quivered. "He had been so loyal--so
faithful--I could not be less true to him, even if, as I feared, my own
dear father was guilty of the crime."

Kent turned and faced Sylvester, who had made a few shuffling steps
toward the door.

"You have done incalculable harm by your criminal acts," he said
sternly. "But for your lying and trickery Jimmie Turnbull would be alive
to-day. I trust the Court will give you the maximum sentence."

Sylvester eyed him insolently. "I've had a run for my money, and I stood
to win large sums if things had only gone right," he announced; then
addressed Helen directly. "What did you do with the securities?"

"I put the envelope back in the open safe when I was here early this
afternoon," she explained.

An oath ripped from Sylvester. "I mistook you for your sister," he
snarled. "Had I known it was you, I'd have wrung the securities from
you."

Helen stared at his suddenly contorted face. "Ah, you are the man who
looked in at the window of the reception room yesterday morning when I
was talking to Mr. Kent," she cried. "I recognize you now."

He continued to glare at her. "I also sent you a note by your sister
outside the Caf St. Marks to secrete the letter 'B'," his voice rose
almost into a shout in his ungovernable rage. "I heard Turnbull tell you
to take the envelope to Rochester, and I banked on your bringing it here
or to his apartment. D-mn you! You've thwarted me at every turn."

Rochester's powerful hand was clapped across his mouth with such force
that the clerk staggered against Ferguson.

"Here you, out you go." The detective shoved the struggling man toward
the door leading into the corridor and Clymer sprang to his assistance;
a second later Rochester closed the door on their receding figures and
found Helen standing by his elbow.

"I must go," she said, turning back to look at her father and his bride.

"Wait a minute." Kent held up an envelope with its fateful red seal.
"This was delivered empty at Rochester's apartment last night--it is
addressed to him. Who wrote it?"

"I did," exclaimed Mrs. McIntyre. "I felt I must consult either you,
Mr. Kent, or Mr. Rochester, so I sent the note to his apartment, but the
messenger boy hurried me, and it was not until hours later that I found
the note lying on the desk in the reception room and realized I had sent
an empty envelope."

"I see." Kent held up another envelope, the red seal broken at the
corner. "This is yours,