Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 4 — page 170: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

676 some discord between you which succeeded admirably. But all this explanation, while it may assist you in understanding my actions better, is not my chief object in writing. In spite of the fact that Shirley has no love for me, there was enough coincidence in our being together to lay her open to the charge of being in col- lusion with me. In fact, I purposely fostered this idea in order to keep your mind off my own actions. It was necessary that you should be suspicious of each other, and so I used every possible means to that end, hinting to her that your real object in proposing to divide the inheritance was that you feared to lose all and preferred half to none. You, ef course, remember that I created a like impression of distrust and her unfair- ness in your mind. I flatter myself that it was one of the best pieces of work I have done, but now that the need for it is over, it seems to me wisest to undeceive you. Shirley may have no further use for me as her father, but I cannot rest contented with the knowl- edge that she may be under a cloud of suspi- cion because of me. That is why I am writ- ing to you, and you may rest assured that Shirley had no more knowledge of my pres- ence in the house than you had. I fancy she may have suspected me at the very last and that her quick wits had al- ready guessed who I was when she made her speech about “preferring to see me dead.” Probably she is right, but most probably I shall continue to flourish like the proverbial bay tree. With many thanks for your able assistance —you were quite clever in finding the passage- way, which I had already discovered and pre- pared in case of an emergency, and your zeal in exploring the attic directly above the room where your great-uncle lay, nearly caused me some embarrassment—but in the main you were very helpful. Very. sincerely, RICHARD DEANE. P. S—The enclosure is for Shirley. I finished this remarkable letter with two distinct feelings in my mind: one, a fierce desire to wring the writer’s neck; the other an equally intense gratitude. The latter dominated, however, and the anger I felt at the sneering patronage of the letter was speedily lost in the joy of the thought that Shirley was free from all suspicion. But, would she ever forgive me for having sus- pected her? The selfish thought followed fast on the heels of my joy; I was sure she wouldn’t! My great-uncle had been watching me while J tread this letter. I handed it over N ‘by COO al eo ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. to him now without any comment. When he had finished reading it he passed it back to me again. ‘“‘ Rather a remarkable letter, and quite true to the writer’s character. I think, however, that we can give him credit for a real desire to tell the truth, this time.” I agreed with him, for in spite of its cynical boastfulness and its tone of moral degeneracy, there yet ran through it a genuine note of affection and admiration for the daughter he had wronged. I would have given a good deal to know just how Uncle Gregory felt about Shir-- ley’s share in the matter, but he did not say and I did not like to ask him; I could only hope the letter would do its work. For myself, I was determined to see Shir- ley and try to tell her again how sorry I felt, and I was just getting up to do so when she came into the room. She paid no attention to me, but walked over to my uncle, “‘'You’re feeling much better now,” she stated rather than asked. “Yes, thanks to your-good care and Carlos! If the weather holds good, I shall get outdoors to-morrow.”’ “Then you don’t mind if I leave to- day? I have very important business that I must attend to in New York.” Uncle Gregory did not seem much sur- prised. He lay back and looked at her with his little dry smile. “Isn’t this rather a hasty decision? You remember that you and Carlos came out here for a special purpose.” She caught her breath for an instant, but went on steadily. “Yes, I know very well, and that’s ex- actly why I’m leaving. When I came out —although you may not believe it—I had no idea my father would come here or do what he did. I had nothing whatsoever to do with him, but the facts are against me, and there is nothing I can do to prove my innocence.” ‘Have I ever said that you came here to help your father get the maney?” asked Uncle Gregory quietly. ‘““No; but it would be partly true if you did.”’ We both stared at that. =— ew TE Olio STATE DIGGERS DOOkE: - -7 GOm