Did you make your regular
deposit that day, and where?"

"We keep our account at the Bank of Commerce. But that afternoon I
overlooked a package of bills in large denominations. I sent another
messenger over to the bank, but it was after three o'clock and the
deposit was refused. The boy brought the money back to me--the package
contained fifty thousand dollars."

"And then?"

"I don't know. I might have locked it up in our own safe or carried it
home with me or pitched it out of the window. It is all a blank."

"Did you stay at the office later than usual that day?"

"Yes; I was busy with some of Mr. Sandford's private affairs, and that
delayed me until all the others had gone. I left about five o'clock."

"And now who is V. S.? Pardon me, but the question is necessary."

"Miss Valentine Sandford--Mr. Sandford's daughter. I was engaged to be
married to her."

"Since when?"

"I had proposed and was waiting for my answer. Then that very day she
sent me a telegram. It contained the single word 'yes' and was signed
by her initials. It came at the same moment that the messenger brought
back the money from the bank."

"And it is the same V. S, who sends this message?" asked Indiman,
smoothing out the telegraph blank which he held in his hand.

The young man took a bundle of papers from his breast-pocket. They were
all telegraphic messages, and each was a suggestion towards
self-destruction in one form or another. "Suicide's corner" at Niagara,
poison, the rope--all couched in language of devilish ingenuity in
innuendo, and ending in every instance with the expression, "Is life
more than honor? Answer. V. S."

"I have had at least one every day," said the young man. "Sometimes two
or three. Generally in the morning, but they also come at any hour."

"And Miss Sandford?"

"I wrote and told her of my terrible misfortune, released her from the
unannounced engagement, and begged her to believe in me until I could
clear myself. I have not seen her since the fatal day of the 15th of
January."

"And you have received from her only these--these messages?"

"That is all."

"And you think they come from her?"

"No; or I should have killed myself long ago. But there are times when
I have to take a tight hold on myself; to-day is one of them," he
added, very simply.

"Mr. Sydenham," said Indiman, solemnly, "I now know you to be an
innocent man. Had it been otherwise you would long since have succumbed
under this