You asked to see all who are
here now. There is only one who has left, the cook, Bridget
Fallon. She left a couple of days ago--said she was going back to
New York to get another job. Glad enough I was to get rid of her,
too, for she was drunk most of the time after the typhoid
appeared."
"Well, Walter, I guess we shall have to go back to New York
again, then," exclaimed Kennedy. "Oh, I beg pardon, Mrs. Rawson,
for interrupting. Thank you ever so much. Where did Bridget come
from?"
"She came well recommended, sir. Here is the letter in my
writing-desk. She had been employed by the Caswell-Joneses at
Shelter Island before she came here."
"I may keep this letter" asked Craig, scanning it quickly.
"Yes."
"By the way, where were the bottles of spring water kept"
"In the kitchen."
"Did Bridget take charge of them?"
"Yes."
"Did Mr. Bisbee have any guests during the last week that he was
here?"
"Only Mr. Denny one night."
"H'm!" exclaimed Craig. "Well, it will not be so hard for us to
unravel this matter, after all, when we get back to the city. We
must make that noon train, Walter. There is nothing more for us
to do here."
Emerging from the "Tube" at Ninth Street, Craig hustled me into a
taxicab, and in almost no time we were at police headquarters.
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