“Then he must have left this house between the hours of two A. M. and, say, seven,—or, when did you call him, Mrs. Webb?”
“About eight, or soon after.”
“Very well, say he got away,—somehow,—between two and eight,—there’s a possibility that a watching or wakeful neighbor might have seen him go.”
“Oh, I see,” and Mrs. Webb nodded. “Well, make inquiries. As I said, the St. Johns are away, and their house is closed; but ask the Thornes if you like. It’s quite possible they saw something!”
The weird look came again into her eyes, and Elsie at once surmised that Kimball’s mother had a mental vision of her son, wafted by supernatural means through his own bedroom door, down two flights of stairs, and through the closed and locked street door, out,—away, nobody knew where, and the interested neighbors looking on!
Then Henry Harbison was announced, and with a sigh of relief Elsie turned to talk to him.
Harbison was to have been an usher at the wedding, and he called to see if he could be of any assistance to the family of the missing bridegroom.
After sympathetic greetings and inquiries, the young man took an active part in the discussion of the mystery.
“It’s the strangest thing I ever heard of!” he declared; “but I bet I can put you wise to a possible solution, anyway.”
“Good!” cried Hanley; “I confess it baffles me. I’m about to give up my part in it and ask the Chief to turn it over to a cleverer man.”