The girl listened intently and when he finished, she said, in tones of relief:
"Then you have reason to believe that the man was alive when you heard his voice coming from that old hut in the swamp?"
"Just so," assented Old King Brady, admiring her fortitude and cool judgment.
"And you believe my cousin Ronald and this negro were at the bottom of the whole thing?" continued the girl.
"We do. It's our opinion that Mason sent your father a decoy telegram to the Union Club, and lured him to the empty house in Thirty-sixth street. We believe he and Sim Johnson arranged to attack and drug him there. We think, when they either killed or drugged him, they packed him in the box and shipped it by rail to Georgia. The fact that some unknown party on the cars chloroformed us leads us to suppose it was Mason, who may have been on the cars disguised. We also think they had accomplices at Swamp Angel to stop the train so they could steal the box and hide the body of the man it contained in the swamp. The fact of Mason and the negro being there at the time, confirms this suspicion of them being at the bottom of the job."
"Your suspicions seem to be well founded, sir, but it may be only a theory on your part, after all," said the girl.
"Miss Dalton, you can weaken or strengthen our suspicions."
"In what way, Mr. Brady?"
"By showing us a motive for such crooked work."
"How can I?"