As soon as they were seated, Elmer said: “Did you see the evening papers?”
“No.”
“Then you haven’t heard about our late friend?”
“What friend?” asked Wilbur, pettishly.
“Tom Smith.”
“What has he been doing?”
“He was murdered in his cell to-day,” replied Greer, expecting that his friend would be carried away with surprise.
“Good for him,” muttered Wilbur. “Have they got the murderer?”
“Not yet,” answered Elmer, “but the paper says the police have an important clew.”
Wilbur became deadly pale, and his heart felt as if made of lead.