s
incidents of the discovery, the inquest, and the measures of the police
for the apprehension of the criminal. Mrs. Kilgore was so full of
questions that she scarcely gave Silas time to answer, and Joseph
flattered himself that his comparative silence was not noticeable.
Nevertheless, as they rose from the table, Silas remarked:--

"You don't seem much interested in our murder, Joseph; you have n't
asked the first question about it."

Mrs. Kilgore was just leaving the room, and she turned her head to
see how he would answer. But he, too, turned off the matter by saying
something about Maria's loquaciousness having left him no chance. After
tea the little family circle was gathered in the parlor. Mrs. Kilgore
was sewing; Silas read the newspaper, and Joseph sat up by the fire.
From time to time, as he glanced around, he caught Mrs. Kilgore's eyes
studying him very intently. Her manner indicated that her indignation
at his behavior and language earlier in the afternoon had been quite
neutralized by her curiosity as to its cause.

"There 's nothing in the paper to-night but the murder, and I know that
already," exclaimed Silas, finally. "Maria, where's there something to
read? Hullo! what's this?"

He had taken up from the table the story of circumstantial evidence
which Joseph had been reading that morning.

"Why, Maria, here's that murder-book you wouldn't let me finish last
summer for fear I'd murder you some night. Who on earth hunted up that
book of all books, to-day of all days?"

"I did," replied Joseph, clearing his throat, in order to speak with a
natural inflection.

"You did?" exclaimed Silas.

"You must have looked the house over to find it, for I hid it
carefully," said Mrs. Kilgore, looking sharply at him. "What made you so
anxious to get it?"

"I was not particularly anxious. I was merely looking for something to
read," said Joseph, making a pretense of yawning, as if the matter was a
very trivial one.

"I suppose the murder brought it to his mind," said Silas.

"Why, no!" exclaimed Mrs. Kilgore quickly. "You must have been reading
it before the murder. Now that I remember, I saw it in your hands."

"Before the murder, were you, Joseph? Why, that's almost enough to make
one feel superstitious," said Silas, turning around in his chair, so as
to look fairly at him.

Joseph had half a mind to make a clean breast of the matter then and
there, and explain to them how curiously the reading of tha