It had come without logic or reason, but he knew now that it had been
shaping in his head for two days past. And once spoken, it began to
justify itself. There was the motive, clear, distinct and proven; there
were the means and the man.
Next morning Simpkins was earlier than usual at the Oriental Building,
where he found the youth waiting for Brander to come and open up the
"Parson's late, eh?" he threw out by way of greeting.
"Always is," was the surly answer. "He's de 'rig'nal seven sleepers."
"Puts you behind with your cleaning, eh?"
"Naw; youse ought to know I don't do no cleanin'."
"You don't? I thought you tended to Mrs. Athelstone's rooms and--Mr.
"Aw, go wan. I'm no second girl, an' de storeroom's never cleaned.
Dere's nothin' to clean but a lot of stones an' bum mummies an' such."
"Brander can't sell much stuff; I never see anything being shipped."
"Oh! I don't know! We sent a couple of embammed dooks to Chicago last
"And last month?"
"Search me; I only copped out me job here last mont'; but seems as if
his whiskers did say dere was somethin' doin'." And just then Mr.
Brander came along.
Simpkins had found out what he wanted to know, and he decided that he
must bring his plans to a head at once. Mrs.