"They're worth fifty thousand dollars!" Susan laughed. "At least that's the price Walter expects to make his uncle pay for them. Penny, what would happen if we just kept these letters?"
"I suppose Old Herman would refuse to pay over the money. I know I should in his case."
"Then why wouldn't that be a good solution of the matter?"
"It would from Old Herman's standpoint," Penny said dryly. "But you're forgetting that Walter isn't actually a blackmailer. The money really belongs to him."
"Then by keeping these letters we might be depriving him of his rightful inheritance?"
"It seems that way. I don't like Walter any better than you do—he appears to be a rather unscrupulous fellow even if he does have the law on his side. However, we can't let our personal feelings enter into the matter."
"That being the case, why did we interfere at all?" Susan asked. "Wouldn't it have been better not to have taken the letters? Now if we decide to give then back, we'll have a lot of explaining to do."
"You are perfectly right, of course, Susan. My curiosity simply got the best of me again. I felt as if I had to read these letters."
"Then let's read them," Susan laughed.
Penny untied the cord which bound the letters into a neat package. There were eight of them all addressed to Herman Crocker. Return notations in the corners showed that five of the letters were from the old man's sister, Jenny. The others were from the woman named Hilda Frank and were postmarked, Belgrade Lakes, Maine.