an had a thing to do with the
matter. But he has a violent temper at times, and again he is as meek as
any one I ever knew. But say a person did give way to violent passion,
such as I have seen him do at times when something went wrong with the
big, new car, might not such a person, for a fancied wrong, take means
of ending the life of a person who had angered him?"

"I never liked Jean Forette," put in Miss Carwell, "and I was glad when
I heard Horace was to let him go."

"Do you think--do you believe he had anything to do with my father's
death?" asked Viola quickly.

"Not the least in the world," answered the head clerk hastily. "I just
used him as an illustration."

"But he quarreled with my father," the girl went on. "They had words, I
know."

"Yes, they did, and I heard some of them," admitted LeGrand Blossom.
"But that passed over, and they were friendly enough the day of the
golf game. So there could not have been murder in the heart of that
Frenchman. No, I don't mean even to hint at him: hut I believe some one,
angry at, and with a grudge against, your father, ended his life."

"I believe that, too!" declared Viola firmly. "And while I feel, as you
do, about Jean, still it is a clew that must not be overlooked. I'll
tell Colonel Ashley."

"I fancy he knows it already," said LeGrand Blossom. "There isn't much
that escapes that fisherman."

CHAPTER XIII. CAPTAIN POLAND CONFESSES

When LeGrand Blossom had taken his departure, carrying with him the
books and papers, he left behind two very disconsolate persons.

"It's terrible!" exclaimed Mr. Carwell's sister. "To think that poor
Horace could be so careless! I knew his sporting life would bring
trouble, but I never dreamed of this."

"We must face it, terrible as it is," said Viola. "Nothing would matter
if he--if he were only left to us. I'm sure he never meant to spend so
much money. It was just because--he didn't think."

"That always was a fault of his," sighed Miss Mary, "even when a boy.
It's terrible!"

"It's terrible to have him gone and to think of the terrible way he was
taken," sighed Viola. "But any one is likely to lose money."

She no more approved of many of her late father's sporting proclivities
than did her aunt, and there were many rather startling stories and
rumors that came to Viola as mere whispers to which she turned a deaf
ear. Since her mother's death her father had, it was common knowledge,
associated with a fast