"A clew to Hathaway. Incidentally, any other information concerning him that comes your way. That includes the letter."
"Oh. So you know about the letter, do you?" asked Susan.
"To be sure. And I know that's what you're here for now. Don't let me interrupt you. It's a mighty hard job, finding that letter, and the folks'll be back by and by."
"You're right," exclaimed the woman, rising abruptly. "Go back to your work in the kitchen."
"This is my occupation, just now," retorted Sarah, lolling in her chair. "Go ahead with your search, Nan, and I'll tell you when you are 'hot' or 'cold.'"
"You're an impudent little chit," said Nan tartly. "See here," with a sudden change of voice, "let's pool issues. If we can discover anything important in this place, there's reward enough for us all."
"I am not opposing you," protested Sarah Judd, "I'm not a particle interested in whether you trace Hathaway or not. I don't believe you can do it, though, and that letter you're so eager for won't help you a bit. It was written ten years ago."
"That makes it more important," declared the other, "We've two things to accomplish; one is to locate Hathaway, and the other to secure absolute proof of his guilt."
"I thought he was caught doing the job."
"So he was, in a way. But the Department needs more proof."