"I wish I could prove that. About three weeks ago I
had a message from Uncle Frank, saying that grandfather was quite ill.
I was to come home. When I got to the Hall grandfather was much
better, and seemed annoyed because my uncle had brought me home
unnecessarily. That very night he was murdered."
"Oh!" she whispered.
"He was shot by some one who fired through the parlor window. It
happened at half-past eleven o'clock, a most unusual time for
grandfather to be about. He was fully dressed when they found him a
few minutes after the shooting. A heavy charge of buckshot had struck
him in the breast. I--I can't tell you any more about that. It was too
horrible."
"I know, I know! Poor David!"
"I was studying in my room up to a short time before the shot was
fired. The house was very still. Uncle Frank was downstairs with
granddaddy. I couldn't imagine what kept them up so long, talking.
Finally I heard Uncle Frank go upstairs to his room. Grandfather was
pacing the parlor floor; I could hear the stumping. Finally he came
out in the hall and called to me. I hurried downstairs. He was very
much agitated.
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