"Oh, no, it's not the same."
"Do you mean this is a forgery?" burst out Blake, hoarsely, snatching up the note and staring at it.
"Undoubtedly," answered Collins, coolly, but his face was very dark. "The forger, clever as he was, could scarcely expect to be so fortunate as to duplicate the paper. And then, of course, he couldn't foresee that it would be turned over to you. But he did very well. Now let's have the story."
"Miss Rushford had the note in her desk," said Vernon, shortly. "She missed it last night and went to tell her sister of the theft. When she returned to her room and began a systematic search, she found it slipped among some note-paper in the drawer where she had placed it. She returned it to me this morning."
"Without suspecting that it was a forgery?"
"Certainly."
"And you didn't tell her?"
"No."
Collins sat for a moment staring down at the note.
"Which reminds me," he remarked, at last, "that Markeld spent the evening with the Rushfords."