"Outside of the improbability, on account of relationship by marriage, and so forth, of Leonard's killing Dashwood, there is the further circumstance that he did not, upon his arrival home in the early morning, attempt to conceal the evidences of his crime. A man guilty of the murder of John Dashwood, no matter how satisfied he may have been in respect of his security from suspicion, would not have allowed the clay-stains to remain on the trousers, nor the telltale handkerchief to remain in his closet. And he would never have permitted these incriminating letters and notes to stay in his desk. No, my boy, Leonard is not the man. He had not upon his head the guilt of his son-in-law's death when he went up-town early yesterday morning."
"But, Nick, ought he not to have feared, from what he knew of the night's happenings, that, though innocent, he might be suspected? And would not that suspicion have caused him to take the precaution to put out of the way evidence that would associate him with the crime?"
"Not at the time. He arose early to send off that telegram to his daughter. His conscience was clear of the guilt of Dashwood's murder, and when he left the house he had not arrived at a sober idea of the situation. And I can imagine another reason which could explain why he acted as he did, and we will immediately proceed to test the theory which it raises. Have you had your breakfast?"
"Yes."
"Then you must begin work at once. You must go down the river."
"In a boat?"
"No. Get a rig. I'll explain on our way to the livery-stable."
Nick saw Chick off, and then went to the chief's office. No trace of the missing boat had been found, and the chief was now of opinion that it had been scuttled and sunk. Nick coincided with this view.
"Oh," said the chief, "here is something for you, a letter. It came this morning, in my care. Looks like a woman's handwriting."