"Yessir. She ate real hearty, and when I went in de lib'ry after dinner, she was jes' as peaceful an' ca'm, a-sittin' in that great easy chair o' hers as if she never had had no words with Miss Kitty." "Oh, so Miss Baird had words with Miss Kitty--and who might Miss Kitty be?" A startled look flitted across Ted Rodgers' face, to be gone the next instant. He had followed the testimony of each witness with undivided attention, answering only in monosyllables the muttered remarks made to him occasionally by Ben Potter, whose expression of boredom had given place to more lively interest at sight of Oscar on his way to the witness chair. "Who am Miss Kitty?" asked Oscar in scandalized surprise. "Why, Miss Baird's niece. They live together, leastwise they did 'till yesterday. Poor ole Miss, she didn't mean no harm--" "No harm to whom?" questioned Penfield swiftly. "To Miss Kitty. She jes' said she wouldn't have no such carrying-on," explained Oscar. "To what did she refer?" Oscar favored the coroner with a blank stare. "I dunno, Sah. That's all o' de conversation that I overheard." Penfield regarded him attentively, but the old man's gaze did not waver, and after a moment he resumed his examination. "How long have you worked for Miss Baird?" "'Most twenty years, Sah." "And what did you do for her?" "I cooked, waited on de table, tended de fires and de garden, cleaned de house, an' run errands," ended Oscar with a flourish, and Penfield had difficulty in suppressing a smile. Oscar's rheumatic legs did not suggest an agile errand boy. "Who were the other servants?" "Weren't none," tersely. "Miss Baird, she wouldn't keep no yeller help, so Mandy, my wife, washed de clothes, an' I done de rest." "Did you and Mandy sleep in Miss Baird's house?" "No, Sah. We lives in our own house, two blocks away." "What were your working hours?" "Hey?" Oscar stroked his wooly head reflectively. "'Most all day," he volunteered finally. "Mandy had one o' her spells yesterday mawnin' an' I had ter get a doctah fo' her, an' that's why I never reached Miss Baird's 'til 'bout noon." "I see." Penfield sat back in his chair and fumbled with his watch charm. Oscar as a witness was a disappointment, whatever his accomplishments as an all-round servant. "At what hour did you leave Miss Baird's on Sunday?" "'Bout half-past two," answered Oscar, after due thought. "And whom did you leave in the house?" "Miss Baird and her niece, Miss Kitty." "No one else--no visitor?" "No, Sah." "Think again, Oscar. Remember, you are under oath. Did either Miss Baird or Miss Kitty Baird have callers before you left on Sunday afternoon?" "No, Sah, they did not, not while I was there." Penfield pushed back his chair and rose. "That will do, Oscar, you are excused. Hume," to the Morgue Master. "Call Miss Katrina Baird." CHAPTER VI TESTIMONY