ping power.

"I mean them--Mary-Clare and Noreen."

"Hurt them? Why, Jan-an, I'd do anything to help them, make them safe
and happy." Northrup felt as if he and the girl opposite were rapidly
becoming accomplices in a tense plot. "What does all this mean?"

"As God seeing yer, yer mean that?" Jan-an leaned forward.

"God seeing me! Yes, Jan-an."

"Yer ain't hanging around her to do her--dirt?"

"Good Lord, no!" Northrup recoiled. Apparently new anxiety was
overcoming the girl.

Then, by a sudden dash, Jan-an swept the untidy mass of papers over to
him; she abdicated her last stronghold.

"What's them?" she demanded huskily. Northrup brought the smelly
kerosene lamp nearer and as he read he was conscious of Jan-an's
mutterings.

"Stealing her letters--what is letters, anyway? And I've counted and
watched--he's took one to her to-night. Just one. One he has made.
Writing day in and out--tearing up writing--sneaking and lying. God!
And new letters looking like old ones, till I'm fair crazy."

For a few moments Northrup lost the sound of Jan-an's guttural
whimpers, then he caught the words:

"And her crying and wanting the letters. Just letters!" Northrup again
became absorbed.

He placed certain old sheets on one side of the table; newer sheets on
the other; some half sheets in the middle. It was like an intricate
puzzle, and the same one that Maclin had recently tackled.

That he was meddling with another's property and reading another's
letters did not seem to occur to Northrup. He was held by a determined
force that was driving him on and an intense interest that justified
any means at his disposal.

"Some day I will read my old doctor's letters to you--I have kept them
all!"

Northrup looked up. Almost he believed Jan-an had voiced the words,
but they had been spoken days ago by Mary-Clare during one of those
illuminating talks of theirs and here _were_ some old letters of the
doctor's. Were these Mary-Clare's letters? Why were they here and in
this state?

Suddenly Northrup's face stiffened. The old, yellowed letters were,
apparently, from Doctor Rivers to his son! But there were other
letters on bits of fresh paper, the handwriting identical, or nearly
so. Northrup's more intelligent eye saw differences. The more recent
letters were, evidently, exercises; one improved on the other; in some
cases parts of the letters were repeated. All these Northrup sorted
and laid in neat piles.

"She set a s