Now we’ll look after this here Captain Sherry.”
I went down to the village with him. At the post office we learned that Sherry had left a forwarding address: General Delivery, St. Louis, Mo. The postmaster said Sherry had received no mail during his stay in Farewell.
We went to the telegraph office, and were told that Sherry had neither received nor sent any telegrams. I sent one to the agency’s St. Louis branch.
The rest of our poking around in the village brought us nothing—except we learned that most of the idlers in Farewell had seen Sherry and Marcus board the southbound two-ten train.
Before we returned to the Kavalov house a telegram came from the Los Angeles branch for me:
Sherry’s trunks and bags in baggage room here not yet called for are keeping them under surveillance.
When we got back to the house I met Ringgo in the hall, and asked him:
“Is Sherry left-handed?”
He thought, and then shook his head. “I can’t remember,” he said. “He might be. I’ll ask Miriam. Perhaps she’ll know—women remember things like that.”
When he came downstairs again he was nodding:
“He’s very nearly ambidextrous, but uses his left hand more than his right. Why?”
“The doctor thinks it was done with a left hand. How is Mrs. Ringgo now?”