"
"Miss Rushford had the note in her desk," said Vernon, shortly. "She
missed it last night and went to tell her sister of the theft. When she
returned to her room and began a systematic search, she found it slipped
among some note-paper in the drawer where she had placed it. She
returned it to me this morning."
"Without suspecting that it was a forgery?"
"Certainly."
"And you didn't tell her?"
"No."
Collins sat for a moment staring down at the note.
"Which reminds me," he remarked, at last, "that Markeld spent the
evening with the Rushfords."
"Well, what of it?" demanded Vernon, sharply, wheeling around. "What is
it you mean to insinuate?"
"My dear sir," answered Collins, suavely, "I insinuate nothing. I was
merely remarking upon the coincidence. If I did not happen to know all
the circumstances, I might have been led to suggest that, as only one
Miss Rushford is devoted to you--"
Vernon sprang to his feet with such wrath in his face that Collins
stopped abruptly.
"It was well you stopped," said Vernon, savagely. "Another word, and by
heaven--"
"Don't be a fool!" Collins broke in. "I'm not afraid of you nor your
threats. This forgery, of course, is the work of that French spy--"
A servant tapped at the door and handed in a card.
Collins took it, glanced at it, and looked up with a little smile of
satisfaction.
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