“Yes, and no. I’m a neighbor of Mr. Winters and he asked me to keep an eye on his house while he was away. I saw the light in the windows and came to see what was wrong.”
“My uncle is dead,” Rosanna said quietly. “I have inherited the estate.”
“Jacob Winters dead!” the man exploded. “Why, I had a card from him last week. Mailed from some place down in Africa. Let me see that letter you claim to have.”
Rosanna opened her pocketbook and searched for it. A troubled look came over her face. She was certain she had placed both the letter and the key in the inside compartment. Now she could find neither.
“So you haven’t got it?” the man said suspiciously.
“I must have it somewhere. I can’t imagine how I misplaced it. You remember the letter don’t you, Penny?”
“Of course. You had it in your pocketbook the last time I saw it. We’re telling you the absolute truth Mr.——”
“Caleb Eckert,” he supplied. “If you didn’t have a key how did you get into the house?”
“Why, the door was open—that is, it was unlocked,” Penny explained.
Caleb Eckert peered at her sharply as if trying to make up his mind if she were speaking the truth. Rosanna, who by this time had emptied her purse out upon the table, was growing more upset every minute.