“Oh! very well, sir; but if you don’t mind speaking to him about the matter. It would be too bad to bury a clergyman in an ordinary——”
By this time Nick and Patsy were out of hearing.
When they were about halfway to the hotel, Nick remarked:
“It wasn’t suicide.”
“No,” responded Patsy. “I could see that. The thing that killed him was the breaking of the back of his skull on the sidewalk; but he had a black and blue mark over the right eye. That wasn’t made by his fall.”
“Certainly not. It was made by the blow that sent him reeling through the window.”
“That information will make your friend Folsom feel better, won’t it?”
“I judge so, as his telegram told me that he feared suicide, and hoped that it was murder.
“But,” added Nick, “I don’t think I shall be in a hurry to ease Folsom’s mind. We’ll wait till we have heard the whole story before letting him know what we think. It may be handy to give out the report that we believe it a case of suicide.”