Charley went grumbling off to his room, and Nick sat on the porch or wandered about in the moonlight until three o’clock. Then he went toward the station, taking a roundabout path. He had heard nothing from Chick since he had left the house early in the evening.
The detective did not go straight to the station, but stopped in a thicket of evergreens that bordered a fence not far from the little railroad house. From his hiding place he had a full view of the back of the building, and also of the window of the little store under which so many things had taken place the night before. As Nick lay down to await the arrival of the train, Chick crept up and laid a hand on his arm.
“I saw you coming,” he said. “What’s new up at the house?”
“The end of the case lies here,” said Nick. “We have done with the house end of the murder and the robbery.”
“Well, you’ve got me guessing,” said Chick.
“Did the maid show up?” asked Nick.
“She’s hanging about in the shrubbery somewhere. Why should she do that?”
“She’s afraid she’ll be arrested for doing the shooting, and for other things,” said Nick.
“She do the shooting!” said Chick. “Impossible!”