"Yes, of course, Jean. You have a fine crop of wheat on all your land."
"I have?"
"Yes, it is so," she reassured him. And then she paused, as something seemed to occur to her. "Because of the fact that you have had several failures you cannot realize that you have actually raised a crop, a big crop, better than any crop since—since." She stopped short, and he understood and suppressed a sigh. When he looked up, she was moving down the hallway, her mind filled with something she had almost forgotten during the past two days.
He knew of it. She had been given quite a write-up in the social columns of a Chicago paper and many lovers of her musical hit, were, unknown to her, curious with regard to her coming marriage.
The detective Agnes had retained, called on Baptiste's lawyers and held a lengthy consultation. When he left them, an understanding had been reached with regard to the hearing, and silence was agreed upon.
At the magistrate's office the following morning, the court room was crowded. Scores were turned away, and all the family had been subpœnaed.
Glavis was first called, and related what he knew, which has already been related. Next came Mrs. McCarthy who knew even less. She was followed by Ethel, and the detective and two lawyers questioned her closely.
"Now, you say you heard your sister scream," said the lawyer after the usual formalities had passed. "Will you kindly state to the court just what you overheard and know regarding this affair?"
She glared at him, and then her eyes met those of Baptiste, and she glared again. She told a varied story of the case, and made it very brief.
"You say, madame, that after you heard your sister scream you rushed from your room and to where she was?"