His hair was very black , but his eyes were blue -- nice eyes , Grandma thought . She always felt great confidence in a man who had bright , open , blue eyes . Grandpa Sheldon , who had died so long ago , four years after their marriage , had had bright blue eyes . To be sure , he had fair hair , reflected Grandma . It 's real odd to see such black hair with such light blue eyes . Well , he 's real nice looking , and I do n't believe there 's a mite of harm in him . The early autumn night had now fallen and Grandma could not amuse herself by watching the scenery . She bethought herself of the paper Cyrus had given her and took it out of her basket . It was an old weekly a fortnight back . On the first page was a long account of a murder case with scare heads , and into this Grandma plunged eagerly . Sweet old Grandma Sheldon , who would not have harmed a fly and hated to see even a mousetrap set , simply revelled in the newspaper accounts of murders . And the more shocking and cold-blooded they were , the more eagerly did Grandma read of them . This murder story was particularly good from Grandma 's point of view ; it was full of `` thrills . '' A man had been shot down , apparently in cold blood , and his supposed murderer was still at large and had eluded all the efforts of justice to capture him . His name was Mark Hartwell , and he was described as a tall , fair man , with full auburn beard and curly , light hair . `` What a shocking thing ! '' said Grandma aloud . Her companion looked at her with a kindly , amused smile . `` What is it ? '' he asked .
`` Why , this murder at Charlotteville , '' answered Grandma , forgetting , XXXXX her excitement , that it was not safe to talk to people you meet on the train .
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