“What did he ever make? Did he invent anything?”
“I don’t know whether he invented anything new or not. He made a very curious rat-trap, that caught six rats alive, and left them facing each other in a little circle of wire stalls. And then he got up a model of a mowing-machine and gave it to some farmer, who, I believe, had one made on a larger scale and got it patented. But the most wonderful thing was the large clock in his study. He worked for months on it, and put it up, frame and all, himself. It is fastened to the wall and cannot be moved. He put the winding of it in my charge, and I still attend to it every Saturday morning.”
“What a wonderful man he was! And good, too, I am sure, though I never could succeed in approaching him to any degree of intimacy. By the way, how generous Mr. Haywood is toward the poor young man who—did the awful deed. I saw him once, and could not help feeling sympathy for him, he was so young and kind-looking.And now that he has escaped, Mr. Haywood seems so charitable toward him.”
“How? Mr. Haywood never speaks to me of him.”
“Does he not? I heard only the other day that he did not join in the clamor for his capture, but said let him go—he might go to some strange land and lead a better life.”
“Mabel,” said Florence, earnestly, “do you know that I never believed Carlos Conrad to be guilty?”
“You did not?”
“No; I saw him twice, and twice only, after he came to Dalton—once when he called here, and the other time at the examination before Justice Bean. And I felt as you did—that there was something in his face to call up one’s sympathy. And more than that, he did not look like a villain;he had a frank, kind expression, and seemed every inch a gentleman.”
“Florence you surprise me!”
“And shock you?”