"And could have sent the others," Farland added.
"But, why?" Prale demanded. "I never saw the woman until I met her at a social affair in Honduras. What could she or any of her people have against me?"
"Perhaps it was the maid," Farland said.
"She could have done it, of course, the same as Kate Gilbert," Prale said. "But the same difficulty holds good—why? Kate Gilbert did seem to avoid me, and I caught her big maid glaring at me once or twice as if she hated the sight of me. But why on earth——"
Farland cleared his throat. "Here is another thought for you to digest," he said. "This Kate Gilbert knows your cousin, George Lerton."
Sidney Prale suddenly sat up straight in his chair again, his eyes blinking rapidly.
"Doesn't that open up possibilities?" Jim Farland asked him. "The woman seems to be working against you for some reason, and we know that George Lerton lied about meeting you on Fifth Avenue that night. It appears that he is working against you, too, for some mysterious motive."
A dangerous gleam came into Sidney Prale's eyes. "That simplifies matters," he said. "I'll watch for Kate Gilbert, and when I see her I'll ask why she sent me those notes. Then I'll get George Lerton alone and choke out of him why he lied about meeting me on the Avenue. I've trimmed worse men than George Lerton."
"You'll be a good little boy and do nothing of the sort," Farland told him. "We are playing a double game, remember—trying to solve this enemy business, and at the same time trying to clear you of a murder charge. If any of those persons get the idea that we are unduly interested in them, we may not have such an easy time of it."
"I understand that, of course."