o merchant standing about at home begging for his
breakfast, while important business awaited him at the store, was
enough to crack the thickest crust of solemnity. The merchant's
dignity was soon brought back; never was it far beyond his reach. At
breakfast he was severe with silence.

Over and over again during the day Henry repeated Richmond's words,
"Whom does it benefit" and these words went to bed with him, and as
though restless, they turned and tossed themselves upon his mind
throughout the night, and like children, they clamored to be taken up
at early morning, to be dressed in the many colors of supposition.

CHAPTER XXI.

A HELPLESS OLD WOMAN.

In Kansas City was arrested a suspicious-looking man, who, upon being
taken to jail, confessed that his name was Dare Kittymunks and owned
that he had killed old man Colton. Thus was ended the search for the
murderer, the newspapers said, and the vigilance of the Kansas City
police was praised. But it soon transpired that the prisoner had been
a street preacher in Topeka at the time when the murder was committed,
that he had on that day created a sensation by announcing himself John
the Baptist and swearing that all other Johns the Baptist were base
impostors. The fellow was taken to an asylum for the insane, and the
search for Dave Kittymunks was resumed.

Old Mrs. Colton had not moved a muscle since the night of the murder.
She lay looking straight at the ceiling, and in her eyes was an
expression that seemed constantly to repeat, "My body is dead, but my
mind is alive." Once every week the pastor of her church came to see
her. He was an old man, threatened with palsy, and had long ago ceased
to find pleasure in the appetites and vanities of this life. He came
on Sunday, just before the time for evening services in the church,
and kneeling at the old woman's chair, which he placed near her
bedside, lifted his shaking voice in prayer. It was a touching sight,
one infirmity pleading for another, palsy praying for paralysis; but
upon these devotions Brooks began to look with a frown.

"What is the use of it?" he asked, speaking to his wife. "If a
celebrated specialist can't do her any good, I know that an old man's
prayer can't."

"We ought not to deny her anything," the wife answered.

"And we ought not to inflict her with anything," the husband replied.

"Prayer was never an infliction to her."

"But this old man's praying is an infliction to the r