e could have done it!"

"But you half suspect it was he?"

"I've been afraid of it all along," she said, in an outburst of
confession. "Before I even knew that Uncle John was--murdered--before
you told me, I mean--I felt afraid that something of the kind might
have happened, and since that hour I've been nearly distracted by my
thoughts!"

"Let's take it slowly," said Garrison, in his soothing way. "I imagine
there has been either anger or hatred, spite or pique on the part of
your stepbrother, Foster, towards John Hardy in the past."

"Yes--everything! Uncle John spoiled Foster at first, but when he
found the boy was gambling in Wall Street, he cut him off and refused
to supply him the means to pay off the debts he had contracted. Foster
threatened at the time.

"The breach grew wider. Uncle didn't know he was married to Alice.
Foster wouldn't let me tell. He had used up nearly all of Alice's
money. She refused to mortgage anything more, after I took the
necklaces, on a loan--and if Foster doesn't get ten thousand dollars in
August I don't know what he'll do!"

Garrison was following the threads of this quickly delivered narrative
as best he might. It revealed a great deal, but not all.

"I see," he commented quietly. "But how could Foster hope to profit by
the death of Mr. Hardy?"

Dorothy turned very white again.

"He knew of the will."

"The will that was drawn in your favor?"

"Yes."

"And he thought that you were married, that the conditions of the will
had been fulfilled?"

Dorothy nodded assent.

Garrison's impulse was to push a point in personal affairs and ask if
she had really married some Fairfax, not yet upon the scene. But he
adhered strictly to business.

"What you fear is that Foster, aware that you would become your uncle's
heir, may have hastened your uncle's end, in the hope that when you
came in for the property you would liquidate his debts?"

Dorothy nodded again.

She said: "It is terrible! Do you see the slightest ray of hope?"

Garrison ignored the query for a moment.

"Where is Foster now?"

"No one knows--he seems to have run away--that's one of the worst
things about it."

"But you came over here to warn him," said Garrison.

Dorothy flushed.

"That was my impulse, I admit, when you told me about the cigars. I
hardly knew what else I could do."

"You are very fond of Foster?"

"I am very fond of Alice."

Garrison was glad. He could even have b