“She’s got her gall with her, all right—to come here at all,â€� said Patsy.
“She has got her brains with her, too; don’t forget that, either of you,� said Nick.
“Well, what do you suspect the game to be, Nick?� asked Chick.
“I only suspect a game. What it is, I don’t pretend to guess,â€� was the reply. “Only, there is one thing which I cannot believe—which I cannot bring myself to accept.â€�
“The identity of this man who has appeared here as a claimant?�
“Yes.�
“You think that he is an impostor?�
“I suspect that he is; that is all.�
“And that there is perhaps another murder back of it all; the murder of the real Carleton Lynne?�
“I don’t know about that. That is going at it rather strong. It may be that the real Carleton Lynne has been dead a long time; or that he has been lost sight of for a long time. He may have gone to the Klondike with the rush and never have reappeared. There are a thousand and one things that may have happened to him, any one of which would give a clever impostor who had known him well in the past the opportunity; particularly if he were spurred to it by such a woman as Madge Babbington.�