"Nobody's
going to object. You c'n yell, and shoot, and raise all the thunder
you want, an' there won't be nobody runnin' out to tell you to shut
up. Might as well try to disturb a graveyard."
There was not a sign of human life about the place. Peter, without
compunction, admitted his employer through the back door of the house,
and accompanied him upstairs to the room recently occupied by Miss
Cameron.
"Course," he said, but not uneasily, "I'm not supposed to let anybody
remove anything from the house as long as I'm employed as caretaker."
"But you are no longer employed as caretaker. You were discharged and
you are now working for me, Peter."
"That's so," said Peter, scratching his head. "Makes all the
difference in the world. I never thought of that. Come to think of it,
I guess Miss Cameron needs clothes as much as anybody. The rest of 'em
took all their duds away with 'em, you c'n bet. Would you know Miss
Cameron's clothes if you was to see 'em?"
"Perfectly," said Barnes.
"That's good," said Peter, relieved. "Clothes seem to look purty much
alike to me, specially women's."
They found the two small leather trunks, thickly belabelled, in the
room upstairs.
Pages:
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333