Dr. Park. “Why, it would be more than you or I could do to overpower and hang a man weighing one hundred and seventy-five pounds.”
“That’s what I thought, but Maria seemed crazed like.”
“I tell you he did it! Are you going to let him go, the red-handed murderer?”
“Loose the cord, and I will question the boy,” said Dr. Park, with an air of authority.
Carl breathed a sigh of relief, when, freed from his bonds, he stood upright.
“I’ll tell you all I know,” he said, “but it won’t throw any light upon the death.”
Dr. Park listened attentively, and asked one or two questions.
“Did you hear any noise when you were sitting at the table?” he inquired.
“No, sir.”
“Was the door closed?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That of itself would probably prevent your hearing anything. Mrs. Brown, at what hour did you leave the house?”
“At ten minutes of twelve.”
“It is now five minutes of one. The deed must have been committed just after you left the house. Had you noticed anything out of the way in your—husband’s manner?”
“No, sir, not much. He was always a silent man.”
“Had anything happened to disturb him?”
“He got a letter this morning. I don’t know what was in it.”
“We had better search for it.”
The body was taken down and laid on the bed. Dr. Park searched the pockets, and found a half sheet of note paper, on which these lines were written:
“Maria:—I have made up my mind I can ive no longer. I have made a terrible discovery. When I married you, I thought my first wife, who deserted me four years ago, dead. I learn by a letter received this morning that she is still living in a town of Illinois. The only thing I can do is to free you both from my presence. When you come back from the store you will find me cold and dead. The little that I leave behind I give to you. If my first wife should come here, as she threatens, you can tell her so. Good-by.
“William.”
The reading of this letter made a sensation. Mrs. Brown went into hysterics, and there was a scene of confusion.
“Do you think I can go?” Carl asked Dr. Park.
“Yes. There is nothing to connect you with the sad event.”
Carl gladly left the cottage, and it was only when he was a mile on his way that he remembered that he had not paid for his dinner, after all.
CHAPTER IX
A PLAUSIBLE STRANGER
Three days later found Carl still on his travels. It was his custom to obtain his meals at a cheap hotel, or, if none were met with, at a farmhouse, and to secure lodgings where he could, and on as favorable terms as possible. He realized the need of economy, and felt that he was practicing it. He had changed his ten-dollar bill the first day, for a five and several ones. These last were now spent, and the five-dollar bill alone remained to him. He had earned nothing, though everywhere he had been on the lookout for a job.
Toward the close of the last day he overtook a young man of twenty-five, who was traveling in the same direction.
“Good-afternoon,” said the young man, sociably.
“Good-afternoon, sir.”
“Where are you bound, may I ask?”
“To the next town.”
“Fillmore?”
“Yes, if that is the name.”
“So am I. Why shouldn’t we travel together?”
“I have no objection,” said Carl, who was glad of company.
“Are you in any business?”
“No, but I hope to find a place.”
“Oh, a smart boy like you will soon find employment.”
“I hope so, I am sure. I haven’t much money left, and it is necessary I should do something.”
“Just so. I am a New York salesman, but just now I am on my vacation—taking a pedestrian tour with knapsack and staff, as you see. The beauty of it is that my salary runs on just as if I were at my post, and will nearly pay all my traveling expenses.”
“You are in luck. Besides you have a good place to go back to. There isn’t any vacancy, is there? You couldn’t take on a boy?” asked Carl, eagerly.
“Well, there might be a chance,” said the young man, slowly. “You haven’t any recommendations with you, have you?”
“No; I have never been employed.”
“It doesn’t matter. I will recommend you myself.”
“You might be deceived in me,” said Carl, smiling.
“I’ll take the risk of that. I know a reliable boy when I see him.”
“Thank you. What is the name of your firm?”
“F. Brandes & Co., commission merchants, Pearl Street. My own name is Chauncy Hubbard, at your service.”
“I am Carl Crawford.”
“That’s a good name. I predict that we shall be great chums, if I manage to get you a place in our establishment.”
“Is Mr. Brandes a good man to work for?”
“Yes, he is easy and good-natured. He is liberal to his clerks. What salary do you think I get?”
“I couldn’t guess.”
“Forty dollars a week, and I am only twenty-five. Went into the house at sixteen, and worked my way up.”
“You have certainly done well,” said Carl, respectfully.
“Well, I’m no slouch, if I do say it myself.”
“I don’t wonder your income pays the expenses of your vacation trip.”
“It ought to, that’s a fact, though I’m rather free handed and like to spend money. My prospects are pretty good in another direction. Old Fred Brandes has a handsome daughter, who thinks considerable of your humble servant.”
“Do you think there is any chance of marrying her?” asked Carl, with interest.
“I think my chance is pretty good, as the girl won’t look at anybody else.”
“Is Mr. Brandes wealthy?”
“Yes,
