Leonard's face brightened, in spite of the detective's words and tone. "Before I begin," he said, "I wish to ask one question. Did you, or the chief of police, or any of his officers, search my house the other day?"
"Yes."
"And found——"
"Found your correspondence with Madame Ree, five thousand dollars in notes, a portion of the money Filbon stole and which John Dashwood took away that night, and muddy trousers and a rust-stained handkerchief."
Leonard exhibited no surprise.
"I thought so," he said. "Then the whole story must be told."
"Yes," repeated Nick Carter, "the whole story must be told."
The manufacturer resumed his seat on the bed. Nick and Chick found chairs. Nick sat near the door, with his back to it. Chick sat on the other side of Leonard, and near the window.
"Well," began the manufacturer, "the whole trouble took a start when this woman, who called herself Cora Reesey, and my daughter, wrote her first letter from San Francisco. I was not afraid of the embezzlement matter, for I have paid up every cent I appropriated. I was young and reckless in my California days, but I repented when I grew older. But I did fear an arrest for bigamy, though God knows I thought I was a widower when I married my second wife here in St. Louis."