I'm going now, but I will leave a half-dozen men on the place.
Don't talk; don't let your brother talk. Who is the old woman
crying in the sitting room?"

"It is Aunt Ann," Elinor explained. "She is really no relation.
Her husband used to work here, and after he was killed she stayed
on and took care of things for mother. Then when mother died,
why, of course she stayed. She is all alone in the world. She
has or had a son, but he disappeared a good while ago. He was a
very bad boy. The last she heard from him he was in South
America. We think he is dead. Poor Aunt Ann! She loves Lester
as thought he were her own child. I think she would die for
him."

"She is all right then," mused the detective. "Well, I'll get
along, Miss Pomeroy. Just keep cool."

Elinor followed him to the door and stood leaning against the big
porch pillar as the detective crunched briskly down the gravel
path. A group of men came hurrying up to meet him, and Elinor
listened eagerly.

"We got him, Chief!" she heard a voice say triumphantly.
"Walking along the road bold as brass."

"Why shouldn't I?" an angry tone answered. "The street is
public. Ain't I got a right to go long it? What you pinchin' me
for, anyhow? I ain't full and it ain't vagrancy to walk along the
road to Manlius. You leave me go!"