d
sorrow! And yet, she had been fortunate in discovering now what he was.
There was no doubt about it, Braceway decided; she had loved him,
Braceway, all this time. In a few days he would tell her so, make her
confess it. He would compel her to listen to what he had to say; he would
never again jeopardize their happiness by allowing her to misunderstand
him.
He crossed the lobby with long, springy strides. He felt that he could
encounter no obstacle too great for him to overcome. Failure could not
touch him.
He left the hotel and went to Golson's office. He had much to do in
Baltimore--and elsewhere.
Hurrying to the station after a brief conference with Golson, he wondered
why he had heard nothing from Withers. What was the matter with George
anyhow? Why hadn't he acknowledged the telegram of yesterday? Couldn't he
realize, without being told, that he might be charged with the murder at
any moment?
Braceway was as well aware as Bristow of the rising flood of criticism
against Withers.
"If I can't bring things to a last show-down within a day or two," he
looked the situation squarely in the face, "it will be uncomfortable for
him--emphatically uncomfortable."
He turned to a study of the questions he wanted to put to Eidstein, this
kindly old merchant who was so considerate, so handsomely considerate,
about buying back jewels he had once sold. Mr. Eidstein, he felt sure,
must be an interesting character.
CHAPTER XXV
A MYSTIFYING TELEGRAM
Reaching Furmville early Sunday morning, Bristow went straight to his
bungalow, where Mattie had breakfast waiting for him.
"You is sholy some big man now, Mistuh Bristow!" she informed him. "Sence
you been gawn, folks done made it a habit to drive by hyuh jes' foh de
chanct uv seem' you."
Before the day was over, he found that this was true. And he liked it. He
spent a great deal of his time on the front porch, finding it far from
unpleasant to be regarded as a second Sherlock Holmes.
Late in the afternoon his Cincinnati friend, Overton, called on him,
puffing and gasping for breath as he climbed the steps. Bristow was glad
to see him; it afforded him an opportunity to discuss his success. He did
not try to delude himself in that regard; he was proud of what he had
accomplished--rightfully proud, he told himself--and pleased with his
plans for the future.
"Gee whiz!" the fat man panted. "This hill is something fierce. It's only
your sudden dash i
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