CHAPTER VII.
FATHER AND SON.
An almost imperceptible raising of the eyebrows by
the elder man, and Ralph Felton turns quickly to the
coroner.
"Really, Mr. Lord, I cannot furnish a detailed statement of my every movement during the last week," he says, nonchalantly. "I witnessed the procession, or at least the local post, on its way to the depot to meet the Ruggbury contingent, and later went to the Exchange for dinner. In the afternoon I was in the billiard room of the hotel, and I believe I visited the postoffice in the evening."
"What time did you last see Mr. Hathaway?" The persistence of the coroner in questioning the bookkeeper is inexplicable to the audience, who have not observed the little slips of paper that State's Attorney Brown has passed along the table to Mr. Lord.
"About noon on the day of the murder."
"Where?"
Ralph Felton is for the first time manifesting signs of impatience. "He was in the bank. I went to get something which I had left there, and while I was there Mr. Hathaway came in. I left him there and a short time afterward saw him in the procession."
"Mr. Felton, where were you between 7:45 and 8:30 o'clock the evening of Tuesday?"
A dull red replaces the slight pallor on the face of the young man.
"Mr. Lord, I cannot say where I was during that particular time. I have my own personal reasons—not connected with this case, I assure you—for not desiring to answer your question."
The murmur which has begun to overspread the room is quickly but only temporarily hushed as the coroner announces:
