Mrs. Hall did not at once re-enter Millicent’s bedroom, but when she did her expression was not pleasant.
Wyndham was not noted for patience at any time, and when he strode into the dining-room his manner showed his frame of mind. He had a vanishing view of the butler, Selby, carrying a tray upstairs, but Murray’s non-appearance after he had repeatedly rung the bell added to his irritation. Jerking back his chair he pushed open the swing door.
“Murray!” he roared, and his voice carried through the pantry and into the kitchen beyond.
“Coming, sir, coming,” and the footman followed his words with such precipitancy that he almost collided with Wyndham. “Beg pardon, sir, for keeping you waiting, but cook felt fainty-like, and I was just helpin’ the maids give her some pneumonia.”
“Too bad!” Wyndham, concealing a smile, resumed his seat. “I hope she feels better.”
“Yes, sir, thank you. Your breakfast is being kept warm for you; shall I bring it in?”
A nod sufficed in answer as Wyndham spied the morning newspaper, and paying no further attention to the footman he turned sheet after sheet with feverish haste. With little to feed upon, excitement about the Brainard murder had abated, and the column devoted to it had been relegated to the third page. The reporter assigned to the case had evidently had difficulty in finding a new angle in handling the mystery, and had devoted his energies to concocting an ingenious résumé. But one paragraph near the bottom of the column riveted Wyndham’s attention.
Detective Mitchell, when interviewed last night, confirmed the report that events in the career of Bruce Brainard before he came to Washington were being investigated, and a thorough search made into the dead man’s private affairs. Brainard was a self-made man, and while a student at the Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute at Troy, N. Y., he spent his summer vacations working as private secretary to the Director of the Bureau of Engraving and Printing in Washington. Brainard afterward made a name for himself in his profession, and was one of the recognized high-salaried consulting engineers of this country.
All efforts to establish the ownership of the razor used to kill Brainard have been unproductive of result. The detectives claim the razor is one of a set, but where and by whom the other razors of the set have been hidden in the Porter homestead is a mystery.
“Deviled kidney, sir,” prompted Murray, presenting a piping hot dish, and Wyndham, with a thoughtful air, laid down the newspaper and commenced his breakfast.