speculating on the possibility that his cousin had been murdered
by a woman. And, to be sure, a woman was now in the case--Mrs. Mallett.
If only he knew why Mrs. Mallett went to see the doctor and the
Mayor....

But that, after all, was mere speculation, and he had a busy morning
before him, in relation to his election business. He had been
continuously engaged all the time when at three o'clock he hurried to
the Castle Grounds to meet Queenie. He found her in her usual haunt, a
quiet spot in the angle of a wall, where she was accustomed to sit and
read.

"Well, and why 'urgent'?" asked Brent as he dropped on the seat at her
side.

"To make sure that you'd come," retorted Queenie. "Didn't want to leave
it to chance."

"I'm here!" said Brent. "Go ahead with the business."

"Did you see the _Monitor_ last night and that facsimile they gave away
with it?" inquired Queenie.

"I did! Saw the facsimile before it was published. Peppermore showed it
to me."

"Very well--that's the urgent business. I know whose machine that
letter--the original, I mean--was typed on!"

"You do? Great Scott! Whose, then?"

"Uncle Simon Crood's! Fact!"

"Whew! So the old fossil's got such a modern invention as a typewriter,
has he? And you think----"

"Don't think--I know! He's had a typewriter for years; it's an
old-fashioned thing, a good deal worn out. He rarely uses it, but now
and then he operates, with one finger, slowly. And that letter
originated from him--his machine."

"Proof!" said Brent.

Queenie took up a book that lay on the seat between them and from it
extracted a folded copy of the _Monitor's_ facsimile. She leaned nearer
to Brent.

"Now look!" she said. "Do you notice that two or three of the letters
are broken? That _M_--part of it's gone. That _O_--half made. The top of
that _A_ is missing. More noticeable still--do you see that the small
_t_ there is slanting the wrong way? Well, all that's on Uncle Simon's
machine! I knew where that letter had originated as soon as ever I saw
this facsimile last night."

She laid aside the supplement and once more opening her book produced a
sheet of paper.

"Look at this!" she continued. "When Uncle Simon went out to the tannery
this morning, I just took advantage of his absence to type out the
alphabet on his machine. Now then, you glance over that and compare the
faulty letters with those in the facsimile! What do you say now?"

"You're a smart girl, Queenie!" sai