Kerr was sure it was.
He went to the telegraph office, but was disappointed to learn that the boy who had the book he needed to see had been sent to a distant part of the city, and could not be back before six o’clock at the earliest.
Then Kerr was in doubt as to what he ought to do.
“It would make me look like thirty cents,” he reflected, “if I should arrest Hank Low, and bring him to the city, only to find that the boy’s book showed that he couldn’t have done the thing.”
“Suppose, for example, the book shows that the clerk signed it at twenty minutes to four.
“By that time Judson had been dead at least five minutes, and, of course, Low couldn’t be guilty.
“I think I’ll wait for the boy to get back. Carter may be here by that time, and I’d rather take his judgment.”
And Kerr left it that way. He went down to the railroad station at a quarter to six with Folsom, hoping to meet the great detective on the train due to arrive from Pueblo at that hour.