“Well, gentlemen, I must be moving on. I have enough on my hands this morning. The affair must be probed to the bottom.”
As he drove away, one of the listeners said:
“It’s lucky that the Conrads have such a man as Haywood for their friend. He’ll sift the thing.”
Mr. Haywood’s prowess, and his ability to carry through whatever he undertook, were themes of remark and admiration by numbers of his fellow-citizens.
After leaving the crowd he turned from the main thoroughfare to a street on the left, then to the left again, and finally to the right. He was now on the same street through which Carlos had taken his mad ride in the storm. Looking cautiously around, he muttered to himself:
“Things have taken an unexpectedly fortunate turn. If this crime can be fastened on these two rascally cousins, itwill be a most effectual mode of getting them out of my way.”
Then he urged his horse along rapidly, and, after more turns in the road, brought up at the residence of Mr. Jacob Heath—the place where Carlos had so unwillingly staid in the darkness.
Mr. Heath was engaged in some occupation in the back yard, but came around to the front as the carriage stopped. He stared at his visitor in surprise.
“Good-morning, Jake,” said Mr. Haywood.
“Good-morning,” replied the one addressed, with a look of curiosity.