THE WHOLE TRUTH
When Ruel and Pete entered the jail the following morning at seven
o’clock as Sewell had instructed, the latter had breakfast ready and
waiting. His invitation to partake of it needed no repetition.
‘Peaceful night, eh? I didn’t see a soul go out, did you?’ the
inspector questioned them as they sat down at the table.
‘Nary a sign of one,’ said Pete.
‘Nor I,’ reported Ruel. ‘Where were you, Ez?’
‘Oh, I circled back a bit after I left the house,’ responded the
inspector vaguely.
‘Those three men sat up half the night playing cards. I could watch
them through the window,’ added Ruel as he sipped his coffee.
‘I thought they might. Well, stock up, boys, an’ then rest a bit till
we meet Detective Bartrum on the train an’ go up to King’s.’
‘Rest? Not I, Ez. Do we all go together?’
‘Yep, that is, providin’ you’ll obey orders an’ behave,’ nodded
Sewell. ‘An’ for my part, I’ll promise to clean up the mystery.’
Ruel’s eyes pleaded for more information, but he stifled his
questions when the inspector shook his head.
Breakfast over, the three men made short work of cleaning and
putting away the dishes, then Ezra set about tidying up the already
neat room. It proved a rather futile task. Ruel kept walking about
nervously, moving a chair as soon as Ezra had carefully straightened
it or absently picking up some object and replacing it in the wrong
spot. At first, Sewell merely grunted and hastened to set them to
rights again, but at length he gave it up when it appeared to be
rapidly becoming a sort of endless game of checkers--a series of
moves and jumps without purpose.
He sat down to smoke, but Ruel’s nervousness had proved infectious.
His pipe would not draw well, puffed out ashes unexpectedly; the
smoke bit his tongue. He glanced repeatedly at his watch. At last, he
got to his feet, procured the clues from the safe, and started for
the door. Here he collided violently with Ruel, who apologized in a
breathless tone.
‘Take it easy,’ admonished Sewell kindly. ‘You might expend some of
your superfluous energy fillin’ the radiator with water, if you’ve a
mind to, son.’
This humble duty accomplished, Ruel sprang into the seat beside Ezra,
Pete in the rear, and they drove quickly to the station. Of course
the train was late, but at last it puffed into sight, tooted, and
panted to a stop at the small platform. Two men got down after the
conductor and turned toward the main street. Both were natives of the
village.
Ezra looked up and down the platform expectantly, but the train
pulled out again, and Bartrum, the detective, had not arrived.
‘Guess he slipped up somehow,’ explained Sewell, bolstering up his
own disappointment. ‘I’d kind of figured on his help a bit, but with
a little changin’ of plans, we can get along without him, all right.
Just as well, maybe, at that.’
He took this mishap philosophically, but the ride to King’s house was
a silent one as he appeared to be thinking seriously. They picked
up Dr. Smith on the way, but he, too, sensed Ezra’s abstraction, so
remained mute after a friendly greeting. When they drew up before the
house, Sewell gave a low command to his henchmen.
‘We’ll meet in King’s den. Ruel, stay by the door; Pete, by the
window. You, Doctor, watch out for any tricks.’
They entered the hall just as Mrs. Bascom appeared at the top of the
stairs and looked questioningly at Ezra. He shook his head in the
negative, and she disappeared silently.
A little pile of luggage--four suit-cases, a brief-case, and a small
handbag--lay on the floor near the hatrack. These Ezra recognized as
belonging to Judge Brant and Dr. New. One of them he picked up and
handed to Basil, whispering, ‘Take it to the den an’ kind of put it
out of sight. Wait there.’
His order obeyed, Sewell called out briskly, ‘Hey there, anybody to
home?’
A door opened somewhere above and Judge Brant appeared in the upper
hall. Dr. New came almost simultaneously from the rear hall. Each
seemed on the point of asking an eager question when he noticed the
other and stopped.
‘’Mornin’, gentlemen. Have a good game after I left?’
‘We did play quite a while,’ yawned the judge, glancing sidewise at
Dr. New.
‘Sure. Gettin’ ready to leave, were you?’ He nodded toward the
luggage.
‘Temporarily,’ answered Dr. New. ‘Judge Brant offered me a ride and
we both have to go for the day, at least, so decided it would be a
good chance to take most of our things with us. We thought that as
soon as this new man had asked any questions he might want to put,
we’d be off. Of course we’ll come back, if necessary.’
‘Guess that man ain’t comin’--just yet.’
‘No? That’s unfortunate, as I really must be in town by noon at the
latest.’
‘Oh, that’s all right. I think we can fix things so nobody much need
wait around longer. But how about your patient, Doctor?’
‘Miss Hawley? I was going to speak to you about her. There’s really
nothing I can do that your village doctor can’t attend to quite well.
Of course, it’s an interesting case and I shall hope to follow it
closely, but I can leave directions and all that quite easily.’
‘I brought him along, thinkin’ he might prove handy,’ said Ezra.
‘Glad I did now. Then you think her condition ain’t really serious?’
‘I hope not. She’s still unconscious, you know,’ he added for the
benefit of the other doctor. ‘She hasn’t been able to speak and
explain her symptoms, so for that reason I may be mistaken in my
diagnosis.’
‘Glad to hear you say so, Doctor,’ Sewell gravely answered. ‘Where’s
Stacey?’
‘Around somewhere. Shall I find him?’
‘Wish you would, Judge, an’ bring him along to the den.’
Ezra did not seem to notice the judge’s gesture which sought a
private word with him. As soon as he had gone on his errand, Sewell
moved away toward the den and Dr. New seized his opportunity
to remark in a low tone, ‘We played cards rather late, and
I--er--followed your directions.’
‘Good. No trouble?’
‘None, though both men seemed keyed up, watchful and nervous, rather
furtive at times. But what does it mean? This detective----’
‘Far as I know he’ll be along sometime, but I guess it don’t make any
difference. I don’t need him after all.’
‘What? You mean----’
‘Yep, I know who killed King, how an’ why,’ drawled the inspector.
‘Ah, here’s Stacey. How are you, Basil?’
The latter nodded as he entered the den with the judge. He seemed
surprised by the cordiality of Sewell’s tone. Then he noticed Ruel,
rather tense and silent, by the door and greeted him with an effort
at heartiness.
‘Glad to see you again, Ruel. Out on parole or--well, what?’
‘For good,’ answered Sewell succinctly. ‘Now we’re all here, let’s
get down to horses an’ sheep. No, hold on a bit. Ellen B. ain’t here.
I’ll call her.’
‘Too bad Miss Hawley can’t join the group,’ added Judge Brant.
Ezra disregarded this remark, disappearing into the hall. They heard
him call out to Mrs. Bascom. As he passed Ruel in returning to the
room, he whispered, ‘Hold hard, son, she’s comin’,’ then walked to
the desk, where he stood staring silently at Dr. New. The latter
returned his gaze questioningly, but his lips twitched slightly as
the silence remained unbroken, save for Mrs. Bascom’s advancing
footsteps, curiously slow and halting.
It was one of those peculiarly electric moments when, without a word
spoken, every one seemed to feel a tenseness in the air, to expect
something neither definite nor understandable. Mrs. Bascom’s approach
seemed somehow significant, ominous, yet there was no reason for such
a feeling. The doctor’s eyes shifted nervously toward the doorway;
every one’s gaze, except Sewell’s, riveted there.
Mrs. Bascom appeared in the doorway, gravely paused, half turned
about, held out her hand, and Sylvia stepped to her side! The latter
was dressed in a becoming frock and her face, though a trifle wan,
was flushed with excitement.
Ruel started forward eagerly, but after one step, drew himself back
to his post. For once, hard as it was, he obeyed orders, though his
eyes spoke to Sylvia’s even more expressively than his actions could
have done. In silence Mrs. Bascom led her to a chair, holding her
hand encouragingly as she stood beside her. Dr. New’s face became
suddenly pallid as he leaned forward, winking to clear his vision.
‘Miss Hawley,’ he muttered in an unnatural tone, ‘what are you
doing--up--like this? I thought----’
‘Yes, your diagnosis was wrong, eh, Doctor? She came to quick enough
once we discovered what ailed her--dope!’
‘Dope?’ The doctor whirled toward Ezra. He was now completely master
of himself again through an heroic effort, his expression one of
incredulity. ‘You mean to insinuate I drugged her?’
‘She was your patient.’
‘But who told you that--said she was drugged?’
‘I did,’ answered Dr. Smith levelly. ‘She was not only doped with
medicine, but had been given a hypodermic injection, cleverly
concealed under the band of her wristwatch.’ Their eyes met, Dr.
Smith’s frankly accusing and hard, Dr. New’s snapping with anger.
‘Then you’re a poor specimen of a medical man!’ sneered the latter.
‘The idea is sheer idiocy. Why should I----But wait. It’s just
possible I might have confused those pills. I happened to have two
unlabeled bottles, though of different shapes, and one held a mild
drug. Of course I may have seized the wrong one in a hurry----’
‘And I might requote your epithet on that score, Doctor! Besides, who
gave the hypodermic?’ Again their eyes met, and this time there was
anger in both pairs.
‘Look here, Sewell,’ blustered Dr. New, deliberately turning his back
on his accuser, ‘do you mean to stand there and let me be insulted by
a mere country quack?’
‘Yep, an’ to add a country constable’s insult, let me expand the
accusation of druggin’ to breakin’ with the intent to steal, an’
murder!’
Dr. New sprang toward the inspector, swinging his clenched fist back
to strike, only to have it seized firmly by the other physician. His
eyes blazed, and his breath whistled through his compressed lips as
he tugged to free his hand. But the physical action seemed to calm
him, to make him realize the uselessness of this act. With a gasp and
a shudder, his tenseness relaxed, and Dr. Smith released his hand,
though remaining alertly near him.
‘That calls for an explanation, Sewell,’ cried the doctor. His voice
bit harshly even as it trembled with rage, and his face blanched to a
pasty gray.
‘An’ it don’t call in vain, you damned sneakin’ murderer--you skunk
in sheep’s clothin’,’ snapped the inspector, loosing control of
himself for that one outburst, then speaking with a quick, incisive
tone that fell in unfamiliar cadence from his lips. ‘I’m only too
glad to oblige you.’
Sewell whirled on his heel, crossed over to a chair near Ruel, seized
the small bag from under it, and set it upon the desk. As he began to
speak, he opened it, then drew a pair of handcuffs from his pocket
and placed them beside it.
‘You’ve been lookin’ for action, have you? Well, now you’ll get it.
You killed King, an’ this is how.
‘Knowin’ the secret of his past, you tried out blackmail--just
sendin’ him that number on pieces of paper. As his doctor an’ friend,
you watched him, but he didn’t seem scared. You hated him, an’ that
night your chance came for revenge. You took it.
‘You sneaked out to the barn while they were makin’ plans for the
play an’ listened. When they’d gone, you oiled the doors, or
windows, located the creaks in the floor to avoid, an’ tucked that
slip of paper in the pocket of his dressing-gown. Bravado, eh, but
’twas kind of a fool thing to do. Then you took the paper-knife from
his desk in the house here an’ got your rubber gloves handy.
‘In the darkness of the play, you took a seat right near the window,
crept out of it, walked along the wall so as not to leave foot marks,
an’ came in by that other one, so nicely curtained. Just after Ruel
acted his part, you killed King an’ sneaked back. It was easy that
way--even simple to make some alibi if you’d been missed, ’cause
it was dark an’ besides you were King’s friend. In the confusion
afterwards, you locked the window, an’ threw the knife down the chute
where you could get it again later. But you didn’t get the chance or
know Sylvia had fallen there, through your leavin’ the cover off.
‘You thought you played the game clever--stayin’, when urged, to
watch an’ cover your trail in case anythin’ went wrong. But nothin’
did at first. A country fool of an inspector took charge. He did
nothin’ but talk, an’ was easy to bluff an’ flatter. You were safe.
Everythin’ went fine. Others were suspected, others blundered, but
never you, oh, no! Then somethin’ turned up that was puzzlin’. The
knife disappeared from the chute, an’ no one seemed to know about
it. Other little things went queer, too--the robbery, the way Sylvia
acted about the will an’ the money you coveted, but couldn’t get.
You got a wee bit nervous, an’ decided to stick around, make sure to
cover your tracks, eh?
‘Then luck played into your hands. You learned by eavesdroppin’ that
Mrs. Bascom had the knife, but had kept it a secret. You guessed it
was in her house an’ blundered outright--tryin’ to recover it. You
didn’t find it, ’cause I beat you to it. Still nothin’ happened,
nothin’ tangible. You got a shock, though, learnin’ Sylvia had told
Mrs. Bascom a lot more that night after you thought she was asleep.
You knew she had almost caught you in King’s workshop just before the
play. Perhaps she knew somethin’ else--too much!
‘You decided to shut her up until you could make a clean
get-away. What more natural than a nervous breakdown--a coma? A
few drugs would do it. Safe, eh? But it didn’t work, you see.
Murder--druggin’--breakin’--all proved to a T.’
Sewell paused to regain his breath after this long speech.
Dr. New had been watching him steadily, his face hard and devoid
of emotional expression, but there was a gleam of real fear in his
eyes that he could not disguise. Steel himself as he had for part of
these accusations, a recital of all his movements and reactions so
logically and clearly in such an assured tone came near to breaking
his control.
‘A fine story--very ingenious. But such beautifully fabricated
deductions cannot be proved, Sewell.’
‘No? Take ’em one by one, then, an’ let Judge Brant here see what he
thinks of the evidence. Supposin’ I was to list ’em off this way.
‘First, you were seen listenin’ to the rehearsal. Second, you used
castor oil on those doors, havin’ some handy in this bag here. Oh,
yes, that’s been tested an’ proved when I wiped some of it off, you
see. Third, it was known where you sat near the window. Clever as you
were, some of the guests had senses an’ used ’em too. You forgot the
women might get excited an’ want to hold your hand! That’s how they
found you gone.
‘Fourth, you were seen at the window durin’ the confusion when you
locked it an’ also when you skipped out to get rid of the knife.
Fifth, you tried to throw suspicion on others an’ acted noble as if
you wanted to help, only to find a way to hinder. Sixth, you broke
into Mrs. Bascom’s house to get the knife.’
Sewell took out a pair of rubber gloves from the doctor’s bag.
‘Careless-like, you broke her vial of musk when searchin’ in her
room--got some on your gloves. Musk’s pretty penetratin’--you can
still smell it on ’em. An’, incidentally, probably these are the same
ones you used when you killed King, eh? Seventh, you drugged Sylvia
Hawley to close her mouth effectively. I picked up a couple of them
dope pills in your room. Eighth, you were preparin’ to run away an’
never come back.
‘How do I know? ’Cause you received a letter from a steamship company
yesterday an’ they told me it contained a ticket to South America
when I telephoned them.--How’s that for a few clinchers, Judge?’
The latter could not speak as his cheeks puffed crimson with emotion,
but he nodded emphatically.
‘Oh, yes, an’ the motive,’ continued Sewell as the doctor moistened
his lips to speak. ‘The dead past they tell about ain’t so dead but
what its ghosts can rise up. We know King’s story. We also know his
innocence an’ _your guilt_--your connection with his partner, Fox,
an’ his gang of smugglers, drug peddlers, petty criminals--even his
death!’
Dr. New’s bravado crumpled suddenly under this last battery of
accusations. He slumped against the desk as if for support, his head
lolling to one side, his hands nervously plucking and fumbling at his
coat. One hand darted into his pocket and up to his mouth suddenly.
With a cry, Sewell sprang forward, but Dr. Smith acted even quicker.
He seized the back of New’s jaws with one hand, his throat with the
other. The one made him open his mouth, the other prevented him from
swallowing until Sewell had roughly snatched out the pill which lay
on the guilty man’s tongue.
‘None of that. Poison’s a cheap way of cheatin’ justice an’ too easy
for the likes of you.’ As he spoke, Sewell snapped on the handcuffs.
‘Of course, that’s a confession of your guilt, but not all the one
you’re goin’ to give.’
‘Oh, I confess--to both of them,’ snarled the doctor impotently.
‘King’s an’ his partner Fox’s deaths, eh? Well, I guess we’d better
have that in writin’ even if we have got enough witnesses. Judge, how
about it?’
For answer, Judge Brant strode to the desk, seized paper and pen, and
began to write.
His act broke the spell of tenseness that had held the others silent
in its grasp. There was a rustle as they all seemed to stir at
once, to find emotional relief in some movement, however trifling
and insignificant. Peter drew closer to Dr. New’s side. Basil Stacey
fumbled for a chair and sat down in it heavily. Mrs. Bascom released
Sylvia’s hand and glanced at her face, rather expecting to find
nervous tears of excitement there. But Sylvia sprang to her feet and
moved toward Ruel with a smile that ignored every one and everything
else. They did not speak, merely joined hands and gazed at each
other, so Mrs. Bascom looked away, stepped to the desk, sniffed of
the musk-scented gloves, then smiled at Sewell’s exultant expression.
The judge’s pen scratched its way across the paper in a brief
statement of the two murders he had just heard confessed, then he
thrust the pen into Dr. New’s hand, soberly read aloud the words that
he had written, and waited while the guilty man awkwardly signed his
name.
An involuntary sigh of relief escaped Sewell’s lips, but he tried to
conceal it by speaking sharply.
‘I’ll take care of that paper, Judge. Now, then, Pete, rustle him off
to the jail, an’ do it kind of sly. I don’t want trouble when the
village finds out who killed King, an’ there might be if they learned
it too quick or sudden. Search him careful before you go too. Judge,
would you just as soon drive him along in your car? Thanks. An’ you,
Dr. Smith, better step along with ’em as an extra guard. I guess you
understand about most things by now, an’ what you don’t, I’ll be
pleased to tell you later.’
Sewell looked about him, as if to make sure every one was accounted
for, and saw Basil scowling ferociously at the oblivious Sylvia and
Ruel. The inspector chuckled aloud.
‘Oh, Miss Hawley, if I could interrupt for a second----About that
will, now. What do you say doin’ with it?’
Sylvia turned about slowly, her face animated, her eyes sparkling.
‘Just what I said before--and always meant to do if there was no
other way--probate it! As soon as that is done, I shall make a lot
of bequests and gifts--all, in fact, that are specified in the will
he really meant to execute. If you’re afraid to trust me, make it
binding somehow in writing and I’ll sign it.’
‘Hump! Guess that ain’t necessary--not for the likes of you, Sylvia.
An’ I calculate it kind of proves drugs ain’t hurt you none or warped
your brain!’
‘But, Sylvia’--Basil jumped to his feet excitedly--‘you don’t seem to
realize things yet. You need some one to explain----’
‘Yes, I guess I do. Won’t you help me and explain things--Ruel?’
she smiled, deliberately turning her back on Stacey. Though this
movement hid her own face and expression, Ruel’s was easy to see--and
interpret!
With another explosive chuckle, Sewell again issued a command.
‘Stacey, get along in that auto, too. The doctor might as well have
a full an’ complete bodyguard to his new lodgin’s. Besides, you
ain’t--er--needed here any longer--an’ that’s permanent!’
Basil took the hint. There was nothing else he could do! After the
prisoner’s pockets had been emptied into his satchel, the men filed
out of the room. But Ruel was oblivious to their departure as he and
Sylvia whispered together.
When Sewell had seen the automobile disappear down the road, he swung
about on the piazza steps to find Mrs. Bascom at his elbow.
‘Congratulations, Ezra.’
‘Congratulations, Ellen.’
Their words were spoken in unison and made them both smile. Mrs.
Bascom was the first to recover, becoming serious again.
‘It’s all over, Ezra, and, my, what a relief! Somehow this house
seems--natural, like King’s home, for the first time in days. It’s
the old, Smiling House again.’
‘What you mean by that, Ellen, some of your fancy business?’
‘Yes--nothing. But, Ezra, there’s so much I don’t understand even
now.’ Automatically they began to walk away from the house toward the
road. ‘You learned so much more than I ever suspected. Who was it
saw him eavesdropping at the workshop? Which one told you where he
sat during the play? None of the women, I’m sure, for their written
statements made no mention of it. Yet you said----’
Sewell stumbled and almost fell headlong. He stopped to pick up
an old, rusty horseshoe by the side of the road, stared at it in
surprise, then burst into a laugh.
‘Gosh, I ain’t superstitious, but I kind of wish I’d fallen over that
a little while back. It would have made me feel better, sort of given
me courage an’ good luck when I needed it, Ellen.’
‘Ezra Sewell, answer my questions. Who----’
‘Hold on there an’ give me a chance. I can do it, I guess, all to
once. Just between you an’ me, there was lots of them things I _said_
that wasn’t true. No one saw him so much as I made out they did!’
‘What? But you did say----’
‘Yep, I said a lot. Some of it was true, about the oil an’ the proof
of his searchin’ your house an’ such, but I figured it might not be
enough to make him confess, so, seein’ as I was pretty sure just how
he did things, I sort of dressed up my story a bit, added some frills
an’ guesses, like. An’ it worked fine, Ellen B.!’
‘You mean--a lot of it was bluff?’
‘It sure was--an’ I was kind of scared at first--till I got goin’
good, an’ then my tongue wagged all of itself! But if I hadn’t been
such a slow poke, lettin’ myself get all balled up over simple
things----’
‘That’s not true,’ interrupted Mrs. Bascom softly. ‘You know it
isn’t, Ezra. You handled it just right, as events have proved. But
about King’s partner. How did you know this man killed him too?’
‘I didn’t--hadn’t the least idea. Fact is, I didn’t even mean to
imply it, only my tongue got waggin’ the more scared he looked, an’
then he took my words for an accusation himself! I guess that part’ll
be up to that smart Bartrum or some one to check up. Wonder why he
didn’t come? Oh, well, I suppose he had somethin’ bigger to tend to,
perhaps, an’ didn’t want to bother with country inspectors. I ain’t
worried he missed the show--not now.’
‘The credit fell where it was due, I’d say, if you asked _me_,’
retorted Mrs. Bascom seriously.
‘Now, Ellen, cut out that flatterin’ business or you’ll have me
blushin’,’ muttered Sewell, abashed.
At that moment he lived up to his prophecy by flushing a beet red,
but not because of her words. They had turned upon reaching the road,
retracing their steps past the house toward the barn. As Sewell
spoke, they had just reached a point opposite the den, and both
involuntarily looked in. Through the open window could be seen the
back of a chair with two heads just visible above it, one bobbed, the
other carelessly tousled, but so close to each other that duller eyes
might have taken them for one head!
‘My land, come away from that,’ muttered Sewell, seizing Mrs. Bascom
by the arm. ‘I’ll be darned if you ain’t brought me here on purpose,
like a sentimental--a sentimental----Well, anyway, this ain’t no
place for you an’ me.’
He was breathing unnecessarily hard and his face grew almost purple.
Mrs. Bascom’s silent smile was disconcerting.
‘That’s a woman--all over,’ continued Ezra. ‘An’ the older they
get----’
‘Seems to me you remarked I wasn’t so very old--not to you,’
interrupted Mrs. Bascom slyly.
‘You ain’t--only--you’re old enough to know better.’
Sewell was flustered. This new mood of hers upset him. She had not
risen to the bait of any of his taunts of late, and seemed almost
a stranger to him with her compliments and flattery. It made him
uncomfortable, at a loss to understand her or know what to answer.
But he strove manfully to steer the conversation into safer channels.
‘I ain’t had time to thank you, Ellen, for all you did. Without you
I’d have been helpless an’----’
‘Ezra Sewell, I’ve never told a man to shut up before, but I’m doing
it now! If you say another word about my acting like a fool, I
declare I’ll--I’ll cut you dead when we meet again.’
Ezra chuckled with relief. He felt on firmer ground now.
‘It certain sure would be a tragedy if that happened, Ellen B. Don’t
know as I could get along on the plain victuals of life without any
of your sass, if you know what I mean!’
She did, and tossed her head, her anger rising in spite of herself.
‘Oh, a shrew, am I? Well, if that’s what appeals to you, I’ll do my
best to give full meals of it, Ezra Sewell. Of all the insults I ever
received from you, that’s the worst. If you can’t think of anything
better to say----’
‘Maybe I could if I tried hard,’ he drawled as she turned to walk
away. ‘But I’d kind of like to know if what you said is a threat or a
promise--that sass with my meals part?’
She whirled about, her eyes snapping, her jaw set. But before she
could speak, he repeated his question quizzically, and now that she
saw his eyes, she read a different meaning in it.
‘Three times a day--at meals--like a prescription. Do you mean it,
Ellen? Three meals a day together--you an’ me----’
Her mouth opened in astonishment, closed with a snap, then curved
into a smile as she seemed to make a discovery.
‘It may be the most fool trick I ever did, Ezra Sewell, but I guess I
do!’
Just at that moment, Sylvia and Ruel looked up and saw them. Ruel did
not blush as Sewell had done a short time ago. Instead he shamelessly
grinned and watched the arm of the law doing its duty--until it
suddenly occurred to him to follow the good example set by his elders!
THE END
Transcriber’s Notes
Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been
silently corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences
within the text and consultation of external sources. On page 164,
“But Sewall noted” has been replaced with “But Sewell noted.” Other
than that, original spellings in the text and inconsistent or archaic
usage have been retained.
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.