"That's right. I received a letter from Hopkins, Ah! That's the man you should see. Hopkins. He was with your uncle for a long while."
"Hopkins is dead."
"You don't mean it!" There was a tone of real sorrow in Isaac Coffran's voice. "Poor Hopkins! Faithful servant he was. Died so soon, too!"
"That adds to my belief that my uncle had enemies."
* * *
The old man leaned over and tapped Bruce Duncan on the shoulder.
"Your imagination is at work, my boy," he said. "I don't think that your suspicions are correct. So far as I know, your uncle had nothing to conceal from any one. There is no cause for alarm."
The friendly tone was comforting.
"I wish I could agree with you, Mr. Coffran," said Duncan. "Unfortunately, I cannot. I am sure that my uncle possessed an important secret which he told to no one."
"Imagination, my boy."