The old man, it seems, had
a curious way of tapping with his stick."
Here Mr. Rogers looked at me, and I nodded.
"Where was the landlord when he heard this?" asked Miss Belcher.
"That, my dear Lydia, was naturally the next question I put to him.
'Why, in this very room,' said he, 'now I come to think of it.'
'Well, then,' said I, 'how long did you stay in this room after the
prisoner (as we'll call him) had taken his leave?' 'Not a minute,'
said he; 'no, nor half a minute. Indeed, I believe we walked out
into the passage together, and then parted, he going out to the door,
and I up the passage to the taproom.' 'Was Coffin in the taproom
when you reached it?' I asked. 'No,' says Bogue; 'to be sure he
wasn't.' 'Why, then, you thickhead,' says I, 'he must have left
while you were talking with the prisoner; and since you heard him go,
the odds are the prisoner heard him, too.' That's the way to get at
evidence, Lydia."
"My dear Jack," said Miss Belcher, "you're an Argus!"
"Well, I flatter myself it was pretty neat," resumed Mr. Rogers,
speaking with his mouth full; "but, as it happens, we don't need it.
For when, as I've told you, we drove around to the ferry at Percuil,
and the ferryman described Coffin and how he'd put him across, the
first question I asked was 'Did you put any one else across that
night?' He said, 'Yes; and not twenty minutes later.
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