Oscar shook his head. “No, Sah, she done gone fo’ de day,” he said, opening the door and clambering with some difficulty to the pavement. “Miss Kitty said somethin’ ’bout seein’ Mrs. Parsons. She done call her up dis mawnin’.”
“I thought Miss Kitty had resigned from her secretary work.” Rodgers let his engine run and leaned over to speak to Oscar. “Has Mrs. Parsons been here?”
“No, Sah, not since Miss Susan’s death.” Oscar hesitated, looked up and down the empty street, then back over his shoulder. No one was within earshot. The old man took his hand from the car door and rested his weight on his cane. “I kinda ’spects they had a fight.”
“They—?” Rodgers eyed him in deep surprise. “Miss Kitty and Mrs. Parsons?”
“No, Sah. Mrs. Parsons an’ ole Miss Susan. Good mawnin’, Sah,” and Oscar stamped up the steps leading to “Rose Hill,” deaf to Rodgers’ repeated calls to return.
CHAPTER XI
I. O. U.
Ted Rodgers shut off his engine, sprang from the car and in ten strides had gained the old negro’s side.
“Stop a moment!” And at the stern command in his voice Oscar halted. “I am convinced that you know more of Miss Susan Baird’s death than you have admitted, Oscar, and—” his voice deepened, “you are going to tell me the truth.”