"Shams!" incredulously. "But that is impossible."
"Is it?" cynically. "Then the impossible has come to pass. There's nothing genuine in the whole lot."
A long silence falls between them. Frank Lamotte sits staring straight before him; sudden conviction seems to have overtaken his panic-stricken senses. Jasper Lamotte drums upon the table impatiently, looking moody and despondent.
"A variety of queer things may seem plain to you now," he says, finally. "Perhaps you realize the necessity for instant action of some sort."
Frank stirs restlessly, and passes his hand across his brows.
"I can't realize anything fully," he says, slowly. "It's as well that Burrill did not live to know this."
"Well! It's providential! We should not have a chance; as it is, we have one. Do you know where Burrill kept his papers?"
"No."
"Who removed his personal effects? Were you present?"
"Assuredly. There were no papers of value to us upon the body."