"To be sure. And yet"--with a little bow to her--"I know there are some Dickson County farm-houses that do not have such roller towels." He gave it a pull to expose its full length again. "Those towels get dirty awful quick. Men's hands aren't always as clean as they might be." "Ah, loyal to your sex, I see," he laughed. He stopped and gave her a keen look. "But you and Mrs. Wright were neighbors. I suppose you were friends, too." Martha Hale shook her head. "I've seen little enough of her of late years. I've not been in this house--it's more than a year." "And why was that? You didn't like her?" "I liked her well enough," she replied with spirit. "Farmers' wives have their hands full, Mr. Henderson. And then--" She looked around the kitchen. "Yes?" he encouraged. "It never seemed a very cheerful place," said she, more to herself than to him. "No," he agreed; "I don't think any one would call it cheerful. I shouldn't say she had the home-making instinct." "Well, I don't know as Wright had, either," she muttered. "You mean they didn't get on very well?" he was quick to ask. "No; I don't mean anything," she answered, with decision. As she turned a little away from him, she added: "But I don't think a place would be any the cheerfuler for John Wright's bein' in it." "I'd like to talk to you about that a little later, Mrs. Hale," he said. "I'm anxious to get the lay of things upstairs now." He moved toward the stair door, followed by the two men. "I suppose anything Mrs. Peters does'll be all right?" the sheriff inquired. "She was to take in some clothes for her, you know--and a few little things. We left in such a hurry yesterday." The county attorney looked at the two women whom they were leaving alone there among the kitchen things. "Yes--Mrs. Peters," he said, his glance resting on the woman who was not Mrs. Peters, the big farmer woman who stood behind the sheriff's wife. "Of course Mrs. Peters is one of us," he said, in a manner of entrusting responsibility. "And keep your eye out Mrs. Peters, for anything that might be of use. No telling; you women might come upon a clue to the motive--and that's the thing we need." Mr. Hale rubbed his face after the fashion of a show man getting ready for a pleasantry. "But would the women know a clue if they did come upon it?" he said; and, having delivered himself of this, he followed the others through the stair door. * * * The women stood motionless and silent, listening to the footsteps, first upon the stairs, then in the room above them. Then, as if releasing herself from something strange, Mrs. Hale began to arrange the dirty pans under the sink, which the county attorney's disdainful push of the foot had deranged. "I'd hate to have men comin' into my kitchen," she said testily--"snoopin' round and criticizin'." "Of course it's no more than their duty," said the sheriff's wife, in her manner of timid acquiescence.