upon him. Suddenly he turned.

"What is the date of that paper?"

"A few days before Leslie's death. But this notice has appeared many
times since--which will make our task the easier."

"Yes, it will make our task the easier."

Another pause, which was protracted until the silence could almost be
felt. Then Prudence spoke.

"You will stay to tea?"

Iredale pulled himself together.

"No, I think not. The storm has passed, the rain is ceasing. I had
better hurry back home. It will come back on us--the storm, I mean."

The girl looked out of the window.

"Yes, I think it will. Oh, I forgot to tell you. Hervey went over to
see you this afternoon."

Iredale's eyes turned sharply upon the girl.

"Ah, yes, I will go at once. I will call to-morrow and see Mrs.
Malling. Good-bye."

He turned away and abruptly left the room. Prudence looked after him.
She saw him pass out; she saw him go out by the front door and hurry
down the little path which bisected the front garden. She saw him go
round to the stables, and he seemed not to heed the rain which was
still falling lightly. But it was not until she saw him riding away
down the trail that she realized the suddenness of his departure and
the fact that he hadn't even attempted to kiss her.

Iredale's horse received little consideration at its master's hands
on that homeward journey. The animal was ridden almost at racing pace
over the long ten miles of country. And all the way home the words the
girl had spoken were running in his ears with maddening insistence--

"And when we find the author of those words we find his murderer."

She had virtually accused him of murder. For he alone was the author
of those words in the paper. Truly his sins were finding him out.

CHAPTER XIII

BLACKMAIL

As Hervey entered the valley of the ranch he listened for the warning
owl cries. To-day, however, there were none. He smiled to himself as
he noted the fact, for he knew their origin; he knew their object. He
understood that these cries were the alarm of sentries stationed at
certain points to warn those at the ranch of the approach of
strangers. He knew, too, that they were used as signals for other
things. And he admired the ingenuity of Iredale in thus turning the
natural features of the valley to his own uses. Rain was beginning to
fall in great drops, and the thunder of the rising storm had already
made itself heard. He urged his horse forward.

Few men can e