Unobtrusively, trying to make it seem a preoccupied action, he folded the newspaper again and thrust it down at the end of the seat cushion. But Ellen was watching him, a haunting fear gradually coming into her eyes.
She quickly reached past him and snatched the paper before he realized her intent. The item he had read came instantly under her eyes because of the way he had automatically 32 folded the paper. She read it with staring eyes.
“So, Lee,” she said, “you think there’s a connection with––with––well, with us?”
“Absurd!” he said heartily, too heartily. “Caleb Barter is dead.”
“But I have never been sure,” insisted Ellen. “Oh, Lee, let’s get away from here! Let’s take the first boat for Bermuda––anywhere to escape this terrible fear.”
“No!” he retorted harshly. “If our suspicions are correct, and I think we’re unwarrantedly keyed up because of our recent experiences, the officials of New York may need my help.”
“Your help? Why?”
“I know more about Caleb Barter than any other living man, perhaps.”
“Then you do have doubts that he is dead!”