ry slowly he pulled the letters out of his pocket, while his keen
eyes searched Sophy's face, gravely. She was distinctly ill at ease,
he observed.

"There has been a queer mix-up. These documents can hardly be called
forgery, since there is no attempt to imitate the real handwriting of
the person who is supposed to have written them. It's simply a clumsy
attempt to deceive, as far as I can see. But the strange thing is that
several letters came from New York, apparently, and have never been
received. It seems that they must have come through this office and
the post-office authorities will be asked to trace them. They are
always glad to hear of any irregularities, of course, and will send an
expert here, naturally, if mere inquiry does not suffice. Those chaps
are wonderfully clever, you know. They seem to be able to find out
anything they want to know. The letters I am showing you came through
Carcajou, there's your stamp on the envelopes. The detective will
compare this handwriting with that of every man, woman and child in
Carcajou and the neighborhood, and while it is certainly disguised,
there's so much of it that they will certainly find out who sent them.
It--it's going to prove devilish tough for somebody, you may be sure.
Of course I'm no lawyer and can't tell what the charge will be,
perhaps conspiracy of some sort, or making use of the mails for some
fraudulent or--or some prohibited purpose. But that's evidently no
concern of ours and I know you'll help the authorities to the best of
your ability. You will naturally do all you can because no postmaster
likes to have any irregularity in his office. That sort of thing
generally means taking it away from the holder and putting it in other
hands. Your father would be pretty angry if anything like that
happened, because while you attend to the mails, he's really the
responsible party."

Miss Sophy may not have realized how keenly the doctor was looking at
her. He was now feeling quite certain that his suspicions had fallen
on the guilty party. Here was a jealous woman who evidently knew a
good deal. Putting two and two together is the very essence of
scientific thought and Dr. Starr was no beginner. Sophy's foot was
beating a rapid tattoo on the floor. On her face the color kept going
and coming.

"Somebody has done a very foolish thing," continued the doctor.
"Perhaps it was not realized that it was also a very wicked one. At
any rate there is a lot of trou