went to this state detective, and found that Pinkham did know of the matter, but apparently was so little concerned that he had not even thought it necessary to warn Spofford. In fact, the state detective expressed himself of the opinion that it was a trumped-up story sold by Sargeant to ingratiate himself with the police department, for this man, the detective told Spofford, was an ex-convict with a bad criminal record.
According to his own story, Mr. Spofford did nothing further until Sargeant came again to call upon him, and when he again beheld the square-set, brutal-featured man in his office he was greatly alarmed. Sargeant had come to tell him that the men, Miller and Libbey, were pressing him to complete his work; that he had put them off, saying their man was already dead; but they had sent an agent to his office and now accused Sargeant of playing false with them.
Spofford conferred again with the state detective and on that official’s advice disappeared. He chose a strange place to conceal himself. Mr. Spofford actually took the drive on the lonely road with the ex-convict and went with him to his house in Cambridgeport. Sargeant did not even ask him to pay for the hired horse and buggy. Spofford remained in the home of the saloon-keeper of Sudbury street for two weeks, reading the papers in which he was advertised as lost and later as lying in the morgue, never venturing to come forth and disclose his whereabouts to his anxious friends. This strange proceeding would seem to indicate that the depraved
