But little attention was paid him, and Stone said, thoughtfully:
“Our problem of the mystery of Doctor Waring’s death is as great as ever.”
“It is,” agreed Lockwood, “but I am sure now, Mr. Stone, that it was a suicide. The motive is supplied, for I knew Doctor Waring so well, I knew the workings of his great and good mind, and I am sure that he felt there was no other course for him. I can see just how he decided that the exposure of all this would react against the reputation of the College. That the sensation and scandal that would fill the papers would harm the standing of the University of Corinth, and that—and that alone—caused his decision. I know him so well, that I can tell you that never, never would he take his life to save himself trouble or sorrow, but for others’ sake—and I include Mrs. Bates—he made the sacrifice.
“I can see—and I am sure of what I say—how he realized that the press and the public would forgive and condone a dead man, when, if he lived, the brunt of the whole matter would fall on his beloved College and on the woman he loved and respected.
“Now—as I feel sure he foresaw—such of this story as must be made public will have far less weight and prominence, than if he were alive. I know all this is so—for, I knew John Waring as few people knew him.”
A grateful glance from John Waring’s daughter thanked him for this tribute.
“That ten thousand dollar check?” Trask said, suddenly, for his mind was still concerned with the financial side.
“I think that must have been sent to my mother,” said Anita. “She, as I told you, returned to the use of her maiden name, and during our interview, my father told me he should write her at once and send her money. I feel sure he did do so—”
“Without doubt,” Lockwood said; “and if so, the letter would have been mailed with the collection next morning. The returning voucher will show.”
“Also the letter he wrote my mother will corroborate all I have told you,” said Anita, and both her assertion and Gordon’s, later came true.