ot attach too much importance to the ringing
of the bell in inquiring into the attack on Father."
Avery smiled grimly. "He did, did he? Don't you see that that only
shows more surely that he did not want the ringing of the bell
investigated because it would lead us to himself? He did not happen to
tell you, did he, that the kind and size of socks he wears and carries
in his traveling-bag are very nearly the same as the black sock in
which the bar was wrapped with which your father was struck?"
"It was you, then, who took the sock from my bag?" Eaton demanded.
"It was the conductor, and I can assure you, Mr. Eaton-Hillward, that
we are preserving it very carefully along with the one which was found
in the snow."
"But the socks were not exactly the same, were they?" Harriet Santoine
asked.
Avery made a vexed gesture, and turned to Connery. "Tell her the rest
of it," he directed.
Connery, who had remained standing back of the two chairs, moved
slightly forward. His responsibility in connection with the crime that
had been carried out on his train had weighed heavily on the conductor;
he was worn and nervous.
"Where shall I begin?" he asked of Avery; he was looking not at the
girl but at Eaton.
"At the beginning," Avery directed.
"Mr. Eaton, when you came to this train, the gateman at Seattle called
my attention to you," Connery began. "I didn't attach enough
importance, I see now, to what he said; I ought to have watched you
closer and from the first. Old Sammy has recognized men with criminal
records time and time again. He's got seven rewards out of it."
Eaton felt his pulses close with a shock. "He recognized me?" he asked
quietly.
"No, he didn't; he couldn't place you," Connery granted. "He couldn't
tell whether you were somebody that was 'wanted' or some one well
known--some one famous, maybe; but I ought to have kept my eye on you
because of that, from the very start. Now this morning you claim a
telegram meant for another man--a man named Hillward, on this train,
who seems to be all right--that is, by his answers and his account of
himself he seems to be exactly what he claims to be."
"Did he read the telegram to you?" Eaton asked. "It was in code. If
it was meant for him, he ought to be able to read it."
"No, he didn't. Will you?"
Eaton halted while he recalled the exact wording of the message. "No."
Connery also paused.
"Is this all you have against me?" Eaton as
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