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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"The Strange Case of Cavendish"

Her guard gripped her arm, and peered about through the
darkness.
"Isn't Ned here yet?"
"Yes, all right," answered a muffled voice to the left. "I just came
out; here are the grips and other things."
"Sure you cleaned up everything?"
"Never left a pin; here, Moore, pass them up inside."
"And about the note?"
"She wrote that, and pinned it on the pillow."
"Good, that will leave things in fine shape," he laughed. "I'd like to
see Jim's face when he reads that, and the madder he gets the less he
will know what to do."
"And you want us to stay?" asked the other doubtfully.
"Stay--of course; I am going to stay myself. It is the only way to
divert suspicion. Good Lord, man, if we all disappeared at once they
would know easy enough what had happened. Don't you ever believe
Westcott is that kind of a fool. More than that--there will be no
safety for us now until we get him out of the way; he knows too much.
Whereas your fat friend--old money-bags?"
"He thought it best to keep out of it; he's back inside."
"I imagined so; this sort of thing is not in his line.


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