VIII - CONFESSION––––––––
BEFORE Sam Appleby left the next morning, he confided to Keefe that he had little if any faith in the detective prowess of the two men investigating the case.
“When I come back,” he said, “I may bring a real detective, and—I may not. I want to think this thing over first—and, though I may be a queer d**k, I’m not sure I want the slayer of my father found.”
“I see,” and Keefe nodded his head understandingly.
But Jeffrey Allen demurred. “You say that, Mr. Appleby, because you think one of the Wheeler family is the guilty party. But I know better. I know them so well——”
“Not as well as I do,” interrupted Appleby, “and neither do you know all the points of the feud that has festered for so many years. If you’ll take my advice, Mr. Allen, you’ll delay action until
