attempted description, became at once more natural, and therefore
more courteous.

"Do you think you can find her with such insufficient data? A
woman dressed in purple, leading a little child without any hat?"

"Judge, I not only feel sure that I can find her, but I think she
is found already. Do you remember the old tavern on the Rushville
road? I believe they call it an inn now, or some such fancy name."

The judge sat quiet, but the sergeant who dared not peer too
closely, noticed a sudden constriction in the fingers of the hand
with which his host fingered a paper-cutter lying on the table
between them.

"The one where--"

"I respect your hesitation, judge. Yes, the one run by the man you
sentenced--"

A gesture had stopped him. He waited respectfully for the judge's
next words.

They came quickly and with stern and solemn emphasis.

"For a hideous and wholly unprovoked crime. Why do you mention it
and--and his tavern?"

"Because of something I have lately heard in its connection. You
know that the old house has been all made over since that time and