"You'd be more likely to catch the villain by leaving the door unlocked and keeping a watch," said Burton, lightly assuming that the capture of the miscreant was still their joint object. "And I'll leave you this new manuscript to add to your collection. It is of no value to me."
'And he presented the incriminating paper to the doctor with a smile and took his leave. To himself, he hoped that enough had been said to make the doctor realize that if the disturber of the peace of High Ridge was not to be caught, it would be best to--get him away.
As he walked toward the hotel, he let himself face the situation frankly. If Henry was, as a matter of fact, the criminal, his firing of the Sprigg house was probably less from malice toward the Spriggs than from the conviction that it would be attributed to the agency of the doctor, whose rash speech about calling down fire on his persecutors had fitted so neatly into the outcome. Like the freakish pranks of which Miss Underwood had told, it was designed to hold the doctor up to public reprobation. Only this was much more serious than those earlier pranks. If a man would go so far as to imperil the lives of an entire family to feed fat his grudge against some one else, and that one his own father, it argued a dangerous degree of abnormality. Was it possible that Leslie Underwood's brother was criminally insane? Suddenly Rachel Overman's face rose before him. He saw just how she would look if such a question were raised about a member of the family from which Philip had chosen his wife.
"Oh, good Lord!" Burton muttered to himself.
[CHAPTER VIII]
THE BABY THAT WAS TIED IN
It was nearing noon when Burton left Dr. Underwood's. He took the street that ran by the Sprigg house, though it led him somewhat out of the most direct road to the hotel. He wanted to get the temper of the crowd and the gossip of the street. But the crowd had dispersed. He saw one man near the blackened wall of the house where the fire was supposed to have started. He was bending down, as though examining the ground. Then he rose and went away,--somewhat hurriedly and furtively, Burton thought. It was, indeed, this skulking quality in the man's hasty departure that made Burton look at him a second time. It was Selby. So! He was apparently hunting for the "proof" that he had promised. But why should he be so secretive about it?
As he came around by the other side of the burned house, he saw that two boys were still lingering on the scene of the morning's excitement. They were talking vigorously, and when Burton stopped by the fence and looked in, one of the boys, recognizing a kindred interest in the drama of life, called to him:
"Did yer see the bush where the kid was found?"
"What kid?" asked Burton.