It was enough to bowl anybody over.
I did not sleep a wink last night, thinking about it. I have
been living in a daze ever since. I cannot begin to tell you how
disappointed I am in not being able to see you this morning. Perhaps
by tonight you will feel like letting me come. Ever yours, Courtney.'"
"Well?" said Mrs. Strong, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
A fine line appeared between Alix's eyes. She was deep in thought.
"Have they caught the man?" she asked, after a moment.
"Not that I know of. What's more, they'll never catch him. Bill
Foss sent word up he was bringing several Italians here to see if
we could identify one of them as the man."
"How can we be expected to identify a man whose face was covered
by a mask?"
"Well, Bill is doing his best," replied Mrs. Strong patiently.
"We've got to say that much for him. Charlie Webster was here early
this morning to say that the police up in town have been notified,
and they're sending a detective out. But he won't be any better
than Bill Foss, so it's a waste of time. What we ought to have is
a Pinkerton man from Chicago."
Despite the calm, deliberate manner in which she spoke, there was
an odd, eager light in Mrs. Strong's eyes.
"I wish you would go down to the warehouse, Aunt Nancy, and ask
Charlie to take the car and go up to the city. Tell him to call
up the Pinkerton offices in Chicago and ask them to send the best
man they have.
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