I
learned afterwards that he called at Doctor Walker's, under
pretense of an attack of acute indigestion, and before he left,
had inquired about the evening trains to the city. He said he
had wasted a lot of time on the case, and a good bit of the
mystery was in my imagination! The doctor was under
the impression that the house was guarded day and night. Well,
give a place a reputation like that, and you don't need a guard
at all,--thus Jamieson. And sure enough, late in the afternoon,
the two private detectives, accompanied by Mr. Jamieson, walked
down the main street of Casanova and took a city-bound train.
That they got off at the next station and walked back again to
Sunnyside at dusk, was not known at the time. Personally, I knew
nothing of either move; I had other things to absorb me at that
time.
Liddy brought me some tea while I rested after my trip, and on
the tray was a small book from the Casanova library. It was
called The Unseen World and had a cheerful cover on which a
half-dozen sheeted figures linked hands around a headstone.
At this point in my story, Halsey always says: "Trust a woman to
add two and two together, and make six." To which I retort that
if two and two plus X make six, then to discover the unknown
quantity is the simplest thing in the world. That a houseful of
detectives missed it entirely was because they were busy trying
to prove that two and two make four.
The depression due to my visit to the hospital left me at the
prospect of seeing Halsey again that night.
Pages:
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253