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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"The Strange Case of Cavendish"

Now that's all you need to know,
Timmons; but I've got a question or two I want to ask you. Come on
back into the office."
Miss Donovan sat in one of the chairs by the front window waiting. As
they entered she arose to her feet.
Westcott crossed the room and took her hand.
"He's all right," he assured her quickly, interpreting the question in
her eyes. "Tired from the trip, of course, but a night's rest will do
wonders. And now, Timmons," he turned to the bewildered landlord, "is
that man Enright upstairs?"
"The New York lawyer? No, he got frightened and left. He skipped out
the next day after you fellers got away. Bill wanted him to go along
with him, but he said he was too sick. Then he claimed to have a
telegram callin' him East, but he never did. I reckon he must 've got
cold feet 'bout somethin'--enyhow he's gone."
"And Miss La Rue?"
"Sure; she took the same train," eager now to divulge all he knew.
"But that ain't her real name--it's a kind o' long name, an' begins
with C. I saw it in a letter she left up-stairs, but I couldn't make
it all out.


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