“Say, here’s something that might help. Just see how this sentence is worded,” broke in Phil. “‘It is that the town you must leave immediately.’ Now no person who was familiar with the English language would have said it that way. The more likely phrasing would have been, ‘You must leave town immediately.’ And that makes me certain that only one man wrote those letters.”
“Jean LeBlanc!” burst out Garry and Dick almost in the same breath.
“That’s what I think myself. I’d stake a lot that I am right,” said Phil. He began to look through the other letters and, as he expected, his scrutiny revealed several other little oddities of language.
They were still discussing the matter when Aunt Abbie entered to announce that supper was ready. The boys protested that they could not put her to so much trouble, but were instantly hushed by the old lady.
“She prides herself on her cooking, and you’ll hurt her feelings if you protest,” whispered Ruth to the boys, so the party trooped out to the dining room where an ample supper was waiting them.
As they ate, the question of quarters for the night came up, and Garry suggested that they go to the lean-to which they had built in the woods outside of the town on their previous visit; but Aunt Abbie would not hear of this, and insisted that they stay there.
“Land sakes, I have enough room here for all of you, and I like to have people in this big, lonely house. Keeps me young to have young people around me, too.”
So it was settled that they should stay there for the night, but the boys decided that in the morning they would visit the lean-to, and repair any slight damage that might have been done to it, and make their quarters there during their stay, for they thought they might be in and out a good deal in search for the writer of the threatening letters.
After supper Dick announced that in the morning he was going to try his hand at photographing the letters. This led to another examination of the notes, and Garry made a discovery.
“Look, there is a distinct sign of a fingerprint here. The paper looks as though it might at one time have been wrapped around a piece of bacon and is slightly greasy; enough to take a fingerprint. When you take your pictures in the morning, Dick, I will fix it so the print will show up.”