The two hurried across the street to him.
"What's the matter?" Emlie demanded.
The Colonel spoke no word. He held the sheet out to them and with shaking forefinger pointed to the headlines:
BIG EMBEZZLEMENT BY FLAMSTED QUARRIES CO. OFFICIAL
GUILTY MAN A FUGITIVE FROM JUSTICE
SEARCH WARRANTS OUT
DETECTIVES ON TRAIL
"New York—Special Despatch: L. Champney Googe, the treasurer of the Flamsted Quarries Co.—" etc., etc.
The men looked at one another. There was a moment of sickening silence; not so much as a leaf whirled in the gutter; it was broken by a great cheer from the assembled hundreds of workmen farther up the street, followed by a conglomerate of hootings, cat-calls, yells and falsetto hoorays from the fringe of small boys. The faces of the three men in front of the post-office grew white at their unspoken thought. Each waited for the other.
"His mother—" said Emlie at last.