Humorous stories; United States -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Fiction
for me, as you can see for yourself, that this time he only dreamed of
binding and gagging. If he'd dreamed of murder, I'd not be here now to
tell the tale. And it's clean to be seen that your biscuits would of
been an accessory before the fact."
"Then he--"
"Yes, it was him as done it, and without no moral blame attaching to him
a _tall_. If he'd killed me, the law couldn't of touched him either, for
the law takes no account of what a person does while they're asleep. But
as you made the biscuits in your full senses and with your eyes wide
open, you'd of been the only one to blame."
Mrs. Lathrop groaned. "You know, Sus--" she protested.
"Of course if I was alive, I'd never hold it against you, because I know
very well you can't make biscuits no better, and ain't never had sense
enough to learn. But if I was murdered, my ghost couldn't testify, and I
don't see as how you could be saved from the law taking its course."
At this juncture there was a sound overhead, and both ladies started,
Mrs. Lathrop in surprise and her friend in sudden realization of
neglected duties.
"What is--?" inquired Mrs. Lathrop.
"It's him," answered Susan. "Mr. Kettlewell. And the coffee's boiled now
till it's bitter, and there ain't a single cake on the griddle." She was
turning back to the stove as Mrs. Lathrop's exclamation caught her and
switched her around.
"Why, Susan Clegg!"
"Don't Susan Clegg me, Mrs. Lathrop," she commanded. "There ain't no
Susan Clegg any more. When Susan Clegg disappeared a week ago last
night, she disappeared for good, never to return. And if you suspect
anything else, it's best I should introduce myself here and now,--Susan
Kettlewell, from this time forth, if you please."
Mrs. Lathrop sprang up and dropped back again.
"You don't--"
"I do. I do mean to say I'm married at last. We was wedded with a ring
in New York last Wednesday, and it's my husband's footsteps you hear up
there in the new bathroom."
She dropped three spreading spoonfuls of batter on the greased griddle
and gave Mrs. Lathrop a full minute to absorb the announcement. Then, as
she drew the coffee pot to one side, she continued:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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