“I did.”
“Then Mrs. Ward has told a straight story apparently.” Mrs. Burnham’s expression grew peculiar and he asked quickly, “Have you reason to doubt it?”
“Only this,” she hesitated. “Please keep this confidential. When I engaged Mrs. Ward as my housekeeper three years ago she distinctly told me that she had no relatives living in this country.”
CHAPTER X
“SEDITIOUS UTTERANCES”
PALMER, fussing among his blue prints, looked up as his stenographer ushered Dan Maynard into his office.
“Sit down,” he exclaimed heartily. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come back after all; you need not wait, Miss Hall,” and the stenographer walked out, closing the door behind her. Palmer swung his swivel-chair about so as to face his visitor who had selected a seat near the desk. “I stopped at the Burnhams’ particularly to see you, but found you had left to come here.”
“Too bad,” commented Maynard. “I should have telephoned first before going to the rehearsal of the tableaux at the Belasco, to ask you to wait for me; my stupidity.” He leaned a little nearer. “Have you seen the taxi-driver?”
“Not yet.” Maynard’s face fell; he had jumped to the conclusion from Palmer’s manner that he had news of importance. “The Potomac Taxi Company reported Sam was engaged to motor a party out to Camp Meade; they are expected back this evening.” Palmer drummed his fingers on the desk a second, then asked abruptly: “Did you tell Mrs. Burnham about the attempt to shoot her husband last night?”
“No.” Maynard balanced his hat on his knee with nice exactness. “Burnham asked me not to. And to be quite candid, after I had helped Dr. Hayden put him to bed I departed and left the doctor to tell as much as he thought fit to Mrs. Burnham when she returned.”
“Was she out?”