It was to the Empire
Consolidated Savings Bank that she had sent the money which she had
received from her brother in Buenos Aires; and Homer T. Ward, the
president of that bank, was one of her old pupils. Why, her stranger
guest, in the other room there, was that very moment wearing one of the
bank president's nightshirts.
"And do you"--Auntie Sue addressed the detective--"do you know the man's
name, Mr. Ross?"
"Oh, yes," returned the officer, "his name is Brian Kent."
Some source of strength, deep-hidden in her gentle nature, enabled
Auntie Sue to control her emotions, though her voice broke a little as
she slowly repeated the man's name, "Brian Kent. And do I understand,
sir, that you have traced the man to this--neighborhood?"
The detective was too skilled not to notice Auntie Sue's manner and the
break in her voice; but he never dreamed that this old gentlewoman's
agitation was caused by a deeper interest than a quite natural fear that
a dangerous criminal might be lurking in the immediate vicinity.
"Not exactly, Mrs.--ah--"
"Miss Wakefield,"--she supplied her name with a smile.
With a courteous bow, the detective continued: "We do not know for sure
that the man is in this neighborhood, Miss Wakefield. There is really no
cause for you to be alarmed. Even if he should call at your house, here,
you need not be frightened, for I assure you the man is not at all a
dangerous character.
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