“Well, after dinner, Miss Vernon and I sat on the terrace——” Barry paused. “By Jove,” he broke out, “how can I tell you the straight truth? It sounds exactly as if Natalie did it!”
Alan Ford almost smiled at the boy’s impetuous exclamation, but merely prompted him, “Yes. Go right on, remember the truth will help Miss Vernon more than any falsehood possibly could. Have you never heard of seemingly incriminatory evidence of one leading straight to another?”
“All right, then. We sat there a long time, and then we talked about—about getting married. I was bothered about it, for Dad had vowed if I married Natalie, he’d cut me out of his will.”
“That’s why you altered the will in Miss Vernon’s favour?”
“I didn’t alter that will! This is man to man, now, Mr. Ford. I’m telling you the truth. I didn’t change that will, and Miss Vernon didn’t, either. I don’t know who did.”
“We’ll find that out. It won’t be a great surprise to learn the truth about that.”
“How do you know it won’t? Do you know who did the forgery?”
“I think so. Or perhaps there wasn’t any forgery. But go on, my dear boy, with your story. I told you, you know, I’ve not much time to give you.”
“All right. We talked about getting married, and I got awful mad and I said if Father didn’t stop his nonsense with her, I’d kidnap her and run away. And Natalie knew that if we did that, Dad would cut us both out of his will,—and she isn’t a bit mercenary, it wasn’t that.”
“What was it, then?”