hate to hurt Julie's feelings,
but that note doesn't interest me at all,--one way or the other. You
see, if it's a fake,--and I can't help thinking it is, it's somewhat in
my favor, for if faked must it not have been done by the real murderer,
trying to put the blame on me? And if it's real--but, I never discuss
that sort of thing at all. I'm not a believer,--as the Cranes believe,
and yet, feeling toward the Crane family as I do, I refuse to combat
their beliefs or principles. So, as I say, I leave the note out of my
consideration. And, yet, Carlotta, I do want your opinion as to the
genuineness of the handwriting, because you know Peter's fist so
well,--and you're even less likely to be deceived than his family."

Carly scrutinized the note again.

"It seems to me it must be Peter's writing," she said at last. "Those
long tails to the filial letters of the words, those are characteristic.
And it's--yes, it's unmistakably his."

"All right," Thorpe sighed. "I just wanted to know, for Mr. Crane will
know of it sooner or later, and I'm sure he'll identify it as Peter's
writing.

"And it surely is," Julie added, again staring at the paper.

"But, Julie, it's _too_ absurd!" Second thoughts convinced Carly of
this. "How could such a thing happen?"

"I don't know how it could, but it did," Julie said, doggedly. "And so,
Carly, I feel, as Mac says, there's no attention to be paid to this
note. If--mind I say _if_--Peter sent it, why then Peter thinks Mac did
something that he didn't do, that's all. I know Mac is innocent, and so
I shall say nothing of this note to any one, and you mustn't either."

"I won't," Carly smiled to herself as she realized how many secrets she
was accumulating, "but you will, Julie. You can't keep that from your
father, even though you mean to."

"Yes, I can, if to tell of it would cast a straw of evidence against
Mac! You see, Carly, we've got to find the real criminal, and I'd rather
do it myself than get a new detective on the job."

Carly knew this was because Julie feared the astuteness of the new
detective. Which, in turn, meant that Julie, herself, feared Mac's
guilt. Oh, it was a tightly closing net round Mac, as she saw it!

"I wish I could help," she found herself saying, most unconsciously, so
deeply was she thinking. "But, Julie, you two can do nothing. What are
you expecting to accomplish?"

"Success," Thorpe made reply. "Complete success. It may sound absurd,
but I think t