“You’ve agreed to do all I expected of you—and more,” acknowledged Fred in relief. “I—I thank you, Piper.”
“Don’t,” said Sleuth. “Some day you’ll understand that there was not an atom of animosity or spite in my heart. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll go see those lawyers. And don’t worry, I won’t blow until I’ve seen you again.”
A short time later Fred Sage presented himself at the lockup, where he tried to get a word with Clarence, but admission was denied him. Ere returning home, more from habit than otherwise, he called for mail at the post-office and was given a letter addressed to his father. Not until he had nearly reached his home did he observe that the envelope bore the postmark of Rutledge, New York, and that the names of “Jorlemon & Gates, Attorneys-at-Law,” were printed upon it.
Jorlemon and Gates were the lawyers who had defended Clarence Sage at his trial.
CHAPTER XXX.
THE TRUTH AT LAST.
Old Andrew Sage uttered a choking cry and fell back on his chair, the letter he had been reading fluttering from his nerveless fingers and dropping upon his lap.
Startled, Mrs. Sage hastened toward her husband, and Fred sprang forward, crying:
“What is it—what is it, father? What’s the matter? Are you ill?”
No wonder he asked the question, for Mr. Sage’s face was white as chalk and he was gasping painfully, as if he found it difficult to breathe.
“Get some water quick, Fred,” urged Mrs. Sage, bending over her husband.