YOU have got a head on your shoulders--and you understand what I mean."
Mr. Franklin composed himself, and came back with an effort from Miss
Rachel to the matter in hand.
"I think I do understand," he said. "The more we narrow the question of
time, the more we also narrow the field of inquiry."
"That's it, sir," said the Sergeant. "Did you notice your work here, on
the Wednesday afternoon, after you had done it?"
Mr. Franklin shook his head, and answered, "I can't say I did."
"Did you?" inquired Sergeant Cuff, turning to me.
"I can't say I did either, sir."
"Who was the last person in the room, the last thing on Wednesday
night?"
"Miss Rachel, I suppose, sir."
Mr. Franklin struck in there, "Or possibly your daughter, Betteredge."
He turned to Sergeant Cuff, and explained that my daughter was Miss
Verinder's maid.
"Mr. Betteredge, ask your daughter to step up. Stop!" says the Sergeant,
taking me away to the window, out of earshot, "Your Superintendent
here," he went on, in a whisper, "has made a pretty full report to me
of the manner in which he has managed this case. Among other things,
he has, by his own confession, set the servants' backs up.
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