above! A wagon load o' new furniture just pulled up down in front. I met Petersen an' his wife comin' in. Petersen was carryin' a bran' new baby carriage."
Pete's news had immediate corroboration. As he was going out Tom heard a thin voice ask, "Is Mr. Keating in?" and heard Maggie answer, "Go right through the next door;" and there was Mrs. Petersen, her child in her arms, coming radiantly toward him.
"Bless you, brother!" she said. "I've heard all about your glorious victory. I could hardly wait to come over an' tell you how glad I am. I'd 'a' come with Nels, but I wasn't ready an' he had to hurry here to be ready to look after the furniture when it come. I'm so glad! But things had to come out that way. The Lord never lets sin prevail!—praise His name!"
"Won't you sit down, Mrs. Petersen?" Tom said, in some embarrassment, relinquishing the slight hand she had given him.
"I can't stop a minute, we're so busy. You must come up an' see us. I pray God'll prosper you in your new work, an' make you a power for right. Good-by."
As she passed through the dining-room Tom heard her thin vibrant voice sound out again: "You ought to be the proudest an' happiest woman in America, Mrs. Keating." There was no answer, and Tom heard the door close.
In a few minutes Maggie came in and stood leaning against the back of one of the chairs. "Tom," she said; and her voice was forced and unnatural.