Thurston - I had almost said my husband, though I don't know whether that is the truth or not - who has just come over from New York, tells me that there is some doubt about the validity of our divorce.
You recall he was in the South at the time I sued him, and the papers were served on him in Georgia.He now says the proof of service was fraudulent and that he can set aside the divorce.In that case you might figure in a suit for alienating my affections.
I do not write this with ill will, but simply to let you know how things stand.If we had married, I suppose I would be guilty of bigamy.At any rate, if he were disposed he could make a terrible scandal.
Oh, Harris, can't you settle with him if he asks anything? Don't forget so soon that we once thought we were going to be the happiest of mortals - at least I did.Don't desert me, or the very earth will cry out against you.I am frantic and hardly know what I am writing.My head aches, but it is my heart that is breaking.
Harris, I am yours still, down in my heart, but not to be cast off like an old suit for a new one.You know the old saying about a woman scorned.I beg you not to go back on Your poor little deserted VERA.
As we finished reading, Leland exclaimed, "That never must come before the jury."Kennedy was examining the letter carefully."Strange," he muttered.
"See how it was folded.It was written on the wrong side of the sheet, or rather folded up with the writing outside.Where have these letters been?""Part of the time in my safe, part of the time this afternoon on my desk by the window.""The office was locked, I suppose?" asked Kennedy."There was no way to slip this letter in among the others since you obtained them?""None.The office has been locked, and there is no evidence of any one having entered or disturbed a thing."He was hastily running over the pile of letters as if looking to see whether they were all there.Suddenly he stopped.
"Yes," he exclaimed excitedly, "one of them is gone." Nervously he fumbled through them again."One is gone," he repeated, looking at us, startled.
"What was it about?" asked Craig.
"It was a note from an artist, Thurston, who gave the address of Mrs.
Boncour's bungalow - ah, I see you have heard of him.He asked Dixon's recommendation of a certain patent headache medicine.Ithought it possibly evidential, and I asked Dixon about it.He explained it by saying that he did not have a copy of his reply, but as near as he could recall, he wrote that the compound would not cure a headache except at the expense of reducing heart action dangerously.He says he sent no prescription.Indeed, he thought it a scheme to extract advice without incurring the charge for an office call and answered it only because he thought Vera had become reconciled to Thurston again.I can't find that letter of Thurston's.
It is gone."
We looked at each other in amazement.
"Why, if Dixon contemplated anything against Miss Lytton, should he preserve this letter from her?" mused Kennedy."Why didn't he destroy it?""That's what puzzles me," remarked Leland."Do you suppose some one has broken in and substituted this Lytton letter for the Thurston letter?
Kennedy was scrutinising the letter, saying nothing."I may keep it?" he asked at length.Leland was quite willing and even undertook to obtain some specimens of the writing of Vera Lytton.With these and the letter Kennedy was working far into the night and long after I had passed into a land troubled with many wild dreams of deadly poisons and secret intrigues of artists.
The next morning a message from our old friend First Deputy O'Connor in New York told briefly of locating the rooms of an artist named Thurston in one of the co-operative studio apartments.Thurston himself had not been there for several days and was reported to have gone to Maine to sketch.He had had a number of debts, but before he left they had all been paid - strange to say, by a notorious firm of Shyster lawyers, Kerr & Kimmel.Kennedy wired back to find out the facts from Kerr & Kimmel and to locate Thurston at any cost.
Even the discovery of the new letter did not shake the wonderful self-possession of Dr.Dixon.He denied ever having received it and repeated his story of a letter from Thurston to which he had replied by sending an answer, care of Mrs.Boncour, as requested.
He insisted that the engagement between Miss Lytton and himself had been broken before the announcement of his engagement with Miss Willard.As for Thurston, he said the man was little more than a name to him.He had known perfectly all the circumstances of the divorce, but had had no dealings with Thurston and no fear of him.
Again and again he denied ever receiving the letter from Vera Lytton.
Kennedy did not tell the Willards of the new letter.The strain had begun to tell on Alma, and her father had had her quietly taken to a farm of his up in the country.To escape the curious eyes of reporters, Halsey Post had driven up one night in his closed car.She had entered it quickly with her father, and the journey had been made in the car, while Halsey Post had quietly dropped off on the outskirts of the town, where another car was waiting to take him back.It was evident that the Willard family relied implicitly on Halsey, and his assistance to them was most considerate.While he never forced himself forward, he kept in close touch with the progress of the case, and now that Alma was away his watchfulness increased proportionately, and twice a day he wrote a long report which was sent to her.
Kennedy was now bending every effort to locate the missing artist.
When he left Danbridge, he seemed to have dropped out of sight completely.However, with O'Connor's aid, the police of all New England were on the lookout.
