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Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 1876-1958

"The Circular Staircase"

For that was
the situation as it developed.
He was a tall lanky individual, ragged and dirty, and just now he
looked both terrified and embarrassed. Alex was too much
engrossed to be either, and to this day I don't think I ever
asked him why he went off without permission the day before.
"Miss Innes," Alex began abruptly, "this man can tell us
something very important about the disappearance of Mr. Innes. I
found him trying to sell this watch."
He took a watch from his pocket and put it on the table. It
was Halsey's watch. I had given it to him on his twenty-first
birthday: I was dumb with apprehension.
"He says he had a pair of cuff-links also, but he sold them--"
"Fer a dollar'n half," put in the disreputable individual
hoarsely, with an eye on the detective.
"He is not--dead?" I implored. The tramp cleared his throat.
"No'm," he said huskily. "He was used up pretty bad, but he
weren't dead. He was comin' to hisself when I"--he stopped and
looked at the detective. "I didn't steal it, Mr. Winters," he
whined. "I found it in the road, honest to God, I did."
Mr. Winters paid no attention to him. He was watching Alex.
"I'd better tell what he told me," Alex broke in. "It will be
quicker. When Jamieson--when Mr. Jamieson calls up we can start
him right. Mr. Winters, I found this man trying to sell that
watch on Fifth Street. He offered it to me for three dollars."
"How did you know the watch?" Winters snapped at him.


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