Marion," said Helen with an evident effort at
self-control. "I didn't mean to intrude. I hope you'll forgive me for
something quite unintentional."

"Certainly, Helen," Marion replied generously, "and since a chance
look has informed you of the nature of these letters and I want to
talk this affair over with somebody, I think I may as well talk it
over with you. Let's go down to the other end of the car where we
aren't likely to be disturbed."

Accordingly they moved up to the front of the car where they took
possession of two chairs and soon were so deeply absorbed in the
problem at hand as to excite the wonder and curiosity of the other
Camp Fire Girls.

Marion handed the two anonymous letters to her friend without
introductory remark, and the latter read them. As Marion watched the
expression on the reader's face, she was forced to admit to herself
that right then, under those seemingly impersonal circumstances,
Helen's habitual strangeness of manner was more pronounced than she
had ever before known it to be. This girl of impenetrable secrecy read
the letters, seemingly with an abstraction amounting almost to
inattention, while physically she appeared to shrink from something
that to her alone was visible and real.

As she finished reading, Helen looked up at her friend and the gaze of
penetrating curiosity that she saw in Marion's eyes caused her to
blush with confusion. Unable to meet her friend's gaze steadily, she
shifted her eyes toward the most uninteresting part of the car, the
floor, and said:

"That looks like a dangerous letter. It ought to be turned over to the
police as soon as possible."

"Both of them, don't you think?" Marion inquired.

"Why? I don't see anything in this shorter one. My guess would be that
it was written by your cousin or one of his friends."

"But do you notice the way they both end?--the same words," Marion
insisted.

"Yes, I noticed that," Helen replied slowly. But that is such a
common, ordinary expression, almost like 'a,' 'an,' or 'the,' that it
doesn't mean much to me here. Where are the letters postmarked?"

"Both in Westmoreland."

"That's something in favor of your suspicion that both letters were
written by the same person," Helen admitted. "Still it doesn't
convince me. You wouldn't expect the Spring Lake boys to mail a letter
like the shorter one at Spring Lake, would you? That would stamp its
identity right away."

"You are sure those letters were writte