“Love letters?” Gale inquired, with a grin.
“Not exactly,” the girl replied coldly. “How long have you been in this room, Mr. Gale?”
“Not very long. Not more than five minutes, I should say. Why do you ask?”
“I was wondering if you had noticed anybody tampering with my desk.”
The reporter smiled deprecatingly. “My dear Virginia! If I had, don’t you suppose I would have called them to account?” Suddenly a glint came to his eyes, as an idea occurred to him. “One minute, though! I think, perhaps, I can solve this mystery for you. Tell me, were these letters of such a character that they would be of value to a newspaper?”
Virginia sighed. “They would be of great value to a newspaper,” she answered, “but——”
“Then I guess I’ve got the answer,” Gale interrupted. “This morning, as I was coming downstairs, I encountered a man coming out of this room. He seemed to be in a great hurry, and it struck me, also, that he appeared very nervous. I would have stopped him and demanded what he was doing here, only I supposed at the time that he had been calling on your father. After he had gone, though, I discovered that your father wasn’t in the house. I have no doubt, now, that it was the chap who stole the letters from your desk.”
“And you haven’t any idea who he was?” Virginia asked, an odd break in her voice.
“Yes, I have,” Gale answered. “It was the Camera Chap—Hawley.”
“Good heavens!” Virginia gasped. “Are you sure, Mr. Gale?”