xpert I can give you the name of the cleverest man
in England."

"Can you?" Anstice's notebook was out in a second. "Thanks very much--I
will write to him to-morrow. But in my own mind I have not a shadow of
doubt that the same person wrote them both."

"By the way"--Carey spoke slowly--"how many people about here would be
likely to know the story you have told me to-night? Out in India, of
course, there might be some who would remember such a tragic episode.
But it's a far cry from Alostan to Littlefield."

"The only people in the neighbourhood who have heard the true story are,
so far as I know, Sir Richard Wayne and"--he hesitated--"and his
daughter, who is now Mrs. Cheniston."

"I see." Fraser Carey's eyes had noted the change of tone as Anstice
spoke the last name; and his quick humanism was stirred by the pitiful
idea which crossed his mind. "Sir Richard's daughter knew the story?
And--may we conclude that her husband would naturally share her
knowledge?"

"Naturally--yes." He emphasized the word. "You see I omitted to tell you
that the girl I--the girl who was with me in the hut was engaged to this
very man, Bruce Cheniston, whom Miss Wayne eventually married."

"Was she, indeed?" Carey was really surprised. "What a strange
coincidence that you should meet again--as I suppose you met--in
Littlefield."

"We met, yes," said Anstice, his eyes growing fierce at the remembrance
of their meeting. "But--well, as you will readily see, none of those
persons is in the least likely to have anything to do with the letters
we are discussing. I daresay Mrs. Carstairs may possibly know the
story--if her brother saw fit to hand it on to her. But so far as I know
they are the only people who do know it, and naturally we can write all
of them off the list of suspects at once."

"Quite so. I wonder"--Carey rose as he spoke--"I wonder if anyone else
has received one of those shameful letters? Of course should the matter
go no further there is not much real harm done, though of course----"

"Whether there are other letters or not the matter is going to be
thoroughly investigated," said Anstice resolutely; and Carey experienced
a disturbing and quite unusual pang of regret for his own vanished youth
and strength as he heard the ring of determination in the other man's
voice, noted the firm set of his lips and the proud and dauntless
gesture with which he threw back his head, his black eyes sparkling.

"Well, I shall follow