"Silas Keene!" exclaimed Bordine.
"Good lord, who'd a thought it?" interjected the motherly widow, with
upraised hands.
"Only a bit of disguise," laughed the detective. "I adopt such
frequently. It sometimes becomes highly necessary you know, Mr. Bordine."
"I suppose so."
"I saw a notice of your injury in the evening paper and hastened here at
once."
"Thanks. You are very kind," returned the young engineer. "I assure you
it is nothing serious, but may lay me on the stocks for a day or two. I
meant to assist you to-night, but, as you see, now, it is wholly out of
the question."
"Certainly."
"Have you made any discoveries?"
"None of consequence."
"We are no nearer the solution of the murder mystery than ever," muttered
Bordine. "I think, if you succeed in arresting Perry Jounce, you may
wring something from him. He is a low villain, and would as lief commit a
murder as eat."
"Yes. I mean to look after the scoundrel to-night."
"Don't attempt to do anything alone, Keene."
"I think there is little danger."
"But that tramp may have discovered his mistake by this time.
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