"Whatever for?" exclaimed Lucille; "I'll go with you!"
"No; I'm going alone, and I'm going because I feel sure I can find out something there. I'll see the minister of the church Auntie attended, and see if she promised him a chalice, or if his church has a crypt, or if those people she spoke of in her will—that firm, you know—can tell me anything about the receipt that was in the pocket-book she left to Win."
"But it wasn't in the pocket-book!" reminded Chapin.
"It was when Aunt Ursula made that will. The murderer took it, and, Mr. Chapin, that lets Win out! Why should he steal a paper that was meant for him anyway?"
"He didn't know then that it was left to him, did he?"
"I don't know that, I'm sure. But I know Win didn't kill Aunt Ursula, and it's awful to keep him shut up!"
"I think myself they hardly had enough evidence to arrest him on, but Hughes thought they did, and the district attorney is hard at work on the case now."
"Yes, hard at work!" Iris spoke scornfully, "what's he doing, I'd like to know."
"These things move slowly, Iris——"
"Well, I'll do a little quick work, then, and show them how. I'm going to Chicago to-morrow, and I'll be gone several days, but I'll be back as soon as possible and there'll be something doing, or I'll know why!"