A Clew in a Dream
A Detective Who Firmly Believes in the Truth of Visions
[From the Omaha Bee]
“This thing happened some ten years ago,” said the detective. “I was living in Alton, Ill., or rather was visiting there, resting up after a hard winter’s work. The month was May, and the weather was simply perfect. I spent most of my time out of doors, hunting, fishing, and having a good time generally. Yes, I was better looking then that I am now, and I used to be quite a favorite with the girls. Perhaps I am yet—I don’t know. But that’s neither here nor there. One of the young ladies with whom I became acquainted was a fair being whom I shall call Ida. Pretty? Yes. Take my word for it, a more charming creature never lived. She was beautiful in form, face, and, as I thought, in intellect and character. About her past history I never learned much, except that she was an orphan, had been born and raised in St. Louis, and was living with an aunt in Alton, an old, ugly, peevish vixen, who always reminded me of a horrible dragon.
“One morning in May, I shall never forget the date, the 15th of the month—the quiet little town was startled by the news that a terrible tragedy had been committed. Ida’s aunt had been found murdered in her bed that morning. My professional instincts were aroused at once, and I hurried to the house where the murdered woman lay. Ida admitted me. I expected to find her in spasms of agonies, or at least terribly wrought up over the awful occurrence which had bereft her of the only relative she had in the world. But no, she was strangely cold and calm, and even smiled as she gave assent to my request to be led to the room where the murdered aunt lay.
“‘You, too, are curious,’ she said. ‘Well, I’ll show you the way,’ and she tripped lightly… Read More